Savage Claim (Lion Hearts #2) - Cecilia Lane Page 0,2

close to acting like his father, but there he was. Fresh off turning someone’s face into ground beef and looking for another bout ending in blood.

A flash of movement over Trent’s shoulder caught his eye. Hailey shoved through the crowd, her gaze immediately going to her mate.

That look, that single look, quieted his raging beast and kicked up a storm inside Lindley.

He used to think a mate would steady him out. A home would keep him grounded. He needed something to hold back the darkness that twisted inside him. But the further he spiraled out of control, the more he knew it’d be an act of cruelty to tie someone to him.

He didn’t want to be his father. He hid those dark parts of himself down deep. But he’d let the mask slip and showed the monster underneath.

The air was too thick. Too many eyes were watching. His chest tightened under the weight of his losses.

No home. No family. No mate.

Breathing hard, Lindley ripped out of Trent’s grasp and wiped the blood from his face. He hated the mirrored looks of worry in Trent and Hailey’s eyes. Sooner or later, he’d be another name on the list of the dead his alpha shouldered.

Or Trent would be the second on his.

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered, voice thick with his inner beast. Even before Trent opened his mouth, he snapped, “Don’t follow.”

Ruin.

He was ruined. He didn’t need dear old Dad to tell him so.

Chapter 2

“The illegitimate Crowley pride must be eradicated. Their attack on consortium lions proves how low they’ve fallen. They’re as lost as the rest of the weak shifters inhabiting Bearden,” Ira condemned with a grimace and a dismissive wave of his hand.

Kyla Durant kept the smile pasted on her face until she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. It wasn’t safe otherwise. The wrong angle and a sudden flicking of eyes over her frown would mean trouble she didn’t want to face for breaking one of Roland Levine’s chief rules. The females in his pride were to be pleasant hosts to all who dined at his table.

Even if those guests were free with their hands and made her want to bathe with a single glance of their monstrous eyes. She didn’t know much, but she hoped that Crowley pride kept clipping the legs out from under the likes of Roland and all his consortium friends.

Kyla quietly set the tray in her hands on the counter next to the stove. Another rule. Lionesses were to be seen, not heard, even as they went about their tasks.

Sage glanced her way, but didn’t stop stirring the gravy in front of her. “How is it out there?” she whispered.

Kyla shrugged. “About what you’d imagine.”

Loud, boisterous laughs and the pounding of fists against the table made them both jump. Several tense seconds passed before they relaxed back into their tasks. Kyla unloaded the remains of the salad course and laid out a serving tray for the roast.

“Fluffing each other up before the final pump off?”

Kyla snorted as she transferred the meat to the dish. No matter how many years they’d been best friends, Sage still found ways to make her laugh at inappropriate times.

“Looks like you’re stirring the evidence,” she breathed back.

Sage stuck out her tongue in a mimed gag, then filled the gravy boat and set it next to a bowl of fluffy potatoes on her own serving tray.

Kyla glanced over her shoulder, chewing on her lower lip. The prickle of eyes on the back of her neck lifted fine hairs all over her body. “I don’t like how many of the pride are gathered. Something is happening tonight.”

Sage frowned. “The whole pride?”

“Seems like. Those not at the table are crowded in the halls and on the couches.”

Which was enough to ring alarm bells in Kyla’s head without Roland’s guests added to the mix. Fights tended to break out when too many males were thrust together. Their jerkface alpha never lifted a claw to stop them. He encouraged the competition to prove who had the tiniest, most fragile of egos.

“You know what to do, then,” Sage said softly. “We’ll get through tonight and then tomorrow…”

Kyla dipped her chin once. Her stomach twisted with nerves as a shiver worked down her spine. Part fear, part excitement, one hundred percent relief. The next day would mark their last in the Levine pride. “Eyes down, ears open.”

It was the only way to survive.

“Hurry up,” another lioness snapped as she marched past with two