And though the need for caution was uppermost, no doubt, her ability to feign submission no longer existed.
“I never imagined you were a puppet, but I think you and I are both aware of the fact that Raymond’s association with the Genetics Council is more a threat to you than you’re willing to admit.” It was a reminder.
A reminder that her past was known by Raymond as well as Jonas, her real identity a weakness she couldn’t escape. And one Raymond had no doubt already reported to those willing to supply him with the funds he believed would aid in exonerating him on the charges the Breeds had brought against him. The list was extensive.
“Child.” Orrin rose as well, his wrinkled face, gray braids and frail body a reminder that age was taking him from so many who loved him. “You must do as your heart, as your spirit, guides you, not as those who love you would have you do. But the danger is not something you will face alone,” he told her. His voice was gentle, but still, he was encouraging her to face this without the family she’d depended upon as Claire Martinez. “You will never face that life, or any danger that would find you, alone.”
Another reminder, one he’d given her thirteen years before. There were those who watched out for her, who would never see her harmed if they could deflect the danger first. In all the years she’d been protected beneath his granddaughter’s identity, she’d never asked them for help either.
“Orrin, respectfully, that’s bullshit,” Jonas objected sharply, anger snapping in his voice with such strength that he drew the attention of the entire room.
Silver eyes seemed shot with mercury as they obscured the black pupils, swirling with a primal, primitive rage that would have affected her if she hadn’t been used to such a look long before she’d come to this desert land.
“Perhaps, Director, you are the one full of bullshit,” Orrin suggested smoothly, by no means intimidated by the Lion Breed either. “This is her fate, not yours. The questions you claimed to have when you came here have been answered. You have what you assured us you were searching for, the answers to your daughter’s health. You can leave now. The safety and protection of our own, we can handle.”
Orrin’s deliberately arrogant claim filled the air with anger. With Wyatt’s anger.
“But she isn’t yours, is she? No matter how much she claims to be. When do the lies stop?” His hands smacked on the table as he leaned forward, the sight of blood-tipped claws now protruding from the tips of his fingers an assurance that the primal genetics he possessed were rising hard and fast inside him. “Do you take me for a fool? Do you imagine I don’t for a second know who and what you are?”
He stared at her, knowledge and demand burning his gaze. He was her genetic superior, that gaze seemed to remind her. She would submit. She would follow his lead. She would . . . tell him to go to hell if he kept trying to intimidate her in such a way.
“I take you for a bastard!”
Before she could restrain the urge, the tigress that resided inside, normally silent and well hidden, slipped its leash. Her own claws emerged before her hands slapped to the table as well. She could feel the markings at the sides of her face shadowing her flesh, feel the incisors at the sides of her mouth dropping lower, feel the animal infused in her genetics merging with the human.
Shock filled the room. Satisfaction filled Wyatt’s gaze. Did he truly believe he’d maneuvered her so easily? That she hadn’t considered the consequences to what she had just done.
“You are an unregistered Breed female,” Jonas snarled, his voice a lash of icy dominance. “You will do as you’re told by the only alpha claiming you.”
The only alpha claiming her? He was as insane as he believed the Bengal he was chasing to be.
Thankfully, being claimed didn’t count if she didn’t want it to.
Lobo eased to his feet, though not in fear, not even wariness. Sharp interest definitely, and a hint of concern for her, not of her.
“You are no alpha of mine, Director,” she assured him, her tone sharp, melodic, rather than rough as many males’ voices were when their animals slipped free. “That scent of demand, that look of furious command, has no effect on me. My alpha marked me years ago and no other will usurp his place no matter how hard they may try.”
She had accepted her alpha freely when the tigress inside her first showed itself. The mark of that acceptance, not just by her but by the animal inside her couldn’t be wiped away, no matter how she’d already attempted to erase it.
“An alpha who wants you dead.” The reminder was given with a baring of sharp incisors and a flash of fury.