“No. But you are the reason she’s here.” He knew it as surely as he knew his mate by her scent, her walk and her touch. Her loyalty to this one Amazon kept her trapped in slave bands, prisoner to the Arcana Royale—a royal hostage. His heart swelled with admiration and respect for Roseâtre’s giving heart. But his soul thrashed at the idea of her submission.
It was not just the Amazon princess the Overseers held now, but his mind. Neither he nor his cat would settle for this slavery.
Not for her.
The key on his chest burned against his skin. She’d refused every attempt to remove the bands. And she also refused the gift of potential freedom when he tried to give it to her.
“I did not ask her to do this for me.” Cerveau recoiled, her mouth open as though she intended further speech when Roseâtre appeared. Her hazel eyes snapped at him, hot and furious.
He held up a hand, palm forward, but her temper washed through him like a hot summer breeze. “Cerveau, we’re supposed to be practicing.”
Anthony considered placating her or at least making peace, but the blonde Amazon surprised him, she twisted to face the princess. “Did you stay here because of me?”
“Cerveau…”
“Rose. Answer me.” The little mouse with the ice-cold eyes had spine and while he couldn’t see her expression, no one could mistake the edge of steel in her voice.
“I stayed because of me. Don’t listen to the cat. He’s mad because I won’t choose him.” The words lashed at him, scoring deep. “We need to practice—”
“You did stay because of me. Dammit, Rose, I’m not a child.” Cerveau waved off Roseâtre’s hand and stalked away, her posture stiff. But it was her scent that pulled Anthony—terror mingled in sadness.
“How dare you?” Roseâtre growled at him and pivoted to stalk after her friend. The man in him recognized that he should let her go, he’d pushed her temper, but he caught her arm and tugged her back against him. Her rigid posture refused to yield even when he nuzzled the back of her neck.
“I dare because you’re my mate, Roseâtre.” He kept his tone simple. “Mates don’t hold back. Your battles…”
“…are not yours. Dammit, Anthony.” She turned in his arms and slid her own around him, squeezing him. The hostile Amazon in her sharpened, but failed to dilute the woman. “You have to leave this alone.”
“Tell me why.”
“Because if you continue to challenge it…” Her mouth compressed and she sucked in a noisy breath and released it in near silence. “Because you could get hurt. They could come after you and use it as leverage.”
“So now, you protect your shield-sister and you protect me.” The cat in him arched his back, proud that his mate wanted him safe, but they would not let her take the hits for them.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“No. I treasure it.” He stroked his finger down her cheek to her throat and then traced the hidden collar. Whatever magic kept it fastened into place also disguised it. “But I can’t allow you to do that.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman?” The bite in her words barely brushed him and he chuckled, kissing her angry mouth until her lips softened and a sigh escaped.
“No,” he whispered. “Because you’re mine and I protect what’s mine.”
It took great force of effort to let her go, but he did. If she would not tell him the truth—then perhaps her stage manager would.
“You have to make him stop.” Roseâtre planted her palms against Heidi’s desk. Minion bounced from chair to chair until she landed on Roseâtre’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around her neck. The little imp was equal parts annoying and sweet.
“You need a hug,” Minion announced confidently and snuggled closer. She lifted a hand to stroke the little one’s hair, but didn’t take her gaze away from the stage manager writing in the giant monster of a book covering most of her desk space.
“What Mr. diNapoli chooses to do is not up to me, Roseâtre.”
“Of course it is. You manage everything.”
Heidi glanced up from the book and a fraction of a smile eased her expression. Setting the pen aside, she leaned back in the chair and interlaced her fingers over her belly. “What do you want me to do?”
“Get the key back, for one, and convince him that he doesn’t have to free me.” The words left her in a rush, but she managed to clamp down on the request to protect him. Heidi’s impassive expression revealed nothing of her thoughts.
“He has the key because you couldn’t get along with him safely. That was your decision, not mine.” Heidi studied her. “As for whether or not he will free you, that’s his decision—to a point.”
She wanted to bang her fists against the desk, but she curled them into fists, nails biting into her palms. Temper never persuaded Heidi. “If he frees me, you lose two lead dancers in as many months.”
“True and I have an entire chorus line to choose from. Sit down, Roseâtre.” Heidi waved to the chair opposite her and picked up her pen. “You need to think this all the way through.”
To her amazement, Heidi went back to writing in her book. Still holding the snuggling Minion, she obeyed the stage manager and sat. “Think what through?”
“All of it. You’re reacting—a bad habit of yours I must admit. I would think you learned that lesson when you joined the show, but apparently not.” Heidi’s pen scratched along the paper.
“I’m not reacting. I’m trying to protect—” She broke off on that sentence. Anthony said she was trying to protect him as she did her shield-sister. She wasn’t allowing him a choice in the matter.
Nor had she really allowed Cerveau.
But an oath is an oath. I made my choice when I made that oath…
“And now she thinks.” Heidi didn’t look up. She simply turned the page, dipped her pen in the inkwell and returned to her notes.
Minion patted her hair. “You don’t have to think. It’s a lot more trouble than it’s worth.” The little one giggled and bounced off her shoulder to land on the desk—perching carefully lest she disturb the page Heidi worked on. She picked up a puzzle box and began to work the shifting pattern on the top.
“Why is Anthony here?”
“Because I needed an act to help bring more customers inside. We’ve had too sharp a decline since Pandora left.”
“I get that.” Roseâtre tread carefully. “But why Anthony? Why a weretiger when you know my Tribe and his Pride have been mortal enemies for centuries?”
“Have they now? How very Bronze Age of them.” Heidi sighed and set aside her pen again. Roseâtre refused to take the bait of the deflection and stared at the stage manager. “Let me ask you a question. Why are you here?”
“You know why.”
“No, here in my office. Why are you here?”
“Because Anthony won’t let it go.” At Heidi’s arched eyebrow, she fumbled and clamped her mouth shut. Why was she asking for Heidi’s help? Just the thought of Anthony made her pulse race. She loved his scent. Adored how he wrapped his arms around her and insisted that she stay in his suite even when the sun claimed her soul.
The pain and torture in his eyes that turned to light when she awoke each of the past four evenings welcomed her, embraced her—seduced her. Working together the last three nights, even as grueling as rehearsal became, were some of the best in recent memory.
In my whole life. To be honest. She didn’t shy away from the truth or the pain. I’ve never felt like this and I don’t want to lose it—or him. So why am I asking Heidi to stop him?
Her heart squeezed in her chest.
“Do you still wish me to intervene?” Heidi and Minion both stared at her, twin expressions of patience and amusement on their faces.