Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Lion’s Arranged Marriage Chapter 7

Neil

The second floor was superb.

I had a spectacular view of the garden below. Though the suite was relatively small, it was cushioned with plenty of velvet blankets and pillows, lustrous purple and gold echoing through the striped wallpaper. Baroque furniture decorated the carpeted space, reminding me of ancient courts.

Royals. They were such a trip sometimes. Blake was far from royal blood, so I had to imagine this themed suite was his mother's brilliant idea. Shelly had rather expensive taste while her son was more practical.

However, I couldn't complain about the luxurious amendments. The tub in the bathroom had jets and there was enough sage soap to last me a lifetime. I hadn't run out of towels yet and the closet was filled with fashionable bohemian clothes dug right out of a thrifting bin. Just my style.

As I wrapped a thin yellow-orange scarf around my neck, I peered into the garden below me. Most of the shifters around here loved doing laps through the maze or around the edge of the property. Shelly had yelled about it once. Blake had put an end to that immediately.

He loved his pack. He wanted them to feel free to use the garden to their advantage. After all, it was too big for him-his words, not mine. Though I had to agree.

This place was unreasonably gigantic. Blake's father had kept most people out. But Blake wasn't like Nathan in the least. He wanted his pack to visit. He welcomed guests. He put people in the suites whenever their houses were getting remodeled or fixed. He was a good alpha. Although I wasn't sure where the other shifter prisoners had gone, I was positive that Blake was protecting them as well. As any good alpha would. Which was why I couldn't complain about him wanting to house Gwendolyn and me. Because of his goodness.

We were expected to stay inside the grounds. It was impossible for me to agree to that, but how could I say no to my alpha? Especially when Milton had developed our very own witness protection program with Jermaine. The two of them made their rounds in the morning and evening to check on us.

Well, to check on me. Gwendolyn was on the floor above and to the right. She had private access to a garden on the east side of the grounds, but she often chose to wander in the gardens behind the mansion.

The only reason I knew her habits was that I had been keeping a close eye on her. After our little spat a few days ago, I had bitten my tongue and forbade myself from saying another word to her. There's no reason for us to share a suite. Disgusting. Absurd. We had every reason to share a suite because we were matched. We had even kissed.

But I couldn't bring myself to mark her.

It wasn't about love. Lions weren't exactly picky about that sort of thing. Gwendolyn wasn't unattractive or unappealing. She was a suitable mate.

I just didn't want her to get hurt.

Hearts like mine were dangerous. I hadn't grown close to anyone since I was a teenager. Back then, I had met Blake, Tanner, Milton, and Jermaine at a beach festival. Aunt Minerva had just been murdered. Distractions were the only thing that kept me sane.

Though it hurt to dodge Gwendolyn, it was for the best. She needed some space to herself to recover from her injuries, both physical and mental. Then she could decide for herself if she still wanted me. Tragedy often brought people together. If she wanted to kiss me after she had begun her healing journey, then that was up to her.

But for now, I had to stay away.

Because I didn't know if she felt anything real for me.

Maybe I'm trying to protect myself, I thought, and then immediately tossed the thought away. What an obnoxious presumption.

A breeze blew in through the open door. Flowers grew boisterously on the veranda, waving at me, inviting me to step outside. The view was perfect from where I stood-but it would be even better if I went out and leaned against the balcony.

Onto the veranda I stepped. I knew who I would replace wandering below. I knew it was the exact hour at which she strolled through the maze. She favored her right leg. That was why it was important I had this particular suite. It was easy to monitor her from up here. Should she fall at any point, I could swoop down and help her.

But not because I cared about her as more than a pack member.

As an assassin, it was my duty to protect my people. Nobody needed to know about my job. The fewer people involved, the better. Didn't Blake get that at this point?

I sighed as I sagged toward the balcony.

The breeze lifted again and caused my hair to flutter back. Gwendolyn strolled between the tall bushes, occasionally extending her fingers to touch the flowers. She wore a cool blue dress that reminded me of diamonds resting in the snow. Everything about her spoke of winter-yet she remained as warm as a spring afternoon.

The sleeveless dress revealed youthful skin glowing from recovery. Though she was still quite pale, she retained an energetic shimmer that made me think of the sun. Something about her drew me in. Which was odd considering she rarely said much unless she was info-dumping about her favorite topic.

My heart ached. I missed hearing about all those things. The past few nights, sleep had been a challenge.

Just when I considered dropping into the garden below, Blake appeared. He scuttled out of the bushes and said something to Gwendolyn. She glanced around and then procured a folded page from her dress.

My curiosity was piqued.

Even with the ears of a lion, I wouldn't have been able to pick up on their conversation. The eastern wind was blowing too much. The two of them wandered deeper into the maze, slowly turning one way and then another until they were out of sight. But they were hardly out of mind.

***

One week without Gwendolyn speaking stars into my ears had me on edge. I hadn't meant to allow a week to pass. It just came and went as any day might. Yet it stretched on, much like the silence that had sat comfortably between us in that dreadful cage. It was all I could think about as I stepped into the kitchen for a midnight snack. Lions like me got hungry for more than just a lamb chop or a steak every once in a while. Appetites were easy to overlook when one was worrying heavily about avoiding someone. And since dinner was communal, I had taken most of my meals upstairs. Blake had grown tired of me requesting my meals in my suite, so he had forbidden anyone from delivering a tray to me, citing that I needed to get downstairs and face my mate-and bite her,

too.

That would just make matters worse. Didn't he understand that? My lifestyle would put her in danger. Not to mention the fact that she needed to be protected from my ballooned ego and swollen pride.

She didn't need a problem-maker such as myself. She needed to heal.

At least that was what I had told myself for an entire week.

The pantry door stood ajar. My stomach rumbled at the sight, knowing there was some dried deer jerky hanging out in there from Jermaine's last hunt. That salty goodness was about to be in my stomach in just a few short steps. But instead, I ran into someone on their way out of the pantry.

My nose collided with their forehead and my chest bounced right off theirs. A carton of cookies fell to the ground, the box illuminated by the pantry light that was split in half by the shadow of a leg.

I glared at the midnight snacker. "Don't you know you're supposed to announce when you're coming around the corner in a kitchen?"

Two round eyes like Atlantean gems stared back at me.

My heart softened. But my expression did no such thing. "Gwenny, why are you sneaking snacks? You were at dinner earlier. You'll spoil your breakfast."

She huffed lightly and bent to lift the box. "I like to eat."

"Well, you can eat whatever you want," I snapped. Though I wasn't sure why I was so irritated. Maybe it was because my cover had been blown. "Do whatever you please. I won't hold you back." "Fine."

I stepped aside. "Alright."

"Great."

"Fantastic."

She growled as she stepped back into the pantry. "I'll grab these crackers, too."

"Be my guest."

"It's not even your house."

I shrugged. "Exactly. Whatever."

"You've been avoiding me like it is your house."

"That doesn't even make sense."

She fumed with the boxes under one arm and her hand resting on the island counter. "You know what doesn't make sense? Why you've been avoiding me for a week after you kissed me!" There went my plan.

What should have been a protective layer had instead become a resentment.

I had to make her understand this was for her own good.

I cleared my throat and shrugged again. "How's your leg?"

"Fine."

"Put some weight on it."

She hesitated, the box of cookies crinkling slightly as her grip on it tightened a pinch. She bowed her head and turned, exposing more of her profile with the pantry light. Soft features melted like layers of moonlight. It made me want to reach for her. So, I did.

It must have been a shock, for the soft utterance she released reminded me so much of our captivity. She closed her eyes and trembled, limbs locking around the boxes, feet planting deep into the tile floor, energy swirling with a mixture of disdain, confusion, and arousal.

Yeah, that's me, too, I thought. I don't know what to do about it.

Her eyes popped open. I witnessed a thousand stars exploding there, blankets of crisp sleet coating the most distant planets from the sun, turning the space rocks into shimmering glaciers.

At the heart of everything was a warm star ready to melt all that ice away.

It was her. She was the star.

"Didn't you mean it?" she whispered weakly. The boxes hit the ground with a dull thud. "When you kissed me, didn't you like it?" "Gwenny," I croaked as I cupped her face. "You have no idea."

Sweltering heat liquefied me. Under her caring touch, I became nothing more than a speck of dust floating through the universe. How small I felt with her hands swarming my chest-yet how significant at the same time. She dropped to the hem of my shirt, flipped it up, and explored my abs, moaning into a desperate kiss that forced her to stand on her toes.

Cosmic light filtered through my mind. Thousands of sunbeams shimmered through the canopy. Inky tendrils of light wisped through murky water. She penetrated every layer I had applied to keep her out. Avoiding her had been a fool's errand. I'd known I would run into her eventually.

I just hadn't anticipated how it would make me feel.

I grabbed her hips and planted her on the island counter. A few boxes of cereal tumbled over. The swoosh of cereal spilling to the ground quickly followed. She craned to reach my lips again, too short to reach them herself. She was adorably desperate and it reflected very much how deep my desire for her ran.

After that time together, I couldn't forget the way she had cared for me. I had returned the favor, choosing to lean into our match instead of running away from it. Though I wasn't sure I had ever had a choice. Not just because my alpha had dictated it. But because I felt it whirling like its own galaxy in my core.

Every layer of clothing that floated to the ground revealed more ivory flesh. I kissed wherever she allowed, drifting between her breasts as I cupped them and then carving a path of furious affection down to her slit. She parted her thighs for me and welcomed my fervent tongue, throwing her head back as she cradled me close.

Arousal greeted my tongue with every stroke. Her fingers laced through my hair, curled into my scalp, and relinquished the strands in a tumultuous pattern that I couldn't follow. That was good-that meant she was losing herself to my mouth.

Sweet sighs proclaimed her pleasure. Each one felt like silk in my ears, tangling up in my brain and providing that microdose of satisfaction I sought from her. To say I was being entirely selfless was a lie. I wanted to bust one out as much as she did, but I knew better than to seek that too soon.

Her first. Me after. There was a proper order to these things.

What good would my eruption be without showing off a little bit first?

Her nails dug into my skull. I groaned while her thighs clenched around my head, short bucks signaling an imminent burst. The way she swelled with me, the way her hips followed my lapping tongue, made my cock hard. My hand drifted south to cup my throbbing member, thumb drifting over the slit in the head to replace beaded arousal.

It almost hurt to quiver like this.

Every time I plunged my tongue between her slit, she clamped her legs tighter. I knew she was close. I just had to tease her along for a while until she was a puddle on the counter, until she seized with a little death so magnificent that she would have no choice but to come crawling back.

I would have settled for nothing less.

She angled her pussy toward me, groans shortening between gasps for air as one hand fell away to grip the counter. One set of digits remained meshed with my hair. She refused to let me go. That simple fact only made me want to please her even more. A long and sustained moan vibrated through her. She bucked a few more times, each roll far more unbound than the last and producing more arousal with every rotation. She quivered while yanking on my hair, begging me in sharp whispers to focus on her c**t. She bucked again and then bounced back, cupping my face to get me to stop.

One swift kiss was all it took for me to control myself. Her rugged softness, her sensual groans, and her unabashed requests revved me up.

As I stood, I shimmied between her legs, cupping her bottom to keep her close. Warm cum met my shaft and caused me to twitch. She jumped when I angled the head toward her entrance, nuzzling her chin to tilt her head back. My senses led me to her main artery, the rhythmic beat inviting my tongue just as her slit had done seconds ago.

She cradled me close and wrapped her legs around my waist.

"Do it," she begged. "Take me."

But her spirit said differently. Her soul called out to me, glimmering rays of starlight breaking through ancient black emptiness, piercing me right down to the darkest recesses of my being. Mark me, it said. Make me yours.