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  Kya’s King

  Copyright © 2010 by Becca Dale

  ISBN: 978-1-936394-31-9

  Cover art by Dara England

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  Kya’s King

  Book One of the Sanctuary Series

  by Becca Dale

  ~DEDICATION~

  To my fantastic critic partners who encourage me even when I want to give up on myself. I love you ladies.

  Chapter One—Finding Kya

  The moon hung a mere sliver in the night sky, barely breaking the darkness as Ja moved beyond the animal enclosures. Kya lay inside a brick building. Strange, she did not sleep in the open air among the other animals, as her true nature dictated. Night creatures greeted him, howled his name, and warned of her vulnerability, but he waved them quiet. He stepped through the garden door into her bedroom. She sprawled naked on her sleeping pallet. Long, tawny hair spread across the white pillowcase like satin embroidery and lean, well-defined muscles confirmed her feline heritage despite her pale, hairless state. If Dar found her like this, she would be easy prey.

  Ja eased his weight onto the edge of the mattress. Blond-tipped lashes flickered against her softly rounded cheekbones, though she did not waken. Tiny freckles, he remembered from her childhood, dusted her upturned nose and highlighted her more catlike features, but her resemblance to the little girl in his memories ended with the small dots of pigment. Her full bottom lip pouted, begging him to taste it, and his body tightened in response. Kya exuded an artless sexuality he had not expected from one raised outside the clan. Her skin, velvet smooth beneath the sensitive pads of his fingers, increased his need. She licked her lips in her sleep, drawing his attention to the tip of her pink tongue as it peeked from her slightly open mouth. Lust, hot and heavy, pulsed in his groin at the thought of teasing it with his own.

  He covered her sensuous lips with his, claiming her even as she slept. With a satisfied purr, her tongue met and parried his. Cool amber eyes flashed then closed, but her hands clutched at his arms braced on either side of her shoulders. He shifted his legs between her silky thighs and fought the urge to bury himself within her gorgeous body even as she slept. Will she know me if she wakes or scream in horror at the stranger in her bed? Closing his mind to the later possibility, he nibbled the slender curve of her neck, the tiny shell of her ear, the delicate arch of her brow. Each feathering kiss fed the desire to claim her. The scent of honey and cinnamon radiated from her pale skin. Her natural perfume swamped his senses, drawing him closer, demanding he protect what belonged to him by royal command.

  A possessive growl escaped his chest as he explored lower to the delicate pulse at the base of her throat. Her taste settled on his tongue, clean and fresh. The soft curves of her human form encouraged haste, but Ja’s need to discover every delicate inch required a more leisurely pace. He paused to tease her breasts, nipping gently at each tight, little nipple. He sucked one small mound into the cavern of his eager mouth. His tongue worshiped the raised nub, sliding over and around until she moaned and lifted toward his touch.

  Her fingers sank into his hair and tugged him closer, begging for more.

  He gave in a desperate attempt to earn her pleasure. He tightened his hands around her breasts and kneaded delicately as he blew across the flesh, moist from his kiss. Goose bumps rose on her arms, and a shiver chased them over her fair skin. Ja groaned. He loved her uninhibited response, loved the way her body trembled and her scent deepened as passion escalated. “That’s it, little one. Feel me.”

  He wandered lower to her flat abdomen, and her hands followed, fingers messaged his scalp and urged him toward her need. He traced the generous curve of her hip and the narrow valley that led to her core. Her thighs parted in welcome. His tongue stroked her labia as he sucked the moist, swollen folds into his mouth. His own pleasure escalated. He sank two fingers into her already slick vagina. Warm, wet, intoxicating; she drew him in. Preliminary tremors made her inner walls clench and quiver against the invasion. Ja stroked deeper, slid in and out in of her tight little slit in a sensuous pre-mating dance until she whimpered in need.

  He rose to his knees and pressed her legs wide. Taking her during her fertile cycle would protect her. Not even Dar would dare attack a female in sacred condition. Still he hesitated, inches from their joining. Every cell in his body craved the connection, but, right or not, he would not possess her without consent. Impatient with his own nobleness, he caught her face in his hands. “Awake, Kya. Open to me.”

  She stretched and shivered beneath him. His cock jumped; longing intensified. A searing ache ignited in his groin and burned through his mind, destroying patience. He had to be inside her. He grew restless waiting for her to recognize him. His mouth took hers once more, demanding she acknowledge him, while his hand sought the tempting flesh of her core. His tongue slid between her lips and mimicked his fingers as he teased her slick heat.

  When he glanced upward to gage her reaction, her lashes fluttered open. Her refined features and fair complexion gave her an innocent look that enraged him. Frailty suggested weakness. Still, her vulnerability made him hesitate. He caught her hair in his fist and tugged her head back. “You belong to me.”

  She held his gaze without flinching. A startling strength smoldered in her eyes, daring him to claim her, to mark her as his forever with his seed.

  He recaptured her mouth in an insistent kiss as he shifted his hips and pressed forward in a slow thrust. Her wet slit stretched in welcome, but did not yield completely. A small cry slipped from her throat, and she arched beneath him. He stilled, offering her time to adjust. She felt too tight, too new. He could not hurt her despite the urgency to claim what belonged to him before he lost it forever.

  As soon as her muscles relaxed, she snarled impatiently. Her fingernails sank into his flesh as she tilted her hips and tried to coax him deeper.

  With a chuckle he sat back on his heels and lifted her astride his hips. “Say it, Kya.”

  She hesitated a moment before her legs clutched his thighs. She did not act coy to flatter his ego. Her steady gaze held his. “I belong to you.”

  He grunted and thrust upward until he seated his dick fully inside her beguiling body. He rocked her hips and ground his pelvis hard against her tiny clit. “Again. Give me my name from your lips. I belong to you, Ja.”

  She arched backward over his hands, writhing upon him, her words little more than a whisper. “I belong to you, Ja. I want you.”

  The final shred of chivalry died. He explored her tender flesh roughly, impatient to make her burn. Tremors shivered through her slender limbs, fueling his passion higher. Her eager whimpers filled his mouth as he captured her swollen lips beneath
his. Desire blocked everything beyond her touch and feel. She bucked wildly against his aching cock. The puckered skin of her nipples rubbed across his chest, and heat seared through him. He caught one pert tip between his teeth and explored it with his tongue. Preliminary shockwaves rattled along his nerves. Blind need destroyed finesse. Her muscles flexed beneath his palms as she rose and fell upon him. Her fingers tightened on his biceps. Craving intensified. In tiny incoherent sobs, she pleaded as he played her clitoris. He worked the delicate bud firmly, rotating the pad of his thumb against the sensitive flesh.

  She thrashed in his arms, lifting closer and pulling away in fitful spurts. “Please…oh please.”

  He stilled her restless movements, one open palm pressed on her lower back keeping her close while the other steadied her for his thrusts. “Accept me, Kya. You’re mine to protect.”

  She buried her hands in his hair, acknowledging his dominance, but her tight grip demanded he recognize her own strength as well. “I can’t take much more. I want—”

  He pulled her slender form flush to his as her orgasm hit. She convulsed in his arms, his name repeated on her lips in enticing, erratic gasps.

  Without warning a white blankness swept across his mind, freezing all sensation moments before it exploded again, primitive and fierce. Violent shudders arched his back and shook his muscles. With a feral roar, he dropped her to the mattress, pressing his groin hard against hers. He sank his sharp eyeteeth deep into her shoulder, keeping her in place beneath him while his seed flooded her fertile womb in hot spurts and marked her as his alone.

  Chapter Two—Hannah’s World

  “I’m losing it, Malachi.” Hannah dropped to the cool cement in front of the wounded panther’s cage. Strange, green eyes stared back, unblinking. His gaze burned with intense emotion. Whether hatred or merely distrust, she could not tell. “I heard a man calling outside my room, again. Funny huh, me hearing voices? I’m the one who laughs at the tales of monsters and werewolves lurking in these woods.”

  Hannah laid her head against the high brick wall surrounding the cat compound with a sigh. Her fingers instinctively stroked the tiny puncture marks that had marred her throat since the night before Malachi’s arrival. Too many unexplainable things had happened over the past week, things which made her question even the most ordinary event. People did not awaken from erotic dreams marked by fantasy lovers. Strange voices that no one else heard did not rouse normal people from their sleep. And animals did not communicate their displeasure through human eyes.

  “This place has gone weird, Malachi.”

  The black cat growled from behind the steel bars, protesting his captive state. The irony of the refuge did not escape her: Creatures locked up to be free. Hannah blushed beneath the feline’s uncompromising scrutiny. “I know you want out of there, my beautiful friend, but your day will come. As soon as you’re well, Dr. Ferris will arrange your release in a game reserve where you can live out your life without fear. Concentrate on eating and quit resisting the vets. Can you do that for me?”

  “Talking to the animals, again, Hannah?”

  With a smile, Hannah shifted to make room for Dr. Grant Ferris as he settled against the wall beside her. “As long as they don’t start talking back, I’m in good shape.”

  “We can’t save them all. This one especially.” Grant slid his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against his fatherly comfort. “Harry says the cat’s allergic to tranquillizers. We could restrain him, but I can’t risk the harm he could do to the volunteers or the damage the stress might do to him. I’m concerned. If that wound goes untreated much longer, Malachi will lose the leg, or worse.”

  Hannah sat straighter and wrapped her arms around her knees as worry clenched her stomach. “Isn’t there someone who might know more about wildcats than Harry does?”

  “Harry already called around. The cat specialist can’t be here until Friday. I’m not sure we can wait that long.” The elderly vet patted her leg then chuckled as Malachi growled possessively. “He obviously likes you. Convince him to let us help, will you?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “That’s all I can ask.” Grant rose to his feet. An odd look flitted over his weathered features as he studied Malachi. “Trust her, boy. She won’t disappoint you.”

  Hannah watched as Grant disappeared into the darkness. The eccentric old man had started the sanctuary nearly fifty years before and had fought to make it one of the most respected rehabilitation centers in the nation. Most people didn’t know it existed. Many of those who did refused to enter through the gates. Stories of animal ghosts, shapeshifters, and other nightmare-based boogiemen had sent volunteers and curiosity seekers alike scurrying.

  “Maybe Grant started the rumors to keep people away. What do you think, Malachi?” Hannah rose, edging close to the safety line to study the beautiful creature. His black coat, dulled by dirt and blood, failed to gleam like it should have and his pace had slowed since he had arrived. “Your shoulder’s getting worse. You need to let us help you. Please. I don’t want to see you spend your life in a zoo or, worse, have to be put down.”

  “Why do people say it like that?”

  Startled, Hannah spun, backing toward the cat’s cage and away from the bodiless voice.

  A dark figure sprang from the shadows and swept her into powerful arms. “Have you lost your mind? Never get that near to a wounded animal, no matter how helpless it may seem.”

  Hannah shoved from the stranger’s embrace. He loomed nearly a foot taller than she did, making him around six four and intimidating as hell. Her heart drummed, but she stood her ground with hands on her hips and glared. “I am fully aware of safety procedures. If you hadn’t scared the shit out of me, I wouldn’t have gotten so close. I’m not stupid.”

  The tall, dark-haired man merely lifted an eyebrow before turning toward the cage. He moved with feline grace and a cold shiver raced up her spine. “What’s wrong with the pussycat?”

  “Someone shot him. Most likely Malachi grew too big. His keeper probably didn’t have a license for an exotic so he took the cat into the forest to eliminate him. He’s lucky to have survived.”

  “That’s a damned shame.”

  The venom in the man’s tone negated real compassion, and a half smile curled his full lips into a snarl. Foreboding welled in her stomach without reason. She shook it off, choosing to take his comment at face value instead. “The act of caging any wild beast for personal pleasure is selfish and ignorant to begin with. Fortunately, a local game warden found Malachi and brought him here. Unfortunately, he almost died of cardiac arrest from the tranquilizer dart. Now he’s developed an infection because no one can get close to him. Poor baby.”

  “Pain keeps him from letting down his guard.” The stranger chuckled condescendingly as he leaned toward the cage. “Isn’t that right, kitty cat? You’re a big old pussy when it comes to tough guy stuff.”

  Malachi grew agitated, his pacing more deliberate despite the obvious discomfort it caused him. Hannah looked at the man beside her. Something seemed familiar about him. The security light shone on his face, highlighting long black hair swept back and caught in a strip of leather at the base of his neck. The severe style emphasized his chiseled Native American features. She had seen him somewhere before, but as he turned toward her, his onyx eyes sent a shiver down her spine. Frightening intensity offset his dark good looks. “Who are you?”

  “A friend of the animals.”

  “Bullshit.” Hannah hated the term Grant had given the volunteers. Although most had good hearts, many were nothing more than attention seekers hoping to gain prestige as humanitarians. “If you were a volunteer, I’d know you. Everyone’s application comes across my desk for approval.”

  “I never said I was a volunteer.”

  “You implied—fine, if you’re not a volunteer, then you have no business here.”

  “I make it my business to help fellow creatures.” He turned back to stare at Malachi. �
�I would hate to see such a noble animal destroyed.”

  The casual comment sounded like a threat. Hannah’s stomach tightened. She wanted the man away from Malachi’s cage. He made her uncomfortable, for no obvious reason, and Malachi looked ready to pounce, despite the steel bars between them.

  “We need to go. We’re upsetting the cat.” Hannah stepped to the side of the path and gestured toward the gate. If the man refused to leave, she would alert Grant and have him take care of it. The stranger hesitated then reluctantly yielded to her command. As she followed him, Hannah cast Malachi a final look. The beautiful cat stood on alert, its entire body rigid. “Good night, Malachi. Sleep well.” She locked the gate behind her to ensure the stranger could not return.

  Hannah watched the man disappear into the night before she turned toward her cabin and ran smack into a solid chest. She screamed as strong arms kept her from falling.

  “Shh, it’s just me, Hannah.”

  She stepped back to stare into the shiny, chocolate eyes of the night watchman, Ryan Jones. His beautiful, ebony skin almost disappeared in the darkness. “You scared the crap out of me, Ryan.”

  His smile flashed as he chuckled softly. “Sorry, I heard voices.”

  Hannah looked over her shoulder. “There’s some guy sneaking around. Could you keep an eye out, especially around the cat enclosure? Malachi doesn’t seem to like him much.”

  He smiled and patted her back like he always did, as if she were five instead of twenty-five. “You get some sleep. I’ll take care of your cat.”

  “Thanks. You’re a prince.”

  “Get on home now so I don’t have to worry about you, too.”

  “I’m going.” Ryan would keep Malachi safe. No one would stand a chance against the gentle giant. Impulsively, she turned back and hugged him once more. “Thanks, again.”