“It would seem, then, both Jonas and I have a particular grudge against our father,” he finally said softly before turning and spearing him with a sharp, fierce look. “Take that as a lesson, my friend. Don’t wait for your mate to declare her love. Don’t wait for her to realize her love. Give of yourself first if you must. Perhaps when you do so, she’ll realize what she’s refusing to allow herself to see for fear of losing once again that which sustains her.”
Rule narrowed his eyes back at the hybrid as Dane turned and moved away from him, heading back to the bank of elevators, his shoulders not as straight, his head not thrown back as arrogantly as normal.
He knew Dane had feelings for Jonas’s sister Harmony, just as he knew damned good and well Harmony’s love for her mate, Lance Jacobs, was absolute. A mate she had been given a chance to find through Dane’s and Jonas’s machinations, separately, though no less effectively.
He almost smiled.
He could smell the true affection and sense of loss and regret Dane felt, but the love . . . no, it wasn’t love. It had been close. Perhaps the closest Dane had ever come, or ever would come. The man jumped across continents like other men traveled across town. The chances of finding his mate, or of finding love, wasn’t going to be high.
Rule had a feeling when and if it happened, though, Dane would be thanking his father for whatever hand he’d had in taking Harmony from his son’s life rather than resenting it.
Straightening as the Dragoon shot in beneath the hotel awning, Rule strode quickly to the doors, Dane’s comment running through his mind.
Let her know how he felt. Let her feel it, he thought. Maybe, just maybe, she’d realize she didn’t have to hide her tender heart from him. Nor her fears.
He had her back, and he was about to prove it.
Dane wasn’t the only one to whom Gideon owed a favor or two.
...
The heavy iron door slammed closed with enough force that the cavern itself seemed to shudder from the impact.
A roar ripped through the underground space, sinking into stone before echoing back, only to be followed by another.
A glass beaker shattered against the doors, spilling a dark liquid that instantly turned to mist and filled the area with a hint of sandalwood and a male genetic scent that would have fooled any Breed living but the one who had made it.
“Motherfuckers.” The roar was nearly incoherent as the animal lent its voice to the explicit curse.
Another beaker shattered, this time, the scent evocative of desert nights with a hint of a rose. Poison should smell sweet, he’d always claimed.
His head tipped back, his lips curled back from his teeth, and this time the roar all but shook the rafters and might have actually caused dust to rain down from the cavern’s roof.
“Oh really, Graeme, what the hell did you think would happen?” Khileen propped her hands on her hips and watched the primal Bengal with a healthy dose of amused wariness. “Did you really believe you had us fooled? That we weren’t very well aware of exactly where the Bengal Gideon was hiding?”
Propped against the curve of the far entrance, she tilted her head and let a smile curl at her lips when he swung around to her, his head lowering, his amber eyes morphing to the most incredible green color.
It really was too bad she couldn’t stand another man’s touch, she thought regretfully, because Gideon was no doubt hell in bed. He was simply too much male, too much animal, not to be.
“Leave.” The order was ground out with the hoarse snarl that only an animal could have made.
She crossed her arms over her br**sts and narrowed her gaze back at him. “No. We simply have to discuss this. Because I know what you’re going to do . . .” She gasped as she suddenly found herself face-to-face with the primal stripes and glittering, bloodthirsty gaze of a Bengal tiger staring back at her from the man’s face.
“Now.” The rumbled, deep-throated growl almost had her obeying.
“The show is quite impressive,” she promised him with an air of boredom. “But if I leave, then you’ll just pack up and disappear, and I can’t allow you to do so. It’s simply not in your best interests, nor is it in mine. So pull back that very savage, very impressive creature you’re trying to set free and let’s discuss this, shall we?”
Astonishment glittered in his eyes as they widened. A second later his hands shot up, clawed fingers raking through his hair as a truly horrid-sounding growling snarl erupted from his parted lips as he turned away from her.
She grimaced at the sight and sound of it. “Lobo does that rather often, you know. Is it just me?”
Tiberian had once done so as well, when he had been there. Before her life had gone to hell in a handbasket and he’d begun chasing the bitch who had destroyed them all.
“You are certifiable,” he snapped, turning back to her. “No wonder Tiberian left. He’s likely running for his life.”
“No doubt.” She nodded slowly, silently agreeing with him.
No doubt that was exactly what Tiberian was doing, in a way.