Captive Princess: A Dark Paranormal Romance (Feline Royals Book 2) Page 5

I opened my eyes to find him studying me with a quiet calm, his eyes full of the realness of himself. It was as if I could see into his soul, without any of the blankness that Gabor affected or the bravado of Lord Balam.

  I touched Shadow’s cheek, so smooth and soft under my fingertips. “You’ve never kissed me before,” I whispered.

  “Do you want me to kiss you now?” he asked, his breath warm on my cheek, his green eyes unguarded.

  In all the madness and lust of his first night with me, he’d tasted nearly every inch of me, but not my mouth. Today had been more of the same. Frantic fucking. I didn’t know this side of him, quiet and watchful, still.

  I leaned in, letting my lips brush his soft, warm mouth. Shadow’s eyes fell closed, his long lashes curling against his smooth skin, and he moved in slowly. His lips pressed gently to mine, and his fingers tightened on my hip just enough for me to feel the pressure of his body against mine. A tingle shimmered down my body, raising goosebumps along my arms. I sighed, melting into him, awed by the incredible sensation of this soft kiss from a savage man.

  When he pulled away, my heart was hammering.

  “Goodnight,” he whispered, pressing his lips to my forehead again. “We’ll take care of your shoulder in the morning.”

  I nodded against his neck, nuzzling against him and inhaling his scent, so different from Lord Balam’s. Shadow smelled wet and fresh, like rain falling in the jungle. I burrowed into his arms, tightening my embrace and flattening my palm against his smooth, soft skin. He rubbed slow, soothing circles on my back until every muscle in my body relaxed. I was halfway asleep when the question slipped into my mind.

  “Shadow?” I whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “How old are you?”

  He hesitated a long moment before answering. “I’m eighteen.”

  Eighteen. He was my age, not Lord Balam’s or even Gabor’s. I hadn’t thought about it before. He’d looked so dirty and wild that I hadn’t really looked closer at the man under all that crazy. He was barely more than a kid, figuring things out like Camila and me. He’d killed for me, lost his home for me, lost his clan for me. For what he thought was right.

  And I’d told him I didn’t want to know him.

  It wasn’t true, though. I did want to know him. I just didn’t know if I could carry that weight along with my own. I thought I should, though. I should just open my mouth and tell him to spill it all. I would be his family and his clan. But before I could, the soft stroke of his fingers pushed me beneath the surface of sleep.

  Nine

  I woke once when they stopped to refuel the plane, but my mind was a blur of pain. I took a sleeping pill from Camila’s stash and passed out again. The next time I woke, it was to the jarring sensation of the plane bouncing along the ground. I sat up, gasping at the pain ripping through me. Grabbing my shoulder, I swayed to stay upright. I was pretty sure my arm was going to fall off. It would have been a welcome relief from the agony. With every jolt of the plane hitting another bump, my arm throbbed with blinding pain. The noise of the engine, wheels, and brakes drowned out anything else in the plane.

  It took me a minute to see that Camila was gone from beside me. I jumped up, staggering as my head swam. Shadow watched me intently from the chair on the other side of the plane. I stumbled toward the bathroom, the door of which hung at an awkward angle. It seemed like weeks ago that Lord Balam had fucked me up against it, tearing the latch in the process.

  “Camila?” I called when I heard water running.

  She stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a lavender pantsuit and a string of pearls that matched her dainty gloves and hat. Her face was freshly made up, the clean scent of toothpaste following her out. She could not have looked more different than the yowling wildcat who had torn through the cabin and killed the pilot.

  “You’re okay,” I said, slumping in relief.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, as if nothing had happened. “You should get cleaned up. The Cheetah Nation is very refined.”

  “I’ll try,” I said, a wave of dizziness making me sway on my feet.

  “No offense, but you stink,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “She needs a doctor,” Lord Balam said, appearing beside me and sliding an arm around my waist. “She’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “Didn’t stop you from enjoying yourself on the flight,” Camila said with a look of distaste.

  I didn’t know how she could possibly know that, and I should’ve been embarrassed, but I didn’t feel up to it. A shiver wracked my body as we made our way to the door of the plane. We stepped out into the bright sunshine of a dusty, windswept tarmac. I wobbled my way down the ladder to the ground, which seemed to shimmer and sway under my feet.

  “Welcome to Botswana,” Lord Balam said, slipping an arm around me again. The evening was hot and dry, and I saw only a few trees and small buildings around the tin hangar we’d landed beside.

  Camilla descended the ladder in her mincing steps, clutching the railing with her white-gloved hand. Shadow came behind her, naked as the day he was born. Lord Balam couldn’t fit in any of Camilla’s clothes, but he’d tied a couple T-shirts together around his waist to cover himself. Shadow apparently didn’t know that was required.

  Even though he was the same man, I saw him differently after our kiss and learning he was only my age. He wasn’t so scary anymore. He was just a messed up guy who hadn’t had the easy life I had. For all I knew, he’d never been required to wear clothes. Maybe he’d grown up alone in the swamp.

  Gabor appeared at the top of the ladder, and something inside me calmed at the sight of him looking almost as put-together as Camila. In his black pilot uniform, complete with black tie and white shirt, wearing aviator glasses and carrying Camilla’s bag in one hand, you wouldn’t know he’d fought a battle nearly to the death the day before. You wouldn’t know he’d lost all his guard companions, or that he’d lain on the floor for hours healing from his injuries. That he’d had to drag the princess from under a truck and inject her with tranquillizer while she screamed and ripped into his hand with her teeth. The only thing less than flawless about his appearance was the two inches of black socks showing below the too-short trousers that belonged to our dead pilot.

  I must have been delirious with pain and shock to think he’d wanted me to kiss him the night before. In the harsh light of the afternoon sun, it couldn’t have been clearer that he belonged with the princess—the real princess. Not the one with the stinking shoulder, matted hair, and too-tight clothes.

  Camila snapped her fingers at him and held out her arm, and he moved to slip his hand into her elbow, escorting her toward the hangar.

  Before we reached it, four desert camo patterned jeeps roared around the building, surrounding us in a cloud of dust. Lord Balam’s hand tightened on my arm as four men with semi-automatic rifles dropped out of the jeeps and barked at us in a language I didn’t understand. They were all wearing desert camouflage and mirrored sunglasses that hid their eyes.

  “What are you doing flying into the Cheetah Nation’s airfield?” the tallest of the men demanded. He had coppery, light brown skin and wore a hat pulled low on his forehead.

  “We’re here on official business from King Ocelot of the Ocelot Nation,” Lord Balam said. “We’re here to see Sir Kenosi of the Cheetah Nation.”

  I gave Balam a sideways scowl. Sir Kenosi was one of the most famous shifters in the world, a man who had probably invented the term “kitty chaser” because of all the fangirls who swooned over his good looks and Forbes-level wealth. We might as well have waltzed into Hollywood and asked to be taken to Zac Efron.

  “Hands where I can see them,” barked the man. “All of you.”

  We all held up our hands.

  “Didn’t they know we were coming?” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth toward Camila, whose hands were visibly trembling.

  “Father contacted King Cheetah,”
she said, her voice quavering. “What is your boyfriend doing? He’s going to get us killed.”

  “Shut up,” the tall man said, shoving the muzzle of his gun into Camila’s face.

  Quick as lightning, Gabor grabbed the muzzle and jerked it down to point at the ground at Camila’s feet. The other three men swung their guns to point at Gabor, shouting at him in a foreign tongue. Camila screamed and dove behind me, gripping my shoulders and cowering against my back. Pain rocked through me, and my eyes swam with blackness as her fingers squeezed my injured shoulder.

  The man who had held his gun on Camila ripped the rifle away from Gabor’s grip and smacked the side of Gabor’s face with the muzzle. Gabor’s sunglasses flew off, skittering across the pavement. If the guards thought seeing Gabor’s eyes would help them read him better, they were in for a big disappointment.

  Gabor didn’t react, just held his hands behind his head and stared straight at the men. The men who were all focusing on him now, not on Camila, who was sobbing and whimpering behind me. Fucking Gabor. Of course he’d want to take their attention off the heir.

  The tall man slammed the butt of his gun into Gabor’s middle. Gabor bent double, and the man clubbed the back of his head. He fell to his knees, bowing his head to spit blood on the pavement.

  “Stop,” I said, stepping forward and holding out my hands. “He’s just a guard. If you’re after anyone, it’s me. I’m the princess. Take me.”

  The man stopped beating Gabor and looked me over, his nostrils flaring.

  “You’re infected,” he said. “What have you brought here from your country?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “I got bit by a panther. I need medical attention, not for you to beat my guard. We’re unarmed, and we were told we were welcome at the Cheetah Court.”

  His full lips curled into a cruel sneer. “The Cheetah Court doesn’t have time for you,” he said. “The king is very busy.”

  “That’s why I asked for Sir Kenosi,” Lord Balam said.

  “Shut up,” the man said. “Get the in the car. All of you. I’ll take the princess.”

  “No fucking way,” Shadow said, dropping into that stance with his knuckles on the ground. Fur rippled along his arms. I didn’t even see the other man move, but a second later, Shadow was sprawled flat on the ground, and one of the soldiers was standing over him. I lurched toward him, but the tall guy grabbed me around the waist and pushed me into the back seat of the jeep.

  “Wait,” Camila said, running to me.

  I grabbed her face between my hands as the guy hopped in the front seat. “Go,” I whispered. “Stay with Gabor. He’ll keep you safe.”

  The jeep started forward, and I pushed Camila away. She stumbled back, and Gabor leapt forward to catch her. I stayed twisted around in my seat long enough to see Gabor get in the back of the second jeep with her. Sagging in relief, I finally let myself turn around.

  “Where are we going?” I demanded.

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” the guy said, moving the mirror so he could see me in the back seat. “I’m taking you where you need to go.”

  “You mean kidnapping me.”

  “I don’t know how much you pay attention to current events, Princess, but the Cheetah Nation doesn’t have quite the same relationship with humans as your fine country. This is all for your own safety.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Ooh, she’s got a mouth on her,” he said. “I like that in a princess.”

  I made a show of peering into the empty passenger seat. “Who are you talking to?”

  He was still mostly hidden by the giant sunglasses and camo hat, but I caught a flash of white teeth as he grinned before turning away from me. “Sit back and relax,” he said. “The Cheetah Nation welcomes all feline guests with great hospitality. First up, you better get to the clinic before your arm rots off.”

  “Thanks,” I grumbled, sitting back. If he was really taking me to get help, I wasn’t going to argue. If he wasn’t going to help me, I’d die from this infection anyway, so he might as well get it over with and shoot me first.

  “Consider it your first test,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You’re here for the amulet. That’s what your father said. We’re supposed to negotiate, the richest nation in the International Feline Council and the puny little Ocelot Kingdom. You didn’t think we’d just hand it over for nothing, did you?”

  “No,” I said, cradling my arm as the jeep took a sharp turn onto a busy, paved road. I glanced back to make sure the other three jeeps were still following and relaxed a little when I saw them close behind.

  “Consider this the beginning of negotiations,” the soldier said. “When you pass all the tests, you’ll be deemed worthy of carrying the Cheetah amulet to your mating ceremony.”

  His words sank in, and I realized he thought I was the ocelot heir. I didn’t correct him. I was the one who had to pass the test, anyway—not Camila. I tried to stay awake as we swerved in and out of traffic, moving into a sprawling city with towering skyscrapers with glass faces, twisting and elegant instead of simply jutting into the sky. Though it was nothing like the Ocelot Kingdom, it comforted me to be in such a public area. Somehow, surrounded by so many people, I felt safer. They weren’t dragging us out to the desert to execute us and dump our bodies.

  By the time the jeep pulled into a garage, evening had fallen. I stumbled from the car, grabbing the side to keep my balance. In a second, Lord Balam was beside me. I hadn’t even seen their jeep pull up. I clung to his arm, the world seeming to go in and out of focus.

  “You’re burning up,” he said, scooping me into his arms. “I’m getting you to the nearest clinic right now.”

  A minute later, we were inside a building. The soldiers directed us into an elevator, and a few minutes later, we emerged into a plush waiting room. Two women wearing nurse uniforms that looked suspiciously like Halloween costumes rushed to bring me a wheelchair.

  “Balam,” I said, clutching his neck. “They aren’t real nurses. Look at them.”

  “They look good to me,” he said with a grin, depositing me in the chair. Something wasn’t right, but I didn’t know what was happening. Why had Lord Balam asked for the richest feline in the world instead of the king? Why weren’t we in a palace? Why did the nurses have skirts so short I could almost see their asses and so much cleavage their nipples were about to pop out?

  “Come with me,” I said, reaching for Lord Balam’s hand. “Where’s Shadow?”

  “He was in the last jeep,” Balam said. “He got knocked out, but he’s fine.”

  “I’m afraid this is as far as he can go,” one of the nurses said, stopping at a door. “We don’t allow visitors in the operating room.”

  “Then I’m not going,” I said, lurching to get out of the chair. My head swam, and I sank back. “Okay, fine. I’m going.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Lord Balam said, bending to look into my eyes. He took my face between his hands and gave me a quick, firm kiss. “Go get fixed up. I’ll be right here when you get out.”

  “Promise?” I whispered, laying my cheek in his palm.

  “Promise.” He kissed me again, then stood back while the nurses wheeled me into the operating room.

  Ten

  Gabor

  Royal Guard, Ocelot Nation

  “Where is the princess?” I demanded, stopping in front of the elevator, where two cheetah guards stood at attention.

  “She is your charge, is she not?” one of the men asked.

  Irritation flickered inside me, but I knew better than to let it show. An Ocelot guard learned the dangers of showing his cards early—and harshly. Behind me, Shadow let out a low growl, and I began to see my mistake in letting him come along. But he had been unwavering in his insistence that he must see Her Grace.

  “I mean Princess Itzel, of course,” I said, gesturing at the elevator. “She’s in the clinic.”

  “Rest assured she’s well care
d for,” said the second cheetah guard, a woman with full lips and cold eyes. “Sir Kenosi himself let us know.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it,” I said. “We would only like to visit with her briefly.”

  “You don’t trust Sir Kenosi?” said the male guard. “He said she’s fine. So she’s fine.”

  “Bull. Shit.” Shadow’s words hissed out like a curse behind me.

  The female guard’s hand landed on the pistol on her hip.

  “We are not questioning your master’s word,” I assured them. “We simply wish to visit with our—”

  “Our mate,” Shadow said, stepping up beside me and straightening to his full height.

  “She’s your mate?” the male guard asked me, his eyes narrowing.

  “No,” I admitted. “She’s my princess.”

  A princess I had been watching for the past ten years with a protective instinct that had changed to something more even while knowing fully the futility of what I could not stop my heart from desiring.

  “She’s mine,” Shadow said. “I won’t be separated from her.”

  “Is that right?” the man asked, his hand reaching for his holster. Before he could make a move, before I could stop what I should have anticipated, Shadow has dropped to all fours and sprang at the man. It happens so fast, far faster than I’d ever seen anyone shift. One second, Shadow was beside me, and the next, he was flying through the air, which was filled with the sound of tearing cloth and scraps of Shadow’s clothes as they exploded from his body. He was in his full fur by the time he hit the man.

  The woman’s gun was out the next second, and she pointed it at my panther companion. And even though he was not an ocelot, and I had no loyalty to his nation, and I knew what he did to Itzel, I swing my fist without a moment’s consideration. If Itzel wanted him alive, I wanted him alive. I could never be anything more than a guard to the princess, but he could. I would save Shadow for her, if that’s what she wanted. And I knew that it was.

  The gun went off before I snapped the cheetah’s wrist. She snarled and started to shift, and I knew was fucked. No matter how much training an ocelot received, it was no match for a big cat shifter. Still, I wouldn’t die for nothing.