“I need to know if you’re a member of this lair,” Drake snapped, his voice like a whip. “Where do your loyalties lie? Answer now, Robert.”
Robert blinked rapidly. Remy felt Bijou’s fist twist in the back of his shirt. He laid his palm lightly against her thigh. She was trembling. He wanted to reassure her, but right now, he was Drake’s second and protector—not that Drake needed one—but that was the way of the lair.
“With the lair,” Robert mumbled. “I was drunk, Drake. I would never challenge for leadership. Never. My leopard was in a frenzy because there was a female . . .”
“Do not place blame with your leopard. It’s my job to know every leopard in this lair, their strength and weaknesses and their abilities. Your leopard isn’t difficult to handle. Remy’s is a fighter, continually looking for supremacy, and he always keeps his leopard under control—as I do mine. If you exhibited just a little control yourself and a little bit of discipline, you would never have a problem. You’re to blame. You’re responsible for the behavior of your cat at all times.”
“It was her.” Robert pointed a finger at Bijou. “Her leopard led mine on.”
A growl rumbled deep in Remy’s chest. He bared his teeth at Robert, but he remained absolutely still. Drake was the leader, and he was following the plan they’d devised. Robert had to state his loyalty so there was no safely going back.
“So you’re telling me you’re incapable of controlling your leopard, no matter the circumstances.”
Drake’s voice had gone very quiet, quiet enough to send a chill down Remy’s spine. If that tone had sent a message to him, he couldn’t imagine what Robert was feeling. It was a question no shifter wanted to be asked. If he couldn’t control his leopard, it was a virtual death sentence. No shifter could be around humans if his leopard, with its intense mood swings and violent outbursts, ruled.
Robert shook his head. “No. No. I control my leopard. The circumstances . . .”
“Don’t matter,” Drake interrupted. “Either you’re in control at all times or you’re not. Which is it?”
“I’m in control,” Robert admitted hastily. He was trapped and he knew it. He was facing life or death and there was no getting out of it.
“You were drunk and you allowed your leopard loose when you weren’t one hundred percent,” Drake accused. “You’re totally responsible, not Bijou, not Remy and certainly not your leopard. You challenged me and you went after a claimed female. Whether or not she’d mated with her chosen one, she was off limits and should have been under your protection.”
Robert said nothing, holding himself stiff in his chair, clearly terrified as Drake laid out the charges against him.
“Last night at the club, a female leopard of our lair was threatened and every member present with the exception of you leapt to protect her. One of our most sacred laws is to protect our females and our children. I’m waiting for an explanation.” Drake’s voice was lower than ever, and that made him sound all the more lethal.
Robert opened and closed his mouth several times, looking like a fish gasping for air. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “I was with my friends—”
“To clarify,” Drake interrupted, “these are the friends that were harassing one of our women.”
“I didn’t know she was one of ours,” Robert lied.
The room shook with the force of Drake’s roar. He leapt forward and struck Robert’s face, openhanded, but his hand was a large claw and the razor-sharp tips ripped Robert’s cheek open, leaving four distinct rake marks with blood welling up.
Robert howled and cowered back in his seat. Bijou hid her face against Remy’s back. He could feel her trembling more than ever. Bijou had steeled herself to remain in the room and learn as much as she could about leopard law. He had to hand it to her, she had courage.
Saria gently put her hand on Bijou’s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie as well as to try to tell her to trust in Drake. He glanced at Saria, grateful for the way she read Bijou’s feelings. Drake was scaring the crap out of Robert on purpose. Remy had no doubt that if Robert told any more lies, the retaliation would be swift and painful—that was their law.
Bijou had no brothers. She hadn’t grown up in the environment Saria had. She knew about neglect and debauchery. She knew what alcohol and drugs