Mercy

By Eleri Stone

To the Yaguara, an ancient jaguar shape-shifting people living deep in the Amazon jungle, nothing matters more than strength. Iada is their champion; genetically pure, she has been trained since birth to fight. Her destiny is to become the next Queen of the Yaguara by winning the tournament of succession—a battle to the death.

Her opponent is Gabriel, a half-blooded outcast whose mother was human. To everyone’s shock, he defeats Iada but does not strike the death blow—instead, he extends mercy, thereby claiming her as his mate.

Despite their enmity, the attraction between them is powerful, and soon they are mates in more than name only. Their mutual distrust serves only to fuel their passion—two champions bested only by their overpowering desire for each other.

But Gabriel has an agenda that threatens the most basic tenets of Yaguara society—and that will force Iada to choose between her people or her King.

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Dedication

For Eric—best friend, biggest fan and greatest inspiration.

Contents

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

About the Author

Chapter One

Iada flicked her long black hair from her face and deftly twisted it behind her head, securing it tightly with two ebony needles that could be used as weapons in a pinch. She would leave nothing to chance. Her opponent was large. In his human form, he outweighed her by at least seventy pounds, all in the form of sleek, firm muscle. Her first impression was of the wide expanse of golden skin across his chest, long black hair tied at the nape and unusual gray eyes.

“Name’s Gabriel Alvarez. His mother was human,” Mateus said as he slicked oil over her skin. That explained the eyes, Iada thought, but not his presence in the pit. Access to the city was generally restricted to those of pure blood, and judging by the vicious nature of the insults coming from the crowd, there were many who were outraged by the violation.

“He shouldn’t be here,” she muttered, watching as the stranger paced restlessly, moving as much to avoid becoming a target for the crowd as to keep his muscles loose. No one stood beside him. She felt a pang of pity. He was even more alone than she was.

Mateus wiped his hands on the damp rag hanging from his waist and straightened slowly, gesturing toward the wall that enclosed the pit. Light from the torches cast wild shadows over the carvings, stylized figures changing from man to jaguar to man again in a running sequence around the circle. In the flickering light they almost seemed to be moving. The glyphs below were nearly worn smooth but she knew what they said. They detailed the sacred law of their people, a law as simple, brutal and direct as the Yaguara themselves.

When the old king died, a tournament was to be held within the fortnight. Any Yaguara could enter. The fights were restricted to human form with the contenders challenging one another until there was only one left standing and the champion was named the new king. He controlled the city, the coffers and the warrior guard. His word was law for the duration of his reign.

Mateus pointed to a stone halfway around the circle and Iada named it. “Any Yaguara may compete.”

He nodded, clearly pleased that she recalled the old lessons. “The laws of the tournament say he can fight. Not even your uncles could stop him.” His black eyes glittered. “Though they did try.”

“Vin said that no one would accept a mutant as a true Yaguara.” And she’d believed him. After all, there was a cold black hole in the temple floor where only two centuries ago they were still sacrificing the children of mixed blood to the fires.

“Vin was wrong.” Mateus chuckled. “The mutant went before the interim council and recited all the arguments your uncles used to get you in as the first female. They had to concede or give you up.”

Iada smiled tightly at that. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had outmaneuvered Vin and Arturo. She rarely attempted it herself. They would be furious. She pushed aside the bone-deep weariness that came with the thought and scanned the crowd for her uncles, seeing no sign of them yet. They would time their entrance for the most dramatic effect, entering just before the thick golden doors swung closed to give the illusion that it was their presence that signaled the beginning of this final battle. As she turned her head, her eyes caught on the stranger again, paused in his pacing, facing down the crowd of full-blooded Yaguara with no sign of fear.

“How did he even make it so far?” she asked with a touch of bemusement.

Mateus’s gaze hardened and he tapped her lightly on the cheek, drawing her complete attention. “That one is nasty as Vin and ruthless as Arturo. Don’t underestimate him. He’s earned his right to be here.”

She glared at Mateus but he only stared at her in grim expectation until she dropped her eyes in respect. To Mateus she would always be a child in need of a guiding hand. But she owed him her respect. He’d taught her to fight. He’d taught her right from wrong and he’d taught her how to avoid becoming her uncles’ slave. His voice gentled and she could hear a thread of amusement in the deep, familiar tones. “No one expected him to make it past the first round but he kept winning and the fools kept challenging him.”

No one had dared to challenge her. She’d already fought them all a hundred times and beaten them all a hundred times in training. She wondered how many fights the mutant had won within the last two days to bring him here. A dozen? Maybe more. What she’d taken as a shadow along his right flank she could now see was a bruise. He’d broken at least one of his ribs. She noted it as a weakness before tearing her eyes away to refocus on Mateus. “You watched him fight?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

He snorted. “I should just let you find out for yourself. It would serve you right. Why weren’t you there?”

“Vin was afraid that someone might try to eliminate me at one of the public venues.”

Mateus swore softly under his breath. “They locked you in again.”

She didn’t answer because she didn’t have to. Mateus knew how things stood between her and her uncles. They’d provided for her since childhood, pampered her even. They could be severe, manipulative and controlling but they were still family. Besides, there was nothing that she could do about any of it until she won this match. She folded her arms over her chest and fixed her gaze across the pit. Mateus turned slightly and his shoulder bumped comfortingly against hers.

“You don’t want to end up a punching bag for him so take him down early if you can. He’s decent on the ground but you’re better. I don’t know what other advice I can give to you,” he said roughly. “You’re the finest warrior it has been my pleasure to train.” The smoke made her eyes sting and she blinked.

“I think he has a spy in the city.”

She turned her head sharply. “What makes you say that?”

“He kept Adrian on his feet and dropped Carlos within the first minute. He knew Daniel favored his left fist and lowered his guard for a split second after every jab. He was ready for each one of them and then he went in and hammered at their weakness until they broke.”

“He can’t be ready for me.” It wasn’t a boast. She wasn’t the best fighter or the strongest but she was virtually indestructible.

Most of their kind shifted fully or not at all. Once the change began, it swept through a person’s body in one long, irresistible wave of transformation. But not for Iada. It had taken her years of intense and often excruciating trial but she’d eventually mastered her unusual ability. She could isolate down to a single broken bone, shift only that specific area, mend the break and shift back in a matter of seconds. She could shift her hands to claws but remain in human form. She could manipulate muscle and sinew in a way that others could not hope to match, a clear advantage in this tournament of succession restricted to human form. The law didn’t account for her peculiar ability. It only forbade a full transformation. It was the whole of her value. Her uncles had groomed her from childhood to win this tournament and become their puppet queen.

A pebble was digging into her heel and she shifted her bare feet, watching her opponent. She’d never been permitted to leave the jungle and she’d never actually seen a mutant before. He was larger, everywhere, but otherwise he looked much the same as any of the other warriors. People called the children of mixed human blood abominations and she’d always imagined shriveled deformity when she bothered to imagine them at all. This abomination was flawless so far as she could tell—strong bones, thick muscles and sharp eyes. She was momentarily entranced by the play of torchlight across the long muscles in his back when he turned to yell out his defiance to the crowd. The corners of her mouth twitched into a smile of reluctant admiration. No, she wouldn’t call this man an abomination, and despite Mateus’s warning she’d never been in danger of underestimating her opponent. She knew how deceptive appearances could be.

He turned around as if he felt her eyes on him and shot her a bold smile, smug and openly appreciative. She was accustomed to the look and did not turn away. She crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her chin up. Let him look if it gave him a moment’s pleasure. He had so very few moments left to him now. She was small. Ethereal, they called her. Fragile. Her early instructors had lamented these flaws until she learned to use them as weapons. If he looked at her and saw an easy kill, all the better.

“Soon,” Mateus said. The sky had lightened and she could see the expressions on the faces of the people watching from above, sharp and hungry. She could feel their tense anticipation and smell the rich scent of their bloodlust. The law of succession didn’t demand that she kill her opponent, but this was the final match and they would expect it.

The doors closed with a bone-stunning clap, Mateus left her side to vault over the short wall into the audience and Iada uncrossed her arms, shaking them loose as her opponent stalked across the pit. She stood her ground and watched him come, taking in the easy grace of his movement, the promise of strength in those thickly corded muscles.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the man said, his arms still open in that mockery of an embrace.

Iada smiled with amusement but also felt a twinge of pity. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. It was oddly touching, really. She waited, following him with her eyes as he circled her slowly.

“It’s the way of things.” She shrugged. “Neither of us has a choice now. The pit’s been sealed.”

He shifted his weight and she sidestepped the swift, darting kick he aimed at her knee. He moved with a supple grace that was unusual for a man of his bulk and she cocked her head to admire the slide of muscle along his thighbone as he tensed to attack again. This time when he missed, she landed a blow to his back, near the kidney. A flicker of surprise. A flinch of pain. It always began thus. He would be more cautious the next time but it wouldn’t make a difference.

“You can fight,” he murmured, and she repressed the shiver of pleasure at the way his voice warmed with approval.

She could see the way his eyes focused and dilated as he reassessed her as a threat. She could hear the kick in his pulse. She loved the thrill of that, when her opponent first recognized their danger. “What did you expect?”

“Silveira trickery. A poisoned dart.” His eyes lifted to her coiled hair and his lips thinned. “A hidden weapon.”

The ebony hairpins had been a gift from Arturo. She’d never intended to use them. Not unless she had to. No point in trying to explain that to this man. It would take less time to simply kill him. She feinted left and he let her, swiveling at the last minute to grab her knee and jerk her leg out from under her. She shifted the muscle beneath his fingers and slipped free when he lost his grip.

Usually this was when they panicked but it wasn’t fear she saw on the mutant’s face. It looked more like regret. “It is true, then,” he said, shaking his head. “Ah, beauty, I do hate to have to kill…”

She leapt nimbly into the air and cracked her foot against the side of his head before he finished the sentence. “Don’t worry, you won’t have the chance.”

She was coldly methodical, ruthless as she had been trained. He was good—smart, unpredictable and so very strong. But she was better. No matter how strong he was, he couldn’t pin her down for long. No matter how hard he struck, she healed before the next pass. It hurt. It always hurt and it was tiring, but she had the edge and she could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

A shallow scratch above his eye was bleeding profusely, blood streaming into the socket and partially blinding him. He came in low and she hit him again in that exact spot. The spray of blood caught her in the eye and she blinked. Just that instinctive reaction but it was enough of a hesitation for him to take her down. She found his wrist even as she was falling, jacked her body to swing her legs around and rolled as she landed. She locked his arm in a submission hold, using her body as leverage, and she had him. In that golden moment, the crowd hushed and their eyes locked.

While she was grinning into those resigned gray eyes, somehow he managed to slip out. It was the blood, she thought, making him slippery as a fish. She felt him twist and slide behind her, one arm curled under her shoulder, his other arm reaching for her neck. She would need to shift. Just there. Just enough to dislodge his grip.

His thick body pressed her to the ground from behind. She tilted her hips and gathered her concentration to shift and he thrust against her, just a subtle tensing of his hips that pressed the hard ridge of his cock against her ass. Startled, she froze, and his arm snaked around her neck, solid and unyielding. He took the heel of his other hand and rammed it in hard against the base of her skull. She was dead. It was her one weakness—the spot high on her neck that most submission holds missed. She couldn’t shift there without triggering a full transformation, the delicate network of nerves and blood confounded her.

“Yield and I will allow you to live,” he growled.

“…to the death.” was all she could get out.

Her voice was barely audible, thready and hoarse. Her last breath, she thought numbly. The roar of blood in her ears was louder than the crowd. His grip was too tight. She could not shift now without triggering a full transformation. Entwined as they were, that would kill them both. While her uncles might prefer that outcome, it wouldn’t be right.

“There’s precedent,” he said. “Quilla and Capac.”

He spoke of fables and fairy tales, a legend of their people older than the Temple or the law. She surged violently to the left, twisting her head. He dug his knee deeper into her spine, keeping her head pinned to the ground while he slowly choked her with his other arm around her neck. He flexed his biceps and her vision went black at the edges.

“Yield and I will make you my queen. Speak now or die.”

She signaled her submission and he released her. Dropping her forehead to the dust, Iada let the roar of the crowd’s disapproval roll over her as they called for her blood. What had she done?

Chapter Two

The Yaguara had prowled the forest long before humans built their now crumbled pyramids, were worshipped by them as gods. They had survived the foreign diseases that decimated the human population, then preyed upon the conquistadors who dared trespass their lands. Hers was a proud people, fierce, some would say brutal, isolated and preferring to remain so.

Iada looked out over the city. This had been their sanctuary for thousands of years.

Most of her kind would leave the city soon, returning only for the festivals and when need required that council be convened, such as this gathering to decide the broken succession. Most preferred to remain nearby in the surrounding jungle. Some traded the small gemstones that littered the caves to wander the world as wealthy humans.

From where she stood on a limestone ledge cut into the mountain face, the canopy was just below her feet, thick and lush, vibrating with life. The wanderers had brought many treasures back to their world, the luxuries and wonders of modern science and technology. The Yaguara knew their human neighbors intimately even while they remained invisible to human eyes. This living jungle cocooned them, a natural barrier to the humans who arrogantly believed they understood the world they walked through.

Sweat trickled between her breasts and caught the rich breeze available only above the canopy. Mere feet below, covered by thick growth, the air was still, hot and moist. Her nostrils flared, sorting the flavors of the wind, monkey, peach palm fruit and wild orchid, the loamy smell of fertile soil.

The light was fading swiftly, twilight dropping like sheeting rain. She sensed the change but her eyes quickly adjusted, edges sharpening, shapes becoming more defined even as they lost their color. Time to hunt. She shifted effortlessly, leapt nimbly from the ledge and descended into the jungle with the night.

***

Iada was not what he’d expected. The Silveira champion, a title that would strike fear into the heart of the staunchest warrior. Gabriel watched the fearsome creature now as she shifted, momentarily vulnerable and swaying as she straightened, not yet stable in her human form. Again he refrained from pressing his advantage and he wondered at his own restraint. He could force her to give him the answers he needed but he stayed rooted in place, watching her silently from behind a Tucum palm, wondering how it had come to this. He’d won the crown and still he was hiding in the shadows.

Claiming her as his mate had not been any part of his plan. He’d known who she was—orphaned ward of Vin and Arturo, a skilled warrior, clever, solitary and cold-hearted. His reports had also told him that she was loyal to her uncles. He needed to know if there was any chance of turning her to his side. The support of a full-blooded Yaguara queen, a Silveira, would be a powerful tool.

That wasn’t why he’d spared her. He wasn’t really sure why he’d done it. Except that she hadn’t seemed like a cold-blooded Silveira when he’d first seen her across the pit, only unhappy and impatient. He remembered pinning her to the ground thinking to end it quickly, and she’d twisted out of his hold so smoothly he didn’t have time to block her. Then before he could recover, she’d mounted him, captured his wrist and rolled in a move that stretched his arm to its breaking point. Flawless. He was all admiration until the pain shocked up the splintering bone to lodge in the pulled socket. Their eyes had met, she’d eased her hold ever so slightly and he’d managed to slip out.

At the time he’d believed that loosened grip intentional. Mercy. Now he was not so sure.

Iada tipped back her head and let the fat droplets of rainwater slide over her tongue and lick lazy trails down her body. She was beautiful, possessing all the natural elegance of a full-blooded Yaguara, black-haired and solemn-eyed with a sleek muscular body. It didn’t change who she was but he couldn’t stop watching her, couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his cock and robbing him of his ability to think clearly.

Instinct told him to take her now and cement the bond. He had that right. He’d spared her life during a death match, and by custom that was a declaration that he claimed her as his mate. When she submitted, they were instantly and irrevocably bound. No ceremony, no white gown or flowers. Only the courtesy of unspilled blood. To Gabriel’s knowledge, it was a custom that had not been invoked for centuries. There was probably a good reason for the lapse, he thought, stepping out from behind the palm and walking forward to meet his mate.

“Stalking me, husband?” Iada called out while he was still a good twenty feet away, not bothering to turn around.

Gabriel stifled a smile. Of course she’d known he was there. “If I was stalking you, you’d never know it,” he said mildly, keeping well out of reach. Her stance was relaxed but he could tell by the subtle tension in the set of her shoulders that she was prepared for an attack. “I already had the chance to kill you,” he reminded her.

She turned her head to regard him over a bare shoulder. He could see the bruises already forming on her back and neck and he checked the impulse to apologize. In the darkness her eyes were black and unreadable and he wondered what she saw when she looked at him—king or abomination?

“You knew about my neck,” she said flatly. “I understand about the others. Anyone could see their weaknesses but how did you figure out mine?”

No reason to hide the truth. “The man who trained me had the same talent. You’ve a rare gift.”

She ignored his attempt at flattery and turned so she was facing him fully. “You’ve been spying on us.”

“My information came from defectors, not spies.” He wouldn’t have risked one of his people here.

She paused for a moment to consider that, the calculating look on her face reminding him that no matter how delicate she seemed, this woman was dangerous. But she hadn’t attacked yet and he chose to take that as encouragement. Maybe she would be willing to listen.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she shook her head. “Why did you spare me?”

Good question. Gabriel stepped closer to get a better sense of her. He inhaled deeply and could scent her on the humid air—wariness, a trace of sweat, frustration and, interestingly, arousal. She stared, awaiting his answer, her face composed, beautiful and very cold. It gave nothing away but he couldn’t shake the impression that behind the warrior’s mask, there was someone worth knowing. Someone capable of mercy. Someone wounded and hiding. It was what had called to him in the pit, tugging at every protective instinct he had.

“You’re not what I expected,” he told her, and she flinched a bit, covering the reaction by ducking her head. He couldn’t help but follow her gaze down past full breasts, a narrow waist and the soft thatch of dark hair between her thighs. He watched her toes curl into the mud and felt another wild urge to shelter her. The Silveira champion. Perhaps the round kick to his skull had done more damage than he’d thought.

Her gaze angled up, rested briefly on his groin and then lifted to his face. His cock throbbed in response and he gave her a wry smile. No point in trying to hide it.

Before he could think of something to say to pass it off lightly, she surprised him again by stepping forward until her breasts were pressed to his chest and his cock was pinned between their bodies. She tilted her head to look up at him and her lips parted slightly. Damn, she was aroused, as hot and ready as he was, and he couldn’t take her, not until he knew what her game was. Her hands slipped down his back to cover his ass and he stifled a groan.

“Iada.” He breathed unsteadily and reached back to capture her hands.

She didn’t answer, only dropped her head so that her hair shifted forward to hide her face. She licked a droplet of water from his chest and his whole body shuddered with the effort it took to restrain himself. Ignoring the clamor of instinct and lust, he stepped back. Her hands were cold and his were shaking. It took him a minute or two before he was able to look her in the eyes, but when he did, that lost look was back on her face. He cupped her flushed cheek. “This is not the reason I spared you.”

She glanced at his cock, still ready, hard and hopeful and lifted a skeptical brow. He grinned. “Not the only reason, anyway.”

She shook off his hand. “You want me. I can see the evidence for myself.” Her delicate nostrils flared. “I can smell it on you. Why do you hesitate? I’m willing.” She tilted her head, regarding him with calm curiosity. “Did you wish to take me by force?”

He made a disgusted noise. “No.”

“If you’re hoping to use me to get to my uncles, it won’t work.” She shook her head. “They won’t care what happens to me now.”

He didn’t believe her but it didn’t matter. He’d already considered the idea and discarded it. “I don’t use people like that,” he told her. “I’m not a Silveira.”

Her eyes lit with amusement. “No, you are not.” She took a step back and tilted her head to one side. “Not entertainment, then. Not revenge. It’s a simple question, Gabriel. Why am I still alive?”

He paused to consider his answer. She’d managed to unsettle him, presenting herself as if she were nothing, as if he were a dumb beast to be tamed by the scent of willing female flesh. She was still fighting him, he realized, only more subtly now. He thought she might be winning.

Refusing to play her games, he decided to give her the truth. “You hesitated when you had the chance to kill me. You faltered and you lost.”

She gave a sharp shake of her head, her skin shedding tiny droplets of water that splattered across his chest. “I’m no coward to flinch from spilling blood.”

He rubbed at his jaw. “Is that what they’re saying about me?”

She regarded him levelly but didn’t answer.

Working to keep his voice calm, he said, “It was mercy, not cowardice, and I extended you the same.”

He gave her a moment to puzzle out that distinction, knowing that it would likely be lost on a Silveira. The rain had thickened. One fat droplet of water slipped down over the slope of her breast and he watched it drip from the point of her nipple. He called himself a fool for refusing what she’d freely offered and forced his attention back to her face.

“Mercy,” she scoffed. “Even if that’s the truth, you must have had some purpose for it. Just tell me what it is that you want and I’ll decide if I can agree to it. We need to return to the compound soon and my uncles will expect me to help them dispose of you.”

He’d suspected as much but he was surprised to hear her confess it. “And do you always do what they say, Iada?”

She looked like she wanted to spit in his face and deny it but instead said, “Everyone does.”

“Not anymore. You side with me and I’ll protect you from them.”

She snorted.

She didn’t believe him. Fine. He’d need to find a way to convince her of that, but first he needed to know if she was even willing to consider helping him.

“You want to know the price of your life?” He traced a finger down the side of her face. She trembled but didn’t pull away. Her arms were crossed over her magnificent chest. Her chin was tipped back defiantly and she met his stare dead-on. He grinned at her and tapped her chin. “What I want from you, Iada, more than this lovely little body, more than the opportunity to strike at your family, is your full and public support.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “My support for what exactly? You’ll need to be more specific.”

He didn’t know what he had expected. A denial or an attempt to bargain. Not confusion. He hadn’t thought that Iada would pretend ignorance. It was a cowardly move and the strength of his disappointment startled him. He gave her a warning look. He wouldn’t be toyed with. Not about this. “You know why I’m here.”

She opened her mouth but before she could deny it, he said, “You help me to convince the Yaguara to take responsibility for their human children and—”

“That will never happen,” she said bluntly, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

Her surprise seemed genuine and he paused. She had to know the reason he was here. He shook his head and let his voice deepen into a growl of warning. “Is this the way we’ll play it, then?”

“I’m not playing games,” she snapped. “You’re crazy if you think you can force that kind of change. Crazy to even want it.”

She moved to step past him and he stopped her by wrapping his arm around her slender waist. With his other hand, he caught her chin and tipped her face up. “It’s going to happen, Iada. You’ve already lost. You can be my queen or my enemy. The choice is yours but I won’t offer it again.”

She tried to turn her face away but he tightened his hold on her jaw. He didn’t trust in her words but her face was too expressive to hide everything. That shadow was back in her eyes and there was an unhappy tightness at the corners of her mouth.

“It would be cruel to bring them here,” she said. “They could never belong—”

“Who said anything about bringing them here?” She was purposefully obscuring the issue. The children were entitled at the very least to financial support, guidance for the ones able to shift. The Yaguara called them mutants and until recently had barely recognized their existence.

Gabriel had been one of the lucky ones, raised in a building owned by a Yaguara who’d chosen to live in the human world with his human mate. He’d grown up surrounded by others like himself. He’d been cared for, made to understand what he was. He’d been taught how to shift and how to fight. Word had spread of their community and by the time he’d returned home from school, that building was full. Gabriel had opened a new shelter, this one a run-down two story home he’d fixed up with his own hands. They now had three shelters in different cities. There had been four until the fire. His fingers flexed into her soft skin and he saw her wince. He gentled his hold but did not release her. “Remember—you came after us. We were content enough on our own until you decided that we were a liability.”

She frowned at him and if he didn’t know any better, he would have believed the innocent confusion on her face. But he did know better. He knew exactly who she was—the Silveira champion—and she had no claim to innocence.

***

Iada stared at him, shocked beyond speech. Gabriel was speaking to her as if she’d been out prowling the streets of human cities preying on little children. She’d wanted to find out more about her husband before she was forced to confront him. Her uncles had always kept her apart and she’d been focused on her training to the point of almost absolute isolation this past year. Her plan had been to win the tournament and then her life could finally begin. She didn’t know what Gabriel was talking about. She didn’t know anything about him except that he was a mutant, a warrior, undeniably attractive and possibly insane.

Except she didn’t really believe that he was insane. She thought that she was beginning to understand—Gabriel’s accusations, snippets of overheard conversations between her uncles, the growing unease among the older warriors. It was possible that her uncles had decided to eliminate the mutants, at least those who could shift. She knew they feared exposure to the human world and that they considered the mutants a liability. They’d spoken once of the mutants organizing and Arturo had ordered Vin to look into it. It hadn’t concerned her then and she hadn’t paid it much attention. She didn’t think they’d spoken of it since.

If her suspicions were true—and that was still a big if—then what Gabriel planned was…noble. How her uncles would laugh over that. At least, they’d laugh over Gabriel’s corpse when this was done and that seemed wrong to her, wasteful.

She needed to be careful here but she couldn’t think clearly, distracted by the warm hand splayed over her hip, the fingers on her jaw that had gentled and were now softly stroking over her skin. The rain had plastered Gabriel’s dark hair to his head, catching on his thick lashes and running down his sculpted body like water over stone. Steam began to rise from his broad shoulders. Something deep within her that cared nothing for politics or position hummed in appreciation. Mate. She pushed that something down and shook her head to clear it.

The kind of selflessness that would make a man risk his life for such a cause didn’t really exist. It had been a very long time since she’d believed in such things. It was far more likely that Gabriel was here for the wealth, the position—for the power, just like everyone else. And he would use her to get it if she let him, just like everyone else.

“Less than a quarter of Yaguara-human pregnancies survive to term,” he was saying. “And of those children, few survive their first change, mostly because there is no one to guide them through it. It is a waste. I’ve been working to track those children to teach them of our kind and to let them know they are not alone. We make sure they have shelter, food, guidance when they need it.” He gave her a hard look and when she didn’t speak, he continued, “I won the tourney and the crown. They accept me, they accept the others like me. They deny me and the Yaguara will shatter.” The rough timbre of his voice was pitched low and laced with anger. A squirrel monkey screeched at the sound and shot away, rustling the branches above them, shaking water down on their heads.

Iada swiped the droplets from her forehead and raised her eyebrows. “You will destroy us?”

With every breath her nipples brushed against his skin. His chest was rain slick and ridged with muscle. She tried to ignore the jolt of attraction. Beautiful, strong, courageous and dumb as a water buffalo. He didn’t even realize yet that he was a dead man. She couldn’t keep from reaching up to touch the bruise on his cheekbone. She wondered if she’d been the one to give it to him. Her voice was gentle when she told him, “They will kill you, Gabriel, and choose a new king.”

His hand covered hers and he shook his head, ending the motion by brushing his lips against her palm. For one unguarded moment, she saw that his own action had surprised him and then that surprise melted into a warm, hungry look that twisted up her insides. Desire. She could see it plain and raw on his face. She could feel the pull of it herself. Could he have spared her for such a simple reason? It was what she’d assumed from the first. More likely than mercy in any case. But then why hadn’t he taken her when she offered herself? She’d spoken the truth. She was willing to claim him as her mate, even if it was only to be for a short time. Until her uncles managed to kill him. Her fingers curled into a fist and his hold tightened on her wrist.

“The Yaguara are a wandering people,” he said. “The only thing that binds them together is their ancient law. The same law by which I claimed the throne. Tell me again what will happen to your people should they reject a battle-crowned king.”

She closed her mouth and looked away. She’d not considered it in that light. Gabriel’s murder would be a grave violation of the most basic tenets of their civilization. But, of course, accidents did happen and Iada knew her uncles well. If Gabriel thought something as flimsy as honor would protect him, he was mistaken.

“So you plan to force the Yaguara to accept the mutants?”

“At least to accept their right to exist. There aren’t many, twenty or thirty shifters and their families. None who would want to live here that I know of. I want the shelters fully funded and the Yaguara to claim responsibility for their human children.”

“That’s why you risked your life in a bid for the throne?”

He paused for a moment then said roughly, “I came because of the fire.”

“What fire?”

The flash of anger in his eyes was sudden and fierce. “The one Vin ordered his men to start. A little girl died in that fire. She was only four years old.”

“They wouldn’t have done that,” she said automatically.

He shook his head in disgust. “One of the men they sent couldn’t go through with it and helped to clear the building instead of following orders.”

“So you say.”

“I’ll introduce you.”

Why would she believe a stranger? She opened her mouth to say so but just then the first hollow drumbeat rolled through the jungle, leaving a momentary hush in its wake. The celebration was beginning.

Gabriel put a hand on the small of her back and pushed her gently toward the trail leading back to the compound. “Come on. We don’t want to be late.”

***

Iada’s uncle had bought her an elegant gown in a deep sparkling green the color of leaves just after a drenching rain. Tonight they would dress as humans, dine as humans and celebrate as humans. Vin had a disturbing fondness for the luxuries of the human world. He’d even sent a woman to see to her hair and makeup.

Iada looked in the mirror and barely recognized herself. She hated the foreign dress and the way that it pulled at her legs when she walked, the inconvenient jewels that wrapped her at neck and wrists, the foul-smelling cosmetics and eye-stinging perfumes. Why did humans seek to disguise themselves like this? Were they so ashamed of who they were? To her eyes it made her look weak and uncertain, a stranger. She picked up a worn leather cord and slipped it over her neck, feeling the cold, smooth stone settle comfortingly between her breasts. The necklace looked out of place with the rest of her finery but she didn’t care. She would need all the courage she could find tonight.

She turned abruptly from the image, tossed the strange pointed shoes on the bed and left for the celebration. The throb of the drums accompanied her up from her underground rooms, onto the flat square plain hung with phosphorescent lights and up the narrow stairs to the flat-topped roof of the city, cleared for the occasion. They would allow the jungle to reclaim it over the next weeks to hide their presence from planes and satellites. Tonight it was crowded with people, with musicians, food and drink. The night was clear. The stars were bright and close enough to touch. A full moon slanted low in the sky, rising, casting silvery light over the tops of the trees, catching wisps of mist and making them glow.

She stood there for a moment to get her bearings. No one approached her. The crowd parted as she made her way forward to seek out her uncles. The rest would take their cue from that encounter. She frowned in annoyance. As much as she wished to reject Gabriel’s charge that she was her uncles’ pawn, she knew it was the plain truth. They all were. If she had any doubt before now, she could see the proof of it in the averted eyes, the bodies turned just so out of her path. She was an unknown factor until her uncles reaffirmed her status.

She saw no sign of her husband, their new king, who would be shunned more thoroughly than this. Even as she thought it, a warm hand pressed low on her back and she jumped.

“Steady,” Gabriel murmured as she turned to face him. His expression was guarded but he lifted his brows, half in question, half in challenge. “What will they think if you run so soon?”

She lifted her chin. “That you deserve it and that I’m a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” he said, offering his arm. She hesitated, painfully aware of the watchful crowd. In an impulsive act of defiance, she snaked her arm through his and closed her fingers around his forearm. She felt the hitch in his step, felt his gaze snap to her face. She met his gaze calmly and nodded. Something flared there in his eyes, hot and fierce. She looked out again into the crowd, her eyes meeting those she had counted as friends or at least allies, accusing them, daring them to deny her. Some rose to the challenge of it, nodding back in acknowledgement, but most simply turned away.

Gabriel stopped walking when they reached the center of the crowd. She hated waiting. She wanted the confrontation with her uncles to be over. And while her instinct was to attack, rend and tear, she recognized the wisdom of waiting for your prey to approach. Her fingers tensed. “You have a plan, I hope?”

“Nope.” That cocky smile was back. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the shelter of his body. His thumb stroked the bare skin of her arm, a subtle claim and mind snaring distraction. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel his heat. She could smell the scent coming off his skin. Unlike hers, his was free from the stink of fear. That too soothed her. She found herself leaning into him without realizing it.

“They won’t hurt you,” he told her.

Iada sucked in a shallow breath. Damn. Was she so transparent? If this stranger could sense her uneasiness, what would her uncles read from her? “You underestimate them.”

He turned his head to look down at her, gray eyes metal bright. “You underestimate me.”

She opened her mouth to answer but then noticed the crush of people parting like water before a shark fin. “They’re coming,” she whispered. “Brace yourself.”

She raised herself onto her toes, balanced herself against his broad solid chest and kissed him. She had intended to make a statement that she accepted this man as her mate, a clear challenge to the watchful crowd surrounding them. She had intended to make her uncles wait for their attention to prove a point, but as soon as Gabriel’s lips moved on hers, she was beyond all thought of political machination. She was beyond any thought at all except the slide of his tongue on hers, the sharp intentional abrasion of his teeth, the need that clouded doubt and reason.

Distantly she heard the sound of a dry cough from behind them. Gabriel’s hand caressed the nape of her neck, skimmed down over the exposed skin on her back to rest on her hip. His fingers pressed into her skin. With a soft growl, he pulled slowly away. She blinked up at him but he’d already turned to face her uncle. It took her several stuttering heartbeats to find the same composure.

It was her Uncle Vin and Aunt Marcella. Good, with her aunt present Vin did not plan to act now. There was still time to maneuver, time for her to learn more of Gabriel’s plans and choose a side. Uncle Vin smiled at her but his eyes were cold. She made the introductions and then stood slightly back to watch the exchange.

Vin’s eyes flicked her way and he said sharply, “Find Arturo.”

Gabriel’s hand at her waist held her firmly in place. He smiled, his eyes never leaving Vin’s face. “She is your queen,” he corrected almost gently.

Vin’s lips thinned in checked fury. Knowing that she played a dangerous game, Iada smiled briefly at Vin and then pointedly turned her attention to Gabriel. His fingers flexed on her hip in silent approval. She would need to be very careful. It would be foolish to throw her full support, her life and her future behind this stranger no matter how compelling his strength. On the other hand, if her uncles believed her to be nothing more than a broken pawn, they might decide to remove her along with Gabriel when this was done. And she enjoyed pushing back at Vin. She so rarely had the opportunity. She pressed a little nearer to Gabriel’s side just to watch the flare of outrage in her uncle’s eyes. “I’ll stay here, uncle. Send someone else to fetch him.”

“You are very like your sister,” Vin said to her. “I’ve never noted the resemblance so strongly as tonight.”

Her muscles snapped rigid beneath the blow. Gabriel’s thumb stroked along the back of her arm, a warning to stillness and a pledge of support in the gentle touch. She forced herself to relax. Gabriel spared her a brief look full of suppressed curiosity. He wouldn’t understand the insult her uncle had delivered and Iada didn’t want him to. Vin’s comment was as much an attack on Gabriel as it was on her. Her sister had been exiled for bearing a mutant child. She and Anna had never been particularly close, three years and Iada’s training separating them. But she loved Anna and mourned the loss. Stupid of Vin to provoke Gabriel so soon. They needed time. She needed time. Iada forced a smile to her lips. “Thank you.”

“Have you met our Anna?” Vin asked Gabriel conversationally.

“I have,” Gabriel said to Vin and then looked to Iada. “Your nephew is healthy and strong. She named the child Michael.” She blinked. She had a nephew, Anna was safe, and Gabriel had understood her exchange with Vin perfectly. He’d only wanted to see how she would react to the insult. While she processed that information, Gabriel’s attention shifted back to Vin. “I have a healthy respect for all of my wife’s relatives and will support their interests as they deserve.”

“That will be difficult to accomplish from beyond the jungle, will it not?” Arturo’s voice expressed only mild curiosity as he appeared suddenly at Iada’s elbow, forcing her to shift her body to allow him room. Gabriel’s feet remained firmly planted, not allowing even so subtle a deference. Iada had to slide her arm around Gabriel’s waist to keep her balance.

“I am your king,” Gabriel said firmly, and the statement seemed to ring out over the crowd. His eyes glittered in the dim light, daring anyone to challenge him. An unnatural silence fell over the celebration.

Vin chuckled. “I assumed, as did we all, that you would be an absent one. Iada is quite capable of remaining here to preside over the daily concerns of the people while you enjoy the rewards of your victory. You have won that fairly.” He gestured with his still-full glass of champagne, slopping it over the rim in Iada’s direction. “Very clever to preserve the girl to attend to the more tedious demands. It was well done. Very well done indeed.”

It was an offer of peace. A murmur ran through the gathered crowd, no longer even pretending not to hang on every word. They would recognize Gabriel as king, in name at least, an unexpectedly generous move on her uncle’s part, and Iada couldn’t help but wonder at it. They must be desperate indeed. They feared this man and the realization sent a shiver of desire through her. Gabriel’s nostrils flared as he recognized her response even as his eyes narrowed. Did he think that she was aroused at the thought of ruling in his absence? The fool. She let her fingers trace the smooth muscles that wrapped his flank just above his hip.

“And if the girl objects to that arrangement?” she asked her uncle, lifting her chin.

Three pairs of cold eyes settled on her, all of them promising some form of retribution if she picked the wrong side.

“She will not,” Arturo said firmly.

Gabriel watched her, eyes blazing. She could feel the tension in his body as he waited, silently urging her to deny her uncle and declare her support for him. She looked away. She could not afford to entirely reject her family. Not yet. Not for a stranger and not until she learned the truth. She could feel the dull rumble of disappointment in his chest when he finally turned back to Vin and Arturo.

“I don’t neglect my responsibilities,” Gabriel said coldly. “Your concerns on that front are entirely unfounded.”

Before they could say anything more, Gabriel turned from them in clear dismissal. Iada caught the look of disbelief in Vin’s eyes just as Gabriel turned her and led her toward the dance floor, which had been laid for the occasion. He signaled for the musicians to resume. One warm hand splayed on the bare skin of her back as he expertly guided her through the steps. After a time, a few brave couples joined them.

“You’re barefoot,” he said.

“So I am.” She balanced on the balls of her feet, enjoying the sway of his body, the firm, confident pressure of his hands, the occasional brush of hard thigh and chest. “You should have given them something,” she said. “They were willing to concede you the crown.”

“I won’t negotiate with them. They’ll learn to adapt. Their kind always does.” She hoped the derision she heard in his voice did not extend to her as well. Stupid hope—she knew which category she fell into in Gabriel’s mind.

“You’ve declared open war.”

He didn’t answer. A few moments later, the music ended and couples swept past them, exiting the floor. She started to follow but his hand closed on hers. His eyes, cool and assessing, bore into hers. “You need to choose a side, beauty. Don’t think to play us both. It is too dangerous a game even for you.”

She turned and left him standing there, watching her weave through the crowd. She spoke absently to friends and family, hoping that her responses were appropriate. Eyes and whispered speculation followed her every move. The tension crowded in on her, lodging between her shoulder blades and clenching around her neck. She found a glass of champagne and a quiet corner, which was where Beatriz, Mateus’s wife, came to her. Beatriz simply stood beside her for a moment, lending support and solace with her easy presence while the crowd kept their watchful distance.

“Quite the man, your husband,” Beatriz said with a small smile.

“I will be a widow before I am truly a wife.”

“I don’t think that one will be so easily killed.” Beatriz traced the shallow scratch along Iada’s cheekbone with one beautifully manicured finger. “You tried.”

“He was the better fighter,” Iada admitted and realized she was smiling when Beatriz laughed softly. Iada’s smile faded abruptly. It was horrifying to believe that you were invincible and then realize in a single day how pathetically weak you actually were.

“And here Mateus has been saying that you were the best he’s ever trained.” Beatriz sipped at the cool liquid, tipped back her head to take in the stars. The hanging lights danced in the mounting breeze. “You would never have accepted a man you could easily defeat as your mate, Iada. Will you help your uncles to destroy this one?”

“I want him gone, not dead.”

“Really? You’re looking for him even now.”

Iada’s eyes flicked up to meet Beatriz’s all too knowing gaze, her gentle smile. This woman had been mother to her since she’d lost her own. Iada shifted her weight uncomfortably and set her empty glass down on the wall behind them. Beatriz said, “I’ve seen the way he watches you too. The attraction is not one-sided.”

Iada averted her face and traced a groove in the stone with one finger. “I want him. I will take him if he offers himself. Physically there’s no problem.” She looked up. “He thinks that I am my uncles’ pawn, that I am a mindless fighter and that I will betray him.”

Beatriz said nothing.

“His opinion shouldn’t matter,” Iada said. “He’s a stranger. The way he says Silveira…Did you know the reason he entered the tournament?”

Beatriz was silent for a moment while she fiddled with her glass. “Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Your eyes and ears work just as well as mine, child,” Beatriz said and although her voice was hard, there was no judgment in it. “You didn’t want to know.” She pressed her hand to Iada’s arm. “Not that I blame you. Your uncles…”

She drifted off and Iada followed her gaze. Vin was approaching from the edge of the crowd, moving as smoothly as if he were stalking prey. Beatriz pressed a kiss to Iada’s cheek, squeezed her hand in support and whispered, “Don’t lose courage now, Iada.”

And then in mockery of those words, she slipped away just before Vin reached them. Iada watched her weave through the crowd to stand beside Mateus, who pulled her close against his side. That was what a husband and wife should be, a voice whispered inside her. That was what love looked like. Iada tilted her head back to smile grimly at her uncle.

She asked the only question that really mattered to her right now. “Did you burn down his shelter?”

Vin jerked back and his eyes narrowed to slits. “What does it matter?”

It mattered on so many levels but she gave him the reason he would understand. “It matters because it’s the reason he’s here.”

Vin sighed. “Don’t believe everything he tells you. He was trying to extort money from us for his pet project. He—”

“A little girl died.”

“A mutant,” Vin corrected.

He said it like it made a difference and her whole world shifted. Vin took her silence for acceptance and bent his head to her ear. “Just keep him distracted, child, and we’ll see to the rest.”

Chapter Three

Gabriel closed the door, crossed to the bar and turned his back on her, leaving himself fully exposed. One of the first lessons taught at the academy was never to turn your back on an enemy. Gabriel’s disregard was an insult even the youngest Yaguara warrior would recognize. Either he did not consider her an enemy or he did not consider her a threat. Iada was tempted to drive a blade into his kidneys to teach him humility. But then, she thought, he was only a mutant. She could not really fault him for ignorance. Gabriel glanced over his shoulder and she could see by the gleam in his eyes that he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile and her fingers twitched for want of a weapon.

“Drink?” he asked.

Iada shook her head and Gabriel turned with a glass of whiskey. He kicked off his shoes, dropped into a deep leather chair and lit a cigar. Tobacco. Alcohol. He was openly exposing his faults. She thought he might be baiting her. He wasn’t really a smoker or a drinker. She would have smelled it on him earlier. He exhaled slowly, sending the aromatic smoke swirling into the room.

“Your sister is Anna?”

She nodded.

His smile was hard. “Didn’t like it much that she got herself knocked up by a human stray, did you?”

“You’ve no right to speak of her. You don’t know her.”

“I know her well actually.”

She closed her eyes to shield her reaction. Anna had been gone for weeks before Iada had learned that she’d disappeared. When she’d confronted her uncles, they would tell her only that Anna had run off with her human lover and that she was to be considered an exile, barred from returning to the city. She’d been shocked by Anna’s desperation. She’d been glad that Anna was finally beyond the influence of Vin and Arturo. And a small shameful part of her had been relieved that her uncles could no longer use Anna as leverage against her. Iada looked at Gabriel, not wanting to ask the questions tumbling in her mind. Revealing that weakness would only give him power over her. Gabriel regarded her coolly, waiting to see what she would do. She realized she’d been fiddling with her necklace when his eyes fixed there and she dropped the stone, letting it fall back beneath her dress.

“Anna is doing well. I spoke the truth to your uncles. There were some…difficulties with the birth but she recovered and Michael is healthy.” Iada glanced up and Gabriel gave her that wide-open grin. “Loud.”

She tried to imagine Anna with a child living in the human world but she couldn’t do it. She nodded to Gabriel. “Thank you.”

“Tell me, Iada,” he said in a voice that raised the hair on the back of her neck. “How could you try to kill your own sister? Your own pregnant sister?”

Her head snapped up and her stomach dropped. “She ran away.”

He snorted in disbelief. Iada felt sick. They’d tried to kill Anna? Gabriel might lie in an attempt to divide her family. Except that she could see by his disgusted expression that he believed that Iada had been in on it. She would never hurt her sister. Anna had been so young when their parents had been lost to the river, only six, and Iada had always felt responsible for her.

The deaths had come right before Iada entered the academy. Her uncles had wanted to send her for training but her mother had believed that she was too young. They’d fought. Iada’s parents made arrangements to travel with the girls for a few years. And then they were dead, washed away in a flood, their bodies never found.

There was no proof that her uncles had anything to do with it. Iada had obediently entered the academy. She’d found Anna a home in the village outside of the main compound and then she’d done everything in her power to make Vin and Arturo forget that she ever had a sister. Anna had never understood that.

“If they’d tried to kill her, she’d be dead.” But she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.

“You keep saying they, Iada. You’re a Silveira too. You can’t say that you really thought she would make it out of the jungle alive when you sent her off with no supplies, unable to shift because she carried a mixed-blood child.”

Iada stared. That they might do. “She’d been gone three weeks before I knew of it.”

“So I’m to believe that you lived with the Silveiras but knew nothing. Did they keep you chained in your room?”

“There was no chain.”

His eyes widened and his expression softened marginally but then he shook his head. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

She shrugged, becoming irritated by his accusations and his pity both. “Why should I believe you?”

“I have the proof to back my claims. Most of what I’ve told you is common knowledge—the shelters, my attempts to get the old king to support them. All you need to do is ask around. I can produce a witness to the fire. The rest…I am what you see. I don’t hide behind other people.” He took another long draw on the cigar. “What other proof do you need?”

“I want to speak to Anna.”

He nodded. “As soon as it can be arranged.”

“And your witness.”

“Done.”

A sinking sensation hit the pit of her stomach, followed by a sudden lightness. If he was telling her the truth, she’d be willing to support him, but it was a dangerous course. She had to be sure. Her uncles would do everything in their power to see him dead, her too if she betrayed them. “And what do you want in return, Gabriel?”

“I want your public acceptance of my plans for the shelters and for you to cut off contact with your uncles.” He grinned. “I also want to know that I can close my eyes tonight without you trying to drive a knife into my chest.”

She smirked. “I would want you awake. I’d use my own fangs and I’d go for your throat. The first two I’m willing to consider.”

He looked startled and then he laughed, a rich, deep sound that warmed her from the inside out. She pushed aside the way it made her want to smile back and asked, “What is your plan to deal with my uncles?”

He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that, Iada.”

“You don’t trust me.”

“I can’t afford to, not yet. We start here.”

She blew out a harsh breath in exasperation. “So I trust you, support your cause, defy my family and you give nothing.”

“I spared your life and I’m giving you a chance to slip your leash. Why would you fight me?”

She watched him warily, searching for the trap in the question. He looked right back at her. His expression was expectant and wary, but there was no malice there that she could see. Perhaps she’d taken a blow to the head. What she wanted to do was crawl into his lap, rest her head on his wide chest and let his arms close around her.

Finally she shrugged. “It’s all that I know how to do.”

They stared at each other, the silence stretching between them. They’d reached an impasse and she wanted to be the one to break it, to regain some control. She didn’t really want to keep talking anyway. So she reached back with one hand and released the catch of her dress, letting the slippery fabric slither down her body to pool around her bare feet. With a predator’s instinct, she noted how still Gabriel became, the subtle widening of his eyes and the soft, sudden intake of breath. She imagined she could hear the blood rushing through his veins. She smiled with genuine amusement. How curiously vulnerable he seemed. How powerful his response made her feel. The balance of power shifting on the whisper of silk.

For a long time, he simply stared. Then, carefully, he set aside his drink and stood. “Come here.”

She crossed the room, already having made a decision about this man and how the night would end. Her uncles expected her to feign submission. They didn’t need to know that she was willing, more than willing to accept Gabriel as her mate. The only question was whether he’d be willing to accept her. She didn’t know how to begin to convince him. She was not good with words and already they’d failed her.

Gabriel unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it from his shoulders and leaving it where it dropped. When he began to loosen his belt, she closed the distance between them and took over that task. His posture was relaxed, his hands hanging open and loose, but his eyes were intently focused, narrowed on her. Another test, she imagined, but didn’t care. His suspicions wouldn’t interfere with what she wanted from him right now. She tossed the belt down, the metal clasp clanking against the iron leg of the side table and then she undid his pants, slipping her hands just inside the waistband and hooking her thumbs over linen and silk. The fabric snagged on his erection and she pulled at the front to release him.

His cock was hard, not overlong but broad tipped and thick. Crouching, she skimmed his pants down over a fine, firm ass and well-muscled thighs. His balls tightened when she accidentally grazed him with her fingernail. She let her bowed head hide a quick smile. Whatever reservations her mate had about her, this part of him clearly did not share in them.

He touched her hair, a gentle touch sifting through the loose strands at her temple. “Did your uncles direct you to do this?”

Yes, of course. But that wasn’t really what he was asking. “No.”

She stood up while he stepped free of his clothes. She stood just at his shoulder, maybe a little taller, and his chest was just below her eye level—smooth, sun-darkened skin with just a light furring of hair between his pectoral muscles, a thin line of it starting again on his lower abdomen. The skin seemed nearly stretched tight over muscle in places and she wondered if he was as hard everywhere as he looked.

He tipped up her chin and there was no missing the suspicion in his narrowed eyes. “You understand I will not force you to do this.”

She nodded.

“I want you.” A shadow of that wonderful smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “There’s no hiding that fact. If you accept this, you accept my claim over you. It’s time to choose a side, Iada.”

When she hesitated, he stroked her cheekbone with one blunt-tipped finger. She knew the right answer, the one that would give her what she wanted, but she hesitated, flinching away from the intensity in those strange pale eyes.

“You’re asking me to choose between a stranger and my family.”

“Your family was willing to send you to your death,” he reminded her and then his voice deepened in warning. “This is not negotiable.”

She placed a hand on his chest and looked up, meeting his level gaze. A muscle beneath her fingertips twitched then went still. “Tell me why I should support you.”

She expected him to extend his protection, such as it was. She expected promises of wealth and position. Instead, he said, “I would never use you and cast you aside if you became inconvenient. I wouldn’t send you to face death in my place.”

He sounded like he meant it. Before she could weigh the risks or calculate her odds of survival, she found herself answering, “I’ll help you as much as I can. You overestimate my influence.”

He didn’t look entirely convinced. Her hand fell away when he stepped back and reseated himself, regarding her coolly for several moments. He was taking back her control and she had no idea how to stop him. He had something that she wanted badly enough to keep her standing there meek and motionless awaiting his decision. There was his body, thick and blunt and powerful just like the cock jutting from his lap. There was his strength that she wanted to wrap around her and claim as her own. There was the impression she had of him that he was an honest man. Even though the logical part of her thought that his decency was an illusion, it seemed real enough for tonight.

She shifted her feet impatiently and he watched her silently. She’d never seen eyes like his in real life, not up close. Slivers of blue shot through the smoked silver. There was lust there, burning like banked coals, but there was also calculation and a good deal of mistrust. She didn’t blame him for that. He’d been expecting another fight from her and her compliance would make him uneasy. The ice shifted in his empty glass. His gaze, which had drifted down over her body, lifted again to her face. “Take me into your mouth, then.”

The look he gave her was hard and predatory and sent a delicious heat spreading from low in her belly. The light from the table lamp came from one side and left most of his face in shadow. The rest was highlighted harshly, all sharp planes and angles. For the first time since she’d seen him, there was not even the hint of a smile on his face. He went very still as she spread his knees and knelt between his muscular thighs. Had he expected her to balk? She’d only been waiting for the invitation. Gabriel had accused her of fighting him—and maybe it was true—but he wanted control as much as she did. He was wrong if he thought this would gain him an advantage.

She wrapped both of her hands around his base, fingers overlapping, thumbs stroking upward and angling the tip so that she could close her mouth over him. She could feel the pulse of blood beneath the hot, satiny skin and she met his eyes briefly before bending her head. She smoothed her lips over the knobbed head and explored him with her tongue, the soft slit and firm flared edge, the sensitive notch on the underside that made his breath pause when she pressed her tongue to it. She flexed her palms gently against his shaft in an idle massage and, when she made a second slower pass, she could already taste a bitter slick of pre-come.

She let him feel her teeth in a long, soft scrape, angling downward then sucking and nibbling her way back up to the top. She had to open her mouth wide—he was very thick. The thin skin at the corners of her mouth was stretched taut. She glided her mouth down his length, taking in as much as she could comfortably handle but not pressing any farther. When he lightly touched his hand to the back of her head and murmured “Yes,” she took a little more. He groaned again, a deep, rumbling growl that shook his body and she pulled back, sweeping her tongue up in a gentle caress.

She could feel him trembling, his great body held to stillness by the barest thread of control, every muscle as rigid as the flesh in her mouth. All of his attention was fixed on the stroke of her tongue. She could take that control away from him in an instant with just the pressure of her mouth.

She cupped his sac with one hand, testing its weight, feeling his balls draw in tight. She fell into a rhythm and his breath came faster. The sound of his breathing filled her ears, punctuated by the soft click of wet suction. Every hitch of breath, every little twitch of his body made her clit pulse in response. He murmured her name and she moaned at the plea in it. He’d asked her to do this as a challenge, she knew, a test demanding proof of her submission. But she was in control here. He was the one who was vulnerable. It was a heady feeling to master him but it wasn’t what she really wanted.

Gabriel’s fingers clenched in her hair and he flexed his hips, forcing himself down her throat until his coarse hair tickled at her nose. He groaned and she thought that he would release then but he held back, steadying her with a touch to her cheek and pulling himself free.

His cock bobbed in front of her face—flushed, hard and wet from her mouth. It looked nearly painful to her and she wondered why he’d not let her relieve him. The sound of his ragged breathing told her exactly how close he’d been. He smelled sharply of sweat, need and frustration.

“Fetch me a drink, won’t you?” he said harshly.

She glared at him, pushed herself to her feet and swiped the spit from her mouth. When she turned toward the bar though, cup in hand, she was smiling. She’d learned from him what she required. Her mate was far less in control of himself than he would have her believe. He wanted her nearly as badly as she wanted him. It was enough for her to work with for now.

He sounded disgruntled when he spoke to her back. “You are committed, I’ll give you that. To me or to the lie, I can’t tell.”

The muscles in her shoulders began to stiffen but she forced them to relax, forced them to drop in a shrug. “There’s no way that I can convince you of my loyalty. Did you really think my willingness to mate with you would be a true test?”

Iada poured out two fingers of whiskey and looked thoughtfully at the glass. She didn’t know how much he’d taken at the party and she did not want him drunk. She downed half of it herself.

“Loyalty.” Gabriel’s voice came from directly behind her and she went still. His hand closed over hers and forced the glass back down to the polished granite countertop. He stood there, not touching her, allowing her to become accustomed to his presence, the heat of his body, his scent wrapping around her. “Is the Silveira champion even capable of that, I wonder—loyalty, affection, trust?”

Still holding his body apart from her, he lowered his face to the curve of her neck, burrowing into her hair, nuzzling her there until his lips were pressed firmly against the spot where her pulse was thrumming. “Do you trust me, Iada?”

The question knotted her stomach and sent a chill over her skin. Could she trust him? Anyone? He flicked out his tongue and licked her.

“Show me again how sweetly you yield.” His voice vibrated through to her core. “Prove that you trust me at least. That you might be worthy of my trust.”

Iada had never met anyone like him. Despite his explanations of hesitation and mercy, she knew that he had bested her fairly. He was the only man to do so since she had reached maturity and gained the ability to shift.

Gabriel was strong and clever, a fearless fierce warrior. She remembered the way he had entered the pit alone, unmoved by the hostile crowd, then later when he had confronted her uncles and they feared him. She’d been thoroughly overwhelmed by his strength and thoroughly, unexpectedly aroused by it. In the pit. Here. Now in his bedroom, her knees pressing up against the edge of the bar while his heat surrounded her from behind.

Not even moving now. Why didn’t he move? His breath stirred the hair on her neck. She could feel him, the tension and restraint. She could smell his arousal. Yet he remained utterly, maddeningly still. With a flash of insight, she realized he was waiting for her decision. Her breathing quickened along with her pulse and Gabriel snarled low in his throat as he sensed her response. How novel. She had no familiarity with that kind of consideration. In her life, her family made the decisions and she obeyed. This mutant waited for her.

With slow deliberation she reached back and skimmed her hands up his bare thighs, the cool hair tickling her palms. Her thumbs met and traced the angled ridge of muscle just above his hips and she tipped her head back to rest against his hard chest. She could feel the frantic thud of his heartbeat but still he waited.

Only then did she lean back fully. He curled his arm around her body, anchoring his hand on her opposite shoulder and locking their bodies tight together. He pivoted to the right so that they were standing before an old mirror mounted directly to the stone wall, tacky with gilt and shadowed with age. As they turned, her legs automatically twined through his in a bid for control.

The urge to shift was just below the surface, the instinct trembling through every limb, definite arousal twisted around her fear of surrender. She could feel it in his body as well, coming off him like an electric current.

“Will everything between us be a battle, Iada?” he chided gently, untangling his legs and rebalancing himself. He flicked at a tender spot just beneath her ear with his tongue and nibbled his way down along her neck to her shoulder. She felt his teeth drag against the skin there, then bite lightly. A shudder ripped through her.

“Put your hands against the mirror,” he murmured, voice thickened to nearly a growl.

She hesitated briefly and then leaned forward. The mirror was cool to the touch. The heat from her hands steamed outlines onto the glass. He lifted his face from her neck and his gaze met hers, gray eyes bright with triumph.

Spreading her legs with his own, he positioned her. She could feel his erection nudging at her. He was taller than she was and he pulled her hips up and back. Stretched onto her toes and bending forward, she was balanced awkwardly, his hold the only thing keeping her from falling as he worked himself inside. He was thick and hard and it took him some time even though she was so ready for him, she ached with it. With only the head of his cock inside her, he tested the angle with a slick nudge into her wetness and a dragging retreat. Then he repositioned himself slightly and with the next thrust went deep. The way that she was positioned, she could not help him, only feel as her delicate skin was parted and stretched, tremble when he was finally planted fully inside her.

He thrust again and her arms buckled. He removed a hand from her hip to wrap his arm around the front of her body to support her. His thick forearm wedged between her breasts, fingers at her collarbone. He groaned and dragged his flesh nearly all the way out, big arm flexing to hold her still as he pushed back inside.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered, moving his hand to her breast. She had fine breasts, large enough to at times be a nuisance in a fight, but his big hand completely covered her. He traced her areola and then lightly pinched the stiffened nipple. Her hand slipped on the mirror, slick from her palms.

“Hands on the glass,” he commanded and she repositioned her arms slightly wider.

He kept the pace slow, with smooth thrusts and lazy withdrawals that pulled at her flesh and made her feel every inch of him. With his hand he spread her labia so that he could see her fully exposed in the mirror. Pink flesh glossy and swollen with need. She could see his legs behind and between hers, see just the edge of his heavy sac, swaying when he moved. She could feel the bounce of it against her thighs when he lodged himself deep. Brushing his thumb over her clit, he teased her with light strokes. She tried to press into his hands but he only chuckled, a low rumble against her back and withdrew his hand momentarily.

“Patience, Iada,” he whispered near her ear, and then slid his hot, open mouth down her neck to her shoulder. “Trust me.”

He slipped two fingers down through her folds until they rode against his cock and then moved them back up to tease at her clit. She felt the pinch of his teeth on her shoulder and a soft moan escaped her parted lips. With the next thrust, he moved his fingers more firmly against her and she tried to angle her hips to keep him there. Impossible in this position. She had to take what he gave her. Trust, he’d said. She watched him through slit eyes, his hands on her body, his calloused fingers exploring her with a gentleness that shocked her.

She closed her eyes. Close now. She was so close to that last surrender.

“Look at me,” he whispered harshly. When she opened her eyes, gray eyes bore into hers. “Don’t close your eyes against who I am. What I am.”

He pressed the heel of his palm hard against her while holding himself deep, jamming into her with short, hard strokes. Gabriel’s jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed and fixed on hers. And she came, her knees buckling and her hands squeaking on the glass as they slipped. The only thing holding her upright was Gabriel’s body gone rigid with his own release, and then he was shaking too. He reached out with one hand to steady himself against the mirror and curled his body over her back.

***

He lifted her easily and carried her to the bed, lying down beside her and pulling the covers over them both. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and turned off the lights. As an afterthought she lit the fire. Why not? It was her wedding night, after all. She could pretend to romance. She’d always wondered about it. Gabriel pulled her to him and tucked her head against his shoulder.

“How was that for a mutant?” One arm was tucked behind his head, the other curved around her shoulders. His fingers traced lazy circles on the bare skin of her back.

She smiled against his damp chest. “Acceptable.” She would not pander to the weakness such a question represented. He swatted her rear and she pulled closer against him. “And I have never called you names,” she added.

“I can see it in your eyes, Iada. The same as all the others. I know what you think of me.”

“Obviously you do not.”

His fingers closed in the hair at the nape of her neck and tugged her head back so that he could look in her face. “You believe mixed blood is inferior.”

She would not lie. “Yes.”

His fingers tensed for just a moment before he suddenly released her. “You believe that I am inferior.”

“No.”

“Unique, then?” He chuckled, a low rumble beneath her breasts. He must have seen the answer on her face. “I’m not as unique as you think. Not even as unique as I would like to think.”

She looked at him steadily. “Show me. You’re the first person of human birth I’ve met. You could take me to your city, show me the others, let me see Anna.”

His fingers stilled in their circuit along her spine. “Trying to remove me from the compound?”

“I want to see the truth for myself. I’m risking everything to support you and we have no allies here. I assume you have friends who would return with us? We’ll need to gather people to protect us before we’ll be able to gain any support from the others. You must see that.”

She pushed to a sitting position and realized her mistake as soon as his eyes dilated and his attention drifted to her breasts. He skimmed his work-roughened hand over her skin, catching her nipple in the crevice between two fingers, and squeezed lightly. Her nipple instantly tightened in response.

“Is there no one here who will aid you?” His gaze lifted and there was a curiously pitying expression on his face.

“No one who is beyond manipulation. Even Mateus would yield if my uncles were to threaten Beatriz.”

He slowly nodded, then wrapped his strong fingers around her arm and jerked her forward so that her face was only inches from his. “If you work with your uncles to manipulate me in any way, Iada, your reign will be brief and violent.”

She closed the distance and licked his tightly compressed lips, swallowed down the growl that passed through them as they parted for her. There was never much hope that it could have been otherwise.

Chapter Four

Gabriel watched Iada’s brow furrow and he wondered what unhappy dream disturbed her sleep now. She was a restless sleeper. At one point in the night, her breath had hitched in a broken sob and then she’d hissed in pain. He was rolling to his feet to meet the threat before he’d realized she was still sleeping. She hadn’t settled until he’d pinned her arms to her sides and thrown one of his legs across her body. And then she’d curled against him so sweetly and so trustingly that it made him uneasy. She didn’t feel like his enemy when she was in his arms. She tucked one small hand between his thighs and then he was the one who couldn’t sleep.

He didn’t know what to do with her. He’d spared her and he knew she saw that as a weakness. He knew as well that strength was the only currency in her world. It alarmed him, this instinct to shield her. He’d never met anyone less in need of a champion. Of course, that was refreshing in and of itself. He guarded so many who were weaker than he was; it was nice to be relieved of that constant pressure even if only for the night. He skimmed his knuckles over the sharp angle of her jaw. She was tough, this one.

He’d stolen her crown, threatened her family and demanded her complete submission. She’d never once flinched from his demands and he wondered at that. The Yaguara were not known for their humility and Iada had been their champion. Yet she’d conceded to every demand, responded so passionately to his touch that he had no doubt that her desire at least matched his own. Maybe it was arrogance to believe that. Maybe she was simply that good of an actress. He couldn’t really be sure.

He’d seen her whispering in the corner with Arturo before they left the celebration and Gabriel knew that her loyalty would be with her family, not with him. But she was Anna’s sister and he held out a small hope that he might change her allegiance. The Silveira champion and a full-blooded Yaguara queen. If he could convince her to support him, she would be a formidable ally.

He bent to lace his shoe and then rose from the bed. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Iada was awake. Eyes wide, she looked uncertain and oddly vulnerable and his breath caught even knowing that it was an illusion. He could not afford to coddle her and she would not thank him for it.

“Get ready,” he said. “We’re leaving the compound.”

She pushed up and the sheet slid down her back, revealing her breasts, full through the bottom and tipped by dusky nipples that tightened under his gaze. Focus, he reminded himself. His eyes caught on the smooth river stone dangling between those lovely breasts. Leaning forward, he took it in his hand. He noticed the way Iada started to raise her hand to snatch it away but she checked herself midmotion. Hiding something. She was so tightly controlled. Even when he’d been buried inside her, he could feel her restraint. She held so much of herself back, he wondered if he would ever truly know her. He ran his thumb over the flat stone, gray, roughly triangular in shape and completely unremarkable save for the irregular hole that had formed near its center. A child’s treasure. He lifted his eyes to Iada’s face. “What is this?”

Her features were carefully remote. “A good luck charm.”

Bullshit, he thought but decided it wasn’t worth the fight. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

“So soon?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Your idea. You told me yourself not to expect your uncles to honor their own laws.”

“There is only one law,” she said flatly. And if she sounded like she was repeating something from rote, that was forgivable. She was Academy trained.

“Strength.” He completed the statement for her. Her eyes narrowed and he laughed. “What? Did you think this was a whim? That I came here entirely unprepared? Lumbered into the compound at an inconvenient time demanding to fight someone?”

He could tell by her expression that was exactly what she’d believed. Her lips pursed and his cock twitched in response. He resisted the urge to adjust himself. “We know far more about you than you know about us,” he told her. “You’ve considered us negligible at best.”

And damn if she didn’t look confused by that. He could almost believe that she was ignorant. But ignorant did not mean innocent. She was Anna’s sister. She had to have known about that at least or else why had she not sought out her sister by now. An image came to his mind, tiny Anna, bloody and stick thin save for her swollen belly. He held that image to him as he looked again at Iada.

“Ten minutes,” he said. “I won’t give your family time to ambush us.”

“I can’t pack—”

“Don’t.” He cut her off. “You wanted to see the truth of how the mutants live and I intend to show it to you.”

She stood up and walked toward the bathroom, haughty as a queen. Which she was, he reminded himself. Entirely immodest. But, he supposed, she had no cause for modesty. Her body was perfection, long, lean lines and packed muscle beneath firm curves, flared hips, full breasts. He wanted to take her again but there was no time. Dawn was already two hours past. He was hungry but he would take no food at the compound until his own people were here to prepare it. They could hunt once they’d crossed the river.

Iada was there exactly ten minutes later, dark hair pulled from her face in a ponytail and dressed in a yellow sundress that dropped to midthigh. He let her precede him though he knew well enough the layout of these tunnels. He’d been studying them for months. Iada glanced over her shoulder and slipped through a narrow slit in the wall. He hesitated only briefly before following her. He had to duck his head and hold his breath to make it through and even then he lost a layer of skin across his chest. This place was not on the maps.

Pitch-black. He felt his way forward, following her scent, expecting the floor to fall out from beneath him with each step. He’d demanded her trust last night. He could give her this if it made her feel safe. After all, the blind, groping faith that had him taking the next step and hoping that his foot met solid earth was the same as the rest of their mating. It occurred to him that she might be leading him to his death. The floor dipped and he stumbled, catching himself on the wall of the tunnel. He swallowed down a curse and his heart, which had lodged up in his windpipe. He could hear Iada breathing and she touched his arm.

A moment later she turned on a flashlight. He saw a basket holding more fixed to the stone. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that he was less than a dozen feet from the entrance. Iada smirked at him when he looked back at her.

“You could have warned me.”

She arched one ink-black brow. “You could have trusted me.”

“Where are we?”

“This will let us bypass the main tunnels. It lets out directly into the jungle. We’ll still have to pass the outer guard before we can leave the compound.” She started walking and he followed. This was a natural tunnel and the ground and walls were damp and uneven. He found himself wishing he’d grabbed a flashlight too as he tried to keep Iada’s pace. By the easy way she placed her feet, he could tell she was well familiar with this narrow passage and he found himself wondering why the Silveira champion would need to travel these dark passages.

“Do you expect them to try to stop us? I would think they’d be more than happy to see me leave.”

“It’s about control,” she said, not turning. “They’ll want to keep an eye on you. I don’t think they’ll try to kill you outright here. At least not so soon. Although if they can find someone willing to sacrifice themselves to attack you…”

“Their hands would be clean,” he finished with disgust. “They would punish the murderer, have a new tournament and you would be queen.”

Her shoulders stiffened but she only said, “Yes.”

Sweat trickled down his spine. “Why are you leading us this way, then, Iada? They might have already made arrangements.”

She did glance back then but the expression on her face was closed off again, completely unreadable. “They might have, yes.”

They were silent the rest of the way through the dank tunnel and a few minutes later they stepped out into the deep shade of the jungle floor. Iada turned onto a path leading toward the river. Gabriel took a deep breath through his nose, sorting out the scents. There was little breeze here, which was good. The canopy trapped the air, making it easier to sort. He scented Yaguara, of course, but none that had been here recently enough to be lying in wait. The sounds of birdsong and monkey chatter were natural and undisturbed. He took one last look around and then followed his mate.

They made it nearly to the tunnel that would bring them down to the river before they were stopped. A pair of Yaguara, shifted to jaguar form, lay over the entrance and a burly man stood, legs braced, blocking the path. Iada’s step never faltered. She walked right up to the warrior until she had to tip back her head to fix that glare on him. Gabriel didn’t like the insolent smile the man gave her and he took a step forward before stopping himself. She’d lost the tournament yesterday. Her uncles were clearly displeased with her. Iada was in a precarious position just now and she would need to handle this herself if she wanted to regain the respect of her brethren. Growing up in the human world made him forget sometimes that to the Yaguara weakness meant that you were prey.

The guard bowed his head in casual deference. “Your uncles have requested you attend them in the Grand Hall, champion,” he sneered.

“You may tell them that they will be waiting on that audience for some time,” Iada said smoothly.

The warrior crossed his arms and looked over her head. He ignored Iada and spoke directly to Gabriel. “You hide behind your mate?”

Iada stiffened and turned her head, waiting for Gabriel’s response. There was fury in her eyes and her cheeks were flushed red. It would gall her to be dismissed like that and even more to depend on him for support.

“Wiser than standing in her way,” Gabriel drawled. There was a flash of uncertainty in Iada’s eyes and then the smallest of smiles touched her lips. He felt like a king for the first time. He stepped forward then and moved Iada to the side and slightly behind him. He could feel the tension in her muscles but she stayed in place.

“Stand aside,” he ordered the guard.

The Yaguara’s eyes lifted to meet his boldly. A low snarl sounded from above his head.

“Your pardon, King.” The guard dipped his head in a brief salute. “But we cannot allow you access to this tunnel. We cannot guarantee your safety if you pass.”

Iada snorted. Gabriel merely raised one brow, fixed the warrior with a hard gaze and waited for him to move. He was not surprised when the jaguar sprang. There was not enough time for him to shift. The change was always disorienting, leaving a person entirely vulnerable for up to a full minute. He would be dead before he completed the transformation.

He dropped and rolled out of the way of that initial attack but felt a tug at his shoulder followed by a bright flare of pain there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Yaguara in man form on his knees, clutching at his shredded chest. And then the jaguar lunged at him again. Gabriel snagged his foreleg midleap and pivoted sharply, stunning the animal against the rock face and snapping his leg in the process.

Before Gabriel could turn to check on Iada, the other jaguar rammed its head into the small of his back, knocking him to the ground. They must have been ordered not to kill. Iada, bless her, had no such scruples. His wife had changed fully to jaguar form, the strap and shredded bodice of her dress still clinging to one leg. She placed her teeth at the base of the guard’s skull and gave a deep warning snarl until he went limp between her teeth.

Gabriel stumbled to his feet and Iada tossed the jaguar to the side. He rolled and promptly slunk away into the bushes. While Iada shifted back, Gabriel went to retrieve his pack, ignoring the snuffling noises coming from the animal still hunched by the rock and the gasps and curses of the guard in human form.

By the time he’d returned to Iada, she was a woman once more; all the blood and dirt from the fight had fallen away with the change. Her hair was mussed, she was gloriously nude and spitting mad. It was a luxury to have a partner he did not have to worry about. The instinct to protect her was there but it was tempered by knowledge of her strength.

“My thanks, mate,” he said, wondering why she’d defended him. Had this been a show for his benefit to convince him that he could trust her? It sounded like something the Silveiras might do.

Iada actually blushed a little, nodded sharply and then dug through her small pack for another dress. The one she pulled out was much like the first but in red. He found himself standing there, stupidly watching as she pulled it over her head and shimmied her hips a little to adjust the fabric. It suited her, that color. When she looked up at him, he smiled. She gave him a funny look and then stalked over to the injured guard in human form. The stupid man glared back at her with no sign of remorse. “You attacked me,” the guard accused.

“You attacked your king,” Iada said.

The man spat. “Not my king. You’re not to leave the compound—Vin’s orders.” The sly mocking look he gave Iada made Gabriel want to strike it from his face. But as he moved forward to do just that, Gabriel noticed how carefully Iada had sliced this man, just enough to disable but not enough to kill. An act, he thought and uncurled his fist, letting it play out.

Iada said, “Tell Vin that I no longer take orders from him.”

Without waiting for the guard’s response, Iada turned on her heel and headed for the tunnel. Gabriel followed her. She’d sounded creditably sincere. She was breathing fast, her breasts lifting in quick little rises. Her pulse fluttered just beneath the smooth skin at her throat. He waited until they were well into the tunnel and then placed a hand on her elbow to stop her. She tried to pull away and he tightened his grip, pulling her around to face him.

“They’ll send more. If we want to leave, we need to do it now,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” he murmured. “That little show of force went as they planned it, I think.”

The slashing lines of her eyebrows drew together. “That was not force.”

He gave up the argument. She was too good to concede so early in the game. Besides, his blood was up from the fight and he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from her mouth. There was a slight scratch at the corner and her lower lip was swollen temptingly. He touched his tongue to the tiny swell of blood and then licked over that full bottom lip, soothing it, tasting her and then teasing his way inside her mouth.

Her fingers threaded into his hair. Her tongue found his and tangled with it, sucking it deeper inside and then biting at the tip.

This was good. He’d not allowed himself to indulge in play for such a long time, all of his energies on training and learning as much as possible about the Yaguara leadership. And Iada was fair game. He didn’t have to worry about them using her against him, not in any way that he wouldn’t see coming a mile off. So why not take what she offered?

***

Gabriel pushed her back until her shoulders hit the rough stone of the tunnel, his eyes glinting yellow in the dim light. The rush of water echoed up from below. Bouncing off the walls, it was louder here than if they’d been standing on the bank. They needed to get to the river before those guards returned with help. Distantly, Iada could hear voices, raised and sharp with anger. She hoped it was a completely different set of guards coming down to the river. They’d shamed the first batch and those ones would be vicious because of it.

“We need to leave before they come back,” she told Gabriel again.

“Afraid someone will see you getting fucked by a mutant?” The words were harsh, his tone guttural, but his lips were so soft as they trailed their way along her jaw. He was waiting for her answer. Even as his mouth drifted over her skin, he held his body apart from her. The answer mattered to him but she didn’t understand why.

“They already know,” she said. “Everyone knows.”

His hands slipped beneath her skirt, thumbs leading the way, sliding along the seam at the tops of her thighs, tenderly caressing sweat-damp skin. She tipped her head back and he slid his open mouth down the long line of her throat.

“They know your uncles are punishing you,” he murmured. “But do they know how much you want this?”

Punishment. She almost laughed. The forms of discipline her uncles favored were not so subtle. “I don’t…”

Hard fingers flexed into soft skin. “I know that you’re shamed by me.” His big hands shifted around to cover her ass, lifting her, splitting her legs. He drove his hips forward into the gap. “And I know that you want me.”

She didn’t bother to correct Gabriel this time. She didn’t want a conversation. She didn’t want to know his thoughts, not really. She wanted his body. She wanted to hold on to the illusion a little bit longer—that he really was brave and noble hearted. A warrior worthy of her respect. Someone she could trust. She was afraid of what she would find when she really came to know him. She was afraid to let him know her.

Stupid really. She’d always been alone. She’d never been able to trust anyone and it had never bothered her before.

Gabriel pinned her to the wall with his weight and one of his hands left her body. She heard the metallic rip of his zipper then his hand was back to steady her. The head of his cock prodded her and she arched her back from the wall to guide him. He grunted when he found the right angle, caught her mouth with his own and heaved himself up inside her. The cut on her lip reopened and she tasted blood.

His head came up and he stared down at her, mouth slack, eyes narrowed. He drove deep and held himself there. “You can’t lie to me. I can see the desire in your eyes—your pupils long and narrow. I can smell the spice of it on your skin. I can feel it. You’re wet and hot and ready for me to pound into you.” To prove his point, he pulled out in a slow, sweet glide and then moved just as slowly back in. A soft broken moan escaped her and he grinned. “Your body wants me. You want me. A mutant. How do you feel about that, Silveira?”

Right now she felt pretty fine about it. Before she could tell him, she heard the sound of footsteps followed by a muffled curse. She knew that noises echoed strangely in these tunnels. That voice could be coming from a mile above them or a foot away from the tunnel’s mouth. She jerked her head to the side but there was no one there.

“Afraid they’ll come storming down that tunnel and find us here—me pumping between your spread thighs while you howl with pleasure. We could stop now.” He pulsed against her, teasing her, drawing out her wetness, moving so fucking gently it was driving her insane.

“Stop?” she wailed. “You haven’t begun.” She dug her nails into his shoulders to shift against him but he held her hips down.

She snarled at him but he only smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “You’re right. There’s no time. We should leave while we still can.”

“We’d have time if you would just move.” Iada glared at him. He was enjoying this, the bastard. His eyes gleamed triumphantly and his mouth was tilted in an arrogant smirk. He knew exactly what she wanted and he was purposefully holding it just out of her reach. Did he want her to beg? She wondered what had changed his mood. After the fight, he’d thanked her and the warm look in his eyes had made her turn away, flushed with pleasure and embarrassment. Now he was angry. She thought that for a moment he’d forgotten who she was and this was his way of reminding them both.

He started to withdraw but she clung to him. Letting out a shaky laugh, he stood upright and she pitched forward. “Work for it, then,” he dared her. “If you don’t like my pace, you can set your own.”

She did. Her muscles were strong, honed by years of intense training, but she was working against gravity and he wasn’t helping her. She gripped his hips with her thighs and flexed her body, tilting her hips back and then driving down, sliding all the way to the base. She let herself rest there suspended by his cock lodged deep inside her. Then she pulled herself up again, using those broad shoulders as leverage to haul herself up and then using her clenched thighs to slow her fall down. She found her rhythm—fast and demanding, determined to have him and be gone before the guards arrived to delay them again. He’d offered his body. His perfect, willing, marvelous body, and she intended to use it while she still had the opportunity. He grunted with every bounce of her hips but he kept his legs braced and his hands resting with light support under her ass.

Those strange eyes tracked the rise and fall of her body but his face was expressionless. The clench of his jaw was the only sign that he was exerting any effort, that he was even interested in what she was doing. It goaded her, that seeming indifference, and she rode him harder, grinding her hips forward on the down stroke. It wasn’t enough. She hooked one arm around his neck and bit into the firm flesh of his shoulder, trying to rouse some response from him. He flinched but then steadied. Snaking her other arm down between their bodies, she worked at her clit. Close. She was so fucking close but she couldn’t quite get there and her muscles were beginning to fatigue. She swallowed down a whimper, tasting his blood. Gabriel’s fingers flexed briefly into her skin. He let slip a long low growl of desire and it pushed her over the edge. She cried out and choked on the sound. The muscles in her thighs finally gave out and she started to slip. Gabriel held her up, digging his fingers into her skin as he moved her body to massage his cock.

She dropped her legs from his hips and he turned her, putting a firm hand on her shoulder to force her down to her knees. She was still reeling, sweating, gasping for air and she didn’t realize his intention until he bent over her back and whispered, “My turn.” And he was inside her again. He planted one fist in the dirt beside her hand and wrapped his other arm low across her abdomen, trapping her against the shock of his heavy thrusts.

They were facing the mouth of the tunnel and the voices were definitely louder now, clearer. A shadow that seemed human in its movement crossed to one side. The guards had arrived. They would find them. They would see this. Gabriel was wrong. It didn’t worry her. It wouldn’t shame her. Her body jerked as Gabriel pounded into her and she hoped that they would come.

Gabriel righted his upper body and dropped a heavy hand over her ass. Each stroke was hard and deliberate. He was close. She felt her own body responding to his urgency. His thumb moved down between her cheeks, stroking slowly to where his cock was pounding into her and then back up. Again and again. He paused and probed inside her. “If there was time, I’d take you here.”

Iada stiffened, not at his words but at the curse that sounded sharp and clear and very, very near.

He probed deeper, slowly twisting his thumb. “Would you let me, Iada?”

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. He thrust hard and she came sharp and suddenly. He made a startled sound and then he was there with her. Giving two quick hard plunges, he held her tight, buried so deep she could feel the jerk and spasm of his cock. He was still breathing heavily when he pulled back and climbed to his feet. Wordlessly he helped her up and pushed her into a jog.

They made it through the last tunnel without being spotted and slowed to a walk. Iada pulled her hair into a loose ponytail while Gabriel walked silently beside her, seemingly distracted. He kept walking past the small boats the children used, past the relatively still waters of the inlet. He stopped on the bank about fifty feet downriver from the tunnel and looked out over the wide river.

“I’m not ashamed to mate with you,” she said to his back.

His head came around sharply but he didn’t say anything, only watched her expectantly.

She met his questioning gaze head-on. “You expect me to think like a human. To hold grudges and lie to you with my body. You should know your own people better.”

“Your uncles told you to submit,” he said in a flat voice.

She couldn’t deny it. She nodded stiffly. “As a distraction. But you know that I want you. You said so yourself. Submission is very different from desire.”

“And my inferior blood?” There was something sharp in his tone. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought it was hurt.

She should not have to explain this. Any Yaguara would understand it. Gabriel had spent too much time in the human world. It had dulled his instincts. “You defeated me. I’d never lost, Gabriel. Not one match until you. You are strong, cunning, powerful. I am not ashamed to mate with you. I would lay down for you wherever you asked it.”

His eyes shifted away from her then quickly back. He seemed shocked. But that didn’t last for long. She could tell when that shock turned into wary speculation.

“You say that we value strength but you don’t really understand what that means, not for me, not for you or for the people you’re trying to help.”

He grunted and cocked his head. “Are you going to tell me again how impossible my plans are?”

She shook her head. “They’re not impossible.”

“So a couple of quick fucks and you’re ready to change sides?” he drawled. “I’ve been going about this campaign the wrong way.”

“Fine,” she snapped, turning away. Why was he determined to be thickheaded? She was only trying to help him. “Don’t accept my help.”

***

Gabriel watched Iada stalk away from him, her movements stiff and jerky. She turned back after two steps, skin flushed, eyes flashing. God, she was terrifying, fierce and beautiful. As much a force of nature as the river flowing behind her.

“I’m going with you to learn about your people,” she said, voice trembling. “You need to learn about mine too, king.” She spat out the last word like a curse and then turned on her heel.

Gabriel muttered a curse under his breath. He didn’t know why he’d mocked her except that he’d been certain she was lying. This fierce warrior told him that he was strong and cunning and suddenly he could feel all his defenses against her falling away. Then she tried to warn him off again and he thought he saw her angle. Flatter the mutant, distract him with a willing female body, slide a knife between his ribs when he wasn’t looking. She turned her head to look down the river and he could see her hurt in the tightness around her eyes, the compression of her lips to a thin straight line.

“Iada,” he called out, walking toward her.

She turned and planted her feet, lifting her face to watch him approach. Could it be true what she’d said about him? He could ask her to repeat it but he wouldn’t believe it any more if she told him a second time. She’d told him herself that he would be a fool to trust in a handful of pretty words. Still…

He took her hand. Her fingers were cold and kept trying to curl up into a fist. He pressed his thumb against her palm and met her glare. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I spoke harshly.”

She went very still. He wasn’t sure that she was even breathing. She was watching him with a curious mixture of wariness and wonder, like he was some exotic new species of venomous snake. He had the strong impression that no one had ever apologized to her before.

He pulled her closer, couldn’t resist brushing her cheek with the backs of his knuckles. Her skin was so smooth. He watched as the golden color darkened with a faint flush. He felt again that he was skirting a dangerous ledge. “If you’re willing to offer your help in any way, I’ll take it.”

She gave him a curt nod and turned away toward the river again.

***

Iada looked at the water so she wouldn’t have to look into Gabriel’s eyes and see the warmth there. He still didn’t trust her, not really, but she could tell distrust did not come naturally to him. He was direct, honest and compassionate and she could feel herself slipping. He was her enemy. He’d apologized to her.

“Where’s your boat?” She looked around, shielding her eyes from the bright sun with her hand, and then turned back to Gabriel.

He tossed her a crooked grin and pulled his shirt over his head. She preferred him nude. He was not built in the elegant lines that wore clothing well. His body was powerful. Thick and strong as a tree trunk. She had the fancy he’d be just as dependable as one, which was a strange thought. She’d never been fanciful. Beatriz often told her she was too practical for her own good.

She should be thinking about how to outplay her uncles so that she survived this. She should be trying to find out what Gabriel really wanted so that she could use it against him should it prove necessary. She shouldn’t be thinking about hard hands and sweat-slick bodies and rough whispers of trust.

Still, Iada admired the view until Gabriel said, “No boat. We swim.”

She scowled. “All the way downriver.”

“Not quite so far. We cross here then travel overland for a ways.” He pointed. “There. You can see it from here.”

She made a rude sound. “Barely.”

“I thought the academy’s champion would be tougher than this.”

She knew what he was doing but it still stung. Wordlessly she removed her dress and sealed it inside a watertight bag, threading her arms through the straps. They were made of a sturdy elastic material that would adjust when she changed. She’d never gone far enough from the compound to require one of the packs they had specially made to blend in with the colors of fur and jungle. Gabriel left his clothes where they lay. She supposed that he would have a stash of replacements hidden in the jungle near his home.

“You can swim, right?” he asked.

She responded with a look of murderous disdain and dived, changing to jaguar form before she hit the rushing water. The strength of the current whipped her from the shoreline. It took all her strength and concentration to angle herself to reach the narrow outcropping Gabriel had indicated. She dragged herself up onto the bank and shook the water from her fur, finding a flat rock to sit upon as she watched Gabriel struggle against the current. She licked some water from her forearm as she waited. No point changing back if he planned to travel through the jungle.

Gabriel’s claws scored the muddy banks as he pulled himself from the river. He was as fine a specimen in jaguar form as human, heavily muscled and dangerous. She swallowed a purr of appreciation. She had to watch herself in this. Her cat body lacked all subtlety. Instinct was more powerful when she was in this form, all animal urges more intense. Her tail twitched with the concentration it took not to rise up and curl herself around his body, slide slowly down his length and tuck her head beneath his jaw.

He nudged her to her feet and headed into the tangle of vegetation that walled the river.

They stopped several times to rest in the shade, once to hunt, once to take shelter when a particularly fierce storm burst shook the canopy and drenched them with sweet cooling rain.

Gabriel watched her with flat eyes. His intent was impossible to read, his head resting on one forearm, steam curling from his back. When the rain lessened to a mist, he rose up, flicked his tail and led her onward, already miles beyond her farthest excursion. They had rejoined the great river, skirting the small human settlements scattered along its banks. By morning they reached the very edge of the city.

Iada sat back on her haunches, ears twitching, her nostrils flaring at the assault, and looked upon the dirty sprawling pile of rubble the humans called home.

***

How could they live like this? The noise and the smell were appalling. Add to that the cold, ugly concrete and it was Iada’s personal idea of hell. There were people everywhere. Hopeless eyes. Dirty faces. The young men on the corner tracked their progress down the narrow street with greedy speculation.

They’d shifted back into human form just outside of the city and dressed. Gabriel had chided her for not packing shoes and she’d rolled her eyes. She hated wearing shoes. But as she picked her way gingerly over the broken glass on the sidewalk, she could see he had a point. Gabriel glanced down, plucked her up into his arms and kept walking. He turned right down an alley smelling of garbage and setting her on the stoop, rapped sharply on a rusted steel door. After a moment the door cracked open just enough for a dark eye to peer out at them. There was a whoop of joy, then the door was thrown wide and Iada saw a blur of flying dark hair and golden skin hurl itself at Gabriel, two skinny arms snaking tight around his neck. Iada tensed to snatch the little monster away. But before she reached out, she saw Gabriel’s face, happy and completely unguarded for that one heartbeat. And she stopped, arms dropping to her sides and a flush creeping up her neck.

He was hugging the little one back, swinging the girl in his arms before setting her bare feet back on the crumbling stoop. He whispered something in the girl’s ear and she scurried away. When he turned back to Iada and swept her inside the dimly lit corridor, that reserved and watchful look was once again firmly in place. He led her down the narrow hall, knocked once on a door at the very end, ducked his head inside then pulled her into a cramped and squalid apartment, shutting the door behind them.

“What is this place?” Iada’s gaze swept disdainfully over scarred wooden floors and peeling paint. Better to sleep in the jungle than here.

“A safe house.”

Iada pulled her eyes away from the sagging water-stained ceiling and cocked an eyebrow. “Safe,” she repeated, lifting her brows. “You’re certain?”

A human woman who had been hovering beside a small round table came forward with a tentative smile. Middle-aged, plump with short, curling hair, she looked pitifully soft. Iada had seen humans before. A boat had stopped near their lands once to wait out a storm. She’d crept out onto a branch near the water. A half-dozen men huddled beneath an awning as if they were afraid of the rain. Why would Anna have taken one of these to mate? A human mate couldn’t possibly protect their child.

Instead of answering Iada, Gabriel turned and spoke to the human, reassuring her that he wasn’t hungry when she offered to prepare him food. Iada walked about the room, examining the few possessions. It was one open room. The kitchen on one side. A living area on the other with a square metal dining table in between. There was a small sofa covered in worn fabric that had once been a cheerful orange but now only looked dingy. The pillows were flat and it was too short to sleep on. The human finally accepted defeat and Iada could hear her approach from behind.

“Welcome,” she said to Iada’s back. “My name is Sofia. Make yourself at home and if there’s anything I can do for you, only let me know.”

Iada dropped onto the single chair in the small room, turned to their host and said, “Something to drink.”

Gabriel winced and put his hand on the woman’s arm, rumbled something in that deep, smooth voice of his that teased the scowl from her face. When she was gone he turned on Iada and growled, “Your social skills are alarming.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed amicably. “They didn’t teach diplomacy at the academy.”

“Not common courtesy either. You’ll need to learn to relate to these people. Humans are not your servants. To them you are the abomination.”

He had nearly killed her and had not looked as angry then as he did now. She frowned. “They are human.”

Looking tired and exasperated, he said with forced patience, “Humans are people too. You do know that you’re not actually a jaguar?”

She raised her brows and regarded him coolly.

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully and he said, “If you’d been born in the forests of America, you might have been a cougar or a wolf.”

He let the sentence hang there like bait. To assess her gullibility? She snorted. “Nonsense.”

“Did they teach you nothing about our kind at your academy?” This said with a touch of derision that stiffened her spine.

“They taught me everything I needed to know. How to fight. How to win.” She didn’t need the look Gabriel gave her to remind her that they were lessons that had failed her in the end.

Gabriel leaned his shoulder against the wall and plucked the dingy curtain back with two fingers to peer outside. He was toying with her again, always poking and prodding at her then measuring every reaction. Always finding her wanting. A wolf. Ha. Except Gabriel had been honest with her so far. At times, brutally so. Iada shifted uncomfortably on the hard wood.

“The truth,” she demanded. “Are there others who can shift to different forms?”

He dropped the curtain and shot her an amused glance. “Wolf. Lion. Bear…You’ve heard of Berserkers? I heard a rumor once of a boa constrictor but I’m not sure I believe it.” That wry grin. “Don’t really want to believe it. We have a genetic anomaly that allows us to shift form to mimic the largest predator in our environment. The form is set at maturity during an imprint stage. That’s when most abandoned mixed-blood children die, because they are unprepared to handle the change.” His gaze was strangely intent. “Any of this sound familiar?”

None of it. Her education had been woefully single-purposed, she was realizing. Her uncles had required a warrior they could control, not one who was well informed. That nauseating sensation of being cast adrift swamped her again. “I am familiar with the difficulties of the first change, of course.”

He rubbed his hand over his face, looking worn and weary. “So the Federación? The European Council? These mean nothing to you?”

“No.”

“Damn, you are amazing,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I’ve never met anyone so self-absorbed.”

The muscles in her shoulders twitched but she managed to suppress her reaction otherwise. She turned her face away so he would not be able to read it there. He didn’t even seem to be aware of the insult he’d delivered. Either that or he did not care.

When the woman returned, Gabriel crossed the room in two long strides to take the heavy tray from her and set it on the table. Then he was through the open door with a promise to return soon.

Iada accepted the red plastic cup from her reluctant hostess then made herself look into the human’s wary eyes.

Iada smiled and said, “Thank you.”

Chapter Five

Iada stared at the thin mattress pushed into the corner of the closet-sized room. There were no sheets, no blanket. She thought fondly of the damp pile of palm fronds she had slept on the night before. She supposed they could rip down the curtain that served as a door. She felt Gabriel stop behind her, his large hands settling on her hips as if it were the most natural thing in the world, that light touch sliding warmth down every limb and pooling deep in her body. Cold at least would not be a problem.

“There’s only one pillow.”

“I’ll wrestle you for it,” he said, and that was her only warning before he swept her legs out from under her and flipped her onto the mattress. He followed immediately, pinning her to the thin mattress with his weight.

He was too heavy for her to roll, too skilled to be caught by her hands or feet. She tried to clip him with an elbow but he only chuckled and dodged it easily. She growled in frustration then ran her tongue up the column of his neck. He jerked back in surprise and she slipped her arm free. Rolling to her hands and knees, she nearly made it out of his reach. Sprawled on his back, he hooked an arm around one thigh to pull her back.

“Cheater,” he accused though it lacked force. He was grinning, that wide, easy smile that made her want to smile back. He was more relaxed here among his own people. This playful side of him tempted and confused her.

“I didn’t bite,” she protested. “No teeth, no foul. Tongue doesn’t count.”

She squirmed, trying to roll away, but he positioned her hips over his face, hands on her ass, arms angled so that her thighs were spread and her knees were only barely touching the mattress. She braced herself onto her elbows but couldn’t shift her legs to find the leverage she would need to slip free. Though admittedly she wasn’t trying very hard.

His tongue stabbed inside and then went wide and flat as he moved up toward her clit, parting her folds as he licked at her leisurely. He pulled her hips just slightly away and she knew that he was staring at her. She could feel the heat of his breath on her skin when he said, “Tongue counts, Iada.”

And he pulled her back down, determined to prove it. He licked and nibbled at her until she was moving against his mouth, moaning. His hands gripped her hips and balanced her at that awkward angle that gave him all the control. His thick hair tickled her thighs and she knotted her fists in the mattress as he worked at her with lips and tongue and teeth. She should tell him that teeth were clearly prohibited. She should.

She dropped her forehead to the mattress and she could see him. She could see the top of his head and his thick black hair as he moved his head for a better angle, to lick deep inside her or, oh God, to take her clit between his teeth and dig the tip of his tongue there. When he angled his head just so, she could see his lashes lower, and the look on his face was one of…joy.

The air felt trapped in her lungs and her chest suddenly hurt. Then he whispered her name, his deep voice hoarse with need and nearly tender, and she felt the first swell of release lift her. He nuzzled at her, speaking soft words of praise and caressing her through the aftershocks.

He slid her down his body, over his chest and abdomen and rolled her. She was still floating somewhere beyond conscious thought when he spread her thighs wide and pushed in deep, stretching her, filling her. He wrapped his thick arms beneath her shoulders and fisted his hands in her hair, easing her head back so that when she opened her eyes, his face filled her vision.

He looked smug and she had the vague feeling she should be irritated by that. He slid nearly all the way out and she whimpered until he slammed full into her again. He did the same again and again, angling his head so that he could watch the bounce of her breasts as he pushed himself deep. Ducking his head, he caught her nipple between his teeth until his next thrust broke the contact. His ragged breath and the slap of their sweat-slick bodies were the only sounds in the small enclosed space.

“Tell me you need me, Iada,” he demanded, voice hoarse.

She parted her lips but the words would not come. She wouldn’t lie to him and she didn’t need him.

He growled. “Tell me at least that you really want this.”

That she could say. Surely there was no harm in admitting that much. Her gaze locked on his. His lips were tight, the corded muscles in his neck strained, but there was none of the dazed look in his eyes that she felt. He looked intent, focused and fiercely determined.

“I want you, Gabriel,” Iada said with complete honesty even though it was almost painful to reveal so much.

She recognized her weakness and it terrified her. She had always been the one in control, the victor. And all she wanted to do was cede to this mutant, defer to his strength. Let him take her where she wanted to be. It was a foolish indulgence to trust him with that kind of power. But she surrendered to it anyway. Just one more time.

***

When she woke the next morning, Gabriel was gone and the apartment was empty. Iada was returning from the one working bathroom shared by the entire building when someone tugged at her sleeve from the shadows. Before the touch even registered in her conscious brain, she had the stranger pinned to the wall by the throat. Anna. No wonder she had not sensed a threat. Her fingers slowly loosened their grip. She was so attuned to the human stench that the smell of her own kind went undetected.

“Please don’t, Iada,” Anna’s voice shook pitifully. She turned her face away. “Not you too.”

Iada slipped her arms around her sister’s bony shoulders and pulled her in tight against her body. Anna had lost weight. She was trembling and filthy.

“I would never hurt you.” Iada was momentarily stunned by the ferocity in her own voice. She tucked Anna’s head against her shoulder and felt tears soaking through the thin cloth of her T-shirt. “I’m taking you home.”

Little Anna pushed away from her so violently that Iada stumbled back hard against the stone wall. Anna bolted down the corridor and Iada followed her after a moment of stunned disbelief. She turned the corner just in time to see Anna duck into the apartment at the end of a dark corridor. Not bothering to knock, Iada pushed her way inside and there was Gabriel, standing in the middle of the dingy room, holding a wailing infant, looking angry at her again while Anna hid behind him like a child.

“You won’t let her take me back, will you, Gabriel?” Anna whispered.

Iada glared at him.

Gabriel said, “No one will make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

***

Anna met her husband at the door with a kiss, looked over her shoulder at her sister then leaned in close to whisper something in Lucas’s ear. Gabriel looked from Anna, pretty and restless as a little bird, to Iada sitting stiffly in the chair beside him holding Michael awkwardly on her lap.

His wife was staring at the couple with an indecipherable expression on her still features. Beautiful, composed, lethal. He thought by now he would know for certain where her loyalty lay but he still didn’t know quite what to make of her. Somehow she managed to alienate every human that she met, reinforcing their worst opinions of the Yaguara and undoing years of his work to force a reconciliation. It was impossible to even know what she truly thought let alone how much of her was still owned by Vinicius and Arturo. He didn’t know what to do with her. Except when she was on her back beneath him or on her knees or…He jerked himself from that line of thought and watched Lucas approach with barely veiled hostility.

“Welcome to our home, sister,” Lucas said with something of a challenge in his voice.

Iada looked around her and sniffed, a world of comment in that delicate flare of nostril. Placing his palm on her thigh, Gabriel squeezed out a warning he had little hope that she would heed.

Lucas bristled visibly but continued, “I know you don’t like me because I’m human…”

Iada surprised them all by leaning forward and saying the one thing sure to sink into the devoted Lucas like a dagger to the heart. “I don’t like you because you’re not taking care of my sister.”

Anna hauled back on her husband’s arm. Every muscle in Gabriel’s body clenched, prepared to step between Iada and danger even as he wanted to throttle her himself. He muttered, “Damn it, Iada. Do you always go straight for the jugular?”

She tilted her head, considered that for a moment and then shrugged. “I suppose that I do.”

Michael squawked and Iada startled, looked down at his tiny wrinkled face and smiled. It was just a tight little baring of her teeth but Gabriel realized it was the only sincere smile he’d ever seen on her face. Something eased a little bit in his chest, soft and sad and sweet. And what the hell was he to make of that reaction?

While Anna worked on settling Lucas, Gabriel turned to Iada. “Your uncles had Anna dumped in the jungle. Sick, alone, in the final weeks of pregnancy and unable to shift without harming a human child. She was barely alive when she made it here. Lucas has no reason to welcome anyone from her family.”

Iada’s face was alarming in its utter stillness. She whispered, “I did not know.”

Gabriel’s mouth tightened. How could she not have known? Anna was her sister. “That man is the only reason your sister is still alive.”

He paused to let that sink in. Iada’s eyes remained focused on Anna, who was still busy soothing her furious husband with soft words and gentle hands.

Gabriel said, “You need to apologize to him.”

Iada jerked her head to look at him and he saw the outrage there. He repeated firmly, “Apologize.”

“I said I didn’t know.”

“You insulted him by rejecting his attempt to make peace and for implying that he was the cause of your sister’s illness when it was your family who was responsible. You will apologize.”

Her expression closed down. Damn, he could usually read people better than this but he had no idea what she would do, not even when she drew in a shaky breath and got to her feet. Gabriel watched Lucas slowly fist his hands and he was glad at least that Iada still had Michael in her arms.

“Please accept my apology and…thank you for taking care of Anna.” Iada looked down and her face softened, impossibly making her even lovelier. “And Michael. I am sorry…brother.” The last was said awkwardly but Gabriel couldn’t have been more proud of her in that instant or more relieved. The tension slowly ebbed from his body and he settled back into the chair. Iada turned to her sister. “I’m so sorry, Anna. I didn’t know.”

When Iada excused herself from the apartment a short time later, Gabriel lingered to speak with Anna. “Is it possible that she didn’t know what your uncles did to you?” His tone was skeptical.

Anna nodded without reservation. “Who would tell her? Once she was selected for the academy, they took her away and I hardly ever saw her,” Anna said quietly, looking up at her husband with her heart in her eyes.

The look was so tender, so intimate that Gabriel had to look away. How could little Anna be such a sweetheart when her big sister didn’t seem to have one?

When Anna looked back at him, her face was almost grim. “When our parents died, she was the one who found Maria to care for me when she entered the academy. I didn’t understand why at the time. I was so angry that she was sending me away from the compound but she was only trying to protect me from them.”

It fit with what little he knew of his wife. He could see her as an angel-faced black-haired child with those solemn eyes placing herself wholly in Vin’s and Arturo’s hands even while trying to protect her younger sister. Iada was ruthlessly practical, he thought, but not entirely without the ability to care for others. He wondered, through a childhood spent under Vin and Arturo’s twisted tutelage, was there ever anyone who’d looked out for Iada? Had there ever been anyone to truly care for her? He wanted to ask but he was pretty sure that he already knew the answer.

He quenched the stir of pity in his chest. He couldn’t afford to be swayed by any tender feelings toward the lovely, lethal bride he’d won along with his crown. Yes, it was sad, but the woman Iada might have been had been lost a long time ago. One more casualty in her uncles’ not so secret war to exterminate the mutants. He would do what he could to protect the broken little thing but he couldn’t make the mistake of trusting her.

“And she kept that rock,” Anna added, pressing her lips to Michael’s temple. When she glanced up and saw Gabriel watching her, she said, “The flat stone she wears around her neck. I gave it to her before she left me with Maria.” Anna shook her head. “I don’t think she’s as cold as she acts. She’s more than just a fighter.”

“You might want to keep that opinion to yourself. I’m not sure that Iada would agree.”

Anna laid the sleeping Michael in his cradle and then took Gabriel by the hand. “There’s time to convince her, thanks to you, my king. For now it’s time to celebrate your victory.”

“I hope you didn’t go to any trouble, Anna.” He of all people knew how little the residents of this refuge could afford it. “There’s too much work to be done before we can claim a victory.”

Lucas clapped him on the back and opened the door. “Then we will celebrate this minor success. Tonight you are among friends. Go gather your wife and join us in the courtyard, highness.”

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Gabriel said gruffly to Lucas before he left. “I think that she’s doing the best she can.”

Lucas followed him into the empty hallway and pulled the door closed behind him. “She will report back to her uncles when you return. It’s bad enough that she knows where we live.”

“Careful, Lucas,” Gabriel warned. “Iada is my wife and your queen. I’ll be damned if I let you or anyone else mistreat her.”

“No one will harm her,” Lucas said, then shrugged. “No one will welcome her either. You risk our lives for hers.”

“I know that.”

“And if it comes to a choice?”

Gabriel only had to look at him, let him see his pupil’s begin to elongate at the unspoken threat to his mate and Lucas was holding up a hand in supplication. Gabriel swatted the hand aside and gripped Lucas’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, brother. I can manage my wife…and her uncles too.”

Chapter Six

The air was still muggy in the courtyard but was cooling quickly. Enrique, with his tobacco-blackened teeth and leathery skin, stood with his arms crossed, glaring at a group of children who had just trampled his flowers. He’d claimed the courtyard years ago and Gabriel had been the object of that glare when he was a child and the vines were barely knee-high. Now they climbed halfway up the far wall on a handmade trellis that Enrique extended every few years. Their scent filled the courtyard, masking the sour smell of the city beyond the walls. The vines were in full flower now. Later in the season, they would bear fruit.

Paper lanterns were hung on ropes crisscrossing the patio. A small band was setting up their instruments in one corner. Soft music echoed off the crumbling brick walls. Friends he had known all his life, the people he counted as family, came forward as he entered with hugs and smiles, warmth and laughter. Grinning, Gabriel stepped forward and let that warmth envelop him. He was home.

***

Iada watched Gabriel greet the people gathered here. Mostly they were other mutants like her husband. One or two were fully human like Lucas and mated to one of the mutants. She stood in the doorway, stunned by the happy surge of the crowd as Gabriel entered. She watched as he was swallowed up, hugged again and again, congratulated and fussed over like a favorite child. She started to follow him but was cut off by a dark-haired woman carrying a platter of sliced meats. One man at the rear of the crowd gave her a cold stare and then turned his back, effectively cutting off any clear path to Gabriel’s side.

She held herself immobile, uncertain but unwilling to reveal it. There were tables and chairs on one side of the courtyard. One large table was quickly filling with food as people carted out bowls and platters and pitchers of drink. The chairs were empty. She could not hide there. It would only display the vulnerability of her isolation.

To her right was a garden of sorts, parts of it surrounded by wire fencing beneath a wall of cascading granadilla blooms. She sighed. She would feign interest in plant life, then. Casting one last glance at Gabriel, she walked slowly in the direction of the back wall.

***

“Abandoning your husband so soon?” A stooped old man approached her slowly. He sighed as he sank down onto the wrought-iron bench and gestured for her to join him.

“You have it backward old one,” she said bitterly even as she obeyed and sat beside him. She regarded him curiously. “You are Yaguara.”

“Fully, yes.”

“Why do you live here?” She didn’t bother to honey her words. This one would understand.

“Anna lives here,” he pointed out, easing his shoulders back and looking up at the stars.

“Anna was exiled.”

“My wife was human. When she died, I remained here. This is my home.” He glanced her way and grinned. “And I don’t trust them to care for my flowers.” He held up one age-spotted hand and pointed. “He looks for you.”

She snorted but watched Gabriel’s head twist this way and that, a frown slowly forming on his face. Good. He dipped his head toward Anna. She looked up and shook her head.

Iada shifted forward, intending to go to him, but the old one placed his gnarled hand on her wrist and pulled her back.

He chuckled at her fierce expression. “As prickly as my Mari. Stay. Let him find you. The hunt is half the pleasure, is it not?”

Iada settled back but kept her eyes on Gabriel. Even as he laughed at something a teenage boy said, his eyes were restless, seeking. She could feel his need tugging at her heart. Frowning, she resisted the pull of it.

“My name is Enrique. I’ve known Gabriel since he was a boy. Are you not at all curious about this man you’ve taken as husband?”

Her eyes snapped his way. “I had little enough choice in the matter.”

“Always a choice. Surely your family would have preferred for you to choose death before allowing yourself to be so defiled.”

She looked away. “Not Anna.”

Enrique looked across the patio at Anna and smiled. “No. Not Anna, but she is extraordinary among our kind. All the bloodlust of a butterfly.”

Enrique leaned to the side, one razor-edged claw slipping out to slice a white-and-purple bloom from the vine. The claw disappeared just as smoothly and Iada marveled at his control. As good as her own. This was the man Gabriel had spoken of, the one who had trained him and told him of her weakness. He tucked the flower deftly behind her ear. “Her sister, I think, is just as extraordinary.”

“But already claimed, Enrique,” Gabriel said from only a few feet away. Iada suppressed the reflexive jerk of her muscles. He’d managed to sneak up on her again.

“You’ve done well, boy,” Enrique said, and Iada watched Gabriel’s eyes glitter a little too brightly. He valued this old man’s opinion, Iada realized with faint surprise. A weakness, that. Her dear husband was riddled with them.

Gabriel reached down and pulled her to her feet. She’d learned long ago not to care what anyone thought. It was likely that very attitude that had landed her in this predicament. But Gabriel cared deeply for the opinion of his people, for their happiness and security. Her family believed that Gabriel had challenged for the throne moved only by raw aggression and a thirst for power, motivations that Vin and Arturo could thoroughly comprehend. Deep down, Iada had believed the same. She’d thought that she would come to Gabriel’s home and he would be revealed as a fraud—all his claims about mercy and justice and loyalty proven false. The truth was more disturbing. Gabriel was everything he appeared to be—strong, brave and selfless. She’d enjoyed being with him when she thought that he was an illusion. Knowing that he was genuine, she could lose her heart. She’d never felt so vulnerable.

They walked in silence back to the heart of the party. Iada looked around her with the unsettling revelation that Gabriel had risked everything for these outcasts. Such weakness. She shivered and Gabriel pulled her in tight against him. These people were in great danger if her uncles ever became aware of the strength of his attachment.

***

Gabriel pulled her toward the area of the patio cleared for dancing. He would ease her into meeting the rest of his people. He’d noted the hostility in the eyes of several people here and felt a surge of protectiveness that was nearly overwhelming. He’d underestimated the capacity of his people for hatred.

He brushed his lips across Iada’s forehead as he considered the best way to proceed. It was important to him that they accept her. Equally important that she come to accept them. At least accept their right to exist. He had little hope that she could care for them in any meaningful way. Her uncles, surely, had ruined her for that.

Pulling her lithe little body tight against his in a close turn, he wedged his thigh between her legs and brushed high into the cradle of her hips. He smiled when she gasped at the grind there and he curved his arm up her back, lightly gripping the back of her neck and pulling back just enough to drop a quick kiss onto her parted lips. She actually blushed and he almost stopped dancing just to admire the flood of color across her skin.

“We need to return to the compound as soon as possible. This was a mistake,” she said when her eyes refocused.

Her words hit like a blow to his chest. She was rejecting his people without giving them a chance. “Is it so difficult to mingle with your inferiors?” His fingers pinched the tender skin of her neck. He wanted her to look at him when she said it. He needed to see the contempt in her eyes so that he could accept it.

“We endanger them by our presence here,” she said. For all of her stillness, he had the impression that she was distressed by something.

“You’re concerned for their safety?” His brows lifted in disbelief and he relaxed his grip. The idea evidently did not sit well with her either. She looked like she’d been expecting to sink her teeth into a fresh kill but instead got rancid meat and a mouthful of maggots. Gabriel’s lips twitched but he managed not to smile.

“Your human half makes you overly sentimental,” she snapped.

He pulled her close and rested his cheek on the top of her head. He did smile then but took mercy on her by diverting the conversation. “We need to gather a band of fighters loyal to us, able to guard our backs until we can pacify your uncles. I’ve sent word out and it shouldn’t take long. Many will be eager to provide that particular service. We only need to pick out the best skilled and we’ll be on our way.”

Her gaze darted around the patio and she shivered though it was not cold. He drew her back close against his body, letting his warmth and the music soothe her. Wonder of wonders, Iada had a heart buried somewhere beneath that marvelous chest of hers. He grinned with the knowledge of how revolted she would be by that observation. Not able to resist, he took her lips tenderly, moving his mouth softly over hers. She barely tensed at all this time before relaxing, all her soft curves fitting themselves perfectly against his body. Again, he was home.

“Don’t worry about them, Iada. They’re used to living under the threat of violence. They’re ready to flee at a moment’s notice. They would die to protect each other.” He tipped her chin up with his hand. “Including you.”

“That would be an idiotic thing for them to do,” she said bluntly. “It’s clear they don’t approve of me.”

He grimaced but nodded in acknowledgment. He wouldn’t lie to her. “They’ll accept you long before your people accept me.”

Her brow creased and then she actually tried to reassure him. Amazing. Touching his jaw with her fingertips, her black eyes wide and earnest, she said, “The Yaguara will accept you. They honor strength. You’ve proven that you possess the strength to claim the throne but not that you have the strength to hold it. Deal with Vin and Arturo and you will have their loyalty.”

Gabriel tilted his head to indicate the gathered people. “These people would die to protect each other. That’s loyalty.”

She shook her head. A light misting rain fell softly, wetting the lanterns and catching in her hair. “That is love.”

He chuckled softly. He couldn’t help it. He’d never thought to be schooled by a Silveira on love. Iada’s delicate brows had drawn downward in a frown and he ran his thumb along the right one to smooth away the expression. He asked her gently, “What do you know about love, beauty?”

“I know you won’t get it from anyone at the compound.”

He couldn’t resist the challenge in her eyes. “Not even from you?”

He’d expected instant denial but she only held his gaze. He could see the soft tremor at the corner of her lips. Her eyes held such raw need that he shook with the urge to carry her up to that narrow mattress and fill her with his body until the shadow of it was gone forever. He wanted to kill Vin and Arturo, to crack their skulls with his own jaws and feel their blood spurting hot in his mouth. He wanted to protect her from them. She looked scared. His fingers swept lightly across her cheekbone and he hoped that she didn’t notice how unsteady his hand was.

“I’ll take care of you, Iada,” he promised. An impulsive vow. Foolish, he thought, even as he realized he would die to keep it.

Her eyes hardened, that soft look gone in an instant. “I take care of me, Gabriel.”

The music ended and they were drawn apart, Gabriel to be toasted and Iada on some small errand for Anna. Gabriel watched her walk away with a troubled heart.

***

Between Gabriel, Anna and Enrique, someone was always by Iada’s side, buffering her from the barely veiled hostility of the others. Even Lucas took her hand and led her to the dance floor when Anna left to tend Michael. It was when the dance had ended that one man finally was brave enough or drunk enough to confront her directly. Lucas saw him first and shifted to block the man’s path. Iada snorted. As if she were not capable of defending herself. The man was middle-aged with salt-and-pepper hair, a narrow frame, wide mouth and thick brows drawn together in a scowl.

“Steven,” Lucas said in a low voice, but the approaching man ignored the warning in his tone.

It seemed best to let Lucas handle his friend. Gabriel would be displeased if she drew blood here, she thought. Steven ignored Lucas, eyes fixed on Iada. Lucas took a step forward until they stood chest to chest, forcing the man back with his larger body. Steven craned his neck around Lucas’s broad shoulder.

“The Silveira champion,” he sneered. “Cowering behind a human.”

Iada regarded him calmly and pointedly looked away. Unfortunately that brought her attention to the wall of hostile eyes surrounding them.

Barred from his prey, Steven addressed the crowd. “Her family killed my Bella.”

Reluctantly Iada looked back at the man. He was pointing at her, finger quivering. His eyes were too bright, his lips pulled taut with anger. And then Gabriel was behind her. She could feel his presence, solid and reassuring at her back.

“My wife did not kill your daughter, Steven.” Gabriel’s voice was smooth and low.

Steven would not be soothed. “She is one of them.”

“Bella might have died during the pregnancy even if the father had stayed. You know that’s always a risk.” Gabriel stepped around her, placing himself to her side.

Steven turned slightly to follow him, slashing out with one arm and nearly catching his closest neighbor across the face. “Bella would still be alive if that monster hadn’t put his child in her belly. And what of the boy? He had as much responsibility to his son as to my daughter.”

Gabriel sighed. “Yes.”

Steven’s lip curled back from his teeth. “Now you will make peace with these animals. You will not change what they are.”

Iada heard murmurs of agreement from the crowd. The place between her shoulder blades began to itch. Steven swung around abruptly and spit on her. It splattered on her bare calf. She wanted to cringe, run for a towel to wipe it off but she held her ground and met his glare dead-on.

Gabriel moved forward, fisting his hand in Stephen’s shirt and dragging him away, face grim. And Iada was left standing alone surrounded by all those hateful eyes, blaming her for the punishment Steven would surely receive at her husband’s hands. She was tired of taking the blame for other people’s actions. She met each glare until one by one they dropped their eyes and turned away.

Finally she turned to Anna, who wordlessly handed her a thin towel dyed sunshine-yellow. It was damp and she was grateful. The spit had likely dried by now and she wanted to scrub away all traces of it. She let Anna lead her to a bench a little apart from the crowd. By the time she was done scrubbing at her leg, Gabriel was standing there. He was breathing heavily and his knuckles looked red.

Wordlessly he held out his hand. She took it and pressed a gentle kiss to the raw knuckles. When she looked up into his face, his gray eyes met hers, questioning and solemn. Iada placed her hand in his and let him lead her back to his people.

Chapter Seven

Iada opened her eyes to the sight of dust floating in a shaft of light. There were no drapes to keep out the morning sun. The window was propped open by a length of wood, the glass above cracked but the screen was intact. She rolled her head to the side and found Gabriel blinking his eyes open. He rubbed at his face with a hand and sighed. His arm slipped back over his head, exposing his flank.

Not looking at her, he said, “I want to apologize for Steven’s behavior last night.”

She propped herself up on an elbow. “Why?”

“It was unconscionable. He…”

“I mean, why should you apologize for him?”

He stared at the ceiling for what seemed a long time before releasing a slow breath. “You were the Silveira champion, Iada. You share in their guilt.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. Trust Gabriel to cut right to the heart of the matter. He’d known exactly where she was going with her question. She loved that intelligence and the direct, unflinching way he met every challenge. She hated that it placed him beyond her ability to manipulate. He would never understand her position or the choices she’d made.

“I am not like them,” she said softly.

She didn’t realize that she’d been holding her breath for his response until he turned his head to look at her and then it left her in a rush. He didn’t believe her. The sunlight fell harshly on the flat planes of his face, highlighting the black stubble on his jaw, a creased line on his cheek from the mattress, and those eyes, oddly depthless in the bright light. She could see the truth in the blank set to his features and the stillness in his body. He rolled onto his elbow and brushed his thumb across her lips.

“Iada,” he said gently, and suddenly she did not want to hear whatever words followed that killing tone.

She reached up and pulled him to her, arching to meet his lips. She’d never been so attracted to a man before—his strength and his courage, the decency that went bone deep. She wanted him with a searing need that shook her to the core. She wanted to be someone that he could love.

His warm hands skimmed down over her skin, tracing the under curves of her breasts, splaying flat across her stomach. And then he parted her legs gently and settled himself between her thighs. Resting his weight on his elbows, he curled his arms beneath her shoulders and his hands went to hold her face steady for his kiss, a long, slow slide of his tongue through her parted lips. She sucked at the tip and felt him tremble. He tasted her thoroughly and when he pulled away, he looked surprised, his lips curving into a shaky smile. His eyes moved over her face.

“You are so beautiful.”

She silenced him again with her mouth. She didn’t want to be reminded of that. Her beauty might be the only thing that held him to her but she didn’t want to think about that just now. He had amazing lips, Iada thought, full and mobile with a tendency to curl at the edges. She tilted her chin up so that she could taste them again and that was all the permission he needed.

She felt the tip of him prodding against her, testing her readiness, slipping just inside before driving smoothly into her in one long thrust. She arched her back, pulling up her knees to accept all of him. He held himself steady for a heartbeat, letting her body adjust to his full thick length then he took a ragged breath and began to move.

Her arms curled around his back and she pulled him in tighter, making her own demands. He answered every one of them with a tight flex of his hips and the slow slide of his flesh against hers. She dug her fingers into rigid sweat-slicked muscle as he settled into a rhythm, steady and relentless, full lips pulled taut with determination.

With a rough sound somewhere between a snarl and a plea, he flipped her onto her stomach, his large hands curving around the bones of her hips and using them to pull her back against him. He pushed himself deep, his fingers reaching around to touch her clit with firm strokes that matched the pulse inside her. He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder.

“Give it to me, Iada,” he demanded, his voice raw and deep, a snarl against her skin. He nipped at her shoulder and she came hard, surrendering everything while he held her shuddering body and surged into her again and again.

He slammed himself full inside her and held her hips back hard when he came. At least there was this, Iada thought. This is not a lie.

She hated that Gabriel didn’t trust her. She hated that he could be right not to.

***

They dozed. She was half sprawled across Gabriel’s chest. Her cheek was damp where it had been pressed to warm skin. His arm curved around the backs of her shoulders. The sun had shifted so that light no longer slashed across their pillow and the air had warmed. The scent of their sex was still thick in the small room. She kissed his flat brown nipple laying so close to her mouth and closed her eyes. Then she heard again the sound that must have first awoken her. There were sharp voices coming from the hall. She sat up just before the door to the apartment slammed open. She rolled, gaining her feet as Gabriel sat up and Lucas burst into the room.

She began to relax when she realized who it was but then she saw the look in his eyes. She was against the wall with his hand clamped to her throat before her mind recognized the threat.

“Where is he?” Lucas demanded.

Her eyes shot to Gabriel, climbing to his feet, a snarl on his lips. Clearly he was not referring to Gabriel. Who, then? Her fingers began to curve, claws extending smoothly through her skin. She could gut him before he stepped back. But this was Lucas. Anna’s Lucas, though he did not look much like the man she knew just now. His face was flushed and spittle flew from his lips when he yelled again. “Where?”

Her head cracked against the wall, crumbling the old plaster. Gabriel was standing next to Lucas, trying to pry his fingers loose without hurting him. Iada kept her hands down though every muscle in her body was screaming at her to defend herself. She couldn’t, not without hurting Lucas. Anna was in the doorway and she was yelling too, though by now the words were indistinct and everything was starting to go hazy. Gabriel at last simply tore Lucas away and shoved him to the corner.

“What is this?” Gabriel asked.

Anna pointed at Iada. “They took Michael. Please, you must tell us where he is.”

Anna was trembling with fear. Lucas was trembling with rage. And Gabriel…Gabriel was very still—muscles locked, face blank, gaze steady and fixed on her. They stayed like that for what seemed a very long time glaring at her in accusation with only their panting breath breaking the silence inside the small room.

Finally Gabriel moved, walking toward her slowly and asking in a quietly reasonable tone, “What was the plan?”

She’d known it was coming but still it felt like he’d curled his claws into her soft flesh and tugged something loose. With as much dignity as she could muster, she dropped her hand from her throat and pushed away from the wall.

“I was with you, Gabriel,” she reminded him. “This entire time.”

“Iada,” Anna wailed from the corner. “Please.”

From the corner of her eye, Iada saw Lucas gather Anna up and press her face against his chest. She could hear the soft snuffling noises Anna made as she sobbed. Gabriel let her listen to that awful sound for a moment.

“I know that you’re not as callous as you’d have us think,” he said gently. “I know that your uncles are. Think what they will do to Michael. He is innocent in all of this.”

A shudder ran through her body. If her uncles had taken Michael, it would be a wonder if he still lived. She knew they considered the mutants as less even than human. But she would not say that aloud here with Anna and Lucas hovering nearby listening to every word. She remembered the warm weight of her nephew snuggled on her lap, the trusting way that he looked at her. No one ever looked at her like that. Certainly no one in this room. She was having trouble looking into Gabriel’s eyes. Her own stung and she wouldn’t let him see that.

“I know nothing of their plan. But…”

Gabriel gripped her jaw and angled it back so she had to face him. And when she did look at him, she flinched. He was so angry. She’d become accustomed to the glint of humor always shading his eyes. She’d seen mistrust there and determination. Lust. But never disgust until now.

“Iada,” he growled. “I told you that I would have no mercy for you if you sided with your uncles. Consider your next words very carefully.”

He wouldn’t believe her and they were only wasting time. She shoved aside the hurt and let anger flood its place. She shifted slightly so that his grip slipped and then stepped out of Gabriel’s reach. The hand that had been holding her closed into a fist.

“I can take you to him.”

It was the truth. There was only one place her uncles would take him near here and she could track them once they left the city if for some reason they did go elsewhere. They would not return to the compound until this was ended. Gabriel was correct in that. Politically they could not afford to publicly murder a battle-crowned king. But privately…

Gabriel’s gaze hardened. She had not thought that possible. Lucas climbed to his feet, pulling Anna up with him. She would not look at them.

“They’re only drawing you out, away from human eyes into the jungle where they are strongest,” she warned Gabriel. She couldn’t help it even though he was looking at her now with hatred. He’d never wanted a wife. He certainly did not want her now. She should be helping her uncles. They would spare her life when this was through if she helped them now. She thought of Michael and looked back at Gabriel.

“It is a trap,” she told him.

“I know.” He grabbed her by the wrist, painfully tight, and pulled her with him toward the door.

***

The jungle had been cleared here decades ago and was now growing back a tangled, treacherous mess. It was nearly impassable even in jaguar form. The ones who could not shift had to remain behind. Even armed with machetes and guns, they could not keep up or protect themselves here. Lucas had been furious but Gabriel had eventually convinced him to stay with Anna.

Iada had shifted as soon as they left the city and now watched Gabriel hug Anna tightly one last time and clap Lucas on the shoulder before shifting himself. She lay on a thick branch above the scene and tried to ignore the deep ache inside her chest. Anna glanced up at her once and then reached for her husband. Iada leapt nimbly to the jungle floor and followed Gabriel into the brush. He could scent them now too, she was certain. The trail was clear—a dozen Yaguara and one mutant human. Michael’s scent was strong enough that she thought he might grow to be a shifter like Gabriel if they found him in time.

She ducked under a vine, belly to the ground. There were only four with them, plus herself and Gabriel. Enrique was there, even old as he was. The other three, two men and one woman were shifters she had not met who had come in response to Gabriel’s call for a guard. This, she supposed, would be a good test of their abilities.

She recognized the scents of the Yaguara they tracked. Vin and Arturo had brought with them only the best, of course. Mateus was there as well, which was surprising given his age. But the rest were young men and women in their prime.

Gabriel was only a few feet ahead of her, weaving through the shadows silently. Dusk was short and brutal and within moments the darkness was complete. Iada heard the sharp cry of a harpy eagle and paused, thinking at first that it might be Michael. Frightened. Maybe hurt. She would kill her uncles for this. For what she now knew they had done to Anna. For what they had made of her. A killer—callous and mindless. That was what Gabriel believed. That was what her uncles had created. It was only just that their weapon be turned against them.

And then what? a small, scared part of her asked. Thorns hooked into the thick skin of her flank and ripped free. She drew in a sharp breath at the flare of pain and saw Gabriel’s head cock slightly, registering the sound. He did not look back at her and she was grateful. She could smell her blood and the Yaguara would too, but there was no help for it now. Stealth would not aid them. The Yaguara had baited their trap well and would be waiting. Iada wondered what Gabriel intended. He’d not shared his plans with her. Knowing her mate, he would hand himself over to her uncles’ mercy in exchange for the child. Perhaps, given what he thought of her, he would first attempt to threaten Iada to force an exchange that way. Foolish. Her uncles had always been willing to sacrifice her for their ambitions. Only one thing would satisfy them—Gabriel’s blood.

As they passed through the last of the tangled new growth, their passage became easier and their pace increased. The trees were taller now and the floor relatively clear. The sounds of the jungle were muffled and distant, making the sound of their breathing echo unnaturally in the still night. Close now. There was a light ahead—the orange flicker of torchlight.

Gabriel slowed, making a low snarling noise to ready his warriors. Iada could not see them spread out as they were but she knew that each now advanced on the ruin. There was a single torch set in rock with a still wrapped bundle lying directly below it. The Yaguara were well hidden, possibly behind them now. Iada could sense her uncles nearby, waiting in the shadows as always, waiting for their prize. She intended to give them what they wanted.

She blocked Gabriel’s advance with her body. When he snarled at her, she shoved him off balance and darted forward before he could stop her. That was not Michael there. She would bet money on it. His scent, though, was on the blanket. She snagged a corner with her teeth and the dead monkey rolled out, bouncing off the raised rock on which she now stood beneath the flickering torch, alone and completely exposed. There was nothing else to do. She shifted. A familiar shudder of pain shaded pleasure and moments later, she was standing there trembling slightly, naked and watching a shape part from the shadows of a hidden cave. Blood from her scratch slipped down her rib cage. Her eyesight was not as sharp in human form and it took her a moment longer to focus.

Horror and rage sliced through her body when she saw Arturo standing framed at the entrance holding Michael in his arms. Even though she’d been anticipating it, the sight struck her like a physical blow. A dozen full-blooded warriors ranged behind him. Mateus was there too, expression drawn.

“Such a fragile little thing. It’s no wonder most of them don’t survive to maturity,” Arturo said, looking down at the squirming infant. When he looked up again, he smiled and bowed his head briefly. “My queen.”

She fought to control her reaction. She did not so much as glance at Michael. She needed for Arturo to believe that she was nothing more than the weapon he’d created. Iada could read her uncle’s intention in his cold dark eyes…and the question there as well. She repressed a shudder, lifted her chin and nodded slightly. His smile widened, and then he tilted his head toward the jungle.

“Will the king be joining us?”

“Of course, uncle,” she said, bowing her head.

She could sense Gabriel coming up behind her. His heat pressed in on her, his scent a bitter mix of fear and anger that made her nostrils flare. He should have stayed back, organized his guard for attack and let her handle her uncles. She was well used to that role at least. But of course, she reminded herself, he did not trust her.

“If any harm comes to that child,” Gabriel growled, “I will kill you so slowly that you beg for death.”

Arturo’s smirk slid into a full grin, confident that he was in control. He glanced at Iada and she raised an eyebrow, a long-standing signal that she was prepared to follow his lead. Where was Vin? His absence was an unexpected complication. She pushed that worry aside and focused on the one at hand.

“You should not make threats you’re not able to enforce,” Arturo told Gabriel. “A bit of advice, one leader to another. Not that you’ll have the opportunity to use it.”

Gabriel’s voice thickened so that his response was barely understandable. “You will not harm the child.”

Arturo chuckled in genuine amusement. Iada closed her eyes. He was so transparent, her mate. Bold and disturbingly honest. Usually she admired him for it, just not now. Right now she needed to distract Arturo’s attention away from Michael and there was only one thing that would do that. She snagged Gabriel’s wrist, twisting it between his shoulder blades, and then she pushed him forward into the waiting warriors. He managed to free his arm before the guards were on him, flipping her to the ground in the process. Her head cracked hard against the jagged edge of the rock and the skin along the back of her shoulder was scraped raw as she slid down the side.

There was a scuffle above as they drove Gabriel to the ground and bound him. The hard thud of fists meeting flesh sounded again and again, echoed by soft grunts and muffled groans. She ignored the sound and stumbled to her feet, feeling the cut to her scalp with her fingertips. Only two inches and not too deep. It seemed an inordinate amount of blood for such a little cut but head wounds were like that. Gabriel was bound by the time she climbed back onto the ledge. She could feel the heat of his glare sweep over her. His untrained guard rushed the perimeter and the waiting Yaguara warriors made quick work of them as well. Gabriel was actually snarling in rage at her betrayal. She didn’t dare look his way. Was it really a betrayal when this was what he had expected all along?

Stepping lightly over Gabriel’s body, she took Michael from her uncle before he could discard the child. Michael wailed but shushed when she shifted him against her shoulder. It was as much comfort as she dared offer him. She stepped back, hoping the shadows obscured her. Mateus found her as Arturo went forward to inspect his prize.

“Iada,” Mateus whispered furiously, narrowed black eyes searching over her face.

Iada shook her head. “It’s the only way.”

Vin had conveniently arrived only after Gabriel was restrained, she noted. He was now gloating over Gabriel’s prone body with his brother. The remaining Yaguara were still occupied with subduing Gabriel’s guard. They weren’t being gentle about it and Iada winced at the smell of fresh blood.

“Take the child to Anna,” she told Mateus. “You’ll be able to follow our trail to her.”

Mateus sucked in a sharp breath. “Anna lives?”

Iada nodded, ignoring the confirmation that Mateus had known all along what her uncles had done to her sister. She should have known. She should have been able to prevent it. “Gabriel may track you.” She ignored the skeptical look Mateus shot her way and continued in a whisper, “You can trust him.”

“Then why…”

Iada cut him off. “Trust me and go…” She faltered then and when Mateus looked as if he would object further, she pushed Michael into his arms and added, “Please.”

A fleeting expression of shock crossed his features but he took Michael and nodded. As soon as he turned away, she stepped forward to join her uncles. With luck Mateus would be well away with Michael before her uncles thought to question where the child had gone. They would likely think that someone had simply disposed of the noisy, pungent little burden. As long as they had Gabriel, they were unlikely to worry overmuch about their bait.

She waited until she was certain that Mateus was gone before placing her hand on Vin’s sleeve to draw his attention.

“I knew you wouldn’t let us down, child,” he said to her, and she didn’t even cringe. Not even when Arturo wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed them in a rare show of approval.

Arturo dipped his head and said to her in a low voice, “No matter if the mutant defiled you, Iada. You are still queen. We will tell the people that your sacrifice was part of our plan to root out this rebellion.”

Gabriel surged up to his knees, displacing the two men who’d been holding him down with the weight of their huge bodies. His face was warped in a grimace of anger and searing hatred. “Defiled?” He spat, blood spraying from his split lip. “When do you feel defiled, wife—when I am buried inside you? Or is it only after?”

“Both,” Iada said flatly and Gabriel lunged forward, shifting midair and knocking Luis to the floor. Rafael just managed to slip the ring around his neck and pull him back an instant before his teeth sank into Iada’s thigh.

Gabriel shifted back to human form to loosen the choke of the metal wire, hatred raw and blazing in his eyes as he glared up at Iada. His voice was tight with fury. “One of those times when you were trembling beneath me, crying out my name, I might have planted a mutant child in you. What will you do then?”

He was trying to shame her, trying to turn her uncles and their men against her, letting them know that she had betrayed them too. His rage played perfectly into her plan. She’d hoped that Gabriel would not see through her deception. At the same time, a small secret part of her had hoped that he would know the truth. It hurt. Either way, it hurt her badly. But as always, she wrapped her will around her heart and did what was necessary.

Iada looked Gabriel dead in the eye and said, “I will ensure that child follows his father to the grave.” Ignoring his howl of rage, she calmly turned her back on her husband and looked to her uncle.

“Let me kill him,” she demanded. “It is my right.”

Vin smiled slowly and but he didn’t lower the gun. She saw his finger begin to move and she pivoted sharply, disarming him with a swift twist to his wrist. The hollow snap told her she’d broken bone and she smiled grimly as she wrenched the weapon free. Leveling it only inches from Arturo’s head, she commanded Rafael over her shoulder, “Release your king.”

Vin was writhing in the dirt at her feet and she stepped a little apart from him so that he wouldn’t be able to distract her. Gabriel had gone quiet and still. Rafael looked from her to Gabriel, back to the cringing Arturo and then he made his decision. She knew these warriors—the fiercest the Yaguara possessed. Her uncles had made a grave miscalculation. These men would follow the strongest leader.

She didn’t dare take her eyes off her uncles. She heard the bright slide of metal behind her, Rafael’s soft murmur and Gabriel’s answering grunt. She felt Gabriel approach, felt the warmth of him at her back, felt one of his large hands cup her shoulder. She could feel him trembling still, but his touch was achingly gentle. He said nothing as she told Pedro to release Gabriel’s guard and then to secure her uncles in the cave. She ordered the limping Enrique to stand guard until she came to relieve him. He was the only one she could trust here not to be manipulated by their lies.

***

Gabriel’s guard stood frozen in place behind him, silent and watchful. No shouts of joy at the capture of their enemy, not a breath or a whisper of movement. Gabriel reached for Iada but she slipped away, placing the gun on the rock ledge with a click, bracing herself against the soft cast of his eyes, the tender note in his voice as he whispered her name.

“Defile?” Her voice was shaking. She took a deep breath to steady it. “How could you believe it, Gabriel? Do you not know me at all?”

He took a step forward. “You were raised on ugly lies, Iada. I could never be certain how deeply they lodged. Until now.”

“I am not an idiot. I don’t believe everything that I hear,” she said pointedly and he winced. “Mateus is on his way to Anna with Michael. We need to catch him and make sure they get there safely.”

She swayed and put a hand to her forehead. The hair there was matted and tacky with blood. Gabriel grabbed her forearm to steady her. His hand was so warm and familiar that she whimpered, a soft sound swallowed down quickly, but his fingers tightened and she knew that he’d heard it too.

“Here, sit. That cut looks bad. I didn’t…I am sorry.” And his hand was on her shoulder, pushing her down to the rock. His care was like a rending claw tearing up her insides. The worried frown on his face as his fingers deftly probed the edges of the cut was the worst part of this awful day. In it she saw her future.

Gabriel would care for her and demand that his people respect her. He would honor her as his wife because that was who he was. But she would know that when he looked at her he saw the Silveira champion, an enemy, a woman not to be trusted. And she couldn’t offer up a defense. She was a traitor—maybe not to him but to her own family.

And she wanted him badly enough to almost make it worth it. She would come to accept it if she stayed—arching into every touch from him, aching for a scrap of praise, waiting for him to look at her with that cocky half smile, all the while knowing that he would never really love her back. Her uncles had imprisoned and controlled her but Gabriel was far more dangerous. If she allowed it, he would own her—body, heart and soul.

“Give me a moment while you gather your men and figure out what to do with my uncles,” she told him, swallowing hard, past the thickness clogging up her throat. “Then we can go see that Michael makes it back to Anna safely.”

He gave her a searching look, the frown never leaving his face. They could both hear Enrique calling his name and she knew that Gabriel would not ignore his duty.

“We are not finished with this conversation.” He hesitated until Enrique shouted again then dropped a kiss to the top of her head and turned away. She watched him until he entered the cave. Then she shifted and slipped away.

***

Gabriel looked out into the jungle. The lone torch had long since burned itself out and his eyes had adjusted to the darkness once again. The jungle sounded active, raucous, crowded…normal. He heard Enrique cross from the cave he’d insisted upon checking one last time.

Gabriel didn’t bother turning. “She’s gone.”

“Maybe she followed Michael,” Enrique said. “It took longer than we thought to…”

“No.”

He was certain of it. Although he’d been certain that she would have more courage than to slink away when his back was turned. Something must have spooked her badly. Even as he thought it, his sense of honesty rejected it. She’d left him, and not out of fear. It was intentional disregard. He’d rejected her when he assumed that she was the traitor. So she’d dismissed him after she’d single-handedly rescued Michael and Gabriel both.

Enrique placed a hand on his shoulder. “Gabriel, you need to make sure Michael makes it back safely to Anna and then you can go to Iada. I’ll follow her now.”

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. “She’s injured.”

“It will make her easier to track,” Enrique said.

Gabriel looked down at his hands where her blood still stained his fingers. He remembered the way she’d pulled away from him and the bruised look to her eyes. “Bring her back to me.”

Enrique sighed but nodded. “If she wishes.”

Chapter Eight

She was better off without Gabriel, Iada thought, making her way through the market. She’d returned to the compound first to reassure Beatriz that Mateus lived, to tell her the news and prepare any who might be sympathetic to Gabriel. Beatriz happily informed her that there were many who’d been secretly pleased by her uncles’ fall. It surprised her when Beatriz said that Nicolas and Miguel supported Gabriel, both purists at the academy who were disdainful of mutants as a whole.

“The qualities that make them dismiss the mutants as lesser are the same that make them hold to the old ways and the law,” Beatriz had told her. “They look at Gabriel’s strength and his courage and they see a king. A flair for drama, your mate, but it serves him well. It recalls to them the warriors of legend and makes your uncles appear petty bureaucrats by comparison.”

She did not tell Beatriz of her plans to leave. Beatriz wanted her to remain in bed. The blow to her head, the long cut along her side and the scrapes at her back were not as bad as they looked and troubled her little, but Beatriz was prone to smother.

And so Iada had done what she could to ease Gabriel’s return in the few days that she remained at the compound, gathering money, supplies and information. Then she walked into the jungle at twilight with a small pack strapped across her shoulders and she did not look back as the light faded behind her.

Traveling north and east, she walked for a full day before she had to slow in order to avoid the human settlements that were becoming more frequent along the river. She would not stop here among them. There were too few people, small groups of extended family. They would ask too many questions of a woman appearing out of the jungle.

She’d come all the way to Santarem—big enough to get lost in and a tourist city flooded with new faces weekly. She’d stayed at a modest hotel the first week while she healed enough so that people stopped staring at the bandage over her forehead. After that, with no purpose, she lost her way, wandering about the city, the bars and marketplaces, watching the humans but not knowing how to be one of them.

So she’d decided to find a small apartment that opened onto a courtyard with blooming granadilla’s that reminded her of Enrique. She’d found a job—how her uncles would have laughed—as a waitress at a tiny restaurant. She learned how to talk to people. She learned when to laugh at a joke and how to slap away a bold hand without drawing blood. She’d learned to stop looking over her shoulder whenever she caught sight of a well-formed black-haired man on the streets.

She knew better but it took weeks before she stopped thinking that Gabriel would come for her. He had what he wanted now. There was no reason for him to come. The sun was high, still shining directly into the empty market square. No one would come to the restaurant for a few hours yet when the day began to cool but she’d promised Tilda that she would come in early to help with the prep work.

Iada turned down a narrow street, little more than an alley between buildings, and the sweat between her shoulders cooled at the sudden drop in temperature. When she came out the other side, the glare made her miss the man sitting beneath the faded green awning at first.

“You look well, Iada,” he said warmly.

She stopped walking and stared, blinking until her eyes could focus. And then she walked forward, wary but smiling. “Enrique. It is good to see you.”

She meant it even as she wondered why he was here. He was dressed in khaki shorts and an orange T-shirt, sunglasses and one of the floppy canvas hats the tourists liked to wear.

She raised one eyebrow. “Vacation?”

“I thought I would travel.” He grinned, spreading his hands wide. “A pilgrimage of sorts. I follow the same trail the queen of the Yaguara took upon her exile.”

Her blood chilled a bit at that and her smile faded. “Exile?”

Enrique waved a hand. “Self-imposed. It’s a tragic tale. Have you never heard it?”

She sat down at the empty chair across from him. “Tell me of this foolish queen who would leave her home to come to such a place.”

“Not foolish,” Enrique said with a solemnity at odds with her teasing tone. “She was cunning and strong.”

He sat back in his chair and took a sip from his bottle of Skol. She traced the ring of condensation it left behind and waited for him to continue.

“She was betrayed first by her family and then by her lover, the king. So she left the lot of them behind. Not so very foolish, I think.”

She took a napkin and wiped away the mess she’d made, still not looking at him. “Perhaps she was foolish to trust them in the first place.”

“Trust is like hope,” Enrique said, giving her a wry smile. “Never foolish although sometimes misplaced.”

“Don’t,” she warned him.

He leaned forward and tried to take her hand. “People make mistakes. I think that…”

She cut him off, gaze angling up sharply to meet his, already tired of the game. “Do not ask me to forgive him when he did not care enough to come himself. He is not here.”

Enrique watched her outburst calmly, taking another long sip of his drink before leaning forward and setting down his glass. “He is where he should be, where he needs to be now, holding on to his throne by the tip of one claw. You should be at his side.”

She stood abruptly, nearly oversetting her chair. It stung. It shouldn’t but it did. She was tired of other people binding her with their expectations. She’d thrown off those bonds and she liked the freedom of only answering to herself. She didn’t owe anyone anything and she liked it that way. A rare breeze came through, ruffling the awning and blowing a strand of hair across her face. She absently tucked it behind her ear and said, “Enjoy your stay, Enrique. I do wish all of you the best.”

He grabbed her arm when she moved to walk past him. She looked down at his face and would have torn her arm free if not for the sympathetic look there. “I know that he hurt you badly but he is a good man. He sent me to find you as soon as you left. That boy is probably worried sick by now.” He grinned and said conspiratorially, “I thought that a little worry might be good for him.”

When she didn’t answer, his grin faded a bit. He shook her arm lightly and said, “Give him another chance.”

Tilda waved at her from the window and Iada pulled her arm free to wave back. “I need to go to work.”

Enrique lifted his brows at that but said nothing. She would have resented it if he had. She was proud of her job and her place here. It was something she could claim as her own. She tilted her head, not wanting to leave him on that sour note. “Do you have a place to stay tonight?”

“There’s a shelter a few blocks over. One of Gabriel’s. I’ll bring them the good news and start back in the morning.” A pause. “You’re welcome to join me.”

She shook her head. “I’ll think about what you said,” she promised. “But I’m still trying to figure out who I am without someone to tell me.”

His eyes widened and he laughed. “If you did not already know that, you would have become the monster your uncles wanted long ago.”

“I did.” Her hand fisted. “I was.”

“No.” The voice came from behind her and she swung around to find Gabriel standing there, looking uncertain and irritated and absolutely gorgeous. Sunlight gleamed on his sleek black hair and highlighted the stark planes of his face. He wore a white button-down shirt tucked into dark jeans that did more to show his muscles than cover them. His hands rested lightly on his hips as he stood there, letting her look her fill while his gaze moved over her. He lingered on the scar just below her hairline and she tilted her head down, letting her hair shift to hide it.

His sharp gaze moved to fix Enrique with a glare. “Four weeks. You just arrived today, Rosa said.”

Enrique shrugged. “I am an old man, my friend. I don’t travel as quickly as I used to.”

Gabriel snorted his opinion of that and dismissed Enrique with a shake of his head. Looking back at Iada, he took a step in her direction. The intent in his eyes stole her breath. He wanted her still. That was not why she ran, she reminded herself, and tried to ignore the need on his face, tried to ignore the ache of her own desire rising up to answer his. She stepped away from him and he faltered, face clearing of all expression.

“Why are you here, Gabriel?”

She could see his throat move as he swallowed and the wary cast to his features. “I gave you as much time as I could. I missed you, Iada. I need you.” His deep voice poured over her like warmed oil. She refused to be undone by the caress of it.

She frowned. “Is there a problem? When I was at the compound, it didn’t seem to me that anyone there would give you much trouble. I escorted the worst of my uncles’ supporters to the borders myself.”

He smiled as if that amused him greatly and he shook his head. “I’ve only had to threaten a few troublemakers. It’s mostly toe-dodging diplomacy now.”

She smiled a little at that. “Just as well I’m not there, then. I never could resist stomping on toes.”

He gave her that crooked smile and hers faded. The silence stretched uncomfortably and she thought about retreating inside the restaurant.

“Why did you run?” he asked her gruffly. He cleared his throat and said, “I wouldn’t have stopped you if you chose to leave.”

“You’d have tried to get me to stay.”

His brow furrowed in confusion and he nodded once. “I would have done my best to convince you to stay with me.” That cocky grin she hated and loved flashed wide, kicking up a long dimple in his cheek. “I probably would have succeeded.”

“I know,” she said quietly, and he was looking at her again like he could see right through her. She knew that he understood her meaning when he groaned her name and reached for her. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe and like a coward she turned for the door.

“I have to go. I have to work,” she said quickly and slipped inside.

He didn’t follow her. She glanced through the window and he was standing there frowning at the door. Then he turned and said something sharply to Enrique. She had time to run. This time she would go far enough that he could not find her.

***

Gabriel gave her a second to feel safe and then followed her inside. He thought she might run again and knew he was right when a slim pretty woman with an apron tied to her waist moved to intercept him. Ignoring her protests, he took her by the shoulders and gently moved her to the side. He went into the kitchen. Iada was there, one hand already on the back door. She glanced back at him and her shoulders sagged.

He heard the door open behind him and Iada waved at a point somewhere over his shoulder. She said, “It’s all right, Tilda.”

He glanced back. With an aggravated huff, Tilda gave Gabriel a look that promised death should any harm come to her friend. He met her glare with a bemused smile and Tilda reluctantly retreated to the dining area. Iada had made human friends—who would have thought it? She hid a soft heart behind that cool beauty and tight reserve. He supposed it had been the only way to protect herself from her uncles all those years. Meeting his mate’s frightened but fierce gaze, he wished he could kill Vin and Arturo all over again.

Tilda would be listening at the door and he would rather not have an audience for what needed to be said between him and his mate, but looking at Iada poised to run, he would take what he could get. He walked over to her while she was still frozen with indecision. She glanced at the door behind her, still slightly ajar, and then over to a purse on the counter a few feet away. When he was close enough, he reached behind her and placed his palm flat against the door, slamming it closed. She shifted her feet back and he braced his other hand on the door as well, imprisoning her.

“Please don’t run again.” He breathed in her scent and restrained himself with effort from pressing his nose right up to her neck where it would be stronger. He was trying not to scare her. “I only want you to talk to me, love.”

She winced like he’d cut her but brave woman that she was, she met his gaze directly and said, “You don’t trust me.”

“I didn’t,” he admitted, feeling his way carefully. “I do now.”

“It still hurts.” She placed one hand between her breasts and shook her head, her hair brushing against his arms. “I was never this weak until I met you.”

Gabriel felt shattered by the honest bewilderment in her voice. He realized she must be scared half to death by the feeling of that kind of vulnerability. Especially when she couldn’t possibly understand it. She looked caged and edgy, definitely spooked.

With a sinking feeling, he realized that he’d misjudged her again. He’d believed that Iada was angry with him when she left. He’d accepted her right to it and thrown himself into the effort of securing his throne, exhausting himself daily until the need to chase her down was dulled by fatigue. It never went away. Her absence gnawed at his bones. But he had tried. He’d wanted to give her space, time for her rage to cool, time for her to decide if she could forgive him. He’d never considered that she might be afraid and he felt a surge of panic that she might run again.

“You are strong.” The strongest person he’d ever known. That strength terrified him just now, knowing that she had the strength of will to turn away from what she wanted because it made her vulnerable. So, letting some of the tenderness he felt for her show, he said gently, “It only hurts because you care for me.”

She was shaking her head but there was a glint of steel in her eyes. “I am furious with you.”

“You care for me,” he repeated, hoping that he was right. “It’s why you’re angry. That tightness in your chest? That’s your heart, beauty, flexing its poor neglected muscles. You’ll get used to it.”

“Don’t mock me.” She tried to push away but he edged his body closer.

Taking his life into his hands, he leaned into her, cupping her face to kiss her gently. “Don’t look so horrified,” he whispered against her lips. “You’re hardly defenseless.”

She shook her head and blinked furiously. Tears glittered on her long black lashes and he swallowed past the lump in his throat.

“My heart, Iada. I yield it to your care.” He nuzzled her neck and she tilted her head just so, to allow him better access. He smiled against her damp skin. “I’m sorry I was so careless with yours.”

She growled. “I want your heart out of your chest, husband, but I don’t think we speak of the same thing.”

His laugh was shaky but he dropped a kiss to her forehead before pulling her fully into his arms. “You don’t mean that,” he said. “You already had your chance to kill me. Please, Iada, forgive me. Come home.”

She let him hold her for a moment and then said, “Vin and Arturo were wrong about the mutants. My life was so focused on winning that stupid tournament. I never realized…” Her voice faded away and then she pushed against his chest hard enough to make him grunt. She glared up at him. “You believed I would kill our child.”

He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “All this time I thought your opinion of my kind was too rigid ever to be changed when I was the one being inflexible. I misjudged you.”

“And?”

His eyes narrowed. “I already apologized.”

“I liked the sound of it,” she said. “Grovel for me, husband.”

She was teasing him. His held breath let out on a chuckle. “You don’t want a man who would grovel. I know you well enough to know that.”

She smiled at him, one of those rare, beautiful things that made his heart stutter, and he felt a wash of relief flood through his body. She was softening. He felt her cool fingers slip beneath the hem of his shirt and begin to slide up the long muscles of his back. When she looked up at him, the panic that had shadowed her expression was gone. Her soft skin was flushed and her full lips parted. His cock stirred at the promise of that look.

Her gaze angled to meet his, dark and sly. “And what do you think I want, Gabriel?”

He bent his head again and whispered against her lips, “Let me show you.”

About the Author

Eleri Stone is a lifelong book addict who starts to feel a little twitchy when there’s not a good book within arm’s reach. Although she’ll read just about anything, her favorites are romance and fantasy, and she likes it best when the two are combined. Since she can’t read all of the time, she also makes up stories in her head, and when they’re good she writes them down to share. Born and raised in New Jersey, she now makes her home in Iowa with her husband and their three children.

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ISBN: 978-1-4268-9055-0

Copyright © 2010 by Eleri Stone

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