King's Throne(41)
The seconds ticked by in slow motion as she realized she was completely immobilized by his hold. He could do whatever he wanted with her and she was powerless against him—on so many levels. She wanted to surrender, to tell him to do his worst. Because she was certain his worst was better than the best she’d ever had. But they weren’t alone.
Not that it mattered much among shifters, but Gina had been raised a little apart from the rest of her kind. She didn’t always like the distance other shifters put between her and them when they knew who she was. And the only shifters she’d ever interacted with closely enough to want that normal shifter intimacy with were those she’d grown up with. In the city, she’d steered clear of Others of every kind and gave shifters in particular a wide berth. Until Cade and Mitch had sniffed her out, she’d never gotten close enough to another big-cat shifter to have been discovered.
Mitch held her in his arms, his hold loosening by slow degrees as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with her. It got to the point where she had a little bit of wiggle room and might’ve been able to counter the hold, but why would she? Her body was exactly where it craved to be—plastered against Mitch.
The only thing that would be better was if they were both naked. She looked up at him and their gazes caught and held. He dipped his head by slow degrees.
“I think you can let her go now.” Her father’s booming voice came from near the doorway.
Shit.
Mitch tightened his arms for a fraction of a second before he complied, releasing her. Gina cursed inwardly. He’d been about to plant one on her and she’d had just enough of his kisses to crave more. She thought maybe she was becoming an addict. Addicted to Mitch. Yeah, it was a harsh truth that she’d have to live with. Gina almost laughed aloud at her thoughts, but her father was waiting and the king wasn’t known for his patience.
Mitch, to his credit, faced the tiger king after unwrapping his arms from around her, but he didn’t let go of her completely. He kept hold of her hand as they faced her father’s possible wrath side-by-side. Together. A united front. Only she was pretty sure Mitch would jump in front of her if her dad made even the slightest angry motion toward her.
But her dad wasn’t going to get violent. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He enforced his will with loud words and frowns, more than anything else. At least where she was concerned. He’d never raised a hand to her in anger and she knew he never would.
“How much did you see?” she asked her father, trying to defuse the situation.
“Enough.” The king nodded, the frown on his face speaking of the intimate hold he’d broken up. But then his expression cleared and he looked intrigued. “Is this what the tigre Royal Guard is taught now? I have never seen anything quite like that fighting style. It’s athletic but subtle. More stealthy than our usual fare.”
Mitch finally let go of her hand and stepped forward, reaching for the towel he’d discarded earlier as he walked off the mats and went to talk with her father. Everyone else got up and toweled off, clustering around her dad to see what Mitch would reveal about the techniques that had put them all on their asses. It wasn’t something they were used to. Each one of the Millers and their extended family were highly trained and very capable warriors.
“I wasn’t trained fully by tigers. When it became apparent that I was outstripping my teachers, I was sent to the pantera noir for more advanced study. I was thirteen,” Mitch revealed.
“I knew you were working for the panthers, but I didn’t realize you’d trained with them too. How did that come about?” King Frederick asked. Everyone listened, waiting to hear what Mitch would say.
“One of my teachers had a contact among the pantera noir and he used it to get me into their training program.”
“The only Guard I knew who had friends among the panthers was Geir Falkes. His aunt married into that secretive Clan, I believe.”
Mitch shouldn’t have been surprised by the exiled king’s knowledge. Geir had been a young Guard when the king had left. He hadn’t been part of Frederick’s inner circle, though he’d been a hellacious fighter, even back then. The void left by the departure of so many of the top Royal Guards and their families had allowed Geir to move up the ranks quickly so that he’d become a teacher of other Guards at a much younger age than most of his predecessors.
Mitch had been a protégé of sorts. Almost a younger brother to the highly skilled warrior, who was still in his prime. It had been hard for Mitch to leave Geir behind when he’d finished his training, but he had known it was for the best.