Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

ELIA

She felt the violation of it, the sheer injustice that, as a male, he was expected to take that kind of abuse without complaint.

A noise tore out of her throat and she shoved forward, heedless of the hands that gripped her arms, or the bodies trying to stand in her way. She called his name and fought, tooth and nail, scratching, shoving, kicking, to force the women back.

And Reth fought too. She could see his rigid shoulders, the veins popping in his neck, on his arms. He fought, but with concern not to harm those that were harming him. He fought for his own freedom, but not at the cost of the women who were hurting him.

Well, fuck that, Elia thought, and threw herself into the fray.

She pulled hair, she scratched, she took more than one elbow to the ribs, and gave a couple of her own until finally there was only one woman between she and Reth.

Two women either side of him fought to keep hold of his arms so the woman in the front could kiss and lick at his chest, and neck. He roared, and something in Elia snapped.

She grabbed the woman by the hair and threw her to the ground, putting herself between the woman and Reth. "Keep your hands off my mate!" she screamed in a voice she didn't recognize.

Many of those watching stepped back. The two women who held Reth's arms went wide-eyed as Elia turned on them. "Let. Him. Go."

The woman on the left dropped his arm immediately, bowing to her, but the woman on her right bared her teeth and hissed a curse.

Elia sucked in a breath—and more smoke with it—and turned to Reth. "Do you want her?" she yelled over the rushing in her own ears.

"No!" Reth roared back. Elia's heart leapt, but she turned back to the woman—who was almost a foot taller, and clearly stronger.

Then she remembered what Reth had said. Listen to your instincts.

Her instinct was to kick this woman's ass for touching her mate. No one touched her mate except her.

It filled her then, the yearning, the thrill—and the fire-eating rage. Elia's chin dropped but her eyes never left the woman's.

The woman crouched to meet her, but she had both hands busy, holding Reth's arm. Elia snarled at her and stalked forward, eyes locked on the woman who had her teeth gritted, but wasn't looking away.

*****

RETH

Watching Elia stare down a dominant lioness was about the sexiest thing Reth had ever seen. As she stalked forward, eyes flaming, hips rolling like a big cat's, he wanted nothing more than to lift her into his arms and take her back to the Cave, and to hell with the ceremony. And her scent… she was always delicious, but there was a new thread now, something hot and prickly—something that wanted.

His own body responded. He was panting—and not because of fighting off the women. A growl vibrated in his throat, and Elia's skin pebbled—he could see it, and he could smell that high in her, the wave of desire and possessiveness she was giving herself over to.

He was unable to stop the mating huff that erupted from his throat—the deepest of his calls, and one he'd never made before.

The entire clearing hushed.