Chapter Eleven
GUARDS SNAPPED TO ATTENTION as Hexius walked past them.
While the snow leopards remained largely unknown to mainstream news, they were a legend among preters, and for over a week now, the sight of the Leopard King walking within the hallowed halls of L’Alliance had every preternatural tongue wagging.
Or drooling.
It depended on the gender.
But either way, Hexius didn’t notice anything around him, with his thoughts consumed mostly by his mate.
The past week had been...enlightening. He had heard of stories, of course. Of how mating bonds with the highest compatibility rate could result in seismic changes. But what he didn’t realize that such changes included being obsessed with a woman he had only known for days.
She was all he could think of lately, wherever he looked.
This hallway, for instance.
All Hexius could remember was how he had pinned her against this same wall three days ago, and all because he couldn’t wait another thirty seconds to reach his suite.
He had wanted a taste of her then and there, and even now, the memory of that small sound she had made when his mouth found her throat. ..
Ma?trisez-vous, Mercer. Control yourself.
But this was easier said than done, with another memory assaulting him when he caught a glimpse of a particular balcony on his way to the conference hall.
Merde.
He remembered how she had smiled at him with an irresistible mixture of shyness and mischief as she told him she had a surprise. And when they had gotten to the balcony, and she had slowly dropped to her knees before reaching up to unzip his length...
Blood stained Hexius’ high-boned cheeks as he recalled how he had nearly lost control that night, and he found himself unconsciously reaching to massage the back of his nape to assuage his discomfort.
Never had a woman so unsettled him without even trying, and while he wanted to believe it only had to do with their compatibility scores...
What if it was more than that?
What then?
He might not be the type to follow preter gossip, but he was well aware that having Samira as a mate had people talking and wondering if theirs was a love match.
Some went even as far as comparing him and Samira to Domenico and Misty Moretti, whose interspecies marriage was the first and most famous of its kind.
Idiots, the lot of them.
Did they not know that snow leopards like him were not the type to love? That their race was most comfortable with isolation, and their whole lives revolved on defending and protecting their pack?
Trust no one but yourself.
Death before surrender.
And let no outsider wrest control of your heart.
These were the rules every snow leopard lived by.
So why then, dammit?
Why did it feel like he had violated all of those rules the moment he had mated with Samira?
It was as if their souls had suddenly become fused as one being, his heart now beating in rhythm with hers.
When he had thought himself in love with Brandy, he had seen his feelings for her as his right to claim ownership of her body.
But with Samira, it was completely different.
Something about her just messed him up completely, and his jaw clenched as he headed up the stairs, and another memory assailed him when the tall stairwell window revealed the expansive training grounds of L’Alliance.
He had been invited a few days ago by one of the Panthera captains to train with them, and it was after soundly defeating two young cubs in hand-to-hand combat that he had sensed her presence.
And it distracted him enough to turn towards her scent.
Big mistake.
Samira had let out a cry of dismay as his third opponent took advantage of his distraction to score a mighty left hook.
It was good enough for Hexius’ head to snap to the side, and everyone groaned.
But then it was his turn, and all he had to do was stare menacingly at the boy while allowing his power as alpha to slowly radiate like a palpable force field.
Three...two...one.
He had simply taken a step, said ‘boo’—
And everyone laughed good-naturedly as the boy’s imaginary fears had him stumbling back and falling to the ground.
The Panthera captain had thanked him for an excellent display of Psych War 101, and Hexius was equally gracious as he thanked everyone for being courteous enough not to call him a pussy for allowing himself to be distracted by his own mate.
By the time he turned around, Samira had wisely already run away, having realized her role in his defeat. But of course, it had been easy for him to hunt her down, and all she had been able to do was gasp when he swung her up on his shoulder like she weighed nothing at all.
“H-Hexius!”
The closest room at that time had been the armory, and so he had taken her there, literally, and then after that, as an alpha would his mate.
He had meant it to be her punishment, for being too damn distracting for his peace of mind, but as it seemed to always happen where Samira was concerned—it had just as swiftly backfired, and Hexius had been the one to lose control the moment he heard her whimper his name.
Even now, he was unable to put into words why everything she said and did hit differently. And what made it worse was how other people had started to take notice as well, such as what happened a few days ago when he paid a surprise visit to her workplace.
The studio where she and her friend worked was only half an hour away from L’Alliance, and his first impressions had made him question why anyone would sign up for such insanity.
There were too many people rushing to and fro.
Everyone was shouting. And in his extremely objective opinion, the director and producers could do well to be less demanding when it came to Samira’s work.
Could they not see that she needed a break from stunt work every twenty minutes? And what about her safety? She was human, dammit. There was not even a surgeon on site, no medical equipment on standby that could scan her for concussions or internal injuries if anything were to go south.
And when she had been asked to demonstrate a jump sequence three stories up?
Insanity.
It was fucking insanity, just like most of the crew and cast were equally insane, with how none of them seemed to understand the unnecessary risks she was taking. Human, dammit! She was human, and thus with fragile human bones that could shatter with just one mistake.
And to make matters worse, the actor she had been tasked to instruct had the unfortunate habit of standing a little too close, and when the boy had even dared to throw an arm around her shoulder and calling her his ‘buddy’—
Hexius had seen enough.
He reached for his phone, made a call, and ten minutes later, the director announced about a change in plans, and it would now be one of the actresses making the jump sequences and requiring Samira’s aid.
Such changes were not uncommon, and so it was business as usual for everyone.
Or at least that was what he thought...until he turned around and saw none other than Samira’s roommate standing behind him, a knowing smile on her lips.
“Did you have something to do with that?”
“That being what?”
But this only had Anastasia’s smile widening. “How cute. The Leopard King, of all men, is actually—”
Samira suddenly popped between them, water bottle in hand. “What are you guys talking about?”
The words had Hexius jerking, Anastasia laughing, and Samira looking at both of them like they had lost their minds. “What am I missing?”
His thoughts drifted to last night. They’d been in bed, and she’d been telling him some story—something about Anastasia teaching her how to play poker, or was it about the stunt coordinator who kept calling her “kiddo”? He couldn’t remember now.
What he did remember was how her voice had just...stopped.
He’d looked down to find her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, one hand curled against his chest like she belonged there.
He should have woken her. Made her more comfortable. Something.
Instead, he’d just watched. The way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. The tiny furrow between her brows even in sleep. The trust it took to fall asleep mid-sentence with a snow leopard king.
“Love you,” she’d mumbled, not quite awake.
His chest had felt too tight. Too full. Like something was trying to break free from behind his ribs.
He’d kissed her forehead—the first time he’d done that to anyone—and pulled her closer, her warmth seeping into him like she could thaw centuries of cold.
Tomorrow, he’d told himself. Tomorrow I’ll figure out what this means.
Except tomorrow was now today, and he still didn’t have answers. Just this persistent ache in his chest and the knowledge that she’d somehow become essential to his existence in a way that terrified him.
Assez avec ces souvenirs! Enough with these memories!
The conference room where Etienne Hirsche was currently waiting for him was only a few steps ahead, and it was time to stop fantasizing about Samira and start thinking of someone with a pack to protect.
The Caro prince was already on his feet when Hexius entered, and the two men briefly shook hands.
“As neither of us is keen on wasting time...” Etienne handed him the contract L’Alliance had drafted. “All the conditions we’ve agreed on are there.”
A mixture of emotions gripped his heart as he read the contract one last time.
Upon finding out that Samira had sought refuge in L’Alliance, he had known right away that he had a choice to make.
He would either have to fight his way inside.
..or pay the price for safe passage, which this contract was all about.
Centuries of isolation would now come to an end...because even ancient races like theirs had to move with the times.
This was what he had told himself the past week. What he had used to convince the council that he was making a decision for the good of their pack...and not just because this was the only way to get his woman back.
Hexius signed the documents, and Etienne affixed the seal of L’Alliance as its representative.
“Spencer’s asking if you’d like to join us for dinner?”
“Of course.”
“I overheard our wives talking the other day,” Etienne shared. “It seems you and Samira are one of the rare pairs that’s gained telepathic access through mating?”
“Indeed.” Hexius didn’t miss a beat as he delivered his reply, and it was only when he and Etienne parted ways that he allowed the full impact of the other man’s words to sink in.
Telepathic access.
The world seemed to slow down as his blood went cold, and hollowness began to spread inside of him like a virus.
Damn her.
Domenico and Misty Moretti was the first known pairing to establish telepathic access through mating, but even until now, no scientist had been able to unlock the secret behind it. In truth, so rare was this gift that he had never even thought it was possible for Samira and him.
But it was apparently...and rage started to build inside of Hexius as all the memories from the past week came back in a flash.
All of them, dammit.
Samira had heard his thoughts whenever they were together, but she had chosen to hide it from him.
Trust no one but yourself.
Death before surrender.
And let no outsider wrest control of your heart.
He had never told her about those rules. But he realized now that he didn’t have to. She would have read them from his thoughts. And had proceeded to manipulate him from there.
Damn her.
Did she have fun pretending she wasn’t aware of how hard he had been struggling to control his need for her?
He had thought her presence at the training ground that day was unplanned, but now?
And that moment last night—her mumbling “love you” in her sleep. Had that been real? Or just another calculated move in whatever game she was playing?
****
THE WALK BACK TO THEIR suite took four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
He counted every step.
Used the familiar discipline to keep his thoughts ordered. To prevent himself from shifting and destroying half the corridor in his rage.
No.
Not rage.
Humiliation.
Even now, it killed him to think that she had heard his every desperate thought and knew his every moment of weakness.
It killed him to know that she had been aware of how he had been struggling over his decision to form a treaty with L’Alliance—
But not once, damn her.
Not once had she told him!
His hand touched the suite door. Inside, he could hear the shower running.
And in the past, such a thought would have his body hard with need in an instant.
But now, it just left him cold.
Because this time he knew the truth about her.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a thought emerged. It questioned his absolute certainty about her deception. Proposed the possibility that he was jumping to conclusions because of his pride, which had always been his weakness.
It was a very reasonable thought.
But when she emerged from the bathroom that moment, hair damp and curling, and dressed in nothing but his shirt—
All he could think about was how she had to fucking know what it used to do to him, to see her dressed like this, and surely, dammit—
Surely this was yet another ploy to play him like a fool, and all because she had gotten drunk with her power over him and she want him completely enslaved?