Chapter 24

Oz

Ihad one hand steady on the wheel as I steered the riverboat. The other hand was wrapped around Stella. My fingers dug into the curve of her hip. Gone was the shame. Guilt was a faint memory. I had nearly lost her. She would not slip through my hands again.

The rhythmic churning of the boat"s engine and the soft lap of the Mississippi River against its sides formed a soothing soundtrack to our moment of calm. Stella nuzzled into my neck like the cat that she was. Her warmth pressed against me as the night lifted its curtain and a new dawn greeted us.

Stella"s scent, that calming blend of lavender and vanilla, wafted up to my nostrils, mingling with the crisp, salty breeze that swept over the river. I breathed her in, taking a moment to do some of my own nuzzling in her hair. The color fascinated both man and panther. Her hair, a crown of ebony strands with golden highlights cascading down her back, was reminiscent of a leopard"s coat. Her locks tickled my chin as she nestled closer, her breath soft against my neck as she dozed.

Her eyes, closed in peaceful slumber, revealed nothing of the danger that had just passed, the near death experience we"d narrowly escaped from. And we weren"t out of danger yet.

Now, in addition to the vampires from the Crossroads chasing after her for her visions, I had to also guard against a pirate witch intent on draining her royal blood. I would"ve thought each supernatural would"ve wanted the other: the vamps her blood and the witch her foresight.

Didn"t matter. Neither would get so much as a fingernail from her so long as I breathed.

As the first light of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, a surge of protectiveness washed over me. I vowed to keep her safe, to shield her from the dangers of this world, until my last breath.

"Mmmh." The rumble was low in her throat, like a lover awaiting pleasure.

She moved to tilt back her head. The movement brought her bottom lip against the pulse in my throat. That spot I"d only ever shown to two people: my mother, who had clamped down on it, causing pain, and Dion, who"d told me to rise and then extended his hand in friendship.

My shoulders slumped, but as they did, they curled around Stella. She inhaled, her lips parting in a quiet gasp. The intake of air cooled the vulnerable spot on my neck. I ached for her to bite down there.

Her scent was all over me. I wanted her mark on me, too. I had been claimed body, mind, and soul by her. There wasn"t an inch of me that this woman—this goddess—didn"t own. Instead of biting me, she planted a lingering kiss at my pulse point.

The claws came out then. There was the sound of fabric being ripped. Looking down, I saw that the bottom of her blouse was in shreds. There was a tint of red on the pink—her blood.

I let go, holding my hands up in surrender. My fingertips were tinged with the evidence of my desire. "I"m sorry, Stella."

She shrugged, waving a hand over the ruined fabric. "I can fix it."

But she couldn"t. The shredded, unmendable thing wasn"t her clothing. It was me. "I don"t deserve you."

Stella leaned into me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, the fingers of one hand finding my nape. She kneaded the skin she found there. I"d seen this kind of behavior between parents and cubs, pack mates, and mated pairs alike. It was a sign of affection, of ownership. The feeling of it almost robbed me of my words. And then her words robbed me of all sense.

"I deserve you. I deserve a man who fights for me. A man who is honest with me even if the truth might hurt me."

"When did I hurt you?"

"You hurt me every time you try to put distance between us. Every time you try to push me away."

My claws came out again. I cursed as another rip of fabric rent the air. I couldn"t take care of this woman"s clothes. How could I be expected to take care of her heart?

"Fate has brought us together for a reason," she went on, waving her hand once again over the torn fabric, making it look like new. "I can mend my clothes. I can"t mend a broken heart if you reject me."

"Fate wouldn"t be so cruel a to pair a goddess like you with a man like me."

"I"ve dated criminals, liars, cheats, and users. You can"t be any worse than?—"

"How about a murderer?"

Her gulp was audible. Her right eye twitched as she studied me. That twitch was only for a second before her gaze steadied again. "You said you worked for the king as head of his security. You killed as part of your job?"

"My first kill was before the king took pity on me."

Now her claws dug into my shirt. It was her human nails. The pricks felt like her panther refusing to let go.

I took a deep breath, the weight of my past heavy on my shoulders. I opened my mouth and said the words as fast as I could before I lost my nerve. "When I was a cub, I killed my brother."

Her claws released my shirt. The loss of that tiny pinprick of pain felt like the exact opposite of relief. Her hands hovered in front of my heart. The organ thumped hard against my chest to reach its mistress.

"He was the runt, and I... I was stronger."

"The two of you fought?"

"No, never. He was my brother, my twin. I never lifted a hand to him."

"Then… how?"

"I was greedy and growing so fast. I suckled all of my mother"s milk, leaving nothing behind for him."

The confession felt like a wound reopening, raw and painful. I remembered the sight of my brother"s frail form. I"d only seen the color of his eyes a few times when they"d been open. They were a dull rust to my vibrant gold.

"You"re a shifter. Your mother could have given him other sustenance."

Stella was still trying to rationalize my actions, still trying to make me out to be a hero. She refused to see the villain that I was.

"We were born in our panther form. He couldn"t shift into a human. He was too weak. He wouldn"t take any other form of sustenance. And he died. It was all my fault."

"You were a baby, barely cognizant. It was not your fault. He had two grown, adult parents."

I shook my head. Dion had said the same thing to me when I"d told him my shame. I"d shut him down, gone mute as he continued to protest. He"d never brought it up again.

My father had succumbed to madness before we were born. The Call of the Wild had claimed not only his body but shifted his mind to madness.

"My mother... she rejected me after that. I was alone, a lone panther, until King Dion found me. He saved me, gave me purpose. I owe him my life."

"Then I owe him, too, for saving your life so that you could find me."

"I just told you I was a murderer."

Stella made a dismissive sound in the back of her throat. She waved her hands in the air as though she was tailoring my words. "I"ve dated murderers. I grew up in the Crossroads. Don"t judge me, and I won"t judge you."

She pointed a pink-tipped nail at me when I opened my mouth. I shut it mutely. Mainly because I wanted to hear her words. I wanted her words to absolve me.

"My point is you don"t feel like a murderer to me. You don"t have that dead look in your eyes. Your nostrils don"t flare when you see an easy target." Stella"s hand found mine, her touch gentle and reassuring. "Your mother should"ve taken better care of both of you. That"s a mother"s responsibility. When I meet her, I"m going to have words with her."

"She"s dead."

"Oh. I"m sorry." She bit her lip like she was trying to hold in the next words. She quickly lost that battle. "But also good riddance if she made her baby think her neglect made him a murderer."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, a longing I didn"t realize I had.

"I"ve changed my mind, Oz."

Stella had been holding my hands. She let go now. Her arms crossed over her chest. That regal nose went into the air in a show of defiance.

"I"m not going to share you. I want to be the only woman who gets access to your body and the sole caretaker of your heart."