Rhys shot them a glare, then pressed her forward with a hand on the small of her back. Heat spread through her middle, then raced up her spine. Her shoulders relaxed as the warmth melted across them and down her arms to tingle in her fingertips.
Sage started at a loud guffaw to her left. Her skin crawled under the intense looks fixated on her, but the hand on her lower back kept moving her forward.
“Ignore them,” Rhys grumbled, another glare firing over his shoulder. “We’re not here for them.”
Maybe she wasn’t, but they sure as hell were prime targets for the savage lion to unleash some of his pent-up energy.
Hector, she presumed, scowled as soon as they were seated at the bar. “This ain’t that fancy joint in town. Don’t go asking for no fruity shit.”
Sage’s brows lowered. “Whatever you have on tap. And two shots of tequila.”
The bearded, weatherworn man pursed his lips and eyed her from slits the entire time he filled two pints, then sloshed tequila into two shot glasses. Those he slid down the bar, then stood with one hand on his hip as if waiting to call her bluff.
Something unfamiliar curdled inside her. She didn’t like the shifters muttering in the corner. She didn’t like that Rhys needed a fight. She didn’t like the way Hector stared her down. She didn’t like how he’d mouthed off as soon as she approached. Her money was as good as anyone else’s, dammit, and she didn’t see him making judgments on anyone else’s beverages.
Jaw tight, Sage reached for one glass, tapped the bottom against the bar, then fired the liquor straight into her mouth. She didn’t allow herself time to feel the burn before slamming down the second and pushing both glasses back to the bartender.
“I got limes if you want ‘em,” Hector said with a shrug, sliding their pints in front of them.
“I thought you said no fruity shit.”
Hector harrumphed and made his way down the bar, ineffectively wiping here and there as he muttered under his breath.
“Pretty sure that’s the most shocked Hector has ever been,” Rhys said at her side.
Sage twisted around, and Rhys surprised her with a smile. Only, he didn’t bare his teeth in a grimace or show a crooked, cocky smirk like he knew what was going on in her head. This was a genuine, hand to heart, the world ain’t half bad, smile. And goodness gracious, if it didn’t make her insides simmer.
Sage dropped her eyes. Her cheeks felt hot under his attention. She suddenly felt too exposed. Even with the other groups jammed into the small bar, they weren’t her people ready to shout out some distraction. They weren’t even loud enough to drown out conversation like she could expect from the fighting ring. Sitting there with Rhys—even feeling big and dominant and more than a little scary—felt almost like a... date.
She didn’t know how long it’d been since her last one. Definitely before her father sentenced all the lionesses in the pride to service. Even before that, she’d had to sneak out for dinner and drinks. After, with her options limited to cruel monsters like her father, she wanted little to do with dates. What was the point of filling her heart with hope when she didn’t have a say in her mate?
The heat in her cheeks doubled. “I’m not a cub to be treated with light touches,” she defended, still keeping her eyes down.
“No, you’re a grown-ass woman.” Rhys took a pull of his drink. “Maybe you need to act more like a cub.”
She snapped her head up as her eyebrows melded together. “What do you mean by that?”
“They get hungry, they cry. Hurt? Cry. Miss their mamas and papas? Bawl their little eyes out.”
“So I need to throw tantrums?” Sage flicked a sidelong look in his direction. “I thought you had the monopoly on those.”
“Deflection.” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he called her out. “You put everyone else’s wants over your needs. Cubs don’t do that. Their needs are top fuckin’ priority and they make damn sure everyone else knows it.”
“That’s not how civilized society is supposed to act.”
“Fuck civilized. And you’re wrong. Everything is about wants and needs. Problems happen when people can’t figure out which is which, or won’t back down and let someone else be taken care of first.”
“Is that why we’re here? Fighting was just a want?”
“Don’t be fooled, little cat. It’s a need.” Another wicked smile curved his lips. “But maybe I figured out a different way to do it.”
“Why now? What about that phone call set you off?”
“Everything sets me off. You’ve known that from your first days here.” He cocked his head and fixed her with a hooded look. “You stopped me then. You’re trying to stop me now. Why?”
Sage froze with her drink halfway to her lips. Her stomach twisted and turned under his focus. “I didn’t stop—”
“Lie.”
She snapped her mouth closed with an audible click. One of the other groups laughed loudly again, and she was glad of the distraction that took Rhys’s eyes off her.
All too soon, his focus swept back to her. Words built on the back of her tongue, and she resisted letting them slip past her lips. She fidgeted in her seat, but that only made his eyebrows shoot up and an obnoxious smirk lift the corner of his mouth.
“I didn’t do anything the others hadn’t done before,” she insisted in a rush.
Rhys grunted. “Not talking about them. I want to know why you ordered me to stop.”
She’d expected roars and growls. Blood. The smell of sweat and booze. The conversation put too much emphasis on the feeling she desperately wanted to avoid.
Sage tilted her head and watched him from under her lashes. Crazy lion, that’s what he let the others see, but
