Tarian Protector (New Tarian Pride Book 4) Read online

“You’ll try?”

  He drew her hand to his chest, right over his pounding heartbeat. “You got this thing workin’ again. I guess trying is the least I can do.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ford turned into the parking lot of Olan’s Pancake Hut, and in the side yard, under a huge oak tree, the Tarian lionesses had already gathered. They had plates stacked high with pancakes and pitchers of orange juice.

  When Ford parked nearest to them, Emerald motioned them over. “We got your food already.”

  “Oh.” Sora smiled at Ford. “That was nice of them!”

  Ford looked pale, and he was taking light, steadying breaths.

  “Come on,” she murmured. “You’re fine. It’s just the girl, and I’m here. Easy peasy.”

  At the last two words, he grimaced, but nodded. As soon as he got out and met her at the front of the SUV, she slipped her hand into his.

  “They’ll smell like their mates,” he rumbled in a gritty voice.

  Aaaah, that was the problem.

  “Well then it’s time to work,” she said lightly. “Lesson one. Become desensitized to the scent of other males.”

  Sora waved, but the Tarian Lionesses stopped their bustling and food prep. Stopped passing out napkins and pouring orange juice. They put down their chores and made their way to Sora. She stood there stunned as, one by one, the lionesses pulled her in for long hugs. She didn’t panic over being touched. She was surprised, sure, but into her third hug with Annamora’s arms wrapped tight around her, it actually felt good. Her lioness perked up and purred, and that was a big deal. She looked at Ford as she slowly drew her arms up for Rose to hug her, and he was smiling. There was pride in that grin, and she wanted to cry again. Seemed like that’s all she did lately. Happy cry.

  She didn’t make any sense anymore.

  She was growing tougher and softer all at the same time.

  “Ford the Dark,” Katy announced grandly, hands on her hips. “We tried to get your scary ass a whole bucket of beers so you would remain chill and not terrifying, but they don’t serve beer until noon, so until then, you will have to do with pitchers of mimosas. I got them to add extra bubbly, just for you.”

  “Do I look like a man who drinks mimosas?” Ford deadpanned.

  “Uh, you look terrifying,” Emerald said. “If you don’t want the mimosas, we will gladly down them for you.”

  Ford cracked a tiny smile for Ronin’s mate. “I suppose for one day, I can be a mimosa man.”

  Katy grinned. “New nickname!”

  “No,” Ford said. “I like the first one. Ford the Dark.”

  “Mimosa Man!” Katy said without missing a beat.

  “Oh my God,” he grumbled.

  When Sora snorted, Annamora glanced her way with the strangest expression on her face. “Did you just laugh?”

  Heat tinted Sora’s cheeks, and she pressed her cold hands there to ease the redness. “I think I’m a little different than the last time you all saw me.” She would always remember the trial day as her rock bottom.

  Annamora was just nodding, and her eyes were full of something Sora didn’t understand. The submissive lioness parted her lips to say something, but nothing came out. And then she turned and grabbed the handles of two pitchers of mimosas and handed them both to Ford and Sora.

  “These entire things are for us?” Ford rumbled.

  “We got one each,” Katy said through a laugh. “They said no on the buckets of beers, but since this is our first time partying with the Dark Lion, I panicked and just ordered everyone a pitcher of mimosas.”

  “Oh God,” Ford said, lifting his pitcher. “Okay, well, lift ’em up, ladies. We’re getting mimosa drunk at ten in the morning apparently.”

  Sora could see it—him hiding a tiny smile. His eyes were dancing as the Tarian Lionesses came closer with their pitchers in hand.

  What was this feeling in Sora’s chest? This full, fluttery, overwhelming sensation that pulsed outward with every beat of her heart? Happiness? She lifted her pitcher with the others as they all gathered in a circle. She rested her drink in the middle with the other pitchers as Rose did a toast.

  “To not giving up. No matter what.” The older woman’s silver hair lifted slightly in the wind, and her eyes were trained on Ford. That toast wasn’t for Sora. It was for him. Rose was very wise.

  Ford drank down half his pitcher, never taking his eyes off Rose. And when the chatter picked back up and the food prep was underway again, he nodded to Rose and got the same gesture in return.

  And Sora’s heart pounded on.

  At the long picnic table, Ford sat at the end, right next to Sora, his hand on her thigh as he ate silently. The ladies were in a chatty mood, and Sora loved it. She’d been a watcher for months, just quiet, their conversation never really touching her, but today she could see their personalities in their talk. Rose was tough and smart, Katy was hilarious and forgiving, Annamora was still quiet and uncertain but steadier, and Emerald was mature, sweet, watchful, and supportive.

  Sora was lost in the cadence of the breakfast, everyone talking and laughing, eating enough pancakes to feed a small army, and drinking mimosas. It was Ford who squeezed her leg and pulled her from her little internal world.

  “Sora used to take pictures,” Ford said. “She was a really good photographer.”

  Confused at his sudden compliment, and feeling shy under the attention, she said, “Oh, I was never that good. It’s just something I enjoyed.”

  “Well, I bought a good camera to take pictures of the flower arrangements we’ve been making in the greenhouse,” Rose said, “but I can’t figure the damn thing out.”

  “I can’t either,” Katy groaned. “I spent two hours, and all my pictures came out blurry or focused on the wrong thing.”

  Rose pointed to Sora with her plastic fork. “You can use the camera if you want. See if you can figure it out.”

  Sora gave off a little gasp. “Really?”

  “It’s just sitting there not being used at this point,” Emerald said. “We all gave up. It’s too high tech for us.”

  “If you figure it out, I wouldn’t mind some help taking pictures of the arrangements,” Rose murmured. “We’re trying to start selling to florists online, but we can’t until we figure out how to make the website look professional.”

  “I never knew you liked taking pictures,” Annamora said. “I maybe didn’t know very much about you, though. You were quiet when we were there.” There. The way she’d said it with such hatred, she meant the Old Tarians. “What did you take pictures of?”

  “Oh, any and everything at first.”

  Ford spoke up. “She would make me take her to the library so she could check out books on photography. She sat there and read an entire book about lighting from cover to cover in one sitting.”

  “And you stayed with her? Good man,” Emerald said in an impressed tone.

  “It was no chore for me. Her face is fun to watch when she’s into something she’s passionate about. She used to smile a lot while she was reading. Plus, she spent countless hours out in my shop with me while I fixed up motorcycles. Least I could do was hang out at a library for a few hours a week with her.” Ford frowned at the staring women across the table. “What?”

  “That’s the most we’ve ever heard you say, and you didn’t sound like a damn demon for a minute,” Katy enlightened him.

  Ford narrowed his eyes and chugged the rest of his pitcher of mimosa in silence. Okay then.

  “I really liked taking pictures of people,” Sora admitted softly. “I would sit outside of this coffee shop and take pictures of the people in town as they went about their lives. I would never publish them or anything. They were private moments, and I didn’t have permission, but I would capture a little smile on a kid’s face when his mom looked down at him, or the anger in a face of a person who had been hurt by a careless word. Every face and body is different and beautiful in their own ways. I liked the messy pictures where the wind
was blowing hair and clothes around, a tossed look over a shoulder, the blur of legs when someone was running. I was learning to develop my own film before…before…”

  “Before Cassius,” Annamora finished for her.

  Sora nodded once and fidgeted with the last pancake on her plate, poking it with a fork and spreading the syrup around on top of it. “I liked finding beauty in people who weren’t necessarily having a beautiful moment.”

  “Can you take a picture of me?” Annamora asked suddenly.

  Sora jerked her gaze up to the quiet Tarian. “You want me to take a picture of you?”

  Annamora swallowed hard, glanced at Ford, then back at Sora. She nodded. “Maybe if you’re still good at finding beauty in a rough moment, maybe you can find it in me.”

  Ooooh, Annamora. Sora had been so lost in her own pain she hadn’t seen the pain around her. This girl was fighting her way out of a hole just like Sora was. “Yes,” she said. “I would love to take a picture of you.”

  Ford’s hand was strong when he put comforting pressure on her thigh. And as the girls began talking about what Annamora should wear, how she should do her hair and make-up, all of that, Ford slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her tight against him. And then he shocked her into stillness when he pressed his lips against her temple. “Good girl,” he growled so softly it was barely audible over the excited talk of the Tarian Lionesses.

  And this moment felt important. Sora got real determined to help Annamora, and it pulled her out of her own struggle for a moment. It was a second of pure relief, placing her focus on helping someone else. Doubled with Ford’s pride, her chest felt so full right now that it was hard to breathe.

  And when she looked down, the purple in their bond was a tiny bit brighter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ford sat there in the dark, a soft growl rattling his chest as he thought about what he would do.

  He’d meant to leave an hour ago, but he couldn’t quite pry himself from the chair where he had the perfect view of Sora as she slept. The early dawn light was dim, but his predator sight didn’t need it to see every beautiful curve of her face and body.

  All he wanted to do was touch her.

  He looked down at his hands, big, tattooed, gruff, and calloused. There was oil embedded in his nailbeds from working on his Harley today. How many times had he hurt other males? Other shifters who had drifted into his territory? He had no right to touch an angel with these blood-stained hands, and yet…

  Sora made him feel cleaner somehow. Worthy even.

  She saw things beyond the veil, and that was magic in itself, something he’d never believed in before. But she also had this ability to wash away a man’s crimes and make him feel…hope. There was no one else like her.

  Hope was an uncertain and dangerous game for a monster like him. He could fail, and his failure wouldn’t just be a mental slap on the wrist. It wouldn’t mean a little bit of guilt and moving on.

  His failure could kill people she cared about.

  But if he never tried, he was a coward. And Sora, that little dragon rising, she deserved a man who would rise with her.

  His stomach clenched with nausea at what he would do. Leaving her felt like the biggest mistake, but what choice did he have? He would be damned if he cursed her with his shortcomings.

  He stood in a rush before he could change his mind for the tenth time and strode for the door, forcing himself not to look back.

  And when he closed the door behind him, he knew without a shadow of a doubt, he’d never heard a lonelier sound in all his life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hmmm,” Sora murmured, feeling strange. Feeling empty for some reason.

  She sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes. There was one ray of sunlight assaulting her eyeballs right now. She looked around but didn’t feel or sense Ford at all. And when she looked down, there was no smoke coming from her. Inside of her, the lioness was quiet and watchful.

  “Ford?” she called to no answer.

  She stood and checked the kitchen, but he hadn’t started breakfast. He always woke before her, the early riser, and made something to eat. He had to eat all the time. Rubbing her arm, she looked around the empty house, mind racing. Okay, maybe he was just outside or needed a Change. He usually told her when he needed to Change, but maybe it had come on suddenly. That had happened to her the last time she’d Changed. Geez—she counted quickly—that had been two weeks ago, before she’d had her trial. Her lioness hadn’t even tried to come out. Scaredy cat.

  She was going to have to do some serious thinking on that, right after she found Ford.

  A search of the other rooms in the house and then outside turned up nothing. The SUV was still sitting in the same spot he’d parked it. Maybe he was in the shed.

  But it felt empty before she even padded through the open door. There she stood, her white nightdress tickling her ankles, her bare feet making footprints in the dirt, the dust motes swirling around her, chills on her skin.

  The motorcycle was gone.

  Ford was gone.

  She hadn’t realized just how attached she’d become to him until now. Where was the smoke? Where was the bond?

  Hands shaking, she pushed hair out of her face and called his name again. This time wasn’t for him. It was for her, because his name made this place feel less lonely. Along the edge of the woods, the ghosts of the shifters who used to live here stood watching her.

  Maybe they were attracted to her heartache.

  He would’ve left a note. It was Ford. He wouldn’t just leave! She ran for the house and tore open the door. She searched every counter, every table, every nightstand, but there was nothing.

  There was just her.

  Her and the ghosts that were inching closer to the house.

  She’d always thought they couldn’t hurt her, but she’d been wrong. They didn’t exist around Ford. He had chased her ghosts away. Their presence meant he was really really gone.

  What could hurt more than that?

  A soft rumble vibrated through the floorboards. Sora froze, chest heaving, eyes brimming with tears. Please be him.

  She ran to the front door as the engine got louder. By the time she stepped into the yard, she could see him. Ford was coming up the ravine trail, picking his way carefully. He didn’t have a shirt on, just jeans and sunglasses. His hair was windblown into perfection, his arm muscles flexed as he controlled the motorcycle with one hand, and the toe of his work boot moved as he shifted gears. In the other arm was cradled something she couldn’t quite make out.

  She’d been on the verge of shattering, and now she was overwhelmed with relief. She ran to him, reached him just as he put the motorcycle on its kickstand. He held out his free arm and grunted as she blasted into him.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, hugging her so tight against him. Ford smelled like blood. Blood and grief.

  “You left,” she murmured.

  “I had to. Just for a little while.”

  “You didn’t tell me, and I thought you were really gone.”

  Ford lifted up and got off his Harley. “I brought you something.”

  Sora stared dumbly at the camera case in his hand that he offered to her. “I—I don’t understand.”

  “I went to the New Tarians.” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “I tried, Sora. I tried to stay a man, but the lion doesn’t give a shit about my wants.”

  Sora eased back by inches, and his grip around her waist loosened. Swallowing audibly, she asked, “Did you fight them?”

  Ford nodded once. “Ronin was ready. I gave him a heads up. Everyone is fine. Or they will be. Orion is the worst off.” He angled his face away from her. “I want to get better, but…”

  Sora set the camera beside her and cupped his bearded chin. And then she pulled his sunglasses off his face. His eyes were closed, so she said, “Look at me.”

  He sighed and eased his yellow eyes open. Their color rivaled the dawn sun. Th
ose eyes used to scare her, but now she loved them. “You brought me the camera so that you could have an excuse to put yourself around other males. For practice.” She gestured to the camera beside her. “That isn’t the present, Ford. The present is you trying for me. The boys will heal.” She studied the half-healed claw marks on his ribs. “So will you.”

  “I won’t ever be able to be a part of a Pride, Sora. The animal is too dominant. I can’t give you that life.”

  “So give me one better. You be my Pride. You be my Alpha. Any socialization my lioness needs, I can get from the girls of the New Tarians.”

  “But you’re a Tarian queen—”

  “Wrong. I was a Tarian queen. And look what it did to me. On your worst day, you’re a better king than Cassius ever was on his best. I choose you. You wanted me to have a future, wanted my life to be my choice. I choose this bond.” She traced the wisps that trickled toward him, lightly touched his chest, then traced them back to her own chest. “I don’t care what my life was supposed to be. I care about you.” Her voice dipped to a whisper. “I’m proud of you.”

  He shook his head and huffed a dark laugh. “You wouldn’t say that if you saw what I just did to Orion. To Ronin, Kannon, Talon. If I was them? I would want me dead or out of their territory.”

  She smiled. “Then I’m really glad you aren’t them.” Sora stood on her tiptoes, pressed her lips to his, then nuzzled her cheek against one, then the other of his cheeks. And then she slipped her arms around his shoulders and purred into his strong hug. “My monster,” she whispered. “Trying for me. Good monster.”

  Ford rubbed his face against hers, too, his beard scratching her soft skin. She could feel it, his purring. His whole body vibrated with it, and now his hands were stroking up her back. He lowered his lips to her neck, and Sora arched her head backward, giving him a better angle at her neck. He opened his jaw and then clamped his teeth lightly onto her skin. I trust you.

  His lips crashed against hers like waves on a cliff. His hand went to the back of her head, and she should’ve felt trapped, but all she felt was the perfection of this moment. Her body didn’t tense around him anymore, her breath didn’t freeze. She wanted more, not less.