Serengeti Storm (7 page)

Shana crunched through the snow on her way to a reckoning that was long overdue.

She stopped in front of the all-too-familiar bungalow and braced herself for the confrontation to come. Backing out now wasn’t an option.

She was going to lose Caleb—if she hadn’t already lost him—all because of some stupid slip of the tongue. All because she couldn’t seem to stop being her mama’s girl. It was past time that changed. It was time she changed.

The house looked like something out of a goddamn painting, snowy and homey and sweet. Shana kicked a snowdrift off the porch to wreck the postcard perfection of the scene. She pounded her fist on the door, loud enough to be heard through an early morning hangover stupor. At the vaguely human groan of “Come in,” she stomped in and kicked the door shut behind her.

Shana planted her feet and crossed her arms, hoping she looked like walking, talking menace, but feeling nervous and tremblingly small, as only her mother could ever make her feel.

Brenna pushed herself up to a sitting position on the messy daybed where she often passed out. She blinked at Shana blearily. “Shana-bay? When did you get back?”

“I’ve been back,” Shana snapped. “I was here yesterday.”

Brenna frowned in confusion. “Was that yesterday?”

“Memory a little foggy, Mother?” Shana kept her voice rough and merciless, letting all the anger of the last two decades bleed acid into her words. She was hurting and not caring who she hurt. “Why don’t you have another drink?”

She crossed to the crates her mother had set up as an impromptu bar. Grabbing the first bottle that came to her hand, Shana held it up, angling the label toward the morning light seeping in through a crack in the blinds. “Ketel?” She grabbed a glass and splashed vodka up to the rim. She carried the glass and bottle over to where her mother huddled, watching her warily.

“Have a drink.” She waved the glass toward her mother, careless of the alcohol that splashed out on the floor.

Brenna didn’t reach for the glass. Her expression was cautious, but her eyes were locked on the glass. She licked her lips.

Shana’s hand tightened spasmodically on the glass, shattering it. Shards bit into her palm, sterilized by the alcohol dripping from her hand. She threw away the remnants of the glass, not caring where they fell.

Her mother’s nostrils flared as the alcohol fumes hit them.

“Not in the mood for vodka?”

Shana didn’t have any conscious intention of throwing the bottle. One second it was in her hand. The next it exploded against the door in a shower of glass. Her brain didn’t even seem engaged in the action. She didn’t have any conscious thoughts right now, just an anger that had waited too long to be released.

Brenna flinched and cowered. “Shana-bay?”

“I’m angry with you, Mother,” Shana said, the words distant and foreign on her tongue. “I’ve never said that before, have I? I think I’ve been angry with you my entire life.”

Her mother’s eyes grew wounded and misty. “Shana. Why?”

“Why? Are you fucking kidding me?” Shana’s hands curled into fists. She needed something else to throw. Something else to break.

She stormed over to the crates, inspecting the inventory of bottles. Brenna could have thrown a party for a rock band without needing to visit a liquor store. Shana grabbed gin with one hand and vermouth with the other, ignoring the way the glass shards dug deeper into her palm. She didn’t throw them, just gripped them by the necks.

“Do you remember what you said to me when Landon took over the pride?”

Brenna’s eyes flickered nervously. “He seemed a good catch.”

“‘Fuck him.’ That’s what you said. ‘If you’re going to be a slut, Shana, at least fuck someone worthwhile. It’s your time. Be his consort. Do whatever it takes.’”

“I’m sure I didn’t say—”

“Oh, no. Of course not. You’re the mother of the fucking year. You would never tell me to whore myself out to any man who might have half a prayer of being Alpha. You would never dream of telling me to leave the only man who ever made me happy because he was never going to amount to anything.”

“You deserve to be with the best.”

“I deserve to be happy!”

The vermouth bottle shattered against the door.

Shana tried to take a breath, tried to find a place of calm, but all she could feel was the bottle she held. “He made me happy, Mother. I loved him and he loved me. But all you could see was that he would never be more than a lieutenant, a good soldier.”

Brenna’s face screwed up with distaste. “Is this about that Caleb?”

“Yes!” The gin erupted, a fountain of pale green glass.

Her mother flinched at the violence, but her expression had turned mulish. “You were too young to understand what you were giving up by being with him. I only wanted what was best for you. You were bred to rule, Shana.”

“I don’t give a shit what I was bred to do! That’s no excuse for turning me into the camp slut.”

Disdain flooded Brenna’s face. “You did that all on your own.”

“Did I?” Shana hefted an oversized bottle of Scotch. “I suppose I told myself how easy men were to manipulate in bed. I suppose I decided all on my own to leave Caleb and sleep with a series of men you so kindly picked out for me. Richard…” the Scotch crashed against the door, “…Daniel and Dillon…” Chopin and Tanqueray joined the destruction, “…Ari and Corin and Jato.” Three more bottles exploded into hundred-proof debris.

Shana’s throwing arm was starting to ache, but in terms of the men whose lives she’d destroyed to become the Alpha’s mate, men hand-picked by her mother, she was just getting started. Names and bottles flew across the room, until she was panting and sweaty. Her face was hot and wet, but she didn’t remember crying.

She looked down at the crates. There was only one bottle left. An industrial-sized plastic jug of cheap tequila. She picked it up and unscrewed the top. The mixed-drink puddle at the door crept across the room, soaking into the rugs. Shana splashed through it and kicked open the door. She upended the tequila over the snow on the porch, melting the pristine sweetness of it.

After the last drop had fallen, she dropped the jug beside the wreckage at the door, crunching through the glass. She didn’t bother to close the door. She wouldn’t be staying much longer.

“I’m done, Mother. I’m going to be with Caleb now, if he’ll have me. No more machinations. No more plots. Just me and my good-for-nothing soldier.”

“You deserve—”

“Shut up! Just shut up about what I deserve!” The words were a rabid scream that sucked the last of her energy. Shana felt battered and defeated, exhausted to her core. “I have to forgive you,” she said softly. “I have to forgive you or I can never expect Caleb to forgive me, but every time you talk about what I deserve and my goddamn legacy, you make it so damn hard. I need you to stop, Mother.” She took a deep, ragged breath, trying to get air back into lungs that had gone unbearably tight. “Just stop for me.”

“Shana…”

“Stop.” Shana turned and walked through the lake of poison and out the door. She didn’t look back.

From the liquid still dripping down the front door and the shell-shocked expression on Brenna’s face, Caleb had just missed Shana.

As soon as he’d run off his anger, guilt had caught up with him. He had realized that he’d never answered her question about whether or not he forgave her. Because he hadn’t. He had been looking for a reason not to trust her. Looking for a way to pick a fight. He hadn’t forgiven her at all. Not even close.

Shana wasn’t the only villain in their relationship.

He’d been hurting her, shoving her away as hard as he could, ever since the first time she hurt him. Smacking her back every time she tried to get close again. But he’d never been able to forget her. Never been able to just walk away. Shana was in his blood. In his soul. He couldn’t be happy without her. No matter how he tried to pretend.

And he was never going to be happy with her until he stopped clinging to past hurt. It was a choice. Forgive, move on, love her as hard as he could and hold on for dear life. Or live alone and miserable, clinging to his righteous anger.

As choices went, it wasn’t difficult.

Caleb turned back to the ranch, intent on starting the rest of his life with Shana.

Provided he could find her.

Her mother’s bungalow wasn’t the first place he looked, but the chaos there was the first actual sign of Shana he’d found.

Caleb thought of tracking her immediately—her scent would be fresh—but some instinct stopped him. He stepped over the puddle of booze, drawing Brenna’s dazed gaze. He crossed to crouch in front of her, sympathy warring with anger on Shana’s behalf. The battered shell of a woman huddled in front of him had put the woman he loved through a lot of shit, but she was still Shana’s mother and, in her own way, she loved Shana just as fiercely as he did.

Brenna’s bewildered eyes met his. “She yelled at me,” she said, visibly confused. Caleb didn’t know what Shana’d yelled about, and he doubted Brenna did either. Only the volume seemed to have penetrated.

“You deserved it,” Caleb said, but he kept his tone soft. He wanted her to hear every word. “This is a conversation we should have had a long time ago,” he said. “You’ve been tying Shana up into knots for over a decade.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Brenna whimpered.

“I don’t care what you meant to do. I couldn’t care less about your intentions. I don’t give a shit if you blame the booze or blame Shana or blame me. I’m not going to let you hurt her anymore. She’s mine now and I’m going to take care of her. That means no one is allowed to hurt her. Not you, not even Shana herself. No one.”

“I would never—”

“You have and you will try to again,” he cut her off brutally, though he kept his tone soft and smooth. “You need to stop drinking. I’m going to give you a chance to do it on your own, but if I see you with so much as a drop of alcohol, I’m going to have the Alpha put you into rehab so fast your damn head will spin. And I’ll have him keep putting you there until you learn. You may not respect my authority, but you’ll respect his. And he listens to me.”

A sly gleam entered Brenna’s watery eyes. “He does?”

“Yes, and you’d better be grateful he does. Because of you, Shana’s done everything she can think of to piss off Landon. I am the only thing standing between you and your daughter being kicked out of this pride. So you’re going to do as I ask. You’re going to sober up and you are going to be a paragon of motherly love. Or I will make damn sure you never come within three miles of your grandchildren.”

“Grandchildren?”

Caleb ignored the hopeful light in her eyes. He and Shana’d never talked about cubs, and she wasn’t exactly the maternal sort, but he was willing to pull out any manipulation tactics necessary to get Brenna to toe the line.

“This is your one chance to shape up, Brenna,” he said sternly. “I don’t give second chances. Just ask Shana.”

The three rocks for which the Three Rocks Pride was named formed a little cluster, marking the southernmost border of their land. They were the only landmark on the stretch of quiet plain.

Shana scrambled up onto the largest of the rocks, slipping and sliding a bit on the snow-slick surface. She perched at the top and hugged her knees to her chest, looking back over her solitary tracks through the snow.

She’d left her mother with the noble intention of finding Caleb and proving her love to him, but she’d quickly realized she didn’t have the first idea how to do that. Seduction was so much easier than sincerity. How could she possibly convince him that this time, unlike all the others, she really meant to stay for good? It seemed a hopeless task.

Shana dropped her forehead onto her knees, hoping for divine intervention. Now was definitely the time for some help from a goddess.

The winter wind buffeted her back, carrying on it the possibility of yet another storm. Shana usually loved wild weather, but she wasn’t sure she could take another blizzard right now. There was only so much chaos a soul could take.

“You’re a hard woman to track down.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of his voice. He’d come from downwind, the sound of his steps vanishing under the cloak of the wind. He looked amazing, so tall and strong, with bits of snow clinging to his hair. Shana’s heart gave a little jump, but she didn’t let herself hope yet. Just because he’d sought her out didn’t mean he would take her back.

Caleb walked forward slowly, as if afraid he’d spook her. He leaned against the massive rock on which she perched, his head a couple of inches below hers.

“I have an answer to your question,” he said.

“My question?” She didn’t remember asking a question. Had she asked a question?

“If I forgive you.”

Shana’s stomach did a slow somersault. “Oh. That question.” She didn’t want an answer. Really she didn’t. She just couldn’t handle another heartbreak right now.

“I’ve been thinking about it. About all the things I’ve been mad at you for over the years. It’s quite a list.”

Oh, Goddess. Please stop him from giving her a list. She couldn’t handle a list.

“But I’ve done some pretty shitty things too.”

Shana felt her body tighten and still as her awareness sharpened.

“It won’t be easy for me to trust you again.” He gave a small grimace. “Any more than it will be easy for you to trust me. Trust that I’m not going to go off like I did this morning and run out on you.”

Her entire life dangled precariously from his words. Was he saying what she thought he was saying?

“But my answer is yes. I do forgive you.” His shoulders tensed like he was bracing to take a hit. “I love you, Shay.”

She didn’t move a muscle, but her heart took off like a racehorse out of the gates. “Seriously?” she whispered.

He met her eyes, his own open and resolute. “You think I’m messing with you? I’m sorry about this morning. I just…” He shook his head sharply. “No excuses. If it happens again, you have my permission to kick my ass. I’m always going to be there for you, Shay. Always.”

Shana eyed him warily. If something seemed to good to be true, it always was. “I’m not going to get nicer. Just because you love me, I’m not going to turn into some sweet young thing. I come as a package. Bitchiness included.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

She slugged him lightly on the shoulder, relief and something warmer flowing through her. He did know her. And he loved her anyway. Shana gently pushed his hair back away from his face. “You need a haircut.”

He arched a brow, incredulous. “I tell you I love you. I tell you I will stand by you forever and that’s what I get? ‘You need a haircut’?”

She made a face. “I did the confession thing last night.”

“You can say it more than once, you know.” Doubt suddenly darkened his eyes. “Or was that a limited-time offer?”

She bit her lip and slowly shook her head, threading her fingers through his hair. “No time limit.”

“Shay?”

“I love you, okay? You’re a piece of me. And if you mean it, about giving us a shot again, I promise I won’t fuck it up this time.”

His eyes lit, filling with that adoring look she’d been missing for years. The one she thought she’d killed. It was like sunshine, and her heart soaked up the rays.

“I mean it. And I won’t fuck it up either.”

“Good.” Better than good. Caleb loved her. Life didn’t get much better than that. She shot him an impish smile. “So now that we’re done with the mushy love crap, can we get on with the hot make-up sex?”

Caleb gave a short bark of laughter. He yanked her ankle and she slid down the rock and straight into his arms. Her arms wound around his neck and she smiled against his skin, breathing in the scent of her mate. Hers. And this one was forever. She was strong enough to keep him. And he was strong enough to keep her in line.

“If you’re a good boy, I might even let you tie me up,” she whispered darkly into his ear.

Epilogue

“I was thinking I might challenge Ava for mating rights to Landon. What do you think, hon?”

Caleb looked up from his sprawl on the rug and growled at her. The pair of cubs crawling all over their father quickly mimicked his growl with little mewling snarls of their own, prowling toward her on furry feet, with their tiny teeth bared.

Shana held up her hands in mock surrender. “A joke! Come on. At some point it has to become funny.”

He couldn’t have honestly thought she was serious. She was so pregnant with their second set of multiples—why couldn’t the man just impregnate her with a single child for a change?—she made Shamu look dainty.

Caleb rolled to his feet, his liquid grace making her mouth water. He lifted her out of the chair—Shamu belly and all—and sat, settling her back down in his lap. “The idea of you with someone else will never be funny,” he rumbled in her ear.

The twins attacked his ankles, but when he didn’t react, they quickly lost interest and went tumbling together across the floor.

“It’s ridiculous. By this point, we all know that the idea of me with anyone else is ridiculous, so it can be funny. Ha-ha. Get it?”

“You’re mine. End of story. Get it?”

Shana burrowed into his embrace, but still quietly grumbled, “At some point it will become funny.”

“Never.”

She tucked her face against his chest to hide her smile at his possessiveness. She wouldn’t want him to know how much she liked the way he owned her, heart, body and soul. No one owned goddesses.

But she didn’t need to be a goddess for Caleb to make her feel like one.

About the Author

To learn more about Vivi Andrews, please visit www.viviandrews.com. Send an email to [email protected] or stop by her blog at viviandrews.blogspot.com!

Look for these titles by Vivi Andrews

Now Available:

The Ghost Shrink, the Accidental Gigolo & the Poltergeist Accountant

Serengeti Heat

The Ghost Exterminator: A Love Story

Coming Soon:

The Sexorcist

In a choice between fight or flight, love makes the final decision.

In Plain Sight

© 2009 Marie Harte

A Cougar Falls Story

Cullen Whitefeather is Ac-taw –a fierce golden eagle shapeshifter. The ultimate predator, he doesn’t shy away from confrontation...unless it involves one tempting, smart-mouthed woman. The woman destined to be his mate. The woman who doesn’t even know he’s alive.

Sarah Duncan made one mistake years ago and hasn’t stopped paying for it since. Tired of the town’s treatment, she finally tells the truth about what really happened and pays a hard price. Her clan wants to silence her. Permanently.

Rescue comes from a completely unexpected source—Cullen, a man who can barely seem to string two sentences together. Yet his fierce protectiveness, compassion, and bewitching touch are worth more than a thousand words.

With Sarah so close, Cullen is losing his mind—and his heart. She says she wants to leave, and the raptors want her gone. But if there’s one thing Cullen’s good at, it’s a fight. And he’s not letting her go without one.

Warning: This book contains
explicit sex, a woman done wrong, birds of prey, sexy men who can’t talk to women, and red hot lovin’ that’ll make you wish you could fly.

Enjoy the following excerpt for In Plain Sight:

He baffled her. Who was Cullen Whitefeather? As much of a predator as he was, he hadn’t made a move on her until tonight. And he’d given her a room with a lock, as well as the only two keys to the door.

Cullen did his best to show her she was safe here, until she’d catch him watching her with those eagle eyes, eyes that missed nothing. Had he seen her unwilling attraction to him? Did he know how many times she’d gazed at his mouth, wondering how he’d kiss? She wasn’t sure if her eager response to him was the result of chemistry or an awakened need for physical intimacy.

She wished she had more to go by when it came to sexual experience. If she was half the slut she’d been painted to be, she’d have thrown him to the ground and jumped his bones. Instead, pathetic nobody that she was, Sarah blushed every time she caught him looking at her.

God, even her subconscious was confused. She’d spent the past few days dwelling on the innuendos about her sexual promiscuity, yet she lusted after the man who’d saved her.

Disgruntled that she couldn’t seem to dwell on anything without Cullen’s face clouding her thoughts, Sarah changed into the flannel pajamas she’d packed, turned out the light, and curled up in bed under the heavy blanket Cullen had given her. She should have been tired, but she couldn’t sleep.

She’d spent the day alternately reading and watching television. Cullen’s media room held a number of recent movie titles she’d wanted to see, and she’d filled the afternoon immersed in fantasy worlds where the hero took down the villain and got the girl in the end. A happy ending, at least for someone.

Watching such fantasy, Sarah had imagined Cullen in the lead role. The mysterious hero, so silent, so strong. Curiously, his quiet freed her from worry. She liked being around him. She couldn’t deny she loved looking at him, though she hoped she’d been a bit less obvious in her gawking than he’d been while staring at her. Cullen had a body made for sin, streamlined muscles that could cradle a wounded bird to his chest or lash out at an enemy in a heartbeat. His shoulder-length black hair looked so silky and fine. She wanted to run her fingers through it, to stroke him as she would a feathered bird. His eyes captivated. So dark one minute, so bright gold the next. He was like a wild animal held in thrall by magical means.