The Leopard King (2 page)

As much as he’d been drinking and as little as he’d eaten in the last five days, it wouldn’t surprise him. Sometimes, if he fasted and downed enough liquor, Dalena came to him. Not in her last moments with blood trickling from her mouth, but the smiling Dalena with twilight eyes and hair like a swathe of midnight. He wished he had the courage to just… let go and follow her. For the last three years, he’d been working up to it. The real world seemed ephemeral now, so he’d been about to shift for the last time and let himself go feral.

On the cusp of his final farewell, Pru Bristow had the nerve to break into his sanctuary, standing before him like she had every right. It summoned such a wash of rage that he took a step back as his hands curled into fists.
It’s not her fault. Dial it down.
Controlling such raw fury came at a cost, however. He swayed a little and caught himself on the wall. Inwardly he cursed as Pru rushed to his side, offering her shoulder.

Dom shook her off with a snarl. “You didn’t answer me.”

She stumbled a bit, a round little woman made more so by the puffy jacket she wore. Dom probably should care that her lips held a blue tinge and that her red-brown hair had bits of melting ice in it. He didn’t. As he watched, she shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a hook near the front door. Her heavy boots were sodden too, so she stripped out of them. Beneath, she wore striped socks with bright colors on each separate toe. Dom twitched and fought the urge to eject her forcibly. But he hadn’t fallen so far that he’d treat a pride mate that way.

Not yet.

Finally, she replied, “Beren from Burnt Amber is waiting for you at the hold, and we had word from Pine Ridge just before I left. Raff will have arrived by now.”

“So?” He bit off the question as if he didn’t know damn well what she was driving at.

Her freckled throat worked visibly before she managed to say, “Slay has carried on without you for as long as he could. It’s time to take care of business.”

“You’re wasting your time. Ash Valley should’ve ousted me officially two years ago, so let’s cut to the chase. What will it take to make you give up and tell Slay to accept his role as pride leader?”

Pru lifted her chin slightly. “I can’t go back without you.”

“Then I suggest you shovel out the guestroom. And don’t expect me to take care of you.”

Dom slammed out of the den, but his keen hearing still picked up her soft response. “Why would I? When you can’t even look after yourself.”

Stinging hard from sympathy that felt so much like pity, he downed the remainder of the fifth he’d been nursing, but due to an accelerated metabolism, he had to drink
so
much to feel it, that he needed his own still. Dom hurled the bottle at the wall and took faint satisfaction in the glass pile he had going. If Dalena knew how he was treating the woman who had been like a sister to her, she’d be beyond furious.

And that’s the problem. She’s not here.

Yet seeing Pru after so long brought back a rush of good memories. He couldn’t count the nights the four of them had spent laughing until the sun came up. Dalena had been protective of Pru, conscious that she couldn’t accompany everyone else on regular hunts. No, Pru was left behind at the hold with the handful of other Latents, ostensibly holding down the fort, but he’d always secretly pitied her yearning eyes as she watched the rest of the pride shift and run, a sweet freedom she could never experience. Now that
she
felt sorry for
him
, it burned like a bitch, and he wanted to tear this place apart with his bare hands. The only reason he’d lasted this long without Dalena was the faint hope that he might someday take revenge on the unidentified devil who’d executed her in cold blood. His wife had died trying to give him a clue, and like a useless bastard, he’d only held her in stunned, uncomprehending silence.

As the days after her murder turned into weeks, the trail went cold and he lost hope. He couldn’t stay at the hold without her, and he didn’t have the fortitude to die.
Welcome to purgatory.
At first, visitors from Ash Valley came and went, most bearing gifts or sympathetic words. In time that number dwindled to an occasional call from Slay, allegedly looping him in, but Dom knew his friend had really been checking to see if he was still alive.

And now he’s sent Pru. Fucking prick.

Pacing—with a door between them—Dom tried to ignore her, but she didn’t make it easy. He picked up the sound of her cleaning: first the scritch-scritch of the broom against the tiles of the kitchen floor, then the off-and-on hiss of the water as she washed dishes. The smell of cleaning products wafted through the rooms between them, prickling his nose. This place hadn’t been lemon-fresh in years, and he couldn’t just hide while she brushed away the cobwebs he’d been cultivating. While he couldn’t throw her into the icy rain, he could make her choose to go.

But it took another bottle to give him the resolve to face her again. As he got a decent buzz on, she tidied his kitchen, put away all the dishes, and cleaned the floor. It smelled so much better that he stopped to breathe in the freshness. Dom hadn’t even known there was an apron anywhere in the retreat, but she had one, a yellow thing with ruffles that made her look like a half-drowned buttercup.

“How long’s it been since you had a proper meal?” she asked.

“Fuck off.”

“That’s not part of the four food groups. I’ll take that to mean it’s been a while.”

It had been over a week since he went hunting, and he couldn’t remember if he’d eaten that night. Loss felt better as a leopard, muted and distant. Since he hadn’t bought provisions in forever, he didn’t expect her to find anything. But Slay must have sent shit behind his back because she found meat in the freezer and got it out with a smile so strained that he could’ve passed pasta through it. Pru ignored his scowl and got to work defrosting, like he had been waiting for somebody to take charge.

“I need you to get the hell out. Right now.” If she didn’t, he had no idea what he’d do.

“You don’t know what you need.” She sliced the steak into strips without looking at him.

For a moment, he was speechless. “Pru. Watch how you address me.”

Dom had grown accustomed to a certain amount of respect as pride leader, and now he wasn’t used to people talking to him at all. So this much defiance made his scalp prickle. She smelled like fresh air and goat milk soap, plus a touch of pine from the long walk up here. Her heart was beating fast, but she didn’t back down.

In fact, she even folded her arms, staring up at him with narrowed eyes. “You can’t have it both ways, Dom. Not long ago, you said Slay should lead permanently in your place. Which means you’re not above me, you’re just a pride mate being a dumbass.”

His jaw clenched so hard that it might crack. “
What
did you say?”

“Until I hear otherwise, Slay is the only one who can give me orders. Cats don’t mate for life, and you have a responsibility to Ash Valley. You need to move on. So I’m here whether you like it or not. Once you come home, I’ll apologize for my disrespect.”

“You want me back so bad?” He shouldn’t say this, but she’d goaded him past the point of any pretense at being polite. If he let her, she’d dig at his wounds in a clumsy attempt at lancing them. “Fine. Here are my terms. I’ll return when
you
can shift and take me as a mate.”

Her reflexive flinch said she couldn’t brook his current level of cruelty, and Dom smiled.
Sorry, Dalena. Pru is sweet as honey-butter biscuits. Breaking her won’t take long.

P
ru never would’ve
imagined that Dom would use her greatest weakness against her, but at the moment, he was an injured beast, so she breathed through the pain of that challenge. He knew perfectly well how hard she’d tried, how much she’d suffered for repeated failure—and how impossible his request was—yet she couldn’t return to Slay, defeated by a few harsh words. So she waited until the pain subsided while considering the gauntlet he’d thrown. One impossible thing added to another, so why not become Dom’s mate if she could shift? She might as well wish on a star for a solution.

So she said, “Deal.”

He cocked his head. In leopard form, his ears would be swiveling. “We both know you can’t do it, no matter how much you want to.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ll give up.” She turned away before he figured out one critical fact.

It hurts me too, asshole. Seeing you, without her.

Mechanically, she went about searing the steak strips, leaving them oozing blood on the inside. It was ironic; she preferred her meat that way too, even if she couldn’t change like everyone else. He cursed as she plated the food with artful care, and then she carried their dishes into the ruined dining room. Dom probably didn’t expect her to right the table and two chairs, but she did, and then she sat down.

“You expect me to have dinner with you?” he demanded.

“It’s the sensible option. Or you can starve yourself until you’re too weak to resist when I force-feed you.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he slammed into the seat across from her and grabbed his food like she might fight him for it. He devoured her cooking with a ferocity that yielded to simple hunger; Pru registered the moment he stopped pretending to savage her with his teeth. She didn’t speak again until their plates were clear, and then she washed up in the kitchen. Since she’d expected him to retreat, his silent departure came on cue.

Proud, arrogant, and a touch vain, but also kind, generous, and protective—for years she’d witnessed Dom’s devotion to Dalena, and now she had to add selfish and self-absorbed to that list. If he didn’t care about Ash Valley anymore, if only
his
pain mattered, then he was more of a bastard than anyone could’ve predicted. Pru controlled the urge to slam around the kitchen; that would reveal too much about her state of mind.

By then, exhaustion had her in a chokehold, so she switched off the lights and went down the darkened hall toward the stairs. Ruined furniture made her feel like a squatter as she used her phone to avoid pitfalls. On the second floor, the first bedroom had no mattress, just padding and foam that had been clawed to shreds. Likewise, the second room offered no shelter, so she made a nest in the third. While the bed was broken, Dom had left the mattress amid the wooden shrapnel.

If the retreat had central heating, he didn’t have it on. Undressing in the austere bathroom, she shivered in stepping into the shower. The water never warmed properly, either, and Pru’s teeth chattered under the chilly spray. Cold and miserable described her situation all right; it was like Dom denied himself creature comforts as penance. It wouldn’t surprise her to learn that he wore a hair shirt like a self-flagellating monk beneath the tattered sweater that looked like he hadn’t taken it off in weeks.

With her confidence at low ebb, she crawled beneath a mound of musty covers and tried to sleep. At some point she must’ve, but guttural cries jolted her awake. It sounded like Dom was being strangled as he wept, and she hesitated. If he was awake, he might pull her head off for stepping over the line. On the other hand, nobody should fight nightmares alone.

She followed the sounds to the end of the hall. He hadn’t spared this room either, and Dom sprawled amid the wreckage, long splinters of wood and shards of glass that glimmered in the moonlight streaming through the window. No furniture remained intact, and he lay curled on the bare floor, which wouldn’t be so pitiful if he’d shifted.

Carefully Pru knelt and set a hand on his brow, which was cold as ice but clammy with fear sweat. He’d hate like hell for anyone to see him like this. Yet her touch seemed to settle him a little; it wasn’t natural for a cat to hide for so long. While many enjoyed solitary hunts, there was also plenty of close contact and camaraderie. Even the fiercest cats needed to purr.

Half holding her breath, she eased from the crouch to sit beside him. Tentative as a first kiss, she petted his head as her mother once did to lull her back to sleep after a bad dream. Awake and alert, he’d chew off her fingers before allowing her to comfort him. At first, he was restless, thrashing as if he fought unseen enemies, but she maintained a soothing rhythm and his breathing steadied. His vulnerable, sleeping features showed even more clearly how he’d suffered since Dalena died.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But I have my orders… and she wouldn’t thank me for letting this go on. She’d hate this, all of it.”

Dom reached out and locked long fingers on her wrist. “You can’t be in my bed unless you can shift.”

Pru laughed. “What bed? And don’t flatter yourself.”

Letting out a faint sigh, he let go of her and folded his arms beneath his head. “How come I never knew that you have claws?”

“It was never my place to use them on you before.”

“It still isn’t,” he muttered.

Changing topics, she ignored his anger; it was easier to handle than his anguish. “First thing, we’re cleaning this place up. Do you have a heater? It’s freezing.”

“You’re soft, that’s all.”

“Dom.”

“If I turn it on, it’ll only encourage you. So find it yourself.”

“Okay. I will.”

Oddly, she found his behavior less painful in the middle of the night, possibly because he struck her like a wounded child. Smiling, she went back to stroking his head and felt mildly astonished when he didn’t threaten to bite. Instead he remained quiescent, staring into the darkness, until a long, heavy sigh slipped out of him.

“That feels good. I hate that it does… and that I’m too tired to fight you right now.”

“I won’t quibble over victory by attrition.”

Thus encouraged, she let her fingers say the things her mouth couldn’t, like,
I miss her too
and
I’m sorry I left you alone for so long.
Once, apart from Dalena, Dom had been her closest friend. As if his mate had been the glue holding everyone together, the center couldn’t hold without her. Disintegration came in slow sobs and hands clutching empty air. His shorn hair scraped her palm like the bristles of a brush.