Page 84 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

He shrugs. “Not in our state. We have a ban on dangerous animals. But then I don’t advertise the fact that I have him either.”

“You’re sick, you know that? Wild animals shouldn’t be caged, they belong in the wild!” Something bumps on the glass, and I look over my shoulder to see Leo’s muzzle is really close.

Santiago chuckles. “Yeah, I do. He wouldn’t survive in the wild though. So I gave him his best shot.”

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t have been able to hunt. He limps on one leg. He stumbled into a trap when he was a cub. It shredded his bones, so he never truly recovered.” He points at his right back leg, and I do notice the slight limping when he starts pacing back and forth, occasionally bumping the glass with his paw. “I found him like that in a forest. The owner probably didn’t want to deal with the runt of the litter.”

Runt? He’s so huge… but then again, I don’t know how much an average lion weighs or what it looks like in close proximity either.

“Still, you should have—”

I cover my ears when a loud roar rattles the window, drumming on my ears and sending shivers down my spine. Goose bumps break on my skin, cementing the fear settling deep in my blood. My mind chants for me to get the fuck out of here while I’m still intact.

“Él tiene hambre.”

He’s hungry.

And what? Does he plan to feed me to him as his lunch?

He walks to the fridge, snatches a plate full of steaks, and goes back to the terrace door, ready to slide it open, but my hand stops him. “What are you doing? You can’t open that door. He’ll come in here!”

“He’s not allowed inside the house. My lion has manners.”

“Oh, well, if he has manners, then I shouldn’t be worried,” I reply breezily before slapping him on the chest. “Are you insane? He might kill me!”

“Hardly.” He tries to open the door again, but I plaster my back against it, squeezing in between his chest and the glass.

“How can you be so sure? Knowing you, he probably eats all your victims.” I look at the plate in his hand, nausea hitting me, and I barely control the gag reflex. “Please tell me it’s not human meat.”

Santiago rolls his eyes before tapping on my forehead. “Now who’s insane? It’s a cow. Con tu permiso me gustaría alimentar a mi león?”

He pushes me away, finally opening the door, and I shout at his back, “No, you don’t have permission to feed your lion!” I quickly shut the door after him and watch him throw a steak to Leo who catches it easily, munching on the meat before pushing his muzzle to Santiago’s chest, asking for more.

He throws another one and another, the lion eating so rapidly I can’t take my eyes away from his huge teeth, super grateful to be on the other side of the glass. Finally, he finishes the whole plate—in five minutes, it seems.

At this point, my nose is glued to the glass, studying his every move, as the lion runs to Santiago, wraps a paw around his leg, and hugs him by the looks of it.

I’m not sure what’s crazier.

Me marrying a serial killer last night or said serial killer hugging a lion right now.

Although a thrill rushes through my veins, seeing him so confident with the wild creature, not an ounce of fear marring his face. Is there anything this man is afraid of?

The lion lies on his back, exposing his belly to Santiago, and I understand by my limited knowledge, he’s submitting to him. He considers Santiago the alpha in their pack, so he probably would never attack him.

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, right?

Santiago gently scratches him behind his ear, the lion eating up all the attention and hitting him lightly with a paw when he stops momentarily.

A smile tugs on my lips at such domestic-cat behavior, yet Santiago doesn’t share my amusement.

His face goes blank. He looks at the paw and then at Leo, saying loud enough for me to hear. “No.” Their stare-off lasts several seconds before the animal lies his head on his paws, accepting the order. Santiago gets up, strolling back to the house, and comes inside, reeking with feline smell.

“You need to take a shower. I’m not sure your parents want to smell cat on you,” I say, waving my hand and ready to spin around.

I need to think about my life, pushing aside judgment and what society says we should feel toward certain things.

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