Burning Wild
Page 103

 Christine Feehan

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“My cat’s reaction is instinctive.”
She smiled at him. “You are your cat. Your cat is protective, and so are you. He’s strong. So are you. Whatever is inside of you is inside your cat. You aren’t separate, Jake. You’re one and the same.”
He was silent for a long time, his teeth scraping back and forth on the tips of her fingers. “What you’re really saying is that my leopard is a convenience for me to blame all my worst traits on.”
“Possibly. I know what my mother was like. Yes, she had a temper and she could be jealous and possessive, but she didn’t let it rule her. Your leopard is still you. If you aren’t separate, you have to accept that part of you.”
“You sound like Drake now.” He rolled onto his back, taking her hand with him. “There are so many animal traits not to like, Emma. I don’t like that possibility.”
“But there are so many to like,” she pointed out.
“I was lying here watching you sleep and planning to kill them—the enemies. I should have killed them a long time ago. Is that normal? Is that something people do? How they think? Is that me, or my leopard?”
“You and your leopard are one in the same. You’re more aggressive than the average man, but that just means you need to have stronger control. Of course you want to eliminate any threat to your family. Some people might think about killing someone, but they don’t actually do it. That’s one of those unacceptable things you don’t ever do if it’s possible to avoid it.”
“No one else is going to stop them. They’ll keep coming at us.” His hand slid over her hair. “I don’t honestly know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
“You’d take care of our children.” She propped herself up on her elbows and pushed back the dark fall of hair spilling across his forehead. “That’s what you’d do, Jake.”
His hand came up to the nape of her neck. She could feel his body trembling as he pulled her head down to his so he could find her mouth. His kiss tasted of tears. Of love. Of everything he couldn’t say aloud. He was tender, incredibly gentle.
“You’re so beautiful, Emma. And I don’t mean physically, although you’re that too. I don’t know where you came from, but it wasn’t anywhere here on this earth.”
She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart. “I’ve got leopard blood running in my veins, Jake. Believe me, I have the same bad temper and jealous streak that you do.”
“I feel lost tonight,” he whispered, holding her to him there in the dark.
“It’s all right,” she said softly. “I’m here and I won’t let anything happen to you.” She closed her eyes and let herself relax against his body.
“Mommy?” Both turned their heads toward the door, where Kyle stood uncertainly. “I’m afraid.”
They both held out a hand simultaneously. “Come here, son,” Jake encouraged. Kyle climbed onto the bed and Jake tucked him between them. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re safe.”
“Daddy?” Andraya took her brother’s place in the doorway. She’d either seen Kyle coming out of his room, or he’d awakened her to accompany him, which was more likely.
Jake uttered a soft groan and beckoned her, his smile widening when he looked at Emma. Andraya crawled over her father and, ignoring Kyle, wedged herself in the middle, wiggling until she found a comfortable position. Jake put his arm around all of them—his family—and lay back, his fingers tangling with Emma’s, remembering that it wasn’t that long ago that he was completely alone in his house. Now, they could barely fit in the bed.
“We’ll have to have another one to fill this space over here on my side,” Jake said, patting the only bare spot he could find.
Emma’s fingers tightened around his. “We’ll have to get a bigger bed.”
Jake fell asleep first and Emma watched him, sleeping like their children. He didn’t look younger, only more relaxed. Her heart ached for him. He was struggling to become the man she knew he wanted to be, but he fought it every step of the way, terrified of being vulnerable. She could have told him it was already too late, that he was already there, but she knew he had to come to that realization on his own—not just in a moment in the middle of the night when it was dark and he didn’t have to look her in the eye. He had to accept that he knew how to love all of them. Her. The children. Their life together.
She drifted off, dreaming of her mother and the way Emma had always wanted to run with her. She loved it when her mother would assume her animal form and she could lie next to her, fingers tangled in her fur, feeling the extraordinary pleasure of being so close to something wild and powerful. Her father wasn’t a shifter, and the odds were against her ever being like her mother. At least she had Jake and she could rub her face in his fur and get her fix that way.
Emma woke to the sound of laughter and several whispering voices. Conspiracy hung heavy in the air. She turned her head and saw them all lined up. The ones she loved. Jake, between Kyle and Andraya. He held a tray and they each carried a flower. She sat up. Jake grinned at her as the sheet slipped, revealing the curve of her breast, and she was forced to yank it up quickly. He set the tray down and handed her a shirt from her closet. It was a button-down, and she hastily put it on, doing up the buttons under his amused gaze.
“We made breakfast, Mommy,” Kyle announced.