and she owed him whatever promise he needed. “All right. I won’t mess things up more for you.”
Bron’s cabin looked to be newly built in the middle of a clearing in the woods. A long, gravel drive led to a newly mowed meadow where Dillon parked the truck. Stacks of lumber still sat in piles near the house and a man stood on the porch, arms crossed and looking every bit as pissed as Thomas had earlier.
Dillon muttered an oath and told her to, “Wait there,” again.
He took his time about opening her door and took her hand in his warm grasp as he led her toward the cabin. A motorcycle sat right near a black pickup, and another man emerged from the shadows of the porch to grip the railing and watch their approach. Breshia squinted at the familiar silhouette. It was definitely Logan, and this shit storm was about to get a little bigger.
If Dillon noticed his presence, he apparently didn’t care, because his approach to the porch never faltered.
“This her?” the angry man asked. It must’ve been Bronson Cress.
“Yes, and before you tear into her, you should know—”
“You don’t fucking talk, Dillon. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
Dillon spun her and pulled her shirt up in the back so fast, she gasped. “What was I supposed to do, Bron? They were going to breed her against her will.”
“Shit,” Logan said, his triceps flexing as he gripped the porch railing. “Who?”
She drew a shaky breath. “Thomas.”
The railing creaked under Logan’s tightening grasp.
“Explain this,” Bron demanded.
“Last year, the Chicago pride started pushing genetic testing,” Logan said, shifting his weight as if he were uncomfortable with the subject. “There’re so few lion shifters left, we had to start worrying about inbreeding. When I left, we were still challenging for breeding rights, but if the Portland pride started genetic testing, they would be choosing who is paired up and with whom. Sounds like Breshia here got the short end of the stick, and was slated to be bred by my brother.”
“Why are you here?” Bron asked. “And if I hear a single false note in your confession, I promise you, you’ll regret it.”
“Okay,” she squeaked out. “My heat cycle is starting soon, and Thomas was already hurting me. I haven’t been bred before and another lioness interrupted what he was doing.”
“Who?” Logan asked.
“Shay. She was bred by Thomas and said he hurt her. She helped me to get away, and it was her who suggested I come to the Seven Devils clan to beg sanctuary.”
“Why does Shira need you so badly,” Bron asked in a softer tone.
“Because besides Shay, I’m the only one who came up as a viable breeder right now, and they want numbers. There’s only one cub in the pride, Samuel, and he’s a male. They’ll breed Shay as soon as she has another heat cycle.”
Logan was standing with his mouth open in disgust as he rubbed his short, dark hair over and over again. “Tell me you aren’t here for my child, Breshia. Tell me they didn’t send you to spy, or to take my child.”
“I wouldn’t ever take your child. I was Samuel’s caretaker, but it should’ve always been Shay. You and Muriel are doing right by your baby, raising her yourselves.”
“True, true, true, all fucking true and what the hell am I supposed to do with this?” Bron asked. “I can’t argue she’s telling the truth. We can all hear it, but she’ll bring a war we can’t afford.”
“Bron,” came a feminine voice from the shadows of a porch. A woman stood from one of the rocking chairs and came to stand beside the alpha. “You can’t send her back to that. You know what’ll happen to her. It’s not in you to turn your back on a woman who’s at risk like that.”
Bron’s eyes blazed silver and he clenched his fists. “My people are more important than the comfort of one lioness.”
Logan stepped down the stairs with the most curious expression on his face. Without a word, he
Bron’s cabin looked to be newly built in the middle of a clearing in the woods. A long, gravel drive led to a newly mowed meadow where Dillon parked the truck. Stacks of lumber still sat in piles near the house and a man stood on the porch, arms crossed and looking every bit as pissed as Thomas had earlier.
Dillon muttered an oath and told her to, “Wait there,” again.
He took his time about opening her door and took her hand in his warm grasp as he led her toward the cabin. A motorcycle sat right near a black pickup, and another man emerged from the shadows of the porch to grip the railing and watch their approach. Breshia squinted at the familiar silhouette. It was definitely Logan, and this shit storm was about to get a little bigger.
If Dillon noticed his presence, he apparently didn’t care, because his approach to the porch never faltered.
“This her?” the angry man asked. It must’ve been Bronson Cress.
“Yes, and before you tear into her, you should know—”
“You don’t fucking talk, Dillon. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”
Dillon spun her and pulled her shirt up in the back so fast, she gasped. “What was I supposed to do, Bron? They were going to breed her against her will.”
“Shit,” Logan said, his triceps flexing as he gripped the porch railing. “Who?”
She drew a shaky breath. “Thomas.”
The railing creaked under Logan’s tightening grasp.
“Explain this,” Bron demanded.
“Last year, the Chicago pride started pushing genetic testing,” Logan said, shifting his weight as if he were uncomfortable with the subject. “There’re so few lion shifters left, we had to start worrying about inbreeding. When I left, we were still challenging for breeding rights, but if the Portland pride started genetic testing, they would be choosing who is paired up and with whom. Sounds like Breshia here got the short end of the stick, and was slated to be bred by my brother.”
“Why are you here?” Bron asked. “And if I hear a single false note in your confession, I promise you, you’ll regret it.”
“Okay,” she squeaked out. “My heat cycle is starting soon, and Thomas was already hurting me. I haven’t been bred before and another lioness interrupted what he was doing.”
“Who?” Logan asked.
“Shay. She was bred by Thomas and said he hurt her. She helped me to get away, and it was her who suggested I come to the Seven Devils clan to beg sanctuary.”
“Why does Shira need you so badly,” Bron asked in a softer tone.
“Because besides Shay, I’m the only one who came up as a viable breeder right now, and they want numbers. There’s only one cub in the pride, Samuel, and he’s a male. They’ll breed Shay as soon as she has another heat cycle.”
Logan was standing with his mouth open in disgust as he rubbed his short, dark hair over and over again. “Tell me you aren’t here for my child, Breshia. Tell me they didn’t send you to spy, or to take my child.”
“I wouldn’t ever take your child. I was Samuel’s caretaker, but it should’ve always been Shay. You and Muriel are doing right by your baby, raising her yourselves.”
“True, true, true, all fucking true and what the hell am I supposed to do with this?” Bron asked. “I can’t argue she’s telling the truth. We can all hear it, but she’ll bring a war we can’t afford.”
“Bron,” came a feminine voice from the shadows of a porch. A woman stood from one of the rocking chairs and came to stand beside the alpha. “You can’t send her back to that. You know what’ll happen to her. It’s not in you to turn your back on a woman who’s at risk like that.”
Bron’s eyes blazed silver and he clenched his fists. “My people are more important than the comfort of one lioness.”
Logan stepped down the stairs with the most curious expression on his face. Without a word, he
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