Page 19

Laughter bubbled in my throat. He was too adorable. “Taking care of a senior is hard enough. Longevity runs on my father’s side, so I have plenty of time to decide if kids are in the forecast. Right now I’ve got enough responsibilities and want to focus on my career.”

He redirected his attention to a shelf by the wall that contained photographs, wood carvings, rocks from different places my father visited, and a candle. “Is that your mother?”

I followed his gaze to an old photo of a blond woman with a radiant smile, sitting on a massive rock overlooking a river. “That’s the only picture I have of her. She left us when I was ten.”

“Sorry.”

“She didn’t die. She left.”

His brow furrowed. “Why?”

“Because she wanted more than my father could give, and he was busy with the Underground Railroad. She wasn’t much of a parent. My dad gave me all the affection. After she left, she found a wealthy mate from old money, but he didn’t want me to be part of their family and neither did she.”

“Why did she have young if she didn’t want them?”

“Questions I’ll never have the answers to, and honestly, I don’t care.

” I noticed the black ring on his middle finger.

“My dad says she got really depressed after I was born, but I don’t think a hormonal imbalance was the reason she didn’t love me.

There’s something deeper going on with that woman.

For years I thought maybe I’d see her sometimes, but she never bothered to check in on me or look me up.

Now I don’t care about that woman. All she did was give birth to me.

There comes a time when you have to stop holding on to the people who already let you go. ”

“Maybe your father kept you from her.”

I patted the table. “No, he was upset that she severed ties with us. They lived six hours away by horseback, and he took me to their house once and banged on their door. Demanded that she come down and see her child. I glimpsed her looking at me from a window before she ducked out of sight. That’s the moment I knew it wasn’t just my father she was leaving; it was both of us.

I never told him about that. When she left us, it broke him.

She was the only woman he ever loved. His first wife was an arranged mating, and while they built a happy life until she died, it wasn’t for love.

I used to wonder if my parents would still be together if I hadn’t come along, but I quit blaming myself after a conversation my father had with me. ”

His eyebrow arched. “What did he say?”

“He told me how they argued about their future, money, and the time he wasted helping humans. I guess that put things into perspective. It was never meant to be.”

“You’ve got her eyes.”

I certainly did. My mother had inherited an unusual color, and despite my father’s strong genetics, I got her eyes.

Genetics among Breed didn’t have the same rules as with humans, and that’s why so many of us had unique traits.

When I looked at her picture, I had trouble seeing any resemblance to me. Maybe I just didn’t want to.

Lucian frowned. “Where did you get the photograph? They didn’t have flip-flops in the Civil War.”

“It’s my father’s. I don’t know where or how he got it.”

Lucian leaned forward. “If she broke his heart, why is he hanging a picture of her in the living room?”

“He has some dreamy fantasy that after he’s gone, we’ll bury the hatchet and reunite.

My mom is four hundred years younger than him.

” I shook my head. “That’s why he put it over there, so I can stare at it while we play games.

He doesn’t want me to hate her. It’s a reminder that I still have family, but she’s not my family anymore. She never really was.”

“I can see why he fell for her.”

“I bet she’s more your type than I am.”

“Why? Because you think all Chitahs like blondes?”

“Obviously.” I set my wineglass down. “I resemble my father.”

He squinted at me. “That’s not entirely true.”

“Sure, my skin’s a little lighter than his and my curls are looser, but I am definitely my father’s daughter.”

“I meant because she has a smile that pulls you in like a tide. Your smile.”

My heart quickened at his compliment.

Lucian casually leaned back but kept his shackled arm on the table.

“For your information, Chitahs have criteria when they date, but not because they think those traits are more beautiful. Light hair, yellow eyes, and height are ubiquitous, so people think it means all their gifts are intact. Someone like me, well, I’m seen as a defect. ”

“Is it true? Because from what I’ve witnessed, nothing about you is inferior.”

A blush touched his cheeks. Damn, how I loved a man who blushed.

“People believe what they want to whether it’s true or not,” he continued.

“When they see my black hair, they assume my genetics are somehow defective—that I lack venom or the ability to run faster than a Mage. It’s a physical cue that something must be wrong with my gifts.

Ethnicity has nothing to do with it either.

Chitahs exist everywhere. It’s all about the hair, eyes, and height.

If a male has blue eyes, does it mean they have a defect?

Sometimes, but there’s no science to back it.

In fact, I’ve seen a lot of generic Chitahs with all the desired traits who didn’t have fangs or couldn’t flip their switch. ”

“Really?”

“You’d never know it by looking at them.

So if anyone is passing on defective gifts to their young, it’s them.

Females won’t mate a defect. A Chitah born without the ability to flip their switch, to produce venom, to scent emotions is nothing more than a human.

Females don’t see a protector when they look at me. ”

“That’s absurd.”

He scoffed and pointed a finger at me. “Like you guys don’t believe the same thing.

The only difference is you don’t have any physical traits to base assumptions on.

But you discriminate all the same. One of my packmates was turned away from her own family because of a defect.

So tell me, who’s the asshole? Me or the rest of the world? ”

“Maybe your curse is a blessing. If anyone is closed-minded enough to exclude you from their life, they’re not a person you want in your life. That makes all your friendships genuine. People are changing, Lucian. Maybe someday we won’t live in a world where everyone’s divided into groups.”

While Lucian came across as introverted, he certainly wasn’t quiet once you got him talking about a topic he was interested in, and I loved hearing his perspective.

“If you want to know my opinion,” I offered, “black hair is more striking on a Chitah. It makes your eyes shimmer like gold.”

He rubbed his chin on his shoulder and looked like he wanted to bolt.

I dragged the slack on the chain toward me until our fingers touched. “You can’t run from me tonight.”

A spotted pattern similar to a cheetah cat’s flashed across his skin—there one minute and gone the next.

“Do you control that?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“When you growled back at the jail, it sounded like a real animal. Deep and hollow. How do you do that?”

“We have fattier tissue stretched around the vocal cords. I’ve never done an autopsy on a person, but that’s how it works with wild cats. The vocal cords might be shaped differently. I haven’t been able to find many science books on our anatomy.”

I’d never been with a Chitah, but when he watched me with those catlike eyes, it made my tiger amorous.

He inhaled purposefully as if reading my thoughts.

I got up from my seat and sauntered beside him. Following my instincts, I ran my fingers through his soft black hair. A purr settled deep in his chest.

“You and I have chemistry. Do you remember when we first met? I knew you liked me then.”

He shook his head.

“When I smiled at you, your neck flushed with a spotted pattern, and for a split second, black rings pulsed around your eyes. In all my years, Lucian, I’ve never had a Chitah react to me that way before.” My fingers skimmed down to his nape and lightly stroked. “Scoot your chair back.”

Lucian sat frozen for a moment before sliding back.

How far will he go?

Maybe it was the wine, but I couldn’t ignore the sexual tension between us any longer. “Get on your knees.”

He sucked in a breath before rising from his chair and kneeling before me.

“I want you to stop calling me Councilwoman Eden. Or Miss Thompson.”

“What do you want me to call you?”

“Something that’s between us. In public, you’ll still address me formally, but don’t use those names while we’re intimate.

” I cupped his chiseled jaw in my hands and decided to be honest with him.

“Regardless of what you may have heard—and I’ve heard plenty of gossip around this town—I haven’t had sex in a long time.

” I stroked his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb.

“My animal is all but tearing out of my skin. I want you, Lucian. And I know you want me too.”

I didn’t need to be a Chitah who could scent emotion; I could see the desire in his heated gaze, the way his breathing accelerated, and most definitely by the growing erection in his pants.

“Your scent is”—he drew in a deep breath, his eyes hooded—“intoxicating.”

“Then get drunk on me.” The chain rattled as I stroked his neck. “My fires are burning, and I need it. I feel safe with you.”

“I don’t want a relationship.”

“Neither do I. What I’m proposing is an arrangement.

No strings attached. I can’t sleep with every man I date—not in a town like this where people talk.

We have chemistry, and that’s rare. My animal likes you,” I purred.

“But this has to stay between us. You can’t tell your pack, especially your alpha or your nephew. ”

When his eyes locked on mine, I got a tingling sensation in my belly.

Lucian canted his head. “You’re very direct.”

“I’ve always been direct.”