The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 82: Chapter 82

Oh no.
Kylie’s she-Tiger had grown very still when the Pride Beta came to find her. Brayden had smiled, trying to appear smaller and gentle, which for the enormous Black Bear Shifter, was fucking impossible.
He did not want to frighten her, and she appreciated that, but it was no use. Kylie was afraid, but it had nothing to do with Brayden.
They found me. I have to leave.
It was the only thing that made any sense. Kylie looked around the room, taking a panicked gulp of air. She almost choked on it. Closing her eyes, she tried to slow down her breathing.
Leaving town held no appeal, not at all, but what else could she do? Kylie was never going back there, no matter what bullshit they pulled.
“Kylie?” Michael asked, and the sound of his voice caused her heart to constrict.
Still trying to calm down, she didn’t reply. Kylie just couldn’t. She was not strong enough to deal with whatever it was between them. Her foolish attraction to the gorgeous male had been a thorn in her side for months now, but luckily, she had resisted the urge to jump his bones.
You call that lucky?
Her she-Cat grunted her disagreement. The animal was pissed beyond reason that she had refused to acknowledge exactly what the male was to her.
And just what is that?
Kylie asked her beast angrily, but she already knew, and the knowledge broke her heart.
Mate.
“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Michael roared the question, and she felt his anguish cutting her like a knife. His voice was filled with so much force, she trembled, but not in fear.
Her eyes snapped open, and she found him instantly, already naturally attuned to him. He was the one man she never wanted to witness her humiliation, but of course, as part of the Honor Guard, he was standing amongst them.
The Neta chuffed, using his Alpha powers to calm the angry Healer. But why should he even care? He wanted her, she knew that, but sex had nothing to do with the pure rage on his face.
There it was the true predator behind the Healer’s mask. Michael Turner practically vibrated with anger and anxiety had her inner Cat demanding she go to him, but she remained rooted to the spot. Kylie’s heart pounded as she looked from Hunter to the Healer, and back again.
He can’t be here. Not now.
But all her silent pleading wouldn’t make him disappear. Michael Turner looked around the room for an answer to his bellowed question. His body shook with anger and outrage, and it was all her fault.
Shit.
Kylie was so not prepared for this. Her stomach flipped and her pulse raced. Whatever anxiety she felt dwindled in the face of her raging arousal for this male. Dammit, she could not control herself she realized with a start.
Her nipples hardened, stomach tightened, and her sex grew hot and wet at the picture he made. The usually staid male exuded power and emotion. He was more than just your average larger than life dominant male Shifter. Michael was educated and refined. A doctor, who had the honor of being the Pride’s Healer, who was trusted and liked by all.
He was a good friend, not that she took time to get to know him personally. But Kylie had heard the females speaking highly of him, and she had to learn to ignore the ones who often drooled over the ridiculously hot man.
Michael was gorgeous. He had the same muscular physique most Shifters had, but unique to him was his ability to put anyone and everyone at ease in his presence. Not typical for such a powerful Tiger to accomplish. But necessary. She imagined he would find it difficult to care for people if they were scared shitless in his presence.
Still, good traits aside, Kylie had carefully avoided him. She’d expected he was a little full of himself what with his proper education and all. Especially when compared to her back country home-schooled learning.
She was not stupid, but she couldn’t help but worry about how he would take her lack of formal education. Would he sneer or make fun? Many had.
No, her she-Tiger insisted.
Mate.
Kylie ignored her beast. She could never take a mate. That would require too much of her. She could not let her guard down. Not ever.
Whatever this was, whatever was happening now, this conversation was not for his ears. Kylie frowned, an angry hiss slipped out of her mouth. She wanted to run away and scream at the injustice of it all, but she stayed put. Rooted to the spot.
What would he think after he heard her story? Would he still look at her with those smoldering dark eyes if he knew her own mother wanted her dead?
Would he think her a little nothing of a person if she told him the only learning she had was at the hands of her dead father who’d taught her to read and basic mathematics?
What would he say if she told him her mother had killed her father, the only person who ever cared about Kylie, who gave her books, and little else, because it was all he had to give?
She shuddered at the thought of seeing even the smallest fraction of revulsion in those decadent dark eyes of his. Kylie refused to be cowed down and made to feel ashamed of her past. It was not like she could help it.
Kylie had tried to overcome her upbringing. She had taught herself everything she knew about sewing out of necessity when she was just a kid. A growing girl with no money for clothes, she did what she had to in order to keep herself covered.
Do not look ashamed, her Tiger told her. Look how far you’ve come.
She knew she should be proud of her success with Kisses By Kylie and her upcoming Mommies By Kylie. She had turned into a shrewd businesswoman, and could now boast a steady stream of income, which was more money than anyone in her entire former Pride could claim.
Still, there was that tiny fear that she wasn’t good enough. And that truly sucked.
Michael Turner.
She closed her eyes against his questioning gaze. He was the one man she couldn’t seem to get out of her head no matter what she did, and now, he would have a front row seat to witness all her past humiliations.
On the bright side, she wouldn’t have to wonder how he felt anymore. It would be painfully obvious once her secrets were exposed, and wish as she might, Kylie was powerless to stop it. She took one more moment to admire his physical perfection.
Michael was taller than her by more than a foot, and twice as wide. He was positively enormous, even for a Tiger Shifter. The rippling muscles of his arms and pecs gave way to washboard abs and powerful legs.
She had always loved a man with strong thighs, and if she were being honest, Michael’s were thicker than any rugby player’s she ever saw.
Yummmm.
Kylie knew she was cute, even though she was plenty plump. She’d never been tall. In fact, she was downright tiny when it came to height. Of course, her ample hips, large breasts, and soft belly made up for what she lacked in height. She had clear skin and bright eyes, full lips too. But none of that could make up for her past.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she stood, front and center, in the closed in office. The energy in the room seemed to be all over the place in terms of emotion. Mostly, she felt his questioning glare and rising anger.
If only she could find the nerve to answer him. At the moment, her she-Tiger was pushing against her skin. The she-Cat wanted closer to the tall, sexy as sin man.
Mate, her inner she-Tiger growled softly.
The beast inside of her recognized him as her one and only fated mate, but Kylie couldn’t go there. She could never go there.
“They know where I am?” she addressed Hunter, ignoring the pleading look on Michael’s handsome face.
“Yes.”
“I see. How long do I have?”
“Dear, I think you should sit down, and explain to everyone the circumstances that brought you here.”
She turned to Uncle Uzzi, listening to his clearly spoken words, but not really hearing him. Kylie looked at the elderly Witch, whose piercing blue eyes seemed to see right through her.
“I don’t see why,” she said honestly, and she didn’t.
“Because, my sweet child,” Uncle Uzzi began, his expression one of deep sympathy. “They deserve to know.”
That seemed simple enough, she supposed. The Shifters in the room had risked a lot by taking her in. She should tell them the truth. Even if it hurt like all get out.
“Please, come and sit.” Uncle Uzzi gestured to an empty chair, but Kylie made no move to sit down.
Nerves had her sucking in a deep breath before slowly exhaling. Where to start? That was always the problem, wasn’t it? She supposed the beginning really was the best place.
“I grew up in a small, poor Pride in South Carolina, the Sharp Claw Pride,” Kylie began.
She tried to remain detached but felt herself slip slowly into the past. Her gaze settled on a corner of the room where sunlight filtered through the blinds. She watched the dust motes floating in the air, not even minding when her South Carolina accent came out full force as she told her story to the room.
“Life was okay at first, if a little unorthodox. My father and mother were not married or mated in any traditional sense. You see, Daddy was too low in the hierarchy to suit the female who gave birth to me. My mother was the daughter of the Neta. She came into power, ruling the Pride as Nari when I was just a baby—Funny, I don’t ever remember her not being in charge. She ran things with an iron fist back then, I imagine she still does. Our little backwoods town, more like a holler really, had no school, no stores, and we were strongly discouraged from mixing with normals in neighboring towns. To the outside world, we looked like some religious cult or ex-hippie commune. I suppose. But that was that⁠—”
Kylie paused and cleared her throat, remembering the early days when she didn’t know about the kind of cruelty that fed her Pride.
“Summers were plenty hot, and we were so damn poor, but we had blue skies and green fields and Daddy had taught me to fish in a nearby creek. I lived with my father until he was, well, you can imagine. Anyway, there was an old wise woman in the Pride who could tell if one of us was gonna shift or not, and my mother waited. She had to determine whether I would have the gift before I was deemed worthy of her attention. How I prayed I would be a normal,” Kylie explained, closing her eyes, her voice catching on the last word.
“Go on,” coaxed Hunter when her nerves threatened to strangle her.
She looked at the Neta, then stole a glance at Michael, seeking comfort where she had no right to expect it.
Damn it, but the man seemed to know. He moved a step closer to her, and the heat from his body warmed her suddenly chilled skin. She cleared her throat again and continued.
“Her Queen’s Guard came for me one hot afternoon. They took me to the Pride House and locked me in a small room in the cellar. My father was taken away too, but I didn’t know where until much later. I was given food and water and bathroom privileges. I had no friends, and like the other few cubs of the Pride, I was not allowed to go to school. Thankfully, I had already learned to read at my father’s knee, and eventually, I was given an old, battered eReader by one of the kinder males who were assigned to watch me. I had to keep it secret. Charging it by day. Reading only at night.”
She smiled at the memory, a tear rolling down her face at the thought of what had happened to that kind male. Gene was his name.
“When I had my first shift, my mother came for me. She did not even say a word, simply walked me to my father’s cell where she forced me to watch while she attacked him viciously. He’d been half-starved and was too weak to fend her off. She sliced his throat open with her claws, and he bled to death in front of me,” she recalled, her voice a dull monotone. She betrayed no emotion, having cried too many tears to have any left now.
How many times had she relived the horrible moment when her only loving parent had been taken from her?
Too many.
Dammit, she’d been such a fool to think she’d actually gotten away.
“My mother’s Queen’s Guard took me away after I had spent Lord knows how long with my father’s broken and bloodied body. They brought me to the circle where she broke her enemies. There, she had me tied to stakes driven into the dry ground and I was beaten,” she continued, ignoring the sharp intake of breath that came from just about everyone in the small space.
“It wasn’t long before she stopped it, rejoicing at how easy it was to break me then. I was twelve, and I was small. I knew nothing about fighting. The men took me back to my room and a new guard was placed at the door. Our Healer wasn’t called until much later and by then the worst injuries had healed, but the bones were not set right. He had to re-break my hand just so I could hold a fork⁠—”
A snarl nearby had her bringing her head up where she met a pair of familiar and fierce dark eyes. They were glowing amber with his beast.
“It’s alright,” she said, wanting to comfort the owner of those eyes. “After that, I was pretty much ignored for the next few years. Later, my mother formed an alliance with a nearby rogue streak and married their leader. He was kind, my stepfather. At least, he was to me. That’s probably why she killed him next,” she lamented.
“Corinne Connelly, Nari of the Sharp Claw Pride defeated him in hand to hand combat, but Jacob Pitt was harder to kill than my Daddy. His former streak, having been ingratiated into the Pride, were outraged, and came after my mother,” she said.
“Corinne was a smart woman though. She knew she couldn’t defeat three enormous males at once, so she offered them something better. My mother offered to form a marriage alliance with one of them. She was gonna let them pick one of their own, and that male would get to be her mate,” Kylie’s voice stuck as she recalled the next round of events with a shudder.
“What happened then?” Brayden, a Bear Shifter who also happened to be her friend Jessica’s mate and the Pride Beta, interrupted.
“One of them laughed, and that cost him an ear,” she continued, detachedly.
If Kylie could pretend those horrible things had happened to someone else, it would be easy, she figured.
“The others had a better plan. They told her since she was no longer able to bear cubs that she should offer them someone else. Someone who carried her Alpha blood but was younger.”
The horror of their words still haunted her to this day. Fear and loathing made her shudder, and she was grateful when someone handed her a bottle of cold water. She looked up to say thank you but could not utter a word. Michael’s face was composed, but his eyes were those of his beast.
The Tiger was barely contained, but for some reason Kylie did not fear him. Her own she-Cat rose inside, and the look that sizzled between them seemed to last for an eternity.