The woman was his. His mate. He would kill them before he surrendered her. “Ethan.” His mate made a noise. Though the sound made no sense, her voice wicked some of his aggression away. He turned his shoulder toward her, but didn’t take his attention from the other lions. She made a string of noises and the other lions backed away. He watched them until they were out of sight, then walked back to his mate. She was still kneeling. He butted her with his head. “Ethan.” She knotted her fingers in his mane. “I know you’re in there. I need you to come back.” Something stirred inside him. The lion shrank away from it. That way lay rejection, confusion, pain. She slid her hand down his front leg and put her hand on his paw. She made more noises and against his will they resolved into words. “You’re beautiful in this form, spectacular, but I can’t hold your hand.”
