“That’s us,” she whispered. “You made us both.”
“My father showed up a few days ago. He gave me some half-hearted apologies and offered me a place in the pride. I told him no, not because of how everything played out, though that was part of it. The real reason is because I can’t bring myself to leave you.” He paused, then let his eyes drift to her face. “You’re my mate, Sage.”
The words hung in air thick enough for her to pluck them like flowers.
They slowly sank through her ears and into her brain. Her cat twisted herself into knots to hear them again and again and again.
Mate.
He said they were mates.
She didn’t have good experience with the word. It’d meant control for the longest time. Destruction of everything she knew about herself. Death of spirit and, eventually, body.
Her father killed her mother. He’d ripped apart families on a whim and given the females to men who’d pleased him with their viciousness and cruelty. He’d sold her just as easily to the man who treated her as a toy to be broken.
Jasper… Well, he’d definitely succeeded in breaking her.
Rhys made her feel different. He felt different. He was as capable of the menace the monsters carried and he sure as hell was every inch as dominant, but Rhys had a lighter side, too. That side pushed and prodded her in the very best of ways. He made her want to be better.
In the silence, he pressed his lips into a thin line. His eyebrows shot down to pinch his nose. Under his beard, his jaw clenched.
“That’s all I need to know,” he said gruffly. “I’ll leave you alone.”
Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was not what she intended with her stunned silence.
“Don’t.” She said, taking a step forward. “Don’t go.”
He turned to her with uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
“I don’t want you to go. Not now.” She ducked her face, then lifted her eyes to meet his. “Not ever.”
“Sage—”
“I don’t care that you had a mate, Rhys. My heart is breaking for you that you lost her. I don’t care that you went after her killers. They got what they deserved. I care that you’re here, now, and that you don’t push me away because I accept you. All of you. The rough parts that make you fight, and the softer parts that give a woman a carving to make her feel like she can do anything.”
He crossed to her, moving so suddenly she almost failed to track him. One minute he was across the room, the next he had his hands tangled in her hair and his mouth sealed over hers.
Heat spiraled through her body as he pressed her against the counter. One hard swipe of his tongue along the seam of her mouth parted her lips and she welcomed the deep kiss. All the hurt he’d suffered poured out of him. All the longing and sorrow and wishing for some other life. Left behind was the hope for something new.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands trailed over her cheeks, down her neck. He grabbed her shoulders, then continued his path down her body. His fingers dug into her hips, then he ran his palms to the small of her back and down her thighs. Rhys lifted her easily, still not breaking the kiss, and walked her to her bed in the corner of the room.
He took a seat on the edge with her in his lap, then gently eased back with a soft smack. Deep blue eyes searched her face, but there wasn’t any hesitation to find. Her lioness had known all along what he was, but she’d been unwilling to listen and even more unwilling to act.
Rhys untangled himself long enough to reach over his head and draw away his shirt. “Here.” He guided her hand to his shoulder. “This is her mate mark.”
Sage brushed her fingertips over his skin. Scars streaked him, hiding most of the claiming bite, but she could feel the jagged edges that came from fangs instead of the ends of a whip.
She pressed her palm to his other shoulder. “Then this is where mine will go when I’m ready.”
His head jerked up and silver churned in his eyes.
“I’m not replacing her,” she explained. “No one can do that. You’re just making room in your heart for me, so I’ll share space on your body, too.”
The room tipped and she found herself on her back with Rhys braced over her. More silver dumped into his eyes as he slowly leaned down, brushing his lips over hers. Once, twice, he teased her a third time before sealing them together.
She waited for the panic to climb into the driver’s seat, but there was nothing. No sick swirl in her gut, no swimming of her head. Her heart pounded a wicked beat against her breastbone, but that had nothing to do with all the bad she’d experienced, and everything to do with the man taking his sweet time kissing her into oblivion.
She wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Heat flared up and down her body, spreading so thickly that she wondered if she’d ever feel a chill again.
She didn’t feel any fear, either. Not even a hint cut through the desire burning through her veins. Rhys wasn’t Jasper. He’d never pin her down and drag his claws along her skin. She was safe underneath him.
Safe, and very, very needy.
Rhys hooked his thumbs into the waist of her jeans, teasing the skin underneath. He slid them higher, under the hem of her shirt, and rubbed slow circles. He pushed higher, then stopped, almost frozen above her as he tested her reaction. When she didn’t push him away, he pushed higher again, exposing inches of her soft middle. She lifted when he bunched the fabric over the swell of
