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Then her female subsided, sliding away so there was barely a trace of her, leaving Ania alone and afraid. She felt the burn as the leopard released her and then the rough rasp of his tongue over the bite marks. A slide of fur and he was gone, leaving her shaking so hard she was afraid she would have fallen had Mitya not been holding her.
His hands soothed her, moving over her gently, shaping her curves, stroking her skin. He rubbed some kind of ointment into the bites and covered them both with Band-Aids. Clearly he’d come prepared. He kissed his way over her shoulder and down her back, slowly allowing her top to drop back into place. He turned her into his arms and pulled her tight against his chest. Ania did her best to calm her ragged breathing.
“What just happened?” Her voice was muffled, but she didn’t care. She needed him to hold her.
“Your female is going into heat, Ania. Were you aware of your leopard?”
Was she? She knew about shifters. Her father was one. Once, he’d showed her how he could shift, and he told her never to be afraid if her leopard suddenly revealed herself. He claimed it was freedom to run in the form of a leopard. It was one of the reasons they had bought so many acres there in the hills rather than having a home in the city.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I felt her,” she admitted. She ran every evening after she spent time with her father, mostly to rid herself of excess energy and the ever-present grief and anger she felt after seeing the once-vibrant man slowly reduced to a vegetable. When she ran, she was faster than she believed was possible. She could leap distances and could often jump over fallen tree trunks when they were in her way.
“She will be emerging soon.” Mitya kissed the top of her head and walked her back to the table. “When she does, my leopard will act on his claim. They are a bonded pair.”
Ania sank into the seat and pressed her hand over her eyes. She had always hoped she would have a leopard, that she was born with the shifter genes, but now, she wasn’t so certain. When she thought Mitya wanted her for her, it was heady, wonderful and an unexpected gift. She felt so alone all the time. Even if she knew on some level that it wasn’t a good idea to give in to her attraction to him, it was amazing to have a sensual man like him want her. She needed to feel as if she was his entire focus. Now she knew it wasn’t her at all. It was his leopard and her female.
“I see that your mind is busy setting up barriers between us once again,” Mitya said, picking up his knife and fork. He regarded her steadily with his unusual blue-green eyes.
“I don’t do that.” She could hear the lie. The steady gaze never left her face, and she found herself turning red and squirming. “All right, maybe I do. But in this instance, I think I need some breathing room to think this entire thing through.”
“What’s to think about? I’m still here because you are the only woman I want to be with.”
“And it just so happens that I have a female your leopard wants.”
“When I was a young boy, my father would force my leopard out to protect me and his leopard would viciously rip him to shreds. This happened over and over. I was beaten and sometimes even attacked by his leopard. I have the scars everywhere.” He touched one of the slashes on his face and then rubbed his palm over his chest. “The things he did to my leopard were worse than what I suffered.”
Ania forgot all about why she was feeling hurt. “Why would he do that?” She was shocked that anyone would treat a child that way. She’d been loved by her grandparents and parents from the moment she was born.
“The lair where I was born belongs to the bratya. They believe the bratya comes before family, a woman, anyone. To prove loyalty, they take a wife, usually one they buy from another lair, or get as a favor, and breed her for sons. If a female child is born, that child is doomed to the same fate as her mother, if she survives at all. When he gets his sons, to prove loyalty, he murders his wife with his own hands. Often his sons are expected to participate.”
She was shocked, and she knew it showed on her face. He spoke matter-of-factly, distancing himself from his childhood, but she could see and hear that he was telling her the truth. “Mitya.” She whispered his name, one hand going defensively to her throat.
“The leopards are turned into killing machines. They are always denied their true mates. Eventually, the cats become unmanageable. They are allowed, even encouraged, to hunt human enemies. Sometimes they are taken into another territory and let loose to kill as many as possible. They rage day and night, raking and slashing at their human counterparts, and of course they are extremely strong. Controlling one every second of the day and night becomes more than challenging.”
She understood the lines of strain in his face. Sevastyan, his cousin, had them as well. It had to be a horrible way to live. She sat back, the delicious meal suddenly tasting like cardboard. “I’m so sorry, Mitya.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Don’t be, Ania, not for me. My leopard, but not me. I escaped with cousins, and we came here and have made a life for ourselves.”
“You were shot.”
His smile was faint, but his eyes had gone a disturbing and very sensual, warm green-blue, pushing the glacier away for just enough time for her stomach to pitch.
“I see you’re doing your homework on me.”
She couldn’t very well deny it. “Naturally. I have my father to look out for and my attraction to you was . . . unexpected. And unsettling. At least I know why it was so strong.”
“Why do you think it’s so intense?”
There was the slightest touch of amusement in his voice, and that got to her as well, although not in the good way his faint smile had. The chemistry between them was intense, but she hadn’t gone near that word deliberately.
“Our leopards.” She tried to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t. She used her fork to push around the rice on her plate.
“Ania, look at me.” He went silent.
She knew he was waiting. He could wait until hell froze over. The silence stretched between them, and she felt his eyes on her. Almost as if his gaze was burning right through her. Reaching deep. She tried to resist, but her stomach kept doing those weird slow rolls and she felt him crawling deep inside, right where she didn’t want him. She raised her eyes to his. Instantly, she was caught and held. Mesmerized. Unable to look away.
“I’ve had a lot of women. Fast. Back to me. No time spent. No kissing. Just get relief and send them away. I’m not telling you this because I’m proud of it. I’m not. I’m telling you because I want you to know the moment I saw you, I couldn’t stay away. I had to be with you.”
“For your leopard,” she persisted. Her heart was beating far too fast.
“For me. I needed you for me. I wanted you for myself. I knew better. You deserve better, but I found I wasn’t a good enough man to give you up, not when I knew you were attracted to me.” He leaned forward. “We can take this slow. You deserve that, Ania, and I want to give you the world. The problem is our leopards may not give us the time we need.”
She bit down on her lower lip, hard. She’d felt the beginnings of her leopard’s need, so she couldn’t pretend not to understand.
“I don’t know, Mitya. I’m responsible for the care of my father. I’m in the middle of trying to sell the family business. This isn’t a good time.” She forked rice into her mouth. Her food was cold, and she put her fork down again.
“Keep trying to find reasons to push me away.”
That was exactly what she was doing because he scared her. Everything about him scared her because everything about him appealed to her.
“I’m not going to say I’m not tempted, because I am, but it’s the wrong time right now. I’ve got responsibilities. A few months from now . . .”
“What will you do when she goes into heat?”
She moistened her lips. She still couldn’t look away from him. It was impossible. �
�I don’t know. What do most women do when it happens? Lock themselves away? Find a companion? What?”
“You find a companion other than me and that’s a dead man,” Mitya said so mildly that for a moment she didn’t comprehend.
Footsteps sounded on the tile and Sevastyan was there immediately, stepping between the running woman who had come from down the hallway and Mitya and Ania.
“Miss Ania. You’re needed now in your father’s room. Hurry.”
4
“HE’S having another one of those spells!” the woman shouted. “Hurry, Ania!”
Mitya’s gaze had been on Ania’s face when the nurse had rushed into the room, calling out to her. He saw the fear in her eyes, in the sudden white beneath her skin, beneath her expression. She tried to hide the trembling of her hands as she put them on the table to leverage herself out of her chair. It wasn’t just fear of her father passing; this was much more primal. He was on his feet almost before Ania.
“Stay here, Annalise,” Ania commanded. “I’ll handle it.” She didn’t even look at Mitya, almost as if she’d forgotten he was there as she raced out of the room.
Mitya paced along right behind her, Sevastyan at his side. Neither made a sound as they hurried after her. Ania used her leopard’s speed whether she knew it or not. A leopard could leap long distances, and she covered the ground at an incredible pace.
Annalise had looked frightened. More than frightened. Terrified. Ania had reacted quickly, without giving her company a thought. When they reached the hall leading to the master bedroom, Mitya heard the chilling sounds coming from the room. He knew immediately what was happening.
“Ania.” He tried to stop her, but he’d been hanging back so she wouldn’t realize they were right behind her.
Sevastyan increased his speed as well. The two sprinted down the hall and were just able to leap into the bedroom before Ania slammed the door closed and shot multiple bolts. Her eyes were wide with fear. Both could smell it coming off her in waves, but she approached the bed and the contorting man in it.
“Dad. Look at me. I’m here with you.”
The man was very far gone. When he swung his head around toward Ania, it was a leopard staring at her. As if that weren’t bad enough, the leopard was crazed, in a frenzy of rage, desperate to escape the pain the dying man was in.
Mitya caught Ania by the shoulder and thrust her behind him. She didn’t want to go, using her strength to try to get around him.
“Get out of here,” she hissed.
Sevastyan caught her by the shoulders. “Hush. You’ll trigger the cat.”
Mitya moved close to the bed and the thrashing man. Her father’s skin rose and fell in waves as if something alive moved beneath it. His muscles contracted and then released. His jaw elongated, his mouth filling with teeth, and then receded back to normal. All the while those eyes tracked Mitya, recognizing the vicious leopard in him.
Her father’s name was Antosha Dover and he was in his early sixties. At one time he’d been strong, strong enough to hold back his leopard after he’d been shot multiple times. No one knew he was still fighting, keeping the cat at bay while his brain was slowly shutting down due to the bullet that couldn’t be removed. He was still fighting, for his daughter’s sake, but the leopard was gaining strength as he lost it.
“Antosha,” Mitya said. “I’m your daughter’s mate. Look at me. See me. Hold your cat back or I will have no choice but to fight him. My leopard is vicious and very experienced.”
The cat’s yellow eyes swung around the room, clearly looking for Ania. Mitya had wondered about the deep scratches in her arms. Defense wounds. She had helped her father battle back the cat on more than one occasion. Mitya wanted to shake her. This was dangerous. She needed help and yet to keep her father safe, she had taken on the duty of guarding him from the rest of the world and guarding the world from his leopard. He admired her for doing it, but knew it was far too dangerous for her on her own. Sooner or later the cat would break free and she would be facing a crazed, pain-driven animal looking to kill everyone in its sight.
“Look only at me, Antosha. Your daughter needs to be kept safe at all times. You don’t want to be the one to kill her. Have you seen her arms? Your leopard attacked her.”
“Stop,” Ania hissed. “He feels bad enough. He can’t help what is happening.”
Mitya heard the unshed tears in her voice, and he wanted to gather her close and hold her to him. How long had she been alone in this fight? He knew from experience that when a man was dying from a brain injury, especially if that injury had occurred violently, the cat was injured as well, and became even more deadly. Her father would have killed her eventually.
“Kotyonok, stay quiet and let me handle this.” He kept his voice low, but there was no way to keep the command from his voice. He’d been giving orders since he was a child. He was the son of the most vicious vor in their homeland. Every other lair knew of Lazar and his son, Mitya. He wanted to be gentle with her, but this wasn’t the time.
He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to Sevastyan. At the same time, he slid the shiny loafers from his feet. He was always ready for his leopard to emerge. He could shift in seconds, his cat already fighting as the animal emerged. He was a vicious fighter, and he would annihilate a cat that had no experience, as Antosha’s leopard clearly wouldn’t have.
“Please don’t,” Ania said. “Let me try.”
He didn’t want to kill her father. If he did, she would never forgive him. He knew that. He also knew it was going to be necessary. Maybe not this time, but soon.
“Antosha. I know you’re there somewhere. Fight him. Don’t let your life end with your leopard trying to kill your daughter. You know you don’t want that as your legacy to her.”
He heard a small sob escape her and then her hand swept down his back. Barely there. Barely felt. But she conveyed so much with that touch. She knew he was trying to save her life. She knew he didn’t want to kill her father. She also knew it was going to happen.
“Dad, please.” She choked on the plea. “You can do this. You’re strong.”
“Antosha, do I need to have my cousin take your daughter from this room, or do we talk, man to man? I had hoped to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. I wanted you to give me advice on how best to give her a home. I want to hear the things you have to say to the man who will spend a lifetime with your little girl.”
Mitya tried to appeal to the man fighting his leopard. Say the things that might call to a father. He had used his name repeatedly, knowing Antosha had fought hard to keep his leopard from killing his daughter. Clearly Ania was loved by this man. Mitya knew what it was like fighting back a crazed leopard and he didn’t have a bullet in his head that was slowly killing him.
For a moment the cat stared at him. Mitya allowed his cat to stare back. Then the man was there. For the first time, Mitya looked into Antosha’s eyes. Ania had those nearly purple eyes. The color was indigo, so dark blue the shade slipped into a dark, gorgeous purple. He looked ravaged by his ordeal, but Mitya could still see traces of what he would have looked like, a handsome man with feminine eyes. Gorgeous eyes.
Ania must have been able to see her father because her hand slid up Mitya’s back, beneath his shirt, skin to skin, and he felt her tremble.
“You’re a strong man, Antosha. A man to be admired. You have an equally strong daughter. You must be proud of her. Of her accomplishments. Speak with me. Tell me the things you would say to your daughter’s man. I need to hear these things.”
Antosha renewed his efforts to fight off his leopard. The cat held out, but only for a short time. It was used to following the will of the man. The cat subsided, and the contortions receded. Antosha fell back against his pillows and threw one arm over his eyes, his body shaking. Exhausted.
Mitya stepped back to allow Ania the freedom to get to her father
. She flung herself on the bed with him, her arm going around him, her face buried in his chest. Antosha wrapped his arm around her and looked up at Mitya and Sevastyan. There was despair written in every line of his face. Suffering. Determination.
“She can’t keep coming in here. I can’t hold him back forever.” The voice was thin, barely heard. Each word was slurred. The sentences were slow, as if Antosha had to reach for each word, find it and then form it carefully to say it.
Mitya wanted to close his eyes, to turn away from the plea in Ania’s father’s eyes. The man wanted him to kill them both, man and cat. The desperation was there. The need. He knew, as did Mitya, that it was only a matter of time before the leopard won. When that happened, the cat would kill anyone it came across—including his daughter and his caretaker.
“How long has this fight been going on?”
“Too long. Can’t hold out.”
“You can.” Ania lifted her head and looked her father in the eye. “You can hold out. You will. If you die, I’ll be alone, Dad. I won’t have anyone.”
Antosha’s gaze met Mitya’s. “Mate?”
“Her leopard has accepted my leopard’s claim. She soothes him. Just being close to her, she brings both of us peace,” Mitya assured. “Your daughter will be treasured. I will take care of her.”
“Word of honor.”
Ania sat up and looked from her father to Mitya as if sensing more was going on in the conversation than just the words.
“You have my word of honor,” Mitya agreed.
“Protect her. From me.”
Ania shook her head. “Dad. Don’t do this.”
“Protect her from me.”
The words were so slurred and so slow and drawn out that they barely sounded as if they were an actual language. The man was exhausted, and Mitya felt for him.