Jane Godman - Awakening The Shifter

But the feeling that tore through her as she reached Khan had nothing to do with the triumph or relief of this night. It had nothing to do with viewing figures or pledges. It was about him. Something crackled in the air between them and around them. It was electrifying, thrilling and scaring her at the same time.

The film footage she had watched hadn’t done Khan justice. He was startlingly handsome. Tall, with a lithe, muscular grace, his features almost perfect. He had high, carved cheekbones, a straight nose and breathtaking amber eyes. Almost perfect because his mouth was too full and sensual for perfection. But those eyes...they were mesmerizing. Set under slanting brows, they reminded her of a cat’s in the way they drew her in and refused to let her go. As he closed the gap between them, he was staring at her with an expression she couldn’t fathom. He could have been playing a part for the audience, but, if he was, he was good. Frighteningly good. Because she was instantly swept away by the hunger in his gaze.

This song wasn’t supposed to be sexy, for God’s sake. But the way Khan was standing behind her, not touching her, but almost touching her, his body moving in sinful time to the music...nothing had ever affected her this way. It was as if he was an illegal high and she was dragged into addiction after her first hit.

As they sang the last verse, Sarange was barely aware of the other acts who had performed throughout the course of the evening joining them on the stage. This night would go down in history. It would be remembered as the night she had alerted the world to her cause. And in her own life it was the night everything would change because she had met Khan.

When the song ended and the sound of Khan’s voice died away, she felt bereft. He still hadn’t touched her. Not once had he placed a hand upon her. She closed her eyes, willing him to do it now. To wrap his arms around her waist as he stood behind her on the stage. To let her feel the warmth of his body as they swayed in time to the music.

She opened her eyes to see a close-up of her face projected onto the giant screen at the rear of the stage. To the watching millions, the look of enchantment in her eyes had to do with the concert. Only Sarange knew the truth. She wondered if Khan had guessed. He was the reason for her rapture. Turning her head, she sought his gaze for confirmation.

She didn’t get it. Khan had already left the stage.

* * *

Because of the number of acts performing in the stadium, there hadn’t been enough dressing rooms for everyone, and Beast had been forced to share. They had arrived in Los Angeles that morning at the end of a three-month tour. Now that the concert was over, their tour bus would be taking them to New York, where the band was based. Predictably, the roads around the stadium were blocked. Their security team had advised them to remain in the dressing room, and they faced a lengthy wait before they could depart.

It was always the same when they were together for any length of time. At least on the bus there were sleeping compartments where they could escape each other’s company. Now there were five massive egos competing for space in a small room.

“This sounds like the start of a bad shifter joke,” Dev said.

Diablo scowled at him from under lowered brows. “What does?”

“Us, all crammed into this room. You know. A tiger, a dragon, a black panther, a snow leopard and a wolf...” Apparently sensing he had lost his audience, Dev shrugged and lapsed into silence.

The atmosphere had reached the point where sizzling tension was about to become boiling animosity, when Sarange burst through the door and jabbed a finger into Khan’s chest. “You arrogant jerk!”

Khan, who was stretched full-length on the only sofa in the room, opened his eyes as she leaned over him. Although her presence made his pulse soar, he managed to hide the effect she had on his emotions.

“I’m an arrogant jerk who is trying to get some rest.” He closed his eyes again.

“How dare you walk off that stage like it didn’t matter? Like you had someplace more important to be?”

Khan sighed and uncurled his limbs. Stretching, he got to his feet and looked down at her. Her hands were on her hips, and her lips were drawn back. Werewolves generally steered clear of confronting him. The hierarchy that existed in the animal world also applied to shifters. Tigers outranked wolves. It was a simple matter of superior size, strength, razor-sharp claws and lethal teeth. Even so, Sarange was displaying clear signs of wolf rage. Snapping and snarling. Normally he found it so unattractive. On her it was hot as hell.

“I thought I was a volunteer out there on that stage.” Khan kept his voice light, knowing how much it would annoy her. He needed to infuriate her further if he was going to push her away. “Pardon me for not realizing I signed up to the slavery option.”

Her indrawn breath was so harsh it sounded like a growl. He had to grip his hands hard at his sides to stop himself from shoving her up against the wall right there and then before hauling up the hem of that too-sexy dress.

“I think this is our cue to leave.” Torque jerked a thumb in the direction of the door.

“Really?” Dev looked from Sarange’s furious expression to Khan’s watchful one. “Looks like this could get interesting.”

“No need to go, guys.” Khan tossed the words over his shoulder without breaking eye contact with Sarange. “Our visitor isn’t staying.”

He saw Torque wince at his dismissive tone. That distaste was the effect Khan wanted to have on Sarange. He needed to drive her away. Right away. Make her view him with hatred and contempt. If he couldn’t make this aching, burning longing go away, he could at least make sure nothing ever came of it.

Although she was looking at him with scorn, Sarange wasn’t going anywhere. She had come here with a purpose, and with classic wolf tenacity, she was going to see it through. His bandmates had clearly recognized her intention and, following Torque’s lead, were heading for the door. Khan couldn’t even call them on it. Couldn’t question their loyalty. Over the years, his relationship with them had become the closest thing he had to friendship. But he was a tiger. A big cat loner. Powerful, sensual, selfish and controlling. His need to dominate the group was far greater than his human need to be liked.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Sarange was back on the attack. Like a beautiful wolf gnawing on a bone. “I was warned about you. Narcissist. Playboy. Jerk. That’s what I was told. I don’t know why I thought you’d be different.”

“Nor do I.”

A strangled sound of fury issued from her throat. “You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”

He laughed. “This is nothing. I can get a lot worse.”

She drew a breath. “You made a commitment to this concert. You were the headline act. When you walked out on the finale, you gave a message to the audience that it didn’t matter—”

He flapped a hand at her. “I get it. Let it go, wolf girl.”

Her brow furrowed. “Wolf girl? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Khan stared down at her, incredulity jolting him out of his attempted nonchalance. She appeared genuinely confused. What the hell reason could she have to pretend not to be a werewolf? Was it possible Sarange didn’t know she was a shifter? He’d never heard of that happening before, couldn’t believe it was conceivable. Yet she was looking at him as though he was crazy.

Maybe that was the explanation. He might just be crazy after all. Had he gotten this all wrong? Could it be that she wasn’t a werewolf? He dismissed that thought instantly. Khan’s shifter instincts were pure and true. Beneath the expensive perfume she wore, the scent of Sarange’s skin made his nostrils flare. She smelled of female wolf. Of lichens and berries, frost and pine. Of dark, sharp evergreens and ice-hard ground. It was an aroma that should have been alien to his inner cat. Instead, it was making his mouth water.