Lair of the Lion

with its large teeth and razor-sharp claws. She had no real idea of what her plan was, only that something deep within her heart and soul drove her forward.
    Isabella inserted her body between the lion and its prey. The lion's gaze immediately fixed on her. She met the stare with one of her own. The moment their eyes locked, realization hit her like a fist. Two entities stared back at her from the gaze of the lion. One was untamed and confused, the other hostile and enraged. She narrowed her focus, determined to hold the lion motionless and ignore the nameless terror burning in its eyes.
    "Sarina, go for Don DeMarco." She kept her voice soft and soothing. It wobbled in spite of her determination to keep calm. "If you value the lives of those of us here, move very slowly until you make your way across the room. I'll hold the lion's attention, and you get to the other entrance. Once you are out, hurry."
    Sarina's hand reached out as though she could drag Isabella back to safety. Betto took the trembling fingers and squeezed them in reassurance. None of the other servants moved, no one uttered a sound, no one seemed to breathe.
    Isabella didn't turn her head to see whether Sarina had done as she asked—she had to believe the housekeeper would find the courage to do as she had bid. She didn't dare break eye contact with the lion. The great beast was shuddering with the need to leap upon her, to rend and tear, to sink its teeth deeply in her flesh and hear the satisfying crunch of bones. It was only Isabella's focused stare that prevented the animal from attacking.
    The lion's need to kill was so great, Isabella could feel it deep inside her own heart. The conflict in the animal was so considerable that she felt sorrow for it, an aching pang in contrast to the terror welling up inside her. She refused to blink, refused to turn away, as much for the sake of the beast as for her own life. It was confused and fighting itself as the surge of dark power thrust at its instincts continually, urging it to kill. Kill Isabella. Kill everyone.
    The lion shuddered again, a terrible trembling, and crawled forward toward Isabella, belly to the ground, eyes focused on her, fixed and staring. Roped muscles rippled along its massive body. Saliva dripped from the huge fangs as it snarled at her, a warning, almost a pleading, a dark challenge. The beast's breath was hot on her body, but she didn't move a muscle.
    Behind her, the servants stirred in panic, close to running, but Betto stopped them with an imperious hand raised and a quick shaking of his head. Any sudden movement or noise might trigger the lion to attack.
    Isabella could feel tiny beads of sweat running down the valley between her breasts. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She tasted fear in her mouth. Her knees threatened to buckle, but she stood her ground, staring into the round, gleaming eyes, determined not to run. Her mouth was so dry she wasn't certain she could speak if she had to. The animal was enormous, so close to her she could see the variations in his fur, silver, black, and brown woven so tightly it appeared to be a silky black. She could see eyelashes, whiskers, two scars slashed deep into the giant muzzle.
    "I'm with you, Isabella. Have no fear." The voice was soft, almost sensual. Nicolai stepped slowly, carefully to Isabella's side. His hand enveloped hers, tightened around her fingers, connecting them physically. Isabella didn't dare take her gaze from the lion, but even so, she knew Nicolai was watching the beast intently, his amber eyes blazing with fury, concentrating on holding the creature in place. She could almost feel it as he began slowly, forcibly, to impose his will on the animal.
    Isabella fought beside him, understanding the battle as no other in the room could. She understood then the immense concentration and focus it took for Nicolai to communicate with and control the untamable. The lions weren't docile or domesticated, they weren't pets, they were wild animals meant to be hunting prey and living far from human society. To keep them from following their natural instincts, Nicolai used a tremendous amount of energy at all times. He was in some way a part of them, bound to them, and the lions considered him the head of their pride.
    The lion wanted to obey. The creature seemed to be fighting some inner battle. Isabella continued to stare into its eyes, her compassionate nature reaching out to the huge cat. She felt her own strength pouring