“And you are?” he asked harshly.
She flinched and dropped her eyes to her lap.
Rhys’s voice was softer than before. “Lindley told me what you want.”
“Does everyone know?” she seethed under her breath.
“Would that bother you?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If that’s what you want, nothing I say will change your mind. I don’t know about your brother, but your secret is safe with me. But,” he drew out the word and took a sip of his beer as if he needed to consider his next words. His smirk returned, too, pairing with a bubbly scent of mischief, “until you tell me to get fucked, I’ve decided to take you on.”
Sage turned her full face to him. Surprise fluttered through her stomach, followed by confusion. “Take me on?”
“Yeah,” he answered with a casual shrug. “Yeah. I’m going to see you wanting to live.”
“What about you?” she asked softly. “Who’s going to stop you from living out your days in a hole in the ground?”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “There’s no saving me, little cat.”
Maybe they were both doomed. Or maybe they were both wrong. “Sounds like someone needs to take you on, too.”
Rhys flashed a tiny smile, and Sage leaned back. She had the distinct impression that she’d stumbled into a trap. She very well couldn’t give up on her own life if she was occupied making sure he made it to the next day without mauling someone.
She expected something from her lioness. Maybe an objection. A roar. Some claws.
The confusing beast simply sank down and watched him.
She jumped when the bar door slammed shut. She and Rhys both landed their attention on the corner where the two loudmouths had sat. Unease crept up her spine at the empty table.
Hector approached again, casting a dark look on the door. His lips pursed as if he didn’t like the taste of whatever he had on his tongue. “Those two,” he said finally, “they’ve been asking about your people.”
Chapter 12
If she hadn’t been sitting, Sage would have sank down to her ass.
Strangers. Strangers asking questions. He didn’t offer specifics, but the gravity in his voice let her mind fill in the words. How many, routines and schedules, maps of the territory and floor plans of their dens…
Okay, the last were so impossible they wouldn’t have even asked, but she was in full tailspin. Strangers asking questions didn’t mean pleasant town chatter. Trouble had hung over the pride since tracks appeared in their territory, and she had the sinking feeling that it’d arrived.
“And that’s why you always tip your bartender,” Rhys muttered, pulling out his wallet and stuffing some bills into the dusty tip jar.
Sage barely heard him. Her breath sounded loud in her own ears. “What are we going to do?” she squeaked out.
“We are doing nothing. You are getting in the truck and going back to the ranch.” He slid her his keys, silver eyes lifting upward.
“What about the others? Can’t they help?”
The door swung open before he could answer, and the two shifters sauntered back inside.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Sage sat back down and pressed her hands to her thighs to hide their shaking.
Rhys dropped his hand over hers. Heat sank deep into her bones, then worked its way up her arm and into her chest. It wrapped around her heart, but couldn’t calm the rapid beat.
“You’ll be safe,” he promised.
His hand disappeared just as one of the two loudmouths leaned against the bar next to her.
“This guy ain’t giving you trouble, is he?” the man asked.
“Fuck off,” Rhys snarled.
“Just go,” Sage murmured.
The other male leaned closer. “Your buddy here needs to learn some fuckin’ manners. All I want to do is buy you a drink. That’s it. Let’s be friends, eh?”
“Rhys,” she warned under her breath. She doubted he’d have heard even if she shouted it with her mouth pressed against his ear. The man left the ranch looking for a fight, and one dropped right into his lap.
His friend pushed between her and Rhys, and reached forward to tug on the end of her braid.
Big mistake. Rhys’s growl turned absolutely cold and deadly. He rushed to his feet faster than she could track, and blasted the man across the jaw with a hard punch.
Sage swore she heard Hector sigh at the other end of the bar, but she didn’t have time to worry about him going for the rifle he supposedly kept stashed in case of brawling emergency. The man on her other side threw himself into the fight, shoulder catching her and shoving her into the bar as he rushed past.
Rhys whipped around at her sudden expulsion of breath. Silver churned in his eyes. The bright, dangerous look locked on the one who shoved her. His hand shot out and wrapped in the man’s collar, then yanked him away with all his might.
Another shove sent the man sprawling backwards against a table, windmilling arms doing nothing to keep him upright. The second was all Rhys needed to twist back to his original target and send him flying toward the door, too.
A snarl sawed in and out of his chest. Punches and shoves kept the fight moving steadily away from the bar. Away from her, really, though she ignored the warmth spreading through her middle at the protectiveness.
She was on her feet and following the destruction as soon as he shoved the first through the door. The second tried to cower away, but another hand wrapped in his shirt dragged him into the sunlight anyway.
Rhys was vicious and absolutely dominating from the get go. He twisted and turned with all the speed she remembered from the first time she saw him out of control in his lion form. While he didn’t have fangs or claws to shred his opponents, he went after them just as
