Read Oliver (Inked Menace MC 2) for Free Online

more worthy.
    The leopard stood and growled, her tail low and fluffed, ears pinned back, mouth open and teeth exposed.
    A soft knock interrupted her inner conversation and for a brief second, elation wound through her, until her sister’s voice said, “Amara?” and she walked into the room.
    Amara didn’t bother to flip over. “What.”
    “I saw Oliver headed toward the gym with a roll of duct tape, a granola bar, and a large bottle of water. Everything okay?”
    “Peachy.”
    “Do you want to talk about it?”
    Maura’s high-heeled black boots came into view.
    Amara sighed. “Not really, love.”
    Maura’s knees cracked as she crouched down and her hand slipped under Amara’s face and tilted her neck up. Pain radiated up her spine.
    “How about now?”
    “When did you become so mean?”
    Maura let go and Amara’s face dropped like a stone. She didn’t fight the momentum and allowed her nose to hit the metal frame of the bed, giving herself something else to focus on instead of the hurt look in Oliver’s eyes as he’d walked away from her.
    “When did you become a martyr?” Maura countered.
    Amara slid onto the floor, using her hands to propel her forward, and sat with her legs crossed to face her sister. “I think it was around the time one of the scientists ripped open my chest to see how fast I’d regenerate. Or it might have been the time they nearly beheaded me to find out whether I could put myself back together.”
    Maura opened her mouth, a small puff of shock escaping her lips. Her hands lifted toward her heart. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. They’ll pay. I promise.”
    “Oliver deserves better than what I have to offer. He deserves someone whole who will laugh and give him cute cubs.”
    “Do you even know if he wants that?”
    “Isn’t that what all mated couples want?”
    Maura glanced off toward the window and tried to discretely wipe a tear from her face. She shrugged. “Some do, some don’t. Not everyone can have the white picket fence and squealing laughter of babies.”
    Amara wasn’t sure who Maura was talking about. It didn’t sound so personal for her, but a swarm of emotion breezed across Amara’s skin. “You okay, sister?”
    Maura cleared her throat. “Fine. Sorry. Some things just get to me. The murder of children is one of them.”
    Amara clenched her hands into tight fists, her claws poking through her skin. “Who. Who did this to you?”
    Sympathy masked her sister’s face, and Maura said softly, “Not me, honey. Cecelia. But those are her secrets and demons to share, not mine.”
    The sharp tips of her claws receded back into their sockets and Amara nodded, blowing out a slow breath to calm her racing mind. It was filled with gruesome images and blood. Blood everywhere. On everything. Her blood, other shifter’s blood. Then the blood of her enemies as she’d gone bat-shit crazy and slaughtered all those in her path when she’d been able to break free of their shackles. Those believing themselves her superior, and she’d let them believe that, hadn’t she? So she could bide her time and kill them piece by bloody piece.
    “Oliver’s a good man, sweetie. He’d never hurt you.”
    Sadness coated Amara’s tongue with the pungent taste of regret. “I know that, Maura. I’m more afraid of what I’d do to him.”
    Maura eased off the end of the mattress and stood, walking toward Amara’s seated position on the shaggy carpet. She lowered herself and wrapped her arms around Amara’s body. She squeezed, and pressed her face into Amara’s neck. “You’re a strong, beautiful, amazing woman, noodle. Don’t forget who you truly are.” She pressed a kiss to her cheek and then shifted away to stand with the grace of her line. A regal lioness not to be trifled with.
    “I love you, Amaraynth. Get some sleep.”
    “I love you too, Maura. Thank you.”
    As her sister quietly shut the door to her room, Amara crawled back onto the bed and slid under the covers,