The Lion and the Lamb

Tatum’s inner thoughts cost her as Peaches threw her off and reached behind her back. Tatum wasn’t a fool. The flash of a gun pierced her vision right before she dove for Peaches. “No!” Tatum tackled the woman, but not before the sound of the gun going off splintered through the room. Searing pain lanced her side, but she couldn’t let the pain take control. Wrestling with Peaches for the gun proved harder than she thought with the burning agony in her side. The second shot rang out, and everything seemed to stop.

The two women looked at each other. Peaches’s eyes were as wide as Tatum’s, and that was when she finally let the pain and darkness take her away.28The scent of Tatum’s blood and her cry of pain had the animal inside Leo pushing his human side away. From the time he had entered the club and shifted, he had still been in control. Not any longer. He tore out of Slade’s grasp, his flesh tearing as the other lion’s teeth were wrenched from his body.

It was because of him that she got hurt. It was because of his irrational thinking, and his need to take Slade out, that his mate lay just feet from him, bleeding.

A mighty roar left him, his animal scenting Tatum was injured. It was like taking the backseat in a race, watching everything that happened head-on, but unable to do a damn thing about it. Claws swiped out, blood sprayed the walls, and flesh tore open. His pain and wounds had nothing on the carnage his lion inflicted.

Grunts, cries, and roars filled his ears, and he couldn’t tell if they came from Slade or a mixture of his animal taking control. After what only seemed like seconds, Slade’s mangled body lay at Leo’s feet. Taking huge, gulping breaths, he turned to where he scented Tatum. Her body lay crumpled on the ground, the pool of dark blood forming around her. Peaches lay just a few inches away, the hole in her belly gaping.

He rushed toward her, his muzzle nudging Tatum’s lifeless body. He could hear the sound of her heart beating—faint but there. The front doors opened again, and he crouched in front of his mate, the low, primal sound coming from deep within him.

His emotions were a jumbled mess inside him. All he could think about was protecting Tatum, his mate, his female. Hunched low, he braced to take down whoever came close to her.

Tryck, Whren, and Rocker stood in the entrance, their eyes taking in the scene. Blood filled the air, and he knew the humans who worked for him smelled it too.

“Fuck.” Tryck took a step forward, a low whistle coming from him. “Shit just got real.” He threw his hands up when Leo took a slow, deliberate step toward him. “Get control of yourself, boss.” He looked over Leo’s shoulder, his eyes widening fractionally before he looked back at him. “Boss, we need to get your girl looked at or she’ll bleed out, yeah?”

And just like that, Leo pushed his animal down and shifted back to his human form. He had been too wild, too primal to realize Tatum would die right in front of him if he didn’t get her help. Blood covered his body as he knelt down in front of her.

Some of it came from the various wounds on his body, but the majority was hers. Lifting her into his arms, he cradled her frail body and strode forward. It didn’t matter that he was naked. He didn’t give a fuck about anything aside from making sure his girl lived.

“Get Doc to the club,” he said over his shoulder. Doc, a smarter-than-fuck man who knew about Leo, was someone he could trust with the life of his mate. He didn’t need to tell his men to get the mess cleaned up. They knew the drill, knew that if this shit got out there would be trouble from both sides.

Once he got Tatum well and better, he would make sure she knew exactly how much he loved her. He would protect her, not like the shitty job he had done of late. She meant everything to him, and not just because biology told him she was meant to be his.

He loved everything about her. The way she went toe-to-toe with him without backing down showed the kind of strength she had within. He couldn’t have picked a better mate.

She would survive. He said it over and over again, not accepting anything less.

She. Was. His.

He took her hand in his, hating that it felt so cold and limp.

“Come on, baby. Don’t you fucking give up, not now.”29Searing pain the likes of which she had never experienced coursed through her, like a strong current intent on taking her down. When she peeled her eyes open, the bright light had her snapping them shut. A low groan left her, and someone grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze.