A terrifying snarl rattled the air around her.
Okay, this dream wasn’t that good. It was kind of scary and didn’t make any sense. Emerald squinted her eyes open. The room was blurry for a moment before she focused on a tall, lean man slamming another dark-haired man against the wall.
The man against the wall exposed his throat, but his face said he wasn’t sorry for anything he’d said. “I’m on your team, you know,” the dark-haired man, Kannon, growled. “Not all Tarians are bad.”
“Fuck!” the tall man yelled. He shoved off the other man and sat heavily into a chair on the other side of the room. Kannon left, slamming the door behind him.
Uh, this was not a dream. Where the hell was she? Scared into stillness, she watched the man run his hands down his beard and then rest his elbows on his knees. He stared at the ground, shaking his head. In a ragged whisper, he said, “What am I doing?”
The man had blond hair, longer so it curled right at his shoulders, pushed back like he’d run his hands through it over and over. He had a thick beard, a couple shades darker, and his torso was covered in tattoos. How could she tell? Because the man wasn’t wearing a shirt. A bandage was slung across his body from ribs to shoulder, and at his shoulder, there was a big blood stain, but he wasn’t favoring the injury. It was definitely the man from last night, the one that had something familiar about him. She couldn’t put her finger on it. It was something in his profile when he looked out the window. Sharp cheek bones, and his eyes were slightly slanted upward, giving him a feline look even in his human form. He wore dark jeans that were ripped at one knee, and a gold chain wallet sat in his back pocket, the gold chain clinking against the chair when he moved.
He didn’t look so dangerous right now as he rested his chin on his clasped hands and stared out the window.
He looked…vulnerable.
She released the breath she was holding as slowly as she could, but the man snapped his attention to her. And the second they locked eyes, she was stunned into stillness again.
She knew him. Oh, God, she knew him. Those eyes. Those shocked, wide eyes. Blue like the ocean. They would turn goldish-green when he Changed. She’d only seen eyes like that once, in a blond little boy who had protected her on the playground when she was a cub.
“Emerald,” he murmured, unblinking.
“Ronin?”
He stood and strode toward her. Three banging steps from his boots, and he stopped. His face was unreadable as he stared at her. He gestured to her face. “What happened?”
Her head hurt so much to move, but she sat up, using the covers as a shield for her body. She dragged her fingertips to her throbbing cheek. “I’m not healing very fast,” she said, dropping her gaze in shame.
“That’ll happen when you’re stressed. Your lioness…she’s…”
“She’s what?”
“Shut down. I can’t even feel her.”
“Me either. It’s her move. She leaves easy.” Why did she feel like crying again? She forced the words past her tightening vocal chords. “I thought you were dead.”
“Ha.” He inhaled deeply and made his way to the wall, as far away from her as he could, and leaned against it. “The council tried. Damn-near succeeded too, but I had a hero.”
“Who?”
“Damon Daye. A couple of the council members took me into the woods to kill me, but he was there. He and a grizzly shifter named Beaston. The griz said Damon didn’t even need to kill the men wanting to slit my throat. Beaston said they had a worse fate coming, and he smiled. Leon was killed in that war against Beast last year. He lived bad, and died bad. He was killed running away, and he suffered, and when I found that out, I could just see Beaston’s smile in my head. That old wily grizzly didn’t have to kill Leon, didn’t have to carry that death on his soul. Karma got him. That night in these woods, all those years ago, he and Damon saved me and drove me straight from Tarian territory to a Clan of tiger shifters. They plucked me from death and set me on a totally different road. One that lead me here. Those tigers turned everything around for me.”
Emerald’s attention dipped to his stomach. It was a tattoo of a tiger and a snake fighting. “Is that why you got that one?”
The corner of Ronin’s mouth curved up into a wicked grin. “I would never get a lion.”
She couldn’t blame him.
“I’m glad…” She chickened out and cleared her throat. Just say it. “I’m glad you had heroes.”
He canted his head and studied her, a slight frown lowering his blond eyebrows. “What are you doing with Old Tarian?”
All of her heartbreak flooded her in an instant.
“I have to go back. I know where I am. I’ve seen this room before.”
“It’s my room.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s the Alpha’s room in the big house. I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”
“Where are you supposed to be?”
“I signed a contract—”
“Where, Emerald?” he gritted out.
“At the right hand of Cassius.”
“Ffffuck!” he yelled, turning away from her. “Who hit you?” he asked suddenly, fury turning his eyes that striking gold-green color.
She shook her head, trying not to think about yesterday.
“Who?” he asked louder.
She lifted her chin and forced herself to look him in the eyes. “Cassius has my father.”
“What?” he asked, moving for her. He sat on the edge of the bed. “What do you mean?”
“I’m contracted to be Cassius’s mate so he’ll release my father.”
Ronin’s face twisted into something animal before he ripped his gaze away from her and gave her his back. There was a knock on the door. “Yes?” Ronin asked in a low, steady voice.
“Meeting, Alpha.”
Ronin sighed. “Bring me Rose.”
“Yes, Alpha.” The echoing sound of footsteps followed his retreat.
Ronin shook his head, his shoulders tense.
“You’re alive and you’re Alpha of the Tarian Pride now. I never saw that coming.”
“Not the Tarian Pride.” He looked to the side, giving her his profile. “The New Tarian Pride.”
He was so handsome in the early morning light that filtered through the window. There was a big sunray hitting him, dust motes swirling in the air in front of his face, his crystal blue eyes emotionless, his jaw set grimly. He’d grown into a man. A powerful, terrifying man, but…
“Why did you bring me here?”
Ronin stood suddenly. “Pass.”
“Pass?”
“On your questions.” Changing the subject, he asked, “Your father is there? I remember him. Talon Lawson. Cassius is holding him?”
“Yes. I was headed to try and see him last night when I saw you…fighting…”
“That shifter is dead. I killed him.” He arched his eyebrows. “You should know what I’ll do for my people. Ask me if I lost any sleep over his death.”
She didn’t have to. The dead expression in his eyes told her enough. He walked to the door and then, hand on the knob, he said, “Your father.”
Softly and sadly, she explained, “They took him a week ago. Cassius wants my genetics. My ancestor was one of the founders of the Tarian Pride. They’re trying to bring back the founders’ bloodlines. I was picked up yesterday. The contract is signed, and I have to go. Today is my pairing day. If I don’t show up, they’ll kill him. But if I play by their rules, they’ll let him go.”
Ronin slid her a narrow-eyed glance, his lip snarled up. “Fuck their rules.”
And then he walked out the door and let it click closed behind him.
The small noise seemed to echo on and on.
She felt like she was in a dream. Slowly, she stood and padded barefoot to a small sink with a mirror over it. It was one of those old-fashioned white porcelain bowls set on a rustic wooden chest. There was a rusted water spout that she had to pump water from, and the mirror was the same she remembered from all those years ago. In fact, nothing in this room had been changed except the bedding, which was a dark brown now instead of navy blue. The sheets had smelled like Ronin, minus all the blood. What had happened to his shoulder? Had he been stabbed? Shot? That wouldn’t surprise her. Tarians wouldn’t have any problem using weapons. No honor.
She stared at a reflection she didn’t recognize. It was shocking. Not just the bruising and the swelling, the cut lip or the pale skin… She was stunned by how hollow and sad her eyes looked. Gritting her teeth against another wave of grief, she pumped the water handle a few times until the bowl was half full, and then she washed her face. She didn’t have her suitcase, so no make-up, but whatever. She didn’t have to impress anyone. She wouldn’t be here long.
Ronin looked really good. There was something about him that drew her and made her feel safe when she had no right at all to feel that way. Her life had been uprooted, she’d been hurt, and her future was bleak. But for the few minutes when she was talking to him, she’d felt like everything was okay. Or maybe he’d just been a beautiful distraction.