The Leopard King

  Dom was so pale that she feared he might pass out. For a long, agonizing moment, he said nothing. Then, “Can you show me when that file was created?”

  “I copied it from Iolas’s phone, so it says today. For obvious reasons, I couldn’t risk being caught with his property. You will have to take my word that in his directory, it was dated the morning of your first wife’s death.”

  First wife. That makes me second. Funny how the Noxblade twisted the knife, even when he was trying to be delicate. Apparently they just had that sort of bad, bloody fate between them.

  “I have to ask, did you dump Iolas with me on purpose?”

  Gavriel chuckled with every evidence of delight. “That was just fate being whimsical and kind. The baths were the obvious place to dispose of him, and you happened to be there. I couldn’t have planned it better.”

  Asshole.

  “Did anyone see you move the body? What about our cameras?” Dom cut in, impatient.

  Gavriel sighed and curled his lip. “Do you think this was my first sanitation?”

  She’d just been curious if he meant her to find the victim, but if he said it was a coincidence, there was no reason to mistrust him, not that it mattered anymore.

  Lacing his fingers together, Dom studied the assassin so intently that Pru would’ve fidgeted. “You told my mate you didn’t know of her arrival, but I came across some footage that made me think you were surveilling her. Explain.”

  The Noxblade lifted a shoulder with careless disinterest. “I have no way to prove it wasn’t me, but things would’ve gone better if I had been. This is the only truth I can offer—someone else was watching her.”

  A chill prickled her nape, creeping over her shoulders to her lower back, where the ice settled. “But we don’t know who?”

  With her eyes, she asked Dom why he never mentioned this. He only shook his head, and she gathered from his expression that he hadn’t wanted to worry her. Pru filed that away under questions that needed answering; she had a bunch of those, including one about the conversation they’d just heard.

  “Why would Iolas keep that recording?” she wondered aloud.

  Gavriel glared like the answer should be obvious. Maybe, if it hadn’t been such a long, dreadful day, she could’ve come up with a clever theory, or even the correct one. But her head ached, full of the dead Eldritch’s face floating past her and the excruciating snapshot of Dom weeping before her best friend’s memorial.

  “Leverage.” Dom’s voice came out harsh and raw. “In case he needed it against his uncle. Or if we ever tracked him down, he could claim he was only following orders.”

  “The worst crimes are often committed by those ‘following orders’,” Gavriel snapped.

  “It appears I’m in your debt,” Dom said. “Today you answered the question that has been tormenting me for the last three years and you dispatched the murderer.”

  Pru tilted her head, thoughtful. “This doesn’t tell us what Talfayen is planning with the Golgoth, but it does bear out your report of collusion.”

  The Noxblade nodded. “I’m glad you’ve surmised as much. I was hoping to uncover some correspondence or hint of their intentions, but…” He shrugged.

  “Talfayen hasn’t come this far without being careful.” If she didn’t know Dom so well, she would miss the way the fingers of his left hand dug into the arm of the chair, nearly rending the fabric. “What is it that you want from me? I’ll cooperate.”

  “Make a show of investigating. Invent leads if you have to. I just need more time. If I can find a hint of their plan, we can stop it and I can send word to…” Gavriel hesitated and then appeared to come to some conclusion. “My lady, Princess Thalia.”

  That shocked Pru more than anything he’d said so far. She couldn’t help but whisper the question. “Talfayen’s daughter?”

  “And Iolas’s cousin. Her father keeps her imprisoned on their estate, but she is not without resources.” Unmistakable pride colored Gavriel’s voice. “I am not the only Noxblade sworn to her service. We act as her agents until such time we can free her and take the crown.”

  “So you want me to stall,” Dom concluded.

  “With every gram of your skill. I realize I’m asking a great deal since you must want to tear out Talfayen’s throat and have done with all this.”

  When Dom smiled, all empty eyes and chilling menace, Pru’s blood iced over. “It’s a viable solution. He can’t do shit bleeding out on my floor.”

  Gavriel seemed ready to kneel, out of keeping with his usual attitude. “You’ve acknowledged there is a debt between us. To repay me, you must aid the Eldritch. We need to root out those loyal to Talfayen, or my lady’s regime will never be secure. I’m sure she will be generous in her gratitude.”

  “Plus, they’re still plotting to kill you,” Pru added.

  “Fine. In the morning, I’ll spin all our wheels pretending to hunt you down. It’ll be a great show. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get to bed.”

  “Of course.” Gavriel executed a formal bow, somehow managing to make it clear that courtesy was for Dom alone.

  Pru didn’t bother to see him out.

  Red-hot rage choked Dom until he could hardly breathe.

  Now I know who held the knife, and the bastard who ordered it done has been eating my food for how long? He flattened his palms on the cool wood of the door, struggling to get a handle on the rising fury. Biding his time seemed impossible. He needed to shift. The roaring in his head demanded that he find Talfayen, drag him out of his warm bed, and—

  “Dom.” Pru called him back from the brink like that was her prime directive.

  He took a long breath, let it out. Another. “How am I supposed to do nothing? Pretend it’s all the same when everything has changed?”

  “It’s for the pride,” she said.

  That was always her answer. Didn’t she ever get tired of setting aside her own wants and desires? But before he could ask, she went on, “If it falls apart too soon, we go to war. Right now, there’s a chance we can resolve it peacefully. If that happens, we save a lot of lives and you get justice for Dalena.”

  “I want to kill Talfayen with my bare hands.”

  “That’s murder, and without sufficient proof of his misdeeds, it draws down the wrath of all Eldritch. They come after Ash Valley, and maybe the other Animari in retaliation. In conjunction with the Golgoth, that could mean the end of everything we are. I know you won’t choose that path.”

  “Why do you have to be so fucking sensible? You won’t let me rage or bleed.” He hauled his arm back to punch the wall.

  Pru caught it, and she was strong enough to twist it behind his back. “That’s wrong. You can rage. Not bleed. Let’s take this conversation to the bedroom.”

  “I’m not in the mood.” He shouldn’t be snarling at her. Damn, he knew that. In fact, he should be on his knees begging her forgiveness.

  “My dad will probably be in soon. Do you want him seeing you like this? Would you care to explain what it’s about?”

  That penetrated his fury fog, so he let her lead him into the room they shared. Her timing was uncanny because only a couple of minutes after she squirted toothpaste on her brush, he heard the click of the door. Pru flashed him a look that conveyed I told you so pretty clearly.

  With a breath that was more of a soft groan, he sank to the floor beside the bed. “It doesn’t help. I thought finding out who did it would change something. But it doesn’t. She’s still gone, and I’m still the asshole who didn’t save her.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  Dom closed his eyes. “Bullshit. I don’t even know what I was doing that day, and if I’d come home ten minutes earlier or called to check in—”

  “You had no reason to suspect she wasn’t safe,” Pru cut in. “So stop blaming yourself. If I’d knocked off work early or invited her to lunch, she wouldn’t have been home. Iolas would’ve missed his window. But then, maybe he’d have tried again. When someon
e is determined to do an awful thing, the timing doesn’t matter, only their intent to do wrong.”

  Her logic was insidious, permeating his wild thoughts like soothing smoke. Everything she said sounded true, but it didn’t touch the pain excavating his gut. Dom buried his face in the covers dangling over the side of the bed. The fabric felt cool and comforting on his skin, and he couldn’t stand for Pru to watch him fall apart. It seemed like she hadn’t seen anything good from him in years.

  Warmth startled him.

  He’d expected to hear the sounds of her completing her nightly rituals and then the soft creak of her getting into bed. Instead, she seemed to be leaning against his side. Dom couldn’t make heads or tails of her behavior; she should be exhausted, furious, or both. Yet when she touched him, the hurricane in his head receded. She rubbed his shoulders and back with perfect pressure, digging deep enough to ease the fiercest knots.

  “Please don’t be good to me,” he whispered.

  But he didn’t have the fortitude to stop her. That became evident when she wrapped herself around him, and he turned into her arms with a shudder rooted in requirement and relief. In his entire life, he’d never cried so hard; the effort to keep quiet nearly strangled him. Can’t let her dad hear. Pru held him and whispered nonsense until the shaking stopped. Her body felt incredibly soft, and the curve of her neck tasted of salt from his tears. As he nuzzled her throat, his cock sprang awake. In the wake of the emotional storm, he had the furious urge to fuck, but when he lifted his lips to hers, she only gave him a soft peck.

  “Not tonight. It’ll make you feel better for a while, but I don’t want us to get sucked into a loop, where you use sex to forget and then when the endorphins drop, you feel worse again.”

  “A sex loop, huh?”

  “Let’s go to bed,” she said.

  “Are you sure this has nothing to do what happened this morning?”

  Her eyes dropped, so he lifted her chin to search her gaze with his.

  “No. And it’s not that I don’t want you. But it would be awful if you started feeling guilty… about us.”

  Without meaning to, he flinched and pulled his hand back. “That’s pretty—”

  “On the mark? Everything happened so fast. It’s natural that you need some time to adjust and process what we learned today.”

  “I wish you’d just yell at me and call me an asshole,” he said softly.

  “But you’re not. You’re pretty fantastic, and I’m lucky—”

  “No,” he cut in. “That’s me. I’m so sorry, Pru. You’re all the sweetness in the world, and this morning, I had no idea you were around.”

  Dom didn’t miss the way her hand curled up on her knee, as if to battle a bad memory. Yet she still excused him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was just bad timing, that’s all.”

  “If you say so.” While he didn’t feel good about leaving it there, he’d apologized. If she wanted to sidestep the issue and move on, how could he argue? “Well, then. Am I allowed a good-night kiss?”

  She smiled. “If you want one.”

  “Always.”

  The ache in his chest lessened as Pru offered her mouth. Since he understood this wasn’t going anywhere tonight, he took his time, teasing her lips with his. He spent forever nibbling her lower lip, licking the upper, until she made a sweet sound in her throat and tried to take his tongue. Instant heat blossomed, but he tamped it down in favor of kissing her more, deeper, sweeter, until she trembled in his arms and her breath came in delicious puffs. When he finally pulled back, she grabbed his head and pulled him back in. Eventually, he realized he had Pru flat on her back beneath him, and his cock was so hard it hurt. She didn’t help matters by rubbing against him as if she’d forgotten her sexual proscription. A groan escaped him.

  “You said no sex. Not no orgasms.” While he respected her reasons for drawing a line, their hormones wouldn’t simply evaporate.

  “I like the way you think.”

  “I’m offering for your sake. Who knew you’d get so turned on from a little kissing?”

  Her smug look sent a clear danger signal. “Who says I plan to stay frustrated? I know my body. I can take care of it.”

  “What?” She couldn’t mean what he suspected.

  When she slipped a hand into her panties, Dom couldn’t look away. The soft, slick sound of her stroking herself stole every word from his head. Pru kept her eyes fixed on him as she did it; a sexy flush started at her shoulders, worked up her neck, and into her cheeks. As she rubbed, her lips parted, breath coming faster.

  “Feels good,” she whispered. “Want to see more?”

  Wordless, he nodded.

  She paused long enough to slip out of her panties and settle on the edge of the bed, above him. That move left him feeling like a worshipper at the feet of a goddess. The irresistible smell of her sex went straight to his head. Dom didn’t realize he was squeezing his cock through his pants until he caught her gaze on his fingers. He should probably stop, but it was impossible. To stifle a groan, he bit down hard on his lower lip.

  A few seconds later, when she came, he did too.

  17.

  In the wake of an intense orgasm, Pru jerked with the aftershocks.

  She expected Dom to withdraw. Most likely, they shouldn’t have done this much. He needed time to accept his new reality, and this probably just muddied the waters. But instead of locking down emotionally, he seemed shy and shaken, more than a little off balance. Then he went up on his knees and wrapped his arms about her waist, burying his face in her belly.

  The position should have felt all kinds of strange and awkward, but it didn’t. Of their own volition, her fingers sifted through his hair as he shivered beneath her hands. Moments like these gave her this awful, blighted hope that maybe someday, he could be a little bit… hers. Not borrowed, not stolen. But Pru couldn’t even imagine what that would look like.

  With all her heart, she wished she could reassure him, yet in all likelihood, tomorrow would be worse, as Dom would have a hell of a time keeping his cool the first time he saw Talfayen. The Eldritch traitor would be lucky if Dom didn’t rip his throat out, no matter how many logical arguments she presented. There was a savage side to her that would rejoice in that because with one flick of his blade, Iolas had stolen her best friend.

  Forever. On Talfayen’s orders.

  Dom cleared his throat a couple of times before he finally got some words out. “We should shower.”

  “Together?” Surprise flared up; this was the first time he’d suggested that.

  “Unless you don’t want to.”

  “It’s more efficient,” she said. “And we’ll be done faster, but it’ll be a tight squeeze.”

  “I’m good with that.”

  He got up with a minor grimace, she assumed because of the mess in his briefs, and went to start the hot water. She joined him a moment later, which gave him time to strip down and get in the stall. There was barely enough room for her to step in and shut the door, so for a few seconds, they wriggled, figuring out the best way to stand. The mood turned sensual when he spun her so he could wash her back. This wasn’t about sex; she recognized the intimacy of his touch and his silent, unacknowledged need to take care of her. So she leaned forward and gave herself into his hands—and they went everywhere. With each swipe of the sponge, he apologized more profusely than he ever could in words. Afterward, she lathered him the same way, rinsed, and her heart didn’t ache as much by the time he shut the water off.

  His hands were clumsy as he dried her, and Dom offered a crooked smile. “Sorry. I’m just so fucking tired.”

  “Me too. Bed?”

  “Not yet.”

  With gentle hands, he pressed her to the edge the mattress and got her brush from the dresser. Long, soothing strokes coaxed the tangles from her wet hair. She’d never even dreamed that she’d be lucky enough to have a mate who cared this much. Imagine how it would be if he loved me. Pru flinched away mentally from t
he question.

  “That’s good,” she said softly.

  In answer, he crawled under the covers naked, and it seemed wrong to get her pajamas, like if she did, she was the one putting barriers between them. Dom snuggled into her at once, but even as he did, she couldn’t rid herself of the truth that she was—and always would be—a poor substitute. At last exhaustion dragged her under, freeing her from such dark thoughts.

  When she roused, it was barely pushing daylight, and he was still sound asleep. It didn’t take much to extricate herself from his loose hold; in fact, he curled up around her pillow as she slid from the bed. Pru got dressed quickly, trying to outrun the implications, and then hurried from the room with a quiet snick of the door.

  She found her dad nursing coffee, despite the fact that he’d come in late. His tired face told her he still found it tough to sleep, though it had been a year since her mother passed. Pru accepted the mug he slid her, and she gulped half of it, reaching for normalcy. I can’t fall into Dom like this. He’s my mate, not a black hole.

  “Heard about what happened yesterday. You all right?” That was her dad, gruff and laconic, even with serious issues.

  “It was pretty awful. And now that we’re in lockdown, things will only get worse.”

  “They wouldn’t let me out to prowl last night,” he complained.

  “So that’s why you came home.”

  He skirted that with an invitation. “You want to go for a run?”

  “Right now?” Actually, it didn’t sound bad.

  There was a track through the park, where the wind might blow away doubts and mental cobwebs alike. Since her father rarely asked for anything, she guessed he must really be feeling the sting of being cooped up. And it’s only been a few hours. What will the pride be like when it’s been days? For a while, they might enjoy the break from patrols and recon, but sooner or later, tensions would rise—

  And I’m not worrying about it right now.

  Since her ability to fret was practically a superpower, she slammed a mental gate in front of all the ways this situation could go horribly wrong. Then she downed the rest of her coffee. “Let’s go.”