I screech as I scratch and bite at the prince before leaping back out the window and running into the forest.
I turn and watch as they drive away before I prowl deeper into the woods, I need to get back to the clubhouse and drop a few truths on my mate.
“Mom, did they do anything to hurt you?” I hear Rhys questioning his mom in my room.
“No, honey, all they did was make me stand naked, tied to the wall. The Mayor came in and stared at me, made comments that he always does, threatened to inappropriately touch me.”
Rhys interrupts her, asking, “He threatened to rape you, didn’t he?”
I take this opportunity to enter the room. The sight before me takes me back, Viktoria and Rhys are both wearing one of my t-shirts and are snuggled on my bed, heads together, both lying on their backs.
“This right here is what I’d love to see every day, the woman that has captured my heart and the homme that has shown more strength than I have seen in ten men. I have something to tell you both. I trust you with my life.” I watch as they stare at me, before they separate and allow me to crawl in between them. As I lay on my back, they both put their heads on my chest and their hands on my stomach.
I start with the story my grand-père told me, about how decades ago my great grandmother was walking in the forest in Northern Quebec and came across a large feral cat, the fur was a speckled gray, white and brown, with spiked black hair on each ear. I tell them how that cat was injured, explaining that he was trapped in a Victor Long spring trap and one of his legs was broken. The animal would growl whenever my great grandma approached and would whimper when she walked away. She had been humming the tune to La Vie En Rose and started to sing the words, and the animal calmed down and allowed her to approach slowly, as she leaned down and started rubbing its head.
I told of how she spent hours with the animal and would go back to the same spot each day until one day there was a dapper man standing where the animal should have been. They quickly became friends and slowly turned into lovers. That man was a shifter and the cat that my great grandma saved was him. He told her that he believed he was her mate, and once they were married then he would bite her and his saliva would place the shifter gene into her bloodline, and that any male born to her line would be a lynx shifter like him.
I look to Rhys to see if he is understanding the story. I am ready to tell them both about my ability, but he is sound asleep, his head on my chest and a pile of drool pooled over my pectoral muscle.
“He is out for the night, Etienne.” Viktoria tilts her head back and I gaze into those eyes that completely mystify me.
I bring my hand up, cupping her cheek, asking, “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
She smiles at me, turning her face so she kisses the palm of my hand.
“Viktoria, I want you. You make me feel things that I haven’t felt in ages if ever. I will take this as slow as you want, but I want this with you. I need to tell you what I am though and I need you to be okay with it.” I lean my head in closer.
“Okay, I am listening.” I want to kiss her so badly.
“I am a shifter; my animal is a lynx.” I stare at her and wait for her to react to what I just told her.
“Wait, so that cat that was rubbing on me at the car when your brothers stopped the car, that was you?” she asks, a mixture of emotions scrolling through her eyes.
I nod. I am really not sure what I should say next. Should I reassure her that I am tame, should I explain more about what I do?
“That’s really cool,” she whispers and then smiles at me.
I smile back at her and bring my lips to hers, finally getting another taste of her supple lips, her body moves over mine as we take the kiss deeper.
“Mom, Mom where are you?” Rhys thrashes around on the bed; the poor guy is having a nightmare about losing his mom.
“Next time we need to be alone.” She smirks and winks at me, before shaking Rhys awake.
253
Viktoria
It’s been a week since my rescue and Etienne’s confession of being a lynx shifter. I never really reacted to this information; I mean how can you? The man I love is actually a member of a paranormal entity called shifters, and before now I always assumed that this was just a made up story for books and movies, and now I stare at my man and it excites me.
I watch as one of the female hang arounds approaches Etienne and leans into him on the stool. She whispers in his ear and I lose the composure that I had kept for so long and slam my glass on the table and push back.
“Come on, DoRight, I just want a little taste of your maple tree,” she whines.
I start to laugh; this laugh comes out more demonic than I have ever heard before, but I don’t stop. I grip the back of her fake hair and pull it back, making her body arch at an ungodly angle. “How often do you approach a guy who has shown you that he is not interested? I mean I know there are guys all around here that
