Vivi Andrews - Jaguar's Kiss

“You don’t understand.”

“Lila, I’m the only one who understands.”

“That isn’t what I meant. It’s not about being the Alpha’s mate. I’m not you. Marrying Roman wouldn’t just be doing my duty for the pride. It would be giving up my chance at being truly happy.”

“Duty is its own happiness. The satisfaction can be so much richer than personal gratification. I know you won’t be the same kind of Alpha’s mate I am, but you’ll be strong in your own way. In your own right.”

“You don’t understand,” Lila said again. “You never had to give up a chance at love—”

“Didn’t I?”

Lila went still at the words, soft, but with a subtle sharpness, a well-honed blade in two tiny words. “Who?”

“Does it matter?” Lucienne turned her head then, meeting Lila’s eyes with such simple directness. “I never regretted my decision to be with your father. Just as you will never regret marrying Roman. He’s a good man, Lila.”

“I know he’s a good man, Mom. But he’s not mine .” Her man was flawed. Demanding and temperamental and romantic and playful in the most surprising ways. Their children may never be able to shift and they may never be accepted into a pride if Lone Pine threw them out. But none of that could counter the fact that he was hers .

“I thought you’d outgrown that sort of childish romanticism.”

“Apparently not.”

Her mother frowned, disapproval in every line of her face. “Have you even thought about what this little rebellion of yours could do to the pride?”

Lila gave a soft, scoffing laugh. “I’ve thought of nothing else for days .”

“Then you know what you’re doing impacts more people than just you and Roman and this panther .” She made the breed sound like an epithet. “Lila, be sensible. I was tempted once too. It wasn’t easy choosing your father when my heart was leading me elsewhere, but it was the right choice.”

“And the man you loved? What did he have to say about it?”

“He agreed it was right for the good of the pride. We both love this place—and your father, in our own ways.”

Hugo . The penny dropped and Lila had to swallow her gasp. Her mother had once been in love with her father’s best friend. A bear shifter she could never marry. Holy shit.

“After I made my choice, we never acted on our feelings, because we both knew it would have a negative impact on the pride.”

So noble. And so stupid. Funny how hearing her mother talk about exactly what she had been thinking of doing to Santiago made it clear how heartless it all was. How wrong for her. She wasn’t her mother. She would always regret it if she left Santiago. Whether their children could shift or not, Lila wanted them to be his. Jaguars, lions, some kind of hybrid, she didn’t care. She just wanted them to be healthy and have his eyes and his laugh.

She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life always wondering if she could have been happier with the man who promised to love her while married by obligation to a man who never truly would.

Lila Fallon wanted the goddamn fairy tale.

“You want me to marry Roman, answer me one question. The man you gave up. Do you still love him?”

Silence stretched until Lila thought her mother wouldn’t answer—which was answer enough. Then, “In a way, I suppose I do. But I love the pride more.”

She supposed.

No, Lila was not her mother. She would never suppose her emotions, living that half-life of all head and no heart. She was a romantic. She supposed she always had been, but it had taken a jaguar’s kiss to wake her up to the fire of longing in her soul.

She would do what she could to make sure it wouldn’t weaken the pride, but she just couldn’t see how denying her heart could possibly make the pride stronger. She couldn’t be happy if she gave Santiago up. It would eat away at her, and who benefited from that?

Her mother straightened away from the bumper, dusting off her hands. “We should get back to the pride. I’m sure we’ve been missed. We’ll tell your father and Roman we were busy with wedding preparations and lost track of time. Perhaps tomorrow we should go into town and you can try on some wedding dresses.” She smiled. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride, Lila. You’ll make the whole pride proud.”

No. She wouldn’t. But maybe that wasn’t such a crime. Maybe she didn’t have to live her life for the approval and happiness of others.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I can’t.”

She didn’t wait to hear her mother’s argument, didn’t even bother stripping out of her clothes, just shifted, ignoring the discomfort of her clothing shredding from her body as her furred form burst through. She leapt into motion, the ground blurring beneath her paws as she ran.

He’d said he would wait, but she couldn’t. Not anymore. She didn’t want to waste another second.

Lila had always been fast, but she’d never had a reason to run like she did tonight. The miles vanished under her paws.

Santiago streaked through the forest, one more shadow among shadows. He’d told Lila he would wait for her, but it wasn’t in him to just sit back and wait for fate to decide for him. He needed action, so he’d slipped back onto pride land and was racing through the night toward the main compound.

Not to see Lila, though he desperately wanted to wrap his arms around her and take away all her troubles. He’d meant it when he said he would try to give her space. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go see Patch. No one knew Lila better—and few knew the pride as well as Patch did either. If anyone could help him understand the mess of politics and power plays involved in lion prides, Patch would. Another independent cat who had learned how to navigate these treacherous waters.

He needed to find a way through this mess that didn’t involve Lila having to choose between him and her pride. Because she would never be happy with him if she had to hurt others to be with him. He wanted her without guilt and regrets.

And she loved it here. He didn’t want her to have to leave her home to be with him. She was a lioness. Cutting her away from the pride entirely would be like the loss of a limb to her. There had to be another way.

A flash of golden fur in the moonlight shot across the edge of his vision. He almost ignored it—it could be any one of dozens of lions out for a midnight run—but then a scent on the breeze teased his senses. A very familiar scent. Lila .

He changed direction, giving chase. He stretched out, long legs reaching. She was fast—so damn fast for a lioness—but jaguars were built for speed. Even so, he barely gained ground. She stayed ahead of him, a golden bolt of lightning as the forest opened up into a field.

Santiago roared, the sound rushing ahead of him to her. He saw her steps falter, her pace slowing, ears twitching back, then with a twitch of her tail she was off again, almost as fast, but darting to the north, giving him a chance to take an angle to cut her off. But still he couldn’t quite run her down.

She let him get close before putting on another burst of speed. He surged after her and she stopped suddenly, claws digging grooves into the earth as she pivoted sharply. His paws slid out from under him when he tried to change direction too quickly and she danced around in a playful circle, chuffing at him in feline laughter. He let her circle close, coiling his body beneath him and leaping with no warning, his paws striking her shoulder and rolling her.

She snarled and snapped at him, half-heartedly batting him away, but he caught her by the scruff, tightening his jaws just enough to prove his victory. He was big for a jaguar, so in weight they were pretty evenly matched. She might have been able to shake him off, but instead she swatted him playfully and made a little huffing noise until he released her and pulled back enough to shift.