Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

CAGE

C age started to give in. The need to be with her, to claim her as his own was unbearable and almost overwhelming. Willow might think she knew what she wanted, but there was so much about him—who he was, what he was—that she didn't know, couldn't know. Willow moaned and pressed her soft curves against the hard planes of his body. She fit like she'd been made for him. Would her pussy accommodate his size? Could she deal with a bear in full rut? Bear-shifters were known to be almost insatiable when they first claimed a mate, wanting to keep them all to themselves and being willing to kill anyone who tried to interfere. Females often left the ‘den' after the rut barely able to walk. The human part of his brain told him he should feel ashamed of that; the bear within roared in approval and anticipation.

He tasted her lips one more time, whispering kisses along her jaw and down her throat, nuzzling her and rumbling seductively. Cage had no doubt Willow would have surrendered herself willingly to him. His cock stiffened and pressed hard against the fly of his trousers, throbbing against her belly. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, and he wanted to get drunk on her and never get sober again.

"Cage," she moaned, rubbing herself against him.

"Sir?" asked Harris on the other side of the gate.

Cage broke off the kiss, setting Willow away from him, shaking his head as if to dislodge all thoughts of his need for her and focusing instead on keeping her safe.

"Harris?"

"You asked me to summon the two of you when foood was ready. It is."

Willow started to say something—scathing he was sure—and he covered her mouth. She bit down on his hand, and he swatted her backside with the other one. She yelped and released the hand she'd held between her teeth. He pressed her into the wall, keeping her mouth covered.

"Thank you, Harris. I'll escort Ms. Carlyle up to her room to get dressed and we'll be in the dining room within half an hour."

"I'll let the cook know."

They listened as Harris walked away.

"That's it? They ring the food bell, and you're done? You're a jackass, Weston."

Willow turned on her heel, pushed him out of the way, opened the gate, and headed to her room.

"You'd be lucky if I was just a jackass," he muttered under his breath as he examined his hand. There were little droplets of blood. The little minx had broken his skin with her sharp teeth and was even now licking her lips. Knowing that could add an element of danger when it came time to have her suck his cock.

He walked across the courtyard to the keep, washed his hands, and went to stand just inside the dining room. When Willow entered, she looked beautiful in a pair of leggings and a loose silk-knit sweater. She was barefoot and had pulled her hair back. He longed to be alone with her and see her naked with her hair hanging down. He could easily imagine her coming to sit in his lap as he fed her by hand.

Dinner was a strained affair. Willow moved his place setting to the other end of the table and managed to eat her dinner without ever looking up or saying a word. She rose just as silently and retreated to her room as quickly as she could.

Later that evening, Cage sat at his desk, his fingers drumming a restless beat against the wooden surface. His thoughts were a chaotic tangle, swirling around his brain like a storm he couldn't control. He realized he'd been reduced to immature fits of jealousy and rage whenever anyone approached her. He rationalized his behavior by telling himself it was because he needed to protect Willow. But he knew it was a lie. His bear wanted Willow and was going to do everything in its power to see that no one laid claim to his fated mate.

There hadn't been any movement from any quarter in weeks, yet he still felt on edge. He reviewed the security reports and checked in with his people. He picked up his phone and put a call through to Colby. They needed to discuss Willow's case, and Cage hoped the lynx-shifter could provide him with some clarity.

"Cage," Colby greeted him warmly.

"Colby." Cage returned, not sure how he was going to get to the heart of this conversation.

"What's the status? Has something happened?" Colby's voice was steady, always a rock in the storm.

Cage sighed. The time for pretense, at least with his boss, was over. "We had a little visit from some of Carlyle's people…"

"Why am I just hearing about this now," growled Colby.

"Because it was little more than exercise to test our defenses—at least that's what it was from our side. We had minor injuries. Carlyle on the other hand will think twice before hitting us again. We've been hearing chatter that the Shadow League has ramped up their efforts to locate Willow and kill her."

"Do you think the intel is credible?"

"Most likely. We've found a couple of mercenaries in different locations where we left breadcrumbs, hoping to see if that very thing would happen. She's definitely not in the clear—at least not yet."

Colby was silent for a moment before asking, "What's really bothering you, Cage? You sound off."

Cage hesitated. Bears by nature were loners. Bear-shifters were only slightly more sociable. All of his instincts screamed that he needed to keep his feelings to himself, but he was at his wit's end. "I… I'm struggling. It's Willow. I can't stop thinking about her, and it's beginning to affect my judgment. I don't want to lose my focus, but she's driving me to distraction. She's also married. I know he's a bastard, but she's still married to him."

To his surprise, Colby laughed. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Not to worry. We already have the authorities working on getting her a divorce. Interpol is all-in, as so many courts won't allow a wife to testify against her husband, so they want that marriage ended."

"Can they do that?"

Colby chuckled. "They're Interpol; they can do just about anything, and what they can't, I can. He'll either be divorced or dead very soon. As for the whole human-bear thing, that isn't really a problem. In fact, it could actually be a solution."

Cage frowned. "How do you figure that?"

"Didn't you tell me you thought she was your fated mate? You're a bear, aren't you? Claim the girl, and be done with it."

"Brie off on some operation you don't know about?" That was a stab in the dark, but it made sense. For one thing Colby would never be so cavalier about claiming a mate—especially a human—without full and informed consent.

"She is, but that's my problem, not yours. I've given this a lot of thought, and if you claim Willow and she transitions to a bear, that significantly reduces the chances of her telling the non-shifter world that we exist. Plus, it bonds her to you in a way that makes her safer. You'll have a bonding link in case someone figures out a way to spirit her away from there. As for the League, I think they've learned better than to mess with a grizzly bear-shifter's mate."

Cage shook his head, even though Colby couldn't see it. "It feels manipulative. I don't want that to be how our relationship starts."

Colby chuckled before continuing in a softened tone. "I get it, Cage. I do. But you know I'm right, and we've both been around enough shifters who torture themselves trying to keep themselves apart from their fated mates. At the very least, you need to have the conversation with her. She deserves to know the truth about you, about us. You might be surprised at how she reacts."

"Colby," someone said from Colby's end of the call. "The plane is ready."

"Look, Cage, I need to go. Trust me when I tell you that bonding link is pure gold. My mate may have slipped away from the abbey, but I can track her down, fetch her back, and make sure she stays safe."

"I would think her people in the Shadow Sisters would want that, as well."

"You'd think, but you'd be wrong. They're all about the sisterhood and I am woman, hear me roar. Whatever you do, don't let Willow join up with them. They're incredibly effective in derailing the Shadow League's various operations and getting females of all kinds out of harm's way, but it's hell to be mated to one of them."

"Good luck," Cage said.

"Same to you. I have to go."

"Go be a hero and save your mate. Maybe she'll throw herself into your arms…"

"Maybe, but not likely," Colby chuckled. "Claim the girl. It's safest for all of us."

Colby ended the call before Cage could respond. Colby had to have known there was no way Brie could have overheard the conversation. If she had, most likely she'd have kicked Colby's nuts back up into his body cavity. Brie was mean like that—but she was also incredibly sexy.

After hanging up, Cage leaned back in his chair, mulling over Colby's words. How was he supposed to have that conversation? How was he even supposed to start it? Should he just shift and let her see that he was a bear? Did he take her to bed and fuck her until she couldn't move and then tell her?

He didn't want to frighten her, but the need to claim her as his own was becoming the only thing that mattered to him. At this point, maybe having her close would allow him to focus better on his job. Or maybe that was his bear just trying to get her into their bed.

WILLOW

Willow Carlyle watched from the shadows of the hidden wine vault, too terrified to move.

Three men had come to see Frank. Like him, they had been dressed in expensive, handmade suits, Italian shoes, and silk ties. The fact that her husband, the notorious arms dealer LaFaucheuse , appeared to be frightened not only made her curious, but she had to admit it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter—and not in a bad way. She knew that was wrong, but the fact was, people feared Frank, not the other way around.

Frank was the only person she'd ever been truly afraid of, and he was now being terrorized and beaten by something she couldn't explain. It was usually her husband Frank who did the torturing, terrorizing, and murdering, but this time he was the victim and not the perpetrator.

"You do not give orders to the Shadow League," said the thug as he slammed his fist into Frank's cheekbone, which made an awful cracking noise.

The frightening part wasn't so much that a goon who was much younger, taller, and more muscular than her husband was beating on him. It was what had come immediately before the beating had begun that had terrified her down to the marrow of her bones. The three men had entered the room, and one of them had restrained Frank from behind while the other gagged him. Then the man who was now bloodying both his fists and Frank's face had been enveloped by some kind of weird, localized swirling mist, from which a silverback gorilla had emerged. The gorilla had cuffed Frank viciously once and had then been surrounded by the maelstrom and somehow miraculously switched back to a human—a very naked human. That had been enough to stun her into silence, but she'd had to bite her fist to remain thus.

Willow had accepted that her husband had long ago lost interest in her as anything other than something to be dangled on his arm. For a long time, she had been willing to turn a blind eye to his illegal dealings. But then one night, she'd witnessed him supervising dumping deformed carcasses off their yacht in the Aegean Sea—some of whom hadn't been dead. She'd feigned ignorance once again, but she wasn't sure Frank believed her. It was then she had begun to amass information on his dealings and evidence against him.

Finally, Willow had managed to reach out to an old friend, Katie O'Neill, who had arranged a meeting with someone she thought could help. They were to meet later on tonight. If she could stay alive long enough to slip away, she might survive the night.

"Do you hear me LaFaucheuse? You work for the Shadow League, not the other way around." The man's fists punctuated his words.

Frank nodded, trying to plead through the gag. The man ripped the gag from Frank's mouth.

"Do you understand?" the man said again, leaning in.

"Ye… yes."

"Your ability to dispose of NLGP's refuse makes you a commodity that is useful to us. You do not want us to doubt your value."

NLGP? Frank had invested in the Northern Lights Genome Project up in Reykjavik, Iceland. What did they have to do with those people Frank and his minions had tossed into the sea? They were a legit medical research company, weren't they? At one point Willow had wondered if he'd been using them to launder his ill-gotten gains. So much for that thought.

"N… no. I'll do what you want," stammered Frank.

"Of course you will," said the man who'd been leaning against the credenza. He walked over and patted Frank's unbroken cheek. "Be a good boy and don't cause us any more trouble. We don't want to have to pay you another visit. Or maybe we'll visit that pretty little wife of yours."

"Willow?" Frank barked a laugh. "You'd be doing me a favor."

Later that night, Willow sent an urgent message to Katie, arranging to meet between one and three in the morning, and then slipped away from her old life. She took only what she had on her back, as well as a single change of clothes and something to sleep in. She didn't dare take anything that might be perceived to be a travel bag. She had been systematically storing everything she had against Frank on flash drives. Those she tucked into her bra before making her way down to their private dock and stealing away into the night.

Willow knew she would be at the rendezvous destination long before midnight, but she planned to stay hidden away so that she could watch for at least an hour. If no one came to meet her and get her to safety before three in the morning, she would have no choice but to strike out on her own and disappear forever.

She sailed toward a small, hidden cove not far from the designated meeting spot. Regardless of what happened, she would never return to the sailboat. A slow leak would have it residing on the bottom of the cove come sunrise, and by then, she would be long gone from this place. Taking the small, but powerful Zodiac, carried behind the sailboat, she made her way toward her rendezvous. She looked back to see the beautiful sailboat beginning its long, slow descent into the sea.

Willow's heart pounded as the Zodiac skimmed across the choppy water. All in all, things had been going well. Her self-congratulations were drowned out by the roar of a speed boat behind her. The roar of its engines grew louder as a powerful searchlight began combing the water. Shit. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her worst fears. As the sound grew louder, she could see its sleek hull cutting through the waves with terrifying speed. She hunkered down in the Zodiac, asking it for all the speed it could give her.

She risked another look behind her and could make out three men on board, their grim faces illuminated by the moonlight, which had chosen this precise moment to break through the storm clouds above. They worked for Frank, had never been fans of hers, and seemed intent on gaining on her. Willow vowed she would not let them take her back.

The black water rippled beneath her boat. She needed to come up with a plan. She'd known they would be after her, but she hadn't thought it would be so fast. Willow had thought she'd at least have until sunrise. Did she continue on or try and somehow keep the Zodiac going as fast as it could away from her after she dove into the water? She could disappear under the waves, not to end it all, but to make them think she had or that she'd fallen out and drowned. She was considering the odds when she realized that in this part of the world, at this time of year, she would most likely succumb to marine predators long before she could get to shore and get away. Even if she didn't, there was nothing to say that the spotlight wouldn't catch her great escape plan, and they would simply come fish her out. Abandoning the Zodiac seemed like a poor plan.

She veered from what might be an easily predictable path, cutting toward shore and realizing she might be too close. The Zodiac skimmed across the shallows, but the motor dragged, and she had to cut back toward the deeper water to keep from losing it.

Willow gripped the Zodiac's motor handle tighter, her knuckles white. The tiny craft bounced and slapped against the water, each jolt rattling her bones. She had to stay focused, had to keep ahead of them. This part of the coastline was a jagged silhouette. She needed to use what light she had from the moon to try and lose them in the labyrinth of coves and inlets ahead.

The power boat closed the distance, its engine a menacing growl. Willow swerved sharply, nearly capsizing as she veered toward a narrow channel. She prayed the deeper draft of the power boat would slow them down. The Zodiac skidded around a rocky outcrop, and for a brief moment, she lost sight of her pursuers.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The power boat appeared again, its searchlight slicing through the darkness and locking onto her. Shit. Willow's breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed the motor to its limit. The engine whined in protest, but she didn't ease up. She couldn't. Not now.

A bullet whizzed past her ear, splashing into the water. She hadn't heard it over the dueling engines. Either they were louder than she thought, or the bastards were using silencers. Another splat as another bullet plunged into the ocean—this time only narrowly missing her. Panic surged through her, but she forced it down. She couldn't afford to lose control. She had to think, had to outmaneuver them. Up ahead, she spotted a cluster of rocks jutting out of the water. It was risky, but it might be her only chance.

She steered the Zodiac toward the rocks, threading the needle through the narrow gaps. The sound of the power boat's engine faltered as it struggled to follow. Another gunshot rang out, this time hitting the side of the Zodiac, puncturing the rubber. Willow's heart sank as she felt the boat start to deflate, but she pressed on, weaving through the obstacles.

The power boat slowed, the larger craft unable to match her agility among the rocks. The searchlight panned the shoreline, looking for her. Willow saw an opportunity and took it, maneuvering the Zodiac, which was now on life support, into a shallow cove. She cut the engine and grabbed the emergency paddle, rowing with all her might. The Zodiac's punctured side was sinking lower, but she was close, so close.

She hit the sandy beach and jumped out, dragging the deflating Zodiac behind her. She scrambled up the rocky incline, the sound of the power boat receding as it struggled to navigate the treacherous waters. She didn't stop until she reached the cover of the trees, her chest heaving as she tried to stash the remains of the Zodiac and catch her breath.

Willow looked back toward the water. The power boat was still out there, its searchlight sweeping the area, but they hadn't spotted her. Not yet. She knew she couldn't stay here long. Frank's men would be relentless. But for now, she had a precious few moments to rest and plan her next move. She would survive this. She had to.

The soft cry of a falcon caught her attention—mostly because falcons were not nocturnal hunters. She turned back to see if the power boat had made land.

"It hasn't beached yet," said a woman's voice from behind.

Willow whirled around, lifting the oar up in a defensive posture. The woman was petite and curvy, with silvery blonde hair and dark eyes. She was also stark naked.

"I'm going to assume you're Willow Carlyle," she said, pulling on leggings, sneakers, and a bulky sweater. She extended her hand. "I'm Mercy Bowen, and I'm with the Shadow Sisters. We need to get out of here. I've got a car waiting. Come on."

"Not so fast. Who are the Shadow Sisters? Why should I trust you?"

"Because Katie O'Neill sent me, and the Shadow Sisters are the sworn enemies of the Shadow League. Good enough?"

Willow dropped the oar, which would be too burdensome to carry. "It is for now."

Together, the two women raced through the trees and up to a road as they made their way to a small car, getting in and speeding off into the darkness. Willow looked back over her shoulder. It was as if she could see her old life fading away, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but where the future might take her was anyone's guess.