Dark Beauty (The Deadly Beauties Live On 1)

Vaporizing again, I beat most of them to the top, only met by other dark users who can do as I do. There’s a clearing we’ve ended up in—a circle of nothing but dirt amongst the trees. My jaw goes slack when I see the autumn eyes staring at us, looking like fall has descended within their rich depths.

“Werewolves,” I growl just as a woman steps forward, her raven’s hair smooth and still as she approaches the head of the pack.

“Werecats,” Kimber corrects at my side, appearing from almost nowhere. How’d she get up here this fast?

&n

bsp; But her words confuse me more than her speed. Werecats in a pack? That’s rare. Werecats are usually loners.

“This land is sacred and protected. The new queen has no right to invade us, because we live by her laws,” the woman asserts. How the hell did she know who we were?

Her claws are quite literally out, a warning that she’ll shift at any second if we make her feel so inclined.

“We’re not here to invade. We’re here to ask questions. You escaped from a prison, and I want to know where it was so I can free the rest.”

The woman glares at Kimber when she finishes her demands.

“I don’t know what you think you know, but I didn’t escape from the prison. I was sold to a demon who needed my blood for survival after a hexer got ahold of him. That’s where I escaped from. He didn’t have charmed bars to keep me in, and the second his back was turned, I shifted and fled. That was over five years ago. I never knew the whereabouts of the prison. It was isolated.”

Kimber curses while running a hand through her hair, and I study the werecat in front of me, noting the various slave markings on the parts of her body that I can see. The serpent one on her arm is the one I recognize the best, and I watch how far it wraps up her arm, disappearing under her short sleeve.

“You were a slave for a long time,” I say gently, trying to be compassionate about her warranted trepidation.

She may not know where the ring is, but she knows something that could help.

The mistrust in her eyes shifts, revealing the pain she’s trying to hide. Self-consciously, she rubs her snake with her other hand, trailing it to where it disappears.

“Three centuries. Doesn’t mean I know where I was. The places we were taken were amongst other planes usually—not part of the breathing world.”

“Meaning you couldn’t have escaped even if you wanted to,” I sigh, frowning. “Not without the help of someone who can travel between the planes.”

She nods somberly, her eyes lost now that she seems to be thinking back to a worse time.

“Maybe you could share your story?” I ask, taking a cautious step forward.

When her pack hisses in warning, I hold my ground, not advancing anymore.

“My story needs to be kept quiet. I’ve been locked away once for who I am. I refuse to expose myself anymore,” she growls bitterly, and the rest of her pack starts growling as well, but none of them shift—which is unusual. Most all were would have shifted the second they felt threatened, but they’re holding their flesh forms.

All women. The entire pack is made up of only women, which is odd. Unless… “You’re a lioness pack,” I say aloud, and all their eyes go wide in surprise as the growls deepen. “And since you’re the alpha female of this pride, you’re considered a rare creature. I assumed lioness packs were extinct.”

Her lips curl back in a snarl as her fangs extend, and several of the women shift, dropping down to their beautiful, golden-fur forms.

“You should leave,” the alpha female says, her rumbling warning growing.

“How about not pissing them off,” Kimber hisses, moving in front of me to take control of the situation.

She starts undoing one of the black leather cuffs on her wrists until it falls open, revealing a tribal marking. Another slave marking.

I don’t remember that being on her as a child. Surely she wouldn’t have gotten it as a means of sympathizing with slave-ring victims. That’s shitty if she did, even though she was a slave herself. Those marks are deeper than mortal scars ever thought about being.

The growling dies down as the pack leader stares at the marking, realization settling in.

“How long?” she asks Kimber.

“Nowhere nearly as long as you. I’m trying to save others from going through what you have. All I need are answers. The more I know, the more people I can save.”

Her voice is calm, coaxing, and almost relaxing to even me. It’s the worst possible time to glance down at her ass, especially since it has me groaning internally. Of all the damn women for me to—