Lion Conquers All by Krystal Shannan

18

CONNIE

She stared up at Aarav. He was a beautiful man. Rough-squared jawline, dark blue jewel-toned eyes, and cheekbones that would make any woman jealous. Fucking hot. That’s what Aarav Di’Rham was and he was looking down at her like he was thinking the same things about her.

And she was kinda okay with that…which was a new feeling. A scary feeling. A really really overwhelming feeling. But also a feeling she wasn’t quite ready to let go of and that surprised her.

Those blue eyes grabbed her attention again. As much as she could feel his lust seeping into every pore of her body, she also could feel his genuine warmth and charisma and overall good nature. He was a good man. A dangerous one—he had a lion inside of him—but he was a good man. She knew it to be true in her soul.

He wasn’t pushing her. He wasn’t asking for more. Everything he’d ever said, he’d been consistent and genuine. Loyal to a fault. Protective. He took care of her in every way he possibly could without invading her life. And he’d been doing that since he laid eyes on her.

She didn’t want to belong to a man. But maybe how she thought of belonging was different than the Reylean definition of belonging. She was a mess. Her mind was a mess. Plenty of people had very happy fulfilling relationships and belonged to each other without it tripping them up and causing panic attacks and nightmares.

She equated belonging with being owned.

It was wrong. She knew her definition was wrong. But years of trauma had ruined her. She’d tried to tell Aarav that she was broken. He wouldn’t believe her. He was still there. Every time she turned around he was still there. Still being kind. Still calling her that name—shuarra.

He considered her his even though she mostly had nothing to do with him.

How was any man that patient?

It was too good to be true. At some point he would lose his patience too. He would either give up on her or get mad at her. It was inevitable. That’s why she didn’t have relationships. Ever. She was better off on her own.

She stared at his mouth again. Those perfect lips.

Her fingers clenched around hunks of his shirt. Her mouth opened, but she didn’t know what she wanted to say. She wanted to kiss him, but she was terrified to kiss him. She licked her lips wondering what his would feel like. What he would taste like. And then circling around and doubting herself that she’d like it at all.

His hand moved to the back of her head, cupping her neck. He leaned down slowly and brushed his lips across hers. A feather-light touch.

It was so fast. So gentle.

And teasingly playful.

“Something like that?” His voice rumbled from his chest softly. His mouth quirked into a grin—a grin that dared her to accept the offered challenge.

“Mmmmhmmm,” she breathed out.

She wanted more. She stretched onto her tip-toes.

He bent again, grazing his lips over hers. It was more a promise of what a kiss would be, than an actual kiss.

God. This man. He was still letting her choose. Still giving her the power. She could feel it in his grip. The second she moved or let go of him, he’d release her. She trusted that wholly.

She was safe with him and that brought tears to her eyes.

“Am I that terrible, you’ll punish me with tears that punch holes in my heart?” He dragged his lips across hers once more and then kissed her forehead. He used his thumbs to wipe away her tears, but they kept falling from her never-ending well of pain and surprise.

She sputtered out a laugh and shook her head. “They weren’t bad tears.”

Her body trembled and quivered and shook. She wanted the kiss he’d promised. But she had to ask for it. She knew he wouldn’t push. He’d promised not to push. And now she was crying and he’d probably let her go and then there would be no kiss and she’d wonder what it would’ve been like…

She moved her hands to the front of his shirt and grabbed the fabric, tugging him down. He was so tall. She wasn’t short, but he was still at least a foot taller than her.

He leaned down again.

He was so close.

Only a fraction of an inch lay between her lips and his. She could feel the heat from his body pressing against hers. He had an arm around her back and another cradling the back of her head.

And he just waited.

She lifted herself onto her toes, closing the gap. Her lips met his completely this time. They were soft and warm and wet and wonderful. It wasn’t her first kiss, but it was the first time in a really long time.

His arms tightened a fraction, pressing her body closer to his. Pressing her softer curves against his hard planes of muscle.

He fit. They fit. She liked how he made her feel. It was scary for sure, but not terrifying. It was exciting. The way she imagined it should’ve been.

His mouth moved on hers, tilting, and sliding, and exploring. He slipped his tongue between her lips and a squeak escaped her. But his tongue retreated before she could decide if the surprise was a bad thing or a good thing.

What she did feel was an energy between them. A hunger she hadn’t been willing to acknowledge. It resonated beneath her chest, almost like the purr of his animal, soothing and constant. It pulsed inside her and pushed her closer to him.

He nipped at her bottom lip before he straightened and separated their mouths.

She whimpered at the loss, surprising herself.

And him. His eyes widened and his mouth split into a pleased smiled.

“You stopped.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “I told you I wouldn’t push and I kissed you anyway. I apologize. I didn’t mean to take liberties. You’re exhausted and with the search our emotions are running hot and I have—”

His words tapered off.

Normally Connie would’ve had a problem with the fact that he still had his hands on her arms. He was still holding her so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body and she found herself considering leaning closer.

What did that mean though? What was she saying to him by allowing the closeness. The touching. The kiss had happened and she hadn’t stopped it. She hadn’t wanted to stop it and if she was being completely honest with herself—deep down she wanted to kiss him again.

She hadn’t felt scared or out of control or trapped with Aarav.

In fact, he was still touching her and she hadn’t taken a step back or pushed him away. It confused her. She wasn’t ready to be with him. To be with any man. But at the same time, Aarav wasn’t just any man was he? He was Reylean. And he said she was his soul call.

Evidence witnessed between all the other Reyleans and their mates over the past year and a half indicated that they loved loyally and whole-heartedly, more than any human male she’d had the displeasure of coming in contact with through her past.

Theoretically there were plenty of “good guys” out there who were human. Just none of them had been interested in her. Only the assholes and the bastards and the rotten filthy side of humanity had shown its face to her before she came to Mystery.

Mystery had been where she landed after all that. Where they’d hidden her and given her the ability to start over. She was done with all her involvement with the US Marshalls, now. She’d testified. Put some of those filthy excuses for men in prison—her step-father being one of them. And then she’d settled into her quiet, tiny, non-tourist Alaskan town. The Marshalls checked in on her with a phone call every so often, but that was about it.

So much had happened today.

So much had not happened today.

“We didn’t find them.” The dam burst and she completely forgot she was arguing with herself about why she was still letting Aarav touch her. “They’re still out there and we didn’t find them.” Her body quaked and she collapsed against his chest, burying her tears in his shirt. His strong arms wrapped around her, not in a you’re-trapped-terrifying-way, but a I’m-here-for-you-no-matter-what type way.

“We will find them. The storm is an unfortunate complication, but we will find them, shuarra.” He turned her to the side, bent and picked her up, cradling her like a small child tucked against his chest like a treasure.

But she wasn’t a treasure. She could never be a treasure.

He walked into the darkness of her hallway, toward her bedroom.

A switch flipped inside her and she tensed. She slammed a mental door on the comforting energy between them and practically climbed out of his arms like a mental patient trying to escape their guard.

He released her immediately and backed away. “I’m sorry. Connie, I’m sorry.”

She had both hands behind her on her bedroom doorknob. Her body was shaking like the needle on a Richter scale— 9.0—complete devastation.

“It’s not your fault. I’m broken. Things trigger me and I…break—” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

He shook his head. “You’re not broken, shuarra, you have scars from where you’ve sewn the pieces back together. You are strong and beautiful and a survivor and I love you.”

Tears blinded her. She continued to shake. She turned the doorknob halfway, but paused.

How? How could he love her? She was ruined. It wasn’t fair to give him any hope. She’d been selfish. He’d eased the pain in her soul and she’d let him and it was completely self-serving.

She shook her head. “It would be better if you didn’t. My scars are ugly. I can never be what you want.”

“Do you know what I want?”

“Me. Family. Children. What they all want.” Her voice rose higher and her pulse rocketed toward a panic attack. Tears burned down her cheeks. She couldn’t see him at all anymore. The darkness in her hallway and the blur from her tears had swallowed him up. “But I can’t do any of that. They ruined me.”

She turned the knob the rest of the way and slipped into the deeper darkness of her bedroom. She closed the door and snapped the first lock into place. The thud of the deadbolt hurt like she’d stabbed her heart with a butcher knife.

Her hand reached for the next lock.

Thud.

The knife twisted.

Thud.

Another lock. Another twist of the knife.

Thud.

Her heart broke with that last lock. He wouldn’t want her anymore. Not after this. He’d leave and give up. He wouldn’t smile for her. He wouldn’t look at her with that hopeful expression she’d come to expect from him. He wouldn’t bring her coffee anymore. He’d finally stop fixing things on her house when they broke.

She sank to the floor on the other side of her solid oak bedroom door. A door she’d had special ordered and built and installed by a security company. It was wrapped in steel with four deadbolts and crossbars that snapped into place at the top and bottom. They’d assured her nothing short of explosives would ever get through that door.

She wrapped her arms around her knees and wept. This was her life. Hiding and locking herself away—alone.

Alone meant control. Alone meant no surprises. Alone meant less pain.

At least it had before Aarav showed up.