Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Lion’s Arranged Marriage Chapter 5

Neil Gwendolyn and I agreed that our time in the cage was immeasurable. Nothing could have provided us a measure even if we had wanted to get it straight. Whatever items were in my bag or my pockets had been taken by Dr. Myrtle and his men. They had either stored them or tossed them. My bet was that they had tossed my things. What was the use of keeping items for a dead lion? That was presumably what they wanted at the end of their tests-a dead lion. With my fate declared as such so silently, it seemed almost useless to hang on to hope. But that would have been true if I hadn't had a pack like mine behind me.

After Gwendolyn had fallen asleep in my arms, I turned my eyes to the pipe above, searching the shadows for a sign of life-or anything else. Many hours were spent that way with my newly announced mate. She was understanding, compassionate, and full of stories.

Not a moment went by without her telling me about something.

One hour was spent rattling off string theory. Another was carefully constructed of all the constellations she could remember. Without a window and a proper view of the heavens, we were left with our imaginations. But that didn't stop my snow owl from describing in great detail the cosmos above our heads.

She couldn't see the sky. Yet she could bring it to life right behind my eyelids. I was amazed by her skill and sweetness, impressed that such a woman could be hidden in a modestly sized pack without my knowing.

My eyes roamed the room. Other cages existed next to ours. There were possibly three, maybe even four, additional creatures with us. However, they never spoke. They didn't make much noise. Whatever signs of life were around us were nearly nonexistent. They were probably as tired as we were.

On an unknown evening-or perhaps it was morning-I cradled her in my arms. We were becoming accustomed to this position. Occasionally, we would switch and she would hold me. But ultimately, she liked to curl up under my paw and trade heat. She tilted her head to rest it on my chest. "Do you think we've met before?"

I hummed, the sound rumbling through my chest and vibrating my hand that rested at the base of my ribs. So close to her. So close to touching her shoulder...

"I suppose," I replied logically as I let my hand fall. "It would stand to reason that being in the same pack means we've crossed paths."

"Maybe at a meeting."

I nodded. "Have you been to many meetings?"

"Yeah, most of them could just be newsletters if you ask me."

I chuckled. "I hate attending them. However, it's my honor to stand with my alpha. I could complain..."

Silence stretched between us.

She perked up and squinted playfully at me. "Are you going to complain?"

"I said I could. I didn't say I would."

"You're a silly lion."

A smirk crawled over my lips slowly. "Would you prefer me to be stern and serious all the time? Like Blake or Jermaine?"

Her nose wrinkled, causing her lips to twist upward as she huffed through her nostrils. "Great bountiful plains, no."

I snorted once out of amusement. "See? Case closed."

"Hardly closed at all. It doesn't explain how you can be so funny at a time like this."

"Again, darling, would you prefer anything else?"

"You ask as if I have a choice."

Her point was well taken. Our lives had become enmeshed because our alpha dictated it. We didn't have a choice. Though if Blake's explanation of how he chose mates was to be believed, then maybe we did have something of a choice in the matter. Was one look all it took for my heart to pick Gwendolyn?

Her features softened as they did before she fell asleep. But instead of drifting off, she simply slumped in my arms, keeping her lazy gaze steady on me. Something about the way she relaxed against my body made me feel like a good protector, a strong and capable shifter.

It made me feel less awkward about not getting us out of here yet.

"Would you sing for me?" she asked in a low voice. "Like you did the other night?"

My eyes rolled. "You heard me singing? I thought you were asleep."

"I heard you singing, too," came a low voice.

The way it startled me made Gwendolyn jump. We both sat up-or as well as we could in such a confined space.

I leaned into the bars. "Hello?" Had I imagined someone else? Was I finally losing it?

"Yes, hi-" The shifter coughed violently. When his voice came again, it was but a muted wheeze. "I'm Troy."

"Are there more of you?"

Troy sucked air into his lungs. "One of them is Wendell and the other is Elias."

"So, there's only three of you?" Gwendolyn asked. "I've been here for a while. Were you here when I got here? I thought I saw cages the other night but..."

Troy coughed again. The sound was wet, sick. "I...I don't remember."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. "I'll try to get us all out of here. We have backup coming."

"Backup?" That was a different voice. It was a bit farther away. "Sure would be nice to be rescued like a damsel in distress."

Bars creaked. Some shuffling sounds ensued. This must have been the most lucid we'd been since that dreadful doctor began his torturous tests.

While my brain swam in a drug-induced goo, my vision cleared up a bit more.

Four additional cages circled the room between broken concrete revealing decrepit dirt and crates full of what I assumed was knowledge only for the gods. That made five cages in total including ours. But I didn't remember seeing more cages when I had first broken in.

My brain was a mess.

The shifter closest to us, Troy, spoke a little louder, speaking to the shifter across the room, "Isaiah, you son of a bitch."

"That's me," the other shifter replied proudly. "What else would you expect, Troy?"

"When did you get here?"

Isaiah huffed. "No idea. Been knocked out the same as you kidnapped princesses."

I frowned. "Charming."

Isaiah sighed. "I don't suppose any of you got a light?"

Gwendolyn laughed. "You think we'd be stuck here if we had fire?"

Isaiah chuckled. "It was worth a shot, sweetheart."

I growled. "Don't call her sweetheart."

"Oh, someone has a temper," Isaiah said with a hint of humor-though I hardly found what he'd said humorous at all. "Didn't mean to hit on your mate, my bad."

Gwendolyn leaned into me. She practically shrank under my arm. The poor dear was simply exhausted by everything. While this little meeting had been nice, it was time for us to get some kind of rest.

I hugged Gwendolyn a bit tighter. "We should sleep while we can."

"Might be helpful to take turns watching the door," Isaiah suggested. "Seeing as that cranky old fucker likes to sneak in here sometimes."

I nodded. "That's a good plan. I'll take first watch with Gwendolyn. You should all get as much rest as you can."

"Could use a damn smoke before my little nap," Isaiah complained. "But I guess I'll wait for my next morphine injection."

Morphine-no wonder I feel so fuzzy, I thought.

"We should come up with a plan," Troy suggested, "while we're all still here, sort of."

I hummed. "That's not a bad idea. If that doctor opens your cage, grab something to pick a lock and throw it this way."

"Why can't it be me?" Isaiah snapped. "I can pick a lock just as good as anybody."

"Fine then," I retorted. "If he's closer to you, then he can toss it to you. Or if the doctor opens your cage, then you throw us something to pick our locks. Deal?"

Isaiah blew air between his lips. "Alright, don't get your tail wrapped around your balls. That's fine with me, tiger."

"I'm a lion."

"And I'm tired," Isaiah said with a yawn. "Goodnight, jerks."

I sighed as Gwendolyn adjusted under my arm. She craned her neck so only I could hear her whisper, "Gee, he sounds like a fantastic friend to have." "Yeah, fantastic. That's a word for it."

"It's not his fault, you know," Troy claimed. "He's just cranky without his smokes. Maybe he'll quit when we get out." He hesitated. "...If we get out."

"We'll get out," I assured. "I promise you that. We're not staying here."

Troy sighed. "I sure hope so, my friend. I'd love to get back home."

Silence resumed around us.

And that was the end of our little meeting.

***

Some time later after the guys fell asleep, Gwendolyn tapped my arm. "Your voice is lovely. I want to hear it again."

"People are sleeping, snow," I claimed, though truly it was only because I hadn't known I had a greater audience than just Gwendolyn. If I had known that other people were around, I might not have shown off my voice. It was still a work in progress. "If only I had my guitar." She smiled wistfully. "You play?"

"Most evenings, yes. I like to keep practicing even if I don't have a band."

"So, you play guitar and sing. Anything else I should know?"

I grinned mischievously and leaned toward her, my heart swirling with an unfamiliar desire. "I have the appetite of a lion."

She whimpered softly. It was barely a sound at all, something I shouldn't have even captured given how much my senses had been dulled from repeated tests. Yet the way she looked when she released that light utterance set my entire body on fire. Molecules roused to life that I had forgotten about, dancing in my center and down into my pelvis.

My chest swelled. She rose with the motion, scrambling up to grab my shoulders, positioning her mouth for me to take.

And then I kissed her.

Moments like this-those potential seeds of affection-had passed plenty in this hellhole. There were more important things to think about than her delicate petal-soft lips and her doe-like eyes. It hadn't even occurred to me that I wanted to kiss her until she made that lustful sound.

Was it because of me? Or was it because we were trapped together?

It doesn't matter, I thought. I pulled her into my lap, eager for her closeness, trying to make her get even closer than we had been. She's mine now either way.

Hands scrambled up the sides of my neck and settled on my face. Such dainty fingers could surely do damage in the right environment. She hadn't quite fought back against Dr. Myrtle and those creeps, yet she also hadn't given in. And I had a feeling it wasn't because she was weak.

No, this superb little snow owl was far from weak. She had power resonating inside her. I could feel it.

A soft sigh split our kiss. She broke away for a moment to suck air into her lungs and then dove headlong back to my lips with a tenderness I had missed. How long had it been since my last relationship? Years?

My eyelids fluttered. Nothing else matters.

The squeak of hinges rattled me from my trance. I set Gwendolyn on the ground beside me, smooshing her against the brick at the back of the cramped cage. Footsteps ruptured across the room. Something hit the ground with a loud clang. Voices. Too many voices. More than there had ever been. And then Dr. Myrtle standing in comfortable yet tasteless clothing right in front of the cage, a syringe at the ready.

He tapped the iron bar with his pen. "Come along, pets. We have guests today. I can't wait to show them what you can do."

My veins burned. The sight of that syringe made my knees weak-and I hated it. Ever since he had started his warped experiments on us, I couldn't escape the nightmare of that needle piercing my flesh over and over. The feeling haunted me, and the way the tip winked in the dim light caused nausea to roll through me.

I grabbed Gwendolyn's hand. We wouldn't have much time once that door opened. But I was willing to bet I could take a few assholes down in the process. Whatever it took to get Gwendolyn out of here-whatever the cost.

Fear crawled between my fingers and scampered up my arm. The sensation gripped my heart and made me wheeze, prompting a terrified image to pop up in my mind's eye. Gwendolyn on a slab. Gwendolyn with wires in her arms. Gwendolyn begging to be released. I could hear her now in my head, whimpering, pleading for relief.

And so I would give it to her.

My face contorted as Dr. Myrtle opened the cage. While a growl danced up my throat, my legs coiled beneath me, preparing to lunge forward and out with Gwendolyn in tow. We were going to get the hell out of here. Tonight. Today. This morning. Whenever the hell it was.

Just as the cage door heaved open, shouts echoed from the hallway. Somebody screamed. A thunderous roar cracked the anticipatory silence and then rumbled the very oxygen in my lungs.

A smile split my lips. I knew that roar.

And it was a welcome sound.

Dr. Myrtle frowned while standing up. Once his focus broke, I pounced forward, sinking my canines into his leg. The evil doctor yowled in pain as I plunged my partially shifted lion nails into his thigh, forcing his knees to buckle. Wings fluttered behind me. Humans barked commands and wood splintered.

Then there were flames.

Great hot waves of flames spread across the room. The heat warmed my face and illuminated the circular basement room, providing me more light to proceed with my attack-and showing me that the other shifters were wide awake. Once part of me was shifted, the rest came easily, my human side giving way to my lion.

I yanked Dr. Myrtle to the ground, providing room for Gwendolyn to fly over my head. She released a tiny but mighty screech as she plummeted toward one of the closest shifters, stabbing her talons into his eyes. He cried while waving her off, trying to keep her from repeating her attack.

Once she had him down, she snatched something from his pocket-it looked like a set of keys-and flew it toward the closest cage. She dropped the keys into the cage and the shifter inside scrambled to grab them. Then, she turned her attention to the next nurse, swooping down viciously with a harsh cry.

That alone encouraged me to keep going. I snapped at Dr. Myrtle's legs, sending him scampering off toward the medical table in the center of the room. He knocked the table over, sending tools and various items in every direction. A syringe skittered toward me. I batted it away.

He held up his hands, appearing like he was trying to reason with me as his lips moved. But I couldn't hear a word over the authoritative growl coming from one of my closest friends. The screams of his victims were like music to my ears. Though the ground quaked under my massive paws, I didn't mind it a bit.

It was always a pleasure to hear Milton's attacks.

I lowered my head with a vicious growl, keeping Dr. Myrtle in my sights. He was going to pay for what he had done to Gwendolyn. He was going to bleed for a long time, kept on the very brink of death with only his hope keeping him alive. After a bit, I would feed him that hope-only to snatch it right back.

True torture was best done with a fine mixture of hope and pain. That was how to kill them slowly. That was how best to defeat one's enemy. As rare as it was for me to want revenge, it was just as ferocious as my sharp teeth and dangerous claws. Dr. Myrtle was in for a bumpy ride.

Wings fluttered close. I crouched to keep from bumping into Gwendolyn, listening for any sounds of distress. But all I heard was her cry of attack as she swooped toward the evil doctor. She scratched his face and then flew high up, seeking one of the rafters above. Rafters-I hadn't noticed those before. I'd assumed the ceiling was made of cracked concrete. Those shadows had played tricks on my mind. They had likely done the same for Gwendolyn as well. As she monitored the escape of the other shifters, I dug my claws into the ground and used the position to launch at Dr. Myrtle.

Something slammed into my side. I went flying to the right, landing in a sloppy roll that sent me barreling toward a tower of crates. My shoulder slammed into rotted wood and shattered the box, sending the pile to the ground around me. I used my paws to cover my head as the boxes smashed to pieces around me. "Neil! Gwendolyn!" That was Milton calling out.

I lifted my head to see my naked billionaire friend inspecting the medical table. Dr. Myrtle was gone-and Gwendolyn too.

I roared as I pounced into view, snarling viciously as I searched the premises. Where was she? Had the doctor taken her? Did she fall and get hurt?

White wings flapped from the left, capturing my attention. Gwendolyn glided into view and then landed on the ground in front of me, twisting her head around to glance up at Milton.

My billionaire buddy sighed and then gestured around. "Listen, the fire is spreading. We have to get going." He looked at the four men. "All of us. Let's go!"

That was good enough for me.

Milton led the way out of the basement room into a wide hallway. We passed many rooms along the way, some of them with doors locked tightly or splintered open. Blood covered the ground. Debris littered the area. It was hard to say whether this was due to Milton's attack or if the facility had always been in this condition.

Did it matter?

We raced after my friend and were soon joined by two wolves, one ash-brown and the other black. They shared a spirit I recognized as siblings. The black wolf danced up to my side and nudged me with his shoulder. That was Tanner-I knew that spatter of moonlight silver in his coat. The other wolf must have been his sister, Brandi.

It strengthened my spirit to feel my friends surrounding us as we raced from the building. Shifters and humans darted around in a frenzy. Sheer madness had broken out, but it wouldn't stop us from escaping. Not when we had our very own skyscraping dragon ahead of us.

Milton sprayed some ballsy dire wolves with a ball of fire from his mouth. The fire licked the ground around the wolves and sent them yelping in the opposite direction. Once we hit the tree line, we booked it through the woods, not once turning back. Get thee behind me. For good.