Page 181 of Her Rabid Beasts

My lion doesn’t turn around, his tail swishing irritably as he sniffs and growls, pacing the length of the fire wall.

I cross the five steps it takes to get to him in slow, controlled strides. “Lyle,” I repeat.

He comes to a stop, but keeps his aggressive eyes trained on the fire. Tentatively, I step up behind him and reach out my fingers to touch his rear. A tingle shoots up my arms as human skin comes into contact with that golden bronze pelt and Lyle’s tail goes still. Taking a deep breath, with deep care and my senses on alert for his every movement, I trail my fingers over his rear and up along his spine, healing the awful flesh burns as I go. Burns that were made on my behalf.

His ears twitch. But he lets out a hiss, baring his canines at the fire in protest. The powerful muscles beneath my fingers vibrate with restrained force.

“Lyle,” I breathe, closer to his head now. “Come back to me.”

I reach his shoulders, and he’s so big that I’m reaching up a little to stroke the bottom of his singed mane. I heal that too. “Such a pretty lion,” I coo.

Those ears twitch again.

“Regina,” Savage warns.

“He won’t hurt me,” I say softly. “Will you, my big lion?”

Sucking in a breath, I take in the damage to his face. His flesh is red and shiny, in some places nearly burned down to the bone. Somehow, his eyes are intact, but his fur has completely melted away.

Biting my lip against a sob, I press my cheek to his mane, in the way of cats, both big and small. I gently rub my cheek against my mate and send my power to heal the worst of his burns across his face, chest, forelegs. Muscle, skin and fur grow anew across the horrible damage, stopping the bleeding, and no doubt the pain and burning.

A low rumbling purr begins and cuts itself off.

“We will get him another day,” I reassure him, stroking his mane. “Our enemy. For now, my strong, strong, animus, give my man back.”

I let out a pulse of power towards him, dominating him, demanding he submit to me as his regina.

Only then does he turn that magnificent, huge head to look at me.

Untamed, ferocious amber eyes take my breath away. So different from the man and yet not. I see the defiance of Lyle in them. The power, the discipline. But his animus is infinitely wild and free. A beast that can never be successfully restrained by another based on sheer will alone.

This is not a tame lion, nor will he ever be. No, Lyle’s animus is like a bush fire. Uncontrollable. Devastating.

“Regina?”comes a deep, bestial voice in my head, like rumbling mountains and sloping, rocky valleys.

“My one lion,” I say softly. “My mate.”

I feel my other mates at my back, towering over me. Lyle’s animus marks their presence, one at a time.

“You are all mine?”he asks, baring his teeth at them in challenge.

My throat tightens at the question.

“We have lived many lifetimes with our regina,” Dragon-Xander says. “We will be with her in this lifetime, too.”

Lyle’s eyes slide back to me, searching for confirmation.

I swallow and run my palm over the side of his newly healed face, admiring his fresh, long whiskers. “You were the sun for me down there in my cave,” I whisper to him. “I heard you. I listened. You are mine.”

No one expects what he says next.

“If you wish to kill me for what I have done, it would be your right. I would die gladly, having known your gentle touch. I would spend my last heartbeats worshipping you.”

This is an apology he doesn’t expect me to accept. My anima keens and I allow a whine to leave my throat.

He senses it and immediately steps forward, rubbing his face gently along my cheek.

“I am yours in every way that is possible,” I whisper into his ear. “I have been since the moment I met you. I just didn’t know it.”

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