A Lion’s Mate by Eve Langlais

Chapter Sixteen

The memories slammed into her.

Who she was.

Why she’d gone.

What happened.

And now, to pay the price.

Aunt Francine looked livid. “You went looking for that box? After what it did to your mother?”

It should be noted that Aunt Francine often looked angry. She also didn’t often leave the compound. But when her cousins had spotted her that morning, they must have called her. This was about to get ugly.

Fluffy, who was baptized as Arleen Bethany Smith, winced. “I was just trying to deal with my past like my therapist told me to.”

“Dealing with it means being responsible. It’s calling us, letting us know how you are, where you are. Giving us an itinerary, phone numbers. Because then when you go missing, we don’t have to worry that you’re dead. We’ve been searching for you. Your poor mum is worried sick.” Francine didn’t ease up.

Every word of it was true. Arleen had lied when she left because she knew to expect a tirade from her mom. An overprotective mother in her youth, after the first time she’d gone missing, Mum had locked her down tight. She didn’t even like it when teenage Arleen went to the store on her bike to get a treat. That was where Aunt Francine had stepped in. She’d gotten her mother to ease up. And by easing up it meant she could drive into the city if she had a valid reason to go, but she couldn’t be a minute late getting home, or it was meltdown city.

Stifling didn’t even begin to describe it.

Aunt Francine took a breath and went to go off again, but Zach stepped in.

“Give Arleen a break. She obviously didn’t mean to get fucked over.”

“Because she didn’t listen,” spat her aunt.

The underside of the bed called to Arleen. She wanted to hide. Avoid this conversation. This place. “I didn’t do it on purpose to get lost. Stuff kind of happened.”

“Happened because you lied! You told your mum you were going on a museum tour of Italy. When you disappeared, we wasted all that time looking in the wrong place.”

Arleen fidgeted. “You know I couldn’t tell. I knew she’d freak out.”

“With good reason. You went back to the place that killed your mom and almost took you. Do you have any idea of the nightmare you revived when you stopped answering? You broke her.”

Ouch. Her shoulders drooped. Always with the guilt. Because Arleen had almost died, she had to be Bubble Wrapped for life.

Was it any wonder she escaped?

“Leave her alone, she wanted closure.” Zach came to her rescue.

“Closure isn’t going back to the place that destroyed both of her mothers.”

“I’m an adult now. I needed to face my fears.” Needed to find that stupid box. The one controlling her. The one calling to her, even now.

“Adult, and yet dumb as a rock.” Francine shook her head.

Funny how this conversation reminded her of Zach and his dad.

“Let’s go. No point in delaying it.” Aunt Francine stood by the door and waited, a guard waiting for a prisoner.

On the one hand, she could go after a box that would turn her into some mindless protector, living like an animal and alone until she died. Through door number two she’d have to face the music in the form of her mother losing her shit. There would be tears and yelling, threats, and blanketing guilt.

Her shoulders hunched more.

Zach cleared his throat. “She doesn’t have to go if she doesn’t want to.”

He said it aloud, and there was a moment of stunned silence before Klara laughed, then Pamela, the sound low and mean. Not the greatest cousins. She’d been happier before they moved in with Francine.

“You have done enough. Run back to your king. We’ll handle things from here on out,” Klara said with a sneer.

“I’m not going anywhere until I complete my mission.”

“Hard to complete if you don’t have permission to be in our territory.”

“Are you coming out and claiming it? Because word has it, the wolves already think they own it, and their Alpha is actually aiding in our search for the artifact,” he drawled.

When had that happened? Had he been talking to his Pride the entire time?

She felt out of the loop. Reeling still from everything that had happened.

Perhaps her mother was right. She should never leave home. But then she wouldn’t have met Zach. She glanced at him.

He faced off against Francine as if he’d do battle. For the box or for Arleen?

Help him find it.

The voice in her head decided for her. “I’m coming. Just give me a few minutes to talk with Zach. Alone.”

“About?” her aunt asked, brow arched. “What could you possibly have to say to him?” The inflection went well with the disparaging look she cast at Zach.

The man who rarely smiled, offered a half one that wasn’t amused at all. “What she has to say is no one’s business but mine.”

Did he think it was about the box, or what’d happened? She didn’t know which she preferred.

“It’s our business because she’s family.” Cousin Klara tsked, butting in. “Not that you can tell. Always been selfish.” This from the girl who liked to borrow Arleen’s new clothes and return them with stains or tugs on a thread in the fabric. Oops, how did that happen? But the one time Arleen had borrowed a shirt and Klara thought it looked faded after, she’d had to give her money to shut her up about it.

“Yeah,” piped in Pamela, whose last original thought had come before the hundredth bottle of peroxide. How she even still had hair was a testament to the follicular genetics in their family.

Arleen was lucky. She didn’t have to mow often when in her less furry shape because her fine tendrils were so light they were almost invisible.

“Whatever you have to say can be said in front of us.” Aunt Francine folded her arms. Klara mimicked her.

Arleen bit her lip. Telling him about the box wasn’t the issue, it was saying goodbye. Something about Zach appealed and still drew her, even with her memories back.

Especially with, actually, because she recognized the rarity of her attraction to him.

No one had ever made her heart race like he did. But did she really want to be the loser who admitted it out loud to the hot guy? Would she be a coward rather than try? He’d not really done anything to show his interest. On the contrary, he was super grumpy most of the time. Kept telling her that they couldn’t. Yet…she couldn’t help but have a feeling.

But admitting it in front of her aunt and cousins?

“I need to talk to Zach about the box,” Arleen declared. Did she see a hint of disappointment on his face?

“Always with that stupid box. Send him an email. We’re leaving.”

“Then you can go without me.” Her turn to cross her arms.

“As if we’re letting you out of our sight!” Aunt Francine declared with a narrow-eyed gaze.

“I can handle myself.”

“Apparently, not.”

Arleen’s lips pursed. “Might I remind you that I’ve survived one of the harshest environments on Earth with basically nothing, facing off against polars and the Russian yetis? Twice.”

“Wait, there really are Russian yetis?” Zach asked. However, no one answered him because a three against one war was on.

“By the looks of it, you had to be saved by a man,” Klara cajoled.

“At least I can find a man,” Arleen retorted.

“Do you even know what to do with one?” Klara countered.

Francine took offense. “Watch your language.”

“Sorry.” Klara wasn’t apologetic. She was vicious. “For a girl who couldn’t supposedly remember her family, how did you end up here?”

“Not because I wanted to. The box is close by,” Arleen muttered. She could feel it calling to her from somewhere in these mountains. Probably in a new cave, waiting for her to join it until she got old and another came to take her place.

Zach turned more serious than usual and asked Aunt Francine, “I don’t suppose you’ve heard any reports of any tigers around? A young woman and a much older one.”

“Tigers?” Pamela’s expression brightened. “I always wanted one of those.”

“No tigers,” Francine decreed. “And no more stalling. Let’s go, Arleen.”

Arleen glanced at Zach. He said nothing. Her cousins and aunt looked expectantly at her. To them, the answer seemed obvious. She’d go home with them and accept the verbal punishment coming her way.

But that wasn’t the only reason she dreaded leaving.

She cast Zach a panicked look, but his expression, scowl-free for once, revealed nothing.

“I can’t go. Zach needs me to find the box.” She used him as an excuse.

And for once, he tried to be understanding—the jerk. “If you need to be with your family, go. I’ll figure something out.”

“You can’t find the box without me.” Nor did she want anyone else to find it. It belonged to her.

“Maybe that’s for the best, given what it’s already cost you.”

“At least one of them is smart,” muttered her aunt.

“What if I don’t want to go?” She couldn’t help but huff angrily. She really didn’t. Because she already felt stifled. Depressed. Why couldn’t she be free?

“You’re a Sas’qet. You belong with us.” That kind of declaration by her aunt didn’t help.

“You don’t own me.” Why did her family have to feel like a cage?

“You owe it to your mother,” Aunt Francine rebuked.

Arleen shook her head. “Owe her what? An apology? Then what? She’ll make me promise to never leave, and while I don’t want to, I’m going to break that promise. You know I’m not like the rest of you.” A Sas’qet was supposed to be the happiest in the mountains. Mostly solitary, hiding from civilization.

But Arleen had always wanted to roam.

Francine stared at her. “I am well aware of your penchant for wandering, but your mother isn’t like other people. She needs you.”

If only her love didn’t suck everything from her. “I’ll come talk to her, but I’m not staying.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

The biggest concession she was going to get from Francine. “Let me grab my things.”

Francine glanced at her watch. “You’ve got fifteen minutes. And only because I gotta run over to the store and buy a few things. I promised your mum some yarn she refuses to buy online because they want to charge her shipping.”

Aunt Francine left with Arleen’s protesting cousins in tow.

“Sorry about that.” She felt a need to apologize. Look at the mess she’d drawn him into.

“Don’t apologize. I can see why you’d want to forget. Reminds me of Dad and me.”

“Except your dad genuinely loves you.”

“Your family does, too.”

“In a twisted way.” She sighed. “I don’t know how I didn’t remember.”

“The artifact. Apparently, it has more than one trick.”

She grimaced. “I don’t want to guard it anymore.”

“Then don’t.”

“Easy to say. Even now, it calls to me.” She hugged herself and looked at the north wall.

“Where?” he asked.

She pointed.

“Not very helpful,” he growled. “Still no location?”

She shook her head but had an idea. “Pull up a map on your phone.”

“I don’t have one.”

“How do you not have a phone?”

“Do you? I ditched it because I thought someone was using it to follow us.”

“Good thinking since we do seem to get caught a lot.”

He almost grinned, then ducked his head. “Oddly enough, I’ll miss you, Fluffs.”

“I don’t have to go.” She could stay with him. He just had to say the word.

“Despite the fighting, you should go home. Let your mom get over her panic. Rest. Heal. Forget the box. Forget everything that happened.”

Everything? What if she didn’t want to forget him, though? What if she wanted more than just a kiss to remember?

Getting her memories back meant knowing that what he made her feel was unique. Not the desire. That was quick and cheap. He…ignited her.

He’d also saved her.

Teased her.

Helped her, even though he didn’t have to. And she still had about ten minutes before her aunt came to get her.

She kissed him and felt his shock at the press of her lips on his. She kissed him hard as she shoved him into the wall. He hit it and went still. Frozen. She almost stopped.

But then, as if something within him broke, he began to kiss her back, his mouth hard and insistent against hers, his hands cupping her ass.

Their tongues meshed, hot and wet. His fingers slid past the elastic of her pants. She gripped him. No finesse to her pushing down his trousers. They had no time for languorous exploration.

This was their last chance.

It made them both frantic.

She hooked a leg around his hip, and his hands under her ass gave her the extra height she needed to sheathe him inside her.

She gasped as he filled her. Thick. Hard. He pulsed into her and buried his face in the crook of her neck, sucking the skin.

He whirled so that her back was against the wall and lifted, giving him a better angle to penetrate. He thrust into her. Deeply. Satisfyingly. She clung to his shoulders as he pressed, grinding the tip of himself in a way that had her gasping and squeezing for more.

Over and over, he pumped. Thrust. He gave it to her, and she took it. Welcomed it. And when he would have kept his pace measured and slow, she growled. “Harder. Faster.”

He shuddered, and she cried out as he let go of his passion.

It didn’t take long for her to come. And he roared as he joined her.

He held her after their shivers subsided, and she could have stayed like that forever, but the clock was ticking. She didn’t want to smell like sex all the way home. If she did, she’d never hear the end of it. She threw herself into the bathroom and did a quick clean and coverup.

As she emerged, she heard a knock and a brisk, “Time’s up. Let’s roll.”

His eyes hooded, Zach leaned against the dresser, pants only partially zipped. “Guess you’d better get going.”

“Yeah. Can you let me know if you find it?”

“Sure.”

It was awkward. Especially since he wouldn’t look at her. He stared at the wall as if he couldn’t bear one last glimpse.

Whereas she couldn’t help but soak him in.

Bang. Bang. Bang. “Come on, Arleen.”

She gave him one more chance to say something. To ask her to stay.

When he remained silent, she left. And she didn’t look back.