Beastly Desires (14 page)

Rave rolled a glass between his palms, his eyes focused on the ceiling of the pride house library. He stared at the small cracks and the imperfections. If the cracks grew, lengthened—became weighed down—the ceiling would cave in. It could cause damage that would have to be repaired by the hands of others. That very thing was taking place between himself and Nico. Rave had always trusted his friend’s judgment, trusted he could make the right decisions, but as of right now, he wasn’t so sure. His faith was wavering as was his ability to blindly follow demands.

Obsessed. Nico was fucking obsessed and it showed. He seemed to have the idea that, once Callum died and he had Kamali marked, his problems, his needs would end, but Rave saw otherwise. It would never end, never stop because at the root of it Kamali would escalate every issue. Her very presence would push them asunder, tear their pride apart, their bond. That bitch would become the source of many,
many
problems. She’d weaken Nico’s resolve. She’d dig under his skin like a tick and suck him dry because with her here, with her as his, she’d be able to change him. Rave’s friend—his leader—couldn’t see it. For him it was about power but what he didn’t realize was that
she
held all of it.
She
was the one in control.
She
would be Nico’s downfall;
Rave’s
downfall.

Nico was chasing her about, searching for her, attempting to bend her but Kamali would bend
him
and then she’d snap him in half. It was already beginning. He was already slowly becoming distant, short tempered. Nico’s pursuit of the lioness was coming between him and Rave. For years everything they’d done, they’d done together, as a unit, as a team. Every conquest, every kill, and every takeover had been strategically plotted by their minds but she was bringing a halt to that.

Rave’s leader wasn’t himself anymore. His sporadic behavior and total disregard for their relationship showed precisely what was happening. If Nico marked her, she’d poison him and that poison would spread. She’d make Nico look at the world differently, at his desires differently and at
Rave
differently. He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t watch that happen. He couldn’t let her come between them.

Nico would be displeased when he got the lioness back with her neck snapped but he’d get over it. Rave would simply explain it away. He’d blame it on someone else, let them take the brunt of his leader’s disappointment. Eventually, inevitably
,
Nico would realize that it was for the best—that her death alongside her cub was for the best. Then she couldn’t infect him, sever the bond he’d spent so much time forming with Rave, who’d proved his worth, his loyalty. He’d been a brother, a confidant. He’d been
here.
And he wouldn’t have that shit on by some privileged whore. No, Rave would fix these cracks. He’d mend these things with his own hands before the ceiling caved in…

***

She was mated. Kamali was
mated…
to a tiger…whose middle name she didn’t even know. Enilo was somewhere in the afterlife roaring about the idiocy of his offspring. And she deserved it. She deserved whatever arch look of feline disdain he was casting down on her. Why? Because she’d let herself forget. She’d let herself
feel.
She’d let herself
fall.
Kaisal’s history, his family dynamic, and his pride were all small details compared to what he’d shown her—kindness, integrity, genuine affection, and the fact he made her come so hard she could see
noises.
But what speared her, what took her breath away, was the protective determination etched into his gaze when he’d held Callum. There were some things a person couldn’t imitate and the look of a parent—of someone who cared—was one of them. It was written all over his expression, his body language. Callum was no better. He looked at Kaisal as if he were the answer to every problem. And that frightened her. His adoration was apparent, as was his need to remain where he felt safe.

Kamali’s hand brushed the mark on her shoulder as she finished drying off. It looked as though Callum would get his wish. If she were being honest with herself—which she wasn’t at the moment!—she’d admit it was
her
wish too. A quick glance at the mirror showed her something she hadn’t seen in days—someone who was well rested. Her eyes were brighter, her skin had regained its glow, and the tension had faded from her expression. She looked
alive
as opposed to being on autopilot.

She supposed she had Kaisal to thank for that. Her lips twitched as she swung open the bathroom door and her subconscious whispered,
“Kaisal and his cock…
”

Pulling up short as she bumped into something wide, large, and unmoving, Kamali tipped her head back to find the man in question standing in the doorway with that same innocent expression he’d been wearing the first time she caught him sniffing her.

“You were smelling me through the door, weren’t you?”

He blinked, wide eyed. “Why would I do a thing like that?”

“Because you have very clear, very perverted tendencies that disturb me.”

His mouth twisted. “And yet you haven’t run screaming into the night as of yet.”

“The last time I tried you impaled and bit me. I think that would make
anyone
cautious.”

“Madam…” He held up his right arm, showing the imprint of a bite. “You fang-banged me first.”

Kamali tucked in her lips.

Kaisal leaned forward, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grinned. “I saw that smile.”

“That wasn’t a smile. It was a grimace.”

He shook his head. “I know the difference. I make Naresh grimace all the time when I slam him face-first into things. I make Basanti grimace when I attempt to sing along to whatever I find on her playlist whilst practicing my high kicks and jazz hands. I make my father grimace with the sight of my face.
That
was not a grimace. It was a smile and oh…look at that…” Placing a finger beneath her chin, he lifted her head. “There it is again.”

She slapped his hand away. “You’re annoying me.”

“Am I?” Kaisal quirked a brow. “I got the impression I was amusing you.”

“Wrong impression.” Pushing against his chest, she demanded, “Move.”

“Someone’s cranky. How about we just fix that?”

“I’m not… Goddammit, Kaisal put me
down
!”

He whistled as he walked through the cabin and toward the kitchen, Kamali firmly over his shoulder.

“I’m going to bite you,” she warned.

“You bite me and you’ll not only lose this towel but you’ll find yourself stuffed full of tiger male. Go ahead, make my day,” he retorted. “Do you feel lucky?”

She bit the inside of her cheek.

“Well, punk?” Kaisal pushed. “Do yah?”

“I hate you.”

“Of course you do.”

The bastard was patronizing her.

Kaisal reached the kitchen and set her down at the table. “Now how about we get the angry little kitten some cocoa?”

“I told you, that’s
Callum’s
weakness.”

He smirked. “Ever had cocoa with bourbon in it?”

She waved a hand. “You now have my attention.”

Chuckling, he shuffled around the kitchen, moving with ease, like he had all the time in the world. Kamali didn’t know what was worse—the fact he was so comfortable, or the fact
she
was.

“You’re doing it again,” Kaisal sang.

Her shoulders tensed. “Doing what?”

“Analyzing something you will
never
understand.” He reached up into a cabinet just off the microwave and his shoulders flexed. There were so many scars on his evenly tanned skin, and yet they all made him look perfect rather than maimed. He was wide and muscular with a light dusting of dark chest hair that trailed down his torso. His stomach was well defined and his shoulders broader than she’d originally thought. It didn’t matter how he moved, the delineated muscles of his form stretched and flexed with feline grace. She imagined that muscle put to work beneath Army fatigues as he cut across enemy territory. In his home earlier she’d noticed the many medals and plaques on his wall from his days as a SEAL. Kamali had briefly wondered how many times an adversary saw him coming, how many times his pale eyes were the last things they witnessed before death.

The thought should’ve disturbed her but when she reflected on the intensity of that same glare as he’d so succinctly explained to her earlier that she and Callum belonged here, she could only be grateful for it. Even in his fierceness he was gentle. The man was an anomaly. Had the soul of a warrior but the heart of a lover. Somehow he’d managed to balance both into the individual softly humming and pouring her cocoa into a mug. He added the bourbon and topped it with whipped cream.

Obviously feeling that he was under her observation he said, “Ask,” before making his way to the table, setting down the mugs, picking her up, adjusting himself in
her
seat, and then placing her directly on his lap.

Kamali went to get up and he held fast. “
Relax
.”

Kaisal brushed her mark with his lips and she went lax, growling when he laughed softly.

“Don’t be rude. I just gave you alcohol and chocolate
with
whipped cream. I feel like that constitutes at least a kiss and light nuzzling.”

“How about I just don’t throw hot cocoa into your lap?”

“That works too…”

He really needed to stop that, making her smile. He’d already accused her of sexually assaulting him once today.

Strong fingers lightly pressed into the nape of her neck. “Now what is it that you wanted to ask me?”

“I didn’t—”

He firmly gripped her hair and tugged her head back, whispering, “Lying to me will get you nowhere aside from over my lap with a warm ass.” Kaisal nipped her earlobe. “Now, the truth please.”

Shaking as he released her, Kamali squeezed the mug in her hands. “Your uh…family… From India?”
Nice. Really nice. Articulate.

“Only my mother’s side,” he answered in a mild tone, slowly rocking his long legs.

“And your father’s?”

“Russia.”

“Ah.” That explained the blend of his facial characteristics.
The way his nose widened at the tip and his eyes slanted just a bit at the corners. The hard line of his jaw and his sharp cheekbones. Lunacy may have been a part of his gene pool but so were enthralling features
—including the eyes steadily burning into the back of her head.

“What about your pride?” Kaisal gently prodded.

Kamali bit her lip. “Didn’t you read my file?” She would bet anything that her entire family history rested in wherever he’d found her given name.

He sat forward and placed his mug down, wrapping his arms about her waist. “What I
got
was a basic outline of your life. What I
want
is for you to tell me.”

She sucked in a deep breath and waited a beat before saying, “My father came from a small Yorubian village in southern Benin where they worshipped Orisha
Aja—
patron god of the forest, the animals within it, and herbal healers. Long before he was born his village was attacked by a tribe in opposition to my great-
great-great
grandfather Bem’s leadership. They were almost wiped out in the battle. Bem blamed Aja, cursed him for leaving them defenseless while he kept his precious animals safe.”

“I’m going to assume that didn’t go over too well.”

Her lips curved. “And you would be right.” She glanced at him over her shoulder. “It was said that his war cry reached the heavens. From my understanding, Aja was duly pressed and insulted that someone would dare to challenge a god so he cursed Bem and all his ancestors.” Kamali thought a moment and added, “
O kigbe jade bi ohun eranko, nitorina ni mo
c
e yoo o
Í
kan
.”