Son of Kong (Sons of Beasts #2)

She hissed at him.

Hell no.





Chapter Nine


Torren had bolted.

That was the only word she could think of when he asked her to stay where she was in that sexy, snarly voice of his. Stay while he gracefully glided on all fours toward a dilapidated staircase. He didn’t take the stairs like a human, nope. He scaled the side of it, pulling himself up and up until he slipped over the ledge and made his way into the office on the second level. The big window was cracked, but she could still see his rampage and hear the deafening crash as he threw something against the wall.

He was king. She was going to dig in and do as much research about gorilla shifters as possible, but he’d gone to war with two massive silverbacks tonight and held his own. And then he’d shelved his rage—for her. But now he was losing it up there.

Her heart ached for him.

Inhaling deep, she closed her eyes and tucked her tiger back inside her. The clothes she’d worn would be shredded and useless, even if she could find them under the pile of rubble. She still tried, rummaging around for at least a shirt, but stopped when she found the two wads of cash. Cash he’d fought for. Cash he would give to his sister so she could hear.

There was another deafening crash above. He’d asked her to stay down here so she wouldn’t have to witness the rage that took the animal after a fight gone bad, but it was important that she see it.

Slowly, she made her way up the stairs, and at the top, she stared sadly at a big dent in the middle of the metal door. She put her fist in it. It was much bigger than her own knuckles—that of a silverback fist.

Pain. This was a man full of pain, and stuck in a life he couldn’t escape. Being king wasn’t all it was cracked up to be when the crown didn’t fit the man.

Candace pushed open the door and stepped inside. She hesitated. There had been a desk, but it was in splinters. There were holes in the walls and broken chairs, a broken bookshelf. The only thing left untouched was a charcoal gray couch where Torren sat, face in his battered, tattooed hands. He was human again, and his black hair stood up in spikes as though he’d ran his hands through it roughly. He was still puffed up, every muscle in his body tensed.

“I don’t want you to see me like this. Afterward…it’s hard.”

“Because of guilt?”

“Most of the time,” he rumbled, not removing his face from his hands. “Tonight, it’s different.”

After the span of a few heartbeats, Candace made her way to him, pushed his shoulders back, and straddled his lap. She cupped his cheeks and searched his blazing green eyes. “Tell me.”

Torren was pale, and streams of drying blood ran down his chest from a bite at the base of his neck that was already closed, and well on its way to healing. Powerhouse. Powerful. Magic. The new Kong would be damn near invincible if he took his place at the head of the gorillas.

“You Changed,” he murmured, slipping his giant hands to her bare hips. He gripped her hard and clenched his teeth. “You Changed to defend me, and you were so fucking beautiful. Fearless. I got to see you for the first time. Tigress. Badass. Tiiiiny stripes. All orange and white, eyes blazing with the promise of vengeance for those gorillas. Why?”

“I told Dax to settle. That he couldn’t go two gorillas on one. He didn’t listen, and I wasn’t going to watch you get shredded.”

“You wouldn’t, would you? You’re a ride-or-die girl, aren’t you, Candace?”

She nodded once.

“Fuck.” Torren gave his attention to the side, but she pulled his face back to her.

“You pulled Colt off me before he got to my face. You protected me, too. You’re a ride-or-die too, aren’t you, HavoK?”

He smirked and let off a single humorless laugh. “I think you knew that before you saw me defend you. Because of Vyr.”

“Vyr, and now me. You gonna make me safe, Torren?”

“You’re so fucking safe around me, it’s ridiculous. Anyone who messes with you? They’re in trouble. I won’t have much control over what I do to them.”

She rolled her eyes closed at that oath. “I haven’t felt safe since my dad died. I’ve been on my own, in this world I didn’t prepare for.”

“The club?”

“Yes. I was a good girl, and now I’m not.”

“Fuck that noise. You’re good enough, Candace. If you were your old self, you wouldn’t be here, taming a riled-up silverback shifter in an old sawmill. You wouldn’t have gone teeth and claws first after a dominant shifter just to protect a wreck like me. You wouldn’t have looked twice at me.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not. I wouldn’t have let you. I think what you’ve been through has toughened you up. It’s conditioned you to match me. I wasn’t sure, but I think after tonight, you won’t be walking behind me or in front of me. You’ll be perfectly comfortable right beside me. Won’t you?”

She ran her nails down the sides of his head and smiled when he was the one who rolled his eyes closed and made a satisfied rumbling sound deep in his throat. “Bad Boy from Damon’s Mountains. Are you saying we match?”

“Bad Girl from Vyr’s Mountains. I think the person you are now is maybe the person I need.” His grip tightened on her waist, and he dragged her forward onto his hard erection. “Any softer, and I would be too scared to draw you into my life. Any harder, and you couldn’t tame the monster inside of me. And that’s what you’re doing…right? That’s why I’m Changed back now and settled. Why I’m not beating myself up, wondering why I can’t be less fucked-up like other shifters. It’s why tonight is easy. Why I feel fine being just who I am.”

“If you weren’t this. If you weren’t HavoK, I don’t think I could feel safe like I need to. I’ve chased every boy away because they made me feel like I needed to pretend to be normal, and good. You’re different. I don’t need money, Torren. I can take care of myself. My love language doesn’t include lavish presents. It’s feeling safe with someone, and comfortable being in my own skin. It’s having someone accept me, even the gritty parts.”

A slow smile stretched Torren’s lips. “I understand. I’m the same.”

“Date number three.”

Torren’s slow smile was wicked and understanding. “One. Dinner with my crew.”

“Two,” she played along. “You saw me at my worst in the club, and then a movie and cuddling in the private room. Maybe that isn’t what some people would call a date, but we’re different. And I used to be ashamed of being different, but for some reason, with you, I’m proud to be what I am. Because you’re like me and I don’t have to apologize.”

“Mmmm,” he murmured low, looking proud. “Date number three. The fight. You saw me at my worst. You didn’t run like I was afraid you would.”

“I’m not a runner. Never was.” She rolled her hips against his, and he groaned and dug his fingers into her waist. He rocked, meeting her movement. Sexy. Monster.

“I’ll make a promise to you, okay?” she whispered.