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Savage Craving: A Shifting Destinies Lion Shifter Romance (Lion Hearts Book 4)
Savage Craving: A Shifting Destinies Lion Shifter Romance (Lion Hearts Book 4) Read online
Savage Craving
Lion Hearts Book Four
Cecilia Lane
A Shifting Destinies Novel
Copyright © 2020 by Cecilia Lane
Cover Art by Kasmit Covers
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Savage Chase: Lion Hearts #3 by Cecilia Lane April 2020
Contents
Savage Craving
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Next in Series
Newsletter
About the Author
Also by Cecilia Lane
Savage Craving: Lion Hearts Book Four
A woman who loathes shifters. A lion on the prowl for his mate. A threat of death brings them together, and may tear them apart.
Lilah survived a shifter prison break, but the convicts escaped and now she's on the run.
She doesn't want a bodyguard, especially not an intense, inscrutable shifter who looks at her like she's his last supper. Shifters are bad juju, and Seth's sexy intensity feels like some serious black magic. But the most dangerous escaped con wants Lilah dead. Enraged and at the end of her strength she flees—right into the jaws of the enemy's trap. There's no choice but to accept Seth's protection.
Loner lion shifter Seth's own pride doesn't want him—and now his mate rejects him as well.
Seth brings Lilah to Bearden to lie low. She might not want his help, but she has it and more—he knows Lilah is his mate. An entire life lived shiftless and in her presence suddenly his lion breaks free.
But there's no time to explore the growing mate bond. A single fateful moment changes everything, vindicates Lilah's loathing, and sets them on a path that could lead to ruin.
If Lilah doesn't overcome the horrible memories of her attack, and if Seth doesn't connect with his beast, then their fledgling bond will break... and the consequence is death.
Savage Craving, a steamy paranormal romance, is book four in the Lion Hearts series. You're guaranteed a wild ride and a HEA. For readers who love alpha heroes and enemies-to-lovers fated mates romance.
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Chapter 1
Seth Foster sipped at his beer bottle and watched the group gathered around a pool table in the back of The Roost. Every loud cheer or dragging on someone’s missed shot brought the dangerous eyes of the bar’s owner down on them. Not that Seth blamed the dragon. He could probably eat the entire Crowley pride in a single bite, but they’d wreck the joint before he could shift. Coming off a month-long ban for starting another bar fight didn’t exactly help matters.
The pride had stayed on their best behavior, though, and the dragon wasn’t the only one watching. Seth had felt eyes on him for months.
Dash pulled back on the pool cue and sent the white ball sailing through the air. It landed with a loud thunk in the middle of the multicolored pack, then rolled right into a corner pocket. Dash groaned and straightened to a chorus of snickers.
“If I’d known you were this terrible at pool, I’d never have mated you,” Colette teased.
“Keep it up,” Dash warned with a grin. “I’ll gladly repay your brother that dowry he gave me to take you off his hands.”
“He did not!” Colette gasped sharply. “He wouldn’t! You wouldn’t!”
Dash made a noncommittal noise and dodged her poke as he reached around her to palm his drink. He backed away after sneaking in a quick kiss on her shoulder, then leaned against the wall next to Seth.
Messes. They were all messes. Loud, obnoxious, delightful messes.
“Sooo,” Dash dangled the word between them until Seth raised an eyebrow. “Have you given it more thought?”
Seth took another pull from his bottle. “Given what more thought?” he asked blandly.
Dash squinted at him like he wasn't sure if he'd been played or not. Seth fought the urge to grin. As the resident jokester and shit-stirrer, his brother wasn't used to being poked at first.
Brother. Seth still had trouble wrapping his head around the idea. Fucking Waylon.
The man had been nothing more than a picture and a story as Seth grew up. He hadn’t even cared enough to get his birthday correct; the few cards that appeared in the mail always arrived months before or after.
Seth had been shocked and surprised when the old man showed up in his life. Despite his mother’s warnings to keep a level head, he’d let himself be charmed and awed like a small child. His father wanted to spend time with him. His father wanted to teach him all the tricks of the fighting trade. All the years of nothing melted away under the chance to connect with a missing piece of his life.
Except Waylon was a piece of shit, and Seth was just second best.
He’d found out about Dash through spite. Waylon lobbed his brother’s existence in his face when Seth balked at fixing fights. Not a big surprise with the way the asshole carried on with his sweet-nothings whispered in the ears of anyone with a shapely figure, but still a shock. He’d had almost three decades of thinking himself alone and had it flipped around in the space of a spat out, fuck-you-and-go-to-hell shouting match.
Dash sighed dramatically. “Staying on past this season, of course.”
That was the million-dollar question.
Curiosity drove him to find Dash. Stubbornness and a lucky job opening pushed him to try working on a ranch to get to know the man. He’d never felt more tired, more raw, and more… at home in his life.
Too bad it was all built on a lie.
Fuck. He never stayed long in any one place while working the fighting circuit. Weeks, usually. Maybe a month. Find a ring, keep winning no matter who they threw at him, vanish before the locals got too pissed. That was the only way to keep his dirty secret safe.
Bearden was different, he told himself. Hoped, prayed, wished on all the pinpricks of starlight in the night sky. He had a reason to stay. Bearden offered a flicker of a chance at normalcy.
The eyes that bored holes in the back of his head and made his shoulders itch told a different story. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming, especially when he saw faces flash in the crowded bar. That sense of unease drew a line between him and the others.
Seth picked
at the label of his bottle and swept a look over the rest of the pride.
Lindley, the pride’s second, leaned in close to give Kyla a peck on her cheek. The wide smile on his face when he pulled back included his mate as well as the sister who’d found her way into the mix right around the time Seth connected with Dash.
Sage studiously kept her eyes averted from the scarred lion standing on the other side of the table while sliding looks to the other females. For his part, Rhys kept a close watch on her and never backed down when Lindley put himself between them with a brotherly growl of protection.
The alpha snagged his queen around the waist and jerked her to the side, causing her to miss her shot. She spun into him, nose wrinkled in faux fury and eyes shining with love and mischief. The love grew when Trent ran his knuckles over her stomach and bent to sip at her lips.
Hailey was pregnant.
Congratu-fucking-lations to the alpha and his queen.
Seth rolled his shoulders and reached for the missing part of himself. That hole inside added another line between him and the others and kept him at arm’s length. They were a proper pride. Matched up, paired off, shouting insults to one another between their private moments. Mating bonds and friendship stitched them together.
What the hell did he bring to the table? He was the odd man out. A freak. A liar.
He passed another look over the group, then stiffened. Trying to keep his reaction to himself, he swung his gaze to the televisions behind the bar, then back over the crowded dance floor. One more pass over the pool tables and dart board along the back wall confirmed what he suspected.
He was being hunted.
Fuck. Guilt stabbed at him. He needed to move on. The Crowleys didn’t deserve any of the shit that spewed when shifters realized he wasn’t like them. Even more, he didn’t want to hear it coming from their mouths.
They sure as shit didn’t deserve the trouble gunning for him.
He took one last pull from his bottle and pushed off the wall.
“Where are you going?” Dash called after him.
“Bathroom. Do we need a buddy system like the ladies?”
Hailey snorted a laugh. “For the record, it’s so we can talk trash about all of you.”
"My apologies." Seth walked backward and touched his fingers to his forehead. "Carry on."
The chuckles from the other women and scowls from their mates popped a short-lived smile on his face. His jaw tightened as he paused by the bathroom for a handful of seconds, then slipped back out of the short hallway. Using the rest of the crowd to hide, he waded through the bar and out into the night.
He just intended to scout the other patrons and parking lot. He didn’t want to sound the alarm without cause. Besides, the faces he’d seen may only have been there to blow off some steam. There was no crime in throwing back a few beers at the end of the day.
“Hey, snitch!”
In the darkest part of the parking lot, Seth turned. “Zeke,” he greeted flatly. “Enjoying the evening?”
Shit. The lion was one of the regulars at the local fighting ring.
Truthfully, he’d expected something from the moment he gave Dash the location of some pencil-dicked wolves that might have been involved in his mate’s abduction. In doing so, he’d violated one of the few rules for those working the circuit—never turn on a fellow fighter.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” Zeke growled. “We all will.”
The fucker’s dark chuckle was drowned out with a rustle of movement as more figures stepped out of the shadows.
He’d stayed away from the fighting ring on the outskirts of Bearden, but that hadn’t been enough. Seth scanned the faces coming for him and slid into a loose stance. Wolves, bears, even another lion, he’d fought most at least once. In a fair fight, they couldn’t take him down. Cowards had to come for him in a pack.
How many times, now, had he faced similar brawls? Too many to count. He’d taken beatings from boys his own age until they’d gotten big enough for their fathers to join in, too. The pride of his birth never let him forget his place.
He hadn’t run then, he sure as shit wouldn’t give bastards he’d already fought the satisfaction of running now.
Seth didn’t wait for them to make the first move. He hurtled across the group, sending a blur of fists at Zeke. Head, stomach, ribs, he aimed and punched at random, never giving the shifter an opportunity to sense the next blow.
Remain unpredictable. Be prepared for everything. His father’s words echoed through his head.
Late father. Asshole who used him and rejected him at the end.
Another punch slammed into his gut. Seth cranked his head around and threw his focus back into the fight. A second fighter dropped in on his other side and went after him with a screaming howl that had the rest of the gang roaring until Seth sent him sprawling against the ground with a sharp elbow to his nose.
Two more stepped into his place. Uneven odds for most, but they needed to knock him down and make him suffer.
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Seth told them with a cocky grin. He backed away, eyes bouncing between the closest two, waiting for one to take their shot.
They moved swiftly, both lunging for him at the same time.
“Fucking traitor,” one growled.
“You’re leaving here in a body bag,” the other sneered.
“Not fucking likely.” Seth shot between them, landing a punch to one’s kidneys as he slipped behind them. With a growl, he rounded on the other man and let two rib-cracking blows loose.
Something brushed against the back of his mind. He reached for that tickle and bit of pressure, tried to stroke a hand over his inner animal, anything to keep the fleeting feeling for seconds longer, but it wasn’t enough. The sensation disappeared as quickly as it arrived.
So he fed it more. More jabs and snarls. More hedging in the other fighters and backing them up across the tight circle. Years of anger and resentment fueled his punches. Insults and being shoved aside, the hurts directed at his saint of a mother, all of it hardened him. He didn’t need anyone. Getting close only set himself up for disaster.
And still, he couldn’t make himself leave Bearden, Dash, or the Crowleys. Not that there was anywhere for him to go. There was no returning to the pride of his birth. His mother was better off without him dragging her down.
These fucks weren’t going to drive him away. He made the decisions, not them.
Seth flung himself at his opponents. He was a whirlwind of fury, never giving them more than seconds to recover. He ignored the slaps and blows and scratches, pushed all the fresh pains into the beating force deep in his mind.
There, between the grunts and growls, between the fists and kicks, those moments, he could feel his lion. He could feel normal.
Seth whipped around, latching a hand around one man’s arm. He drove his other fist into him again and again, until a blow cracked against the side of his head. Seth wheeled around and took another jab to the nose. Pain flashed bright and hot, but he growled and advanced on his next target, only to feel the hollow clunk of a pipe hit him across the back. Seth staggered forward. Another blow struck the back of his knees.
“Keep our fucking names out of your mouth,” Zeke sneered. He raised the length of pipe and drove the end into his gut. Seth doubled over as more shots followed. Head. Ribs. Back.
Fuckers. Assholes. There was something petty in the fact that they stayed to their human forms—they’d be disqualified for shifting in a ring fight, but here, out in the open, it was an indictment on ratting them out. They kept to the rules while he was the one to break them. He wanted to rip out their throats and tear them to shreds.
With what claws? What fangs? He curled in on himself as the beating continued. He was nothing against the entire pack of them. Worthless. Broken.
With a roar, a foot coming straight for his face disappeared. Grunts and growls filled the night as the tide of the battle changed. Seth pushed himself up
right to see the other Crowley males throwing punches of their own into the attackers.
Even before the others were fully chased off, Dash broke away and offered Seth a hand. Seth slapped him away and pushed himself back to his feet.
His skin crawled. Weak. Pathetic. If he’d had his lion, if he’d been able to shift... He hated the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t a damn cub in need of a rescue.
The last of the fuckers turned tail and broke from the fight. Rhys, shifted and snarling, padded after the slowest and offered an extra swipe of his paws before turning back at Trent’s sharp whistle. He wasn’t the only one to march across the parking lot. The females, with their human leader in the middle, shot out from wherever they’d been ordered to stay out of danger.
“The fuck was that about?” Trent asked in a low voice when they were all gathered.
Seth spread his hands wide. “They took offense at being called out on their shit. It was payback for the thing with Colette.”
The reminder pulled a growl out of his brother. Eyes flashing with his inner animal, Dash curled his hands into fists and scowled into the night. Seth couldn’t blame him. Couldn’t blame any of the angry looks flaring across one face after another. The hot fury was a natural reaction over a loved one suffering unnecessary danger.
Trent tucked Hailey against his side. The fingers of the hand spanning her hip slowly grazed her stomach. “Are they going to be a problem?”