Page 20 of A Lion's Heart
They would attempt to hold him down again. No doubt resorting to the drug he detested because no matter how big and strong they thought they were, they were no match for his shifter strength. That, among other things, was what they feared most. That the shifters were an elite species, one that could wipe the humans out at any moment. Despite his upbringing and their tribe’s teachings, Decan wasn’t so sure that was a bad idea.
“Stand up and face the wall!” the first one yelled.
They wore all green, a darker tone from the military fatigues he’d been used to seeing when he was a soldier. It had been four years since then, he knew because he’d been keeping count using his claw to scrape each day along the concrete walls that surrounded him. He didn’t move when they commanded. He never did. And they were too afraid to touch him. Scared that his shifter DNA would rub off on them. Idiots.
“Up! Now!” the man yelled again, this time using a baton to poke into Decan’s ribs.
If he pressed the button at the other end, electric volts would shoot through the baton and ravage Decan’s body. It was painful and only served to anger the lion that had already been awakened inside of him. To avoid the worsening of this scenario, if at all possible, Decan stood slowly this time, but he did not turn his back to them. He would never voluntarily turn his back to another human again. That was what led him here in the first place.
He looked directly in the man’s dark eyes without blinking and stood with his hands at his sides, fists already clenched and at the ready. He’d fought them each time they’d come to him since that first night, because he wasn’t an animal to be caged and mistreated, regardless of what they thought.
“Get the chains, tie him to the wall,” another one behind the first man suggested.
Decan heard the chains but did not take his eyes off the one standing in front of him. He was the leader. The way in which he stood with his legs slightly spread, the baton in one hand, his other resting atop the gun at his hip. He didn’t wear any stripes or other military commendations, which didn’t surprise Decan. The world had changed since he’d served. In fact, it had changed since the Unveiling. There was an air of lawlessness now with law enforcement officials and these militant goons who dedicated all their time and attention to one issue: the Shadow Shifters.
“He broke through them the last time,” another—smarter human—had replied.
“Do it!” the second man yelled.
The leader held up a hand to impatiently stop the noise behind him.
“If he cooperates there will be no need for chains,” he said while keeping his gaze on Decan.
Then he boldly stepped closer.
“Do you understand that, cat?” he asked in a voice full of disdain. And carefully masked fear.
“If you tell me what I want to know, I won’t beat you like the worthless animal you are.”
Decan didn’t move or reply. The beatings didn’t scare him. And he wasn’t going to pull that gun out and shoot him until he was certain he was dead. Because they needed him for something. Decan hadn’t figured out what, but their impatience was growing, which meant his resistance was getting to them. Decan couldn’t find it in his heart to be a bit sorry about that fact.
“Now, where is your leader? Where is Roman Reynolds? Where is the one setting all the fires?” he asked, baring his crooked teeth.
He’d been to Oasis in the months after his honorable discharge from the Marines. Visiting with his family had been a delight. Seeing the place in which all of his kind had been forced to live was not. Oasis was Roman Reynolds’ idea. Decan did not agree with it.
Decan did not reply.
The question came one more time. When he still remained silent, the leader gave a nod and the four that had been standing eagerly behind him, came forward with their tasers and batons and yet another battle had begun. All the while his lion remained unseen. Decan had given them that pleasure and eventually pain before. He’d sworn never to do it again. He could fight them just as long and fiercely in his human form. That was something else they hated. His resilience and his strength. They hated it because they couldn’t match it. And he hated them because—according to the laws of the Ètica which still bound the Shadow Shifters regardless of their new circumstances—he was not supposed to kill them. One slip was enough to have guilt choking him on a daily basis. Another, might kill him. If these hate-filled humans didn’t manage to do so first.
Hours later she came to him, as they always allowed her to. The prostitute who had glimpsed his Serfin tattoo the night he’d hired her, and had immediately called the Outlaw Task Force. The group of law enforcement officials—or hunters were more like it—were formed to search for and dispose of any and all shifters. Armed guards had kicked in the door and crashed through the windows of the hotel room where Decan had asked the woman to meet him. They’d used some type of gas to knock him out before carrying him to the secret Shifter Isolation Camp located in the deserts of Arizona.
“Easy baby, Marlee’s right here,” she would say as she climbed over him, sliding down until the already slick walls of her pussy grabbed his cock and held on until he could not contain his release any longer.
Decan’s eyes shot open. He was lying in a bed. Not on the cold cement floor of the SIC where he’d been held for nine long years. The air he breathed was free of the stench of sweat, smoke and sex. He still wore his pants, but his chest was bare and his shoes were off. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm the man and beast that had not experienced this particular dream in a long time. Not since a new scent had begun to fill his senses upon waking. The new scent wasn’t just in his memory this time. It was close and it was real. Each time since the quarterly meeting six months ago—the day he’d first seen Nisa—he’d awakened from the dreams of Marlee riding him to a thunderous climax, with the Assembly Leader’s daughter’s scent permeating the air.
Tonight was no different. No, that wasn’t correct. It was different because he had more to go with just her scent. He’d kissed her and he’d touched her. He didn’t need to close his eyes or fall asleep to recall the feel of her tongue against his and the moist heat that surrounded his fingers as they’d pressed deep inside of her. The memories were fresh and potent and they were the reason his cock was rock hard at this moment. Not the dream and certainly not anything that happened in that dream. Marlee had never solicited this type of desire from him. And no matter how many times the idiot humans running the SIC thought they would be the first to claim a human pregnant with a shifter’s seed, they were wrong. There had never been any fear of Marlee becoming pregnant because a Shadow Shifter could only reproduce with itscompanheiro. And Decan was certain that Marlee was not the woman he was destined to be with for all time. There was no such woman for him.
As if she knew he’d been thinking of her, Nisa moved. Her arm falling over his waist, her leg settling between his. Her breath was warm against his arm and for an instant Decan considered moving so that he could have her head lying on his bare chest. He would hold her tight and revel in the idea that she was so close and at the moment so unguarded with him. But that wouldn’t last. He knew that and thus decided it was futile to even try.
Decan let his eyes close slowly as he tried to clear his mind of her and focus on tomorrow and the next day. But her hand moved again, this time lower on his abs. It was warm, or was that just him? Her fingers were still and then they weren’t, curling so that the sharp tip of her nails scraped over his skin. The quick jolt of pain should have taken him to that dark place where he came out swinging and asked questions later. Instead, this time, it did the opposite. It warmed him until he almost forgot everything else.
The low hum of his cat vibrated through his body and as if it were speaking directly to her cat, she pressed closer to him and moaned. Her nails moved like spikes down his stomach and over the buckle of his pants. She cupped his erection and squeezed. Decan growled.
In the next seconds he was moving, flipping her over and onto her back. If she looked startled when her eyes opened and she stared up at him, he dismissed it. The lion and its need were in charge now and he was following its lead, pushing her shirt up until her breasts were bared before him. His mouth covered a nipple while his palm flattened over the other breast.
She held the back of his head, her fingers going into his hair, nails scraping his scalp. He sucked hungrily, totally enamored by the tight nipple and the soft malleable flesh. But it wasn’t enough. With both hands on her breasts now, Decan went lower, tracing a heated path down her torso with his tongue. His mind was on one thing claiming this scent that had been taunting him once and for all.
Nisa, apparently had other ideas.
