Shifting Desires

Shifting Desires

Published by Phaze Books

This is an explicit and erotic novel intended for the enjoyment of adult readers. Please keep out of the hands of children.

www.Phaze.com

Shifting Desires a collection of erotic romance by

SKYLAR SINCLAIR SAPPHIRE PHELAN JUDE MASON

Shifting Desires copyright 2006-8 by Skylar Sinclair, Jude Mason, and Sapphire Phelan All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

A Phaze Production Phaze Books 6470A Glenway Avenue, #109 Cincinnati, OH 45211-5222 Phaze is an imprint of Mundania Press, LLC. To order additional copies of this book, contact: [email protected] www.Phaze.com Cover art © 2008 Skylar Sinclair Edited by Kathryn Lively and Stephanie Balistreri eBook ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-088-1 First eBook Edition – September, 2008 Printed in the United States of America 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

Table of Contents Purr For Me............................................................... 7 Beast Magic.............................................................. 32 Cat's Claw ............................................................. 102 About the Authors ................................................. 200

Purr For Me Skylar Sinclair

Also by Skylar Sinclair The Stud Farm "Swing It, Baby" from Coming Together Under Fire

Chapter One Panteara arched her shoulders back and purred as she ran her hands down along the sleek, graceful lines of her feline enhanced body, reveling in the soft fur covering and the lean muscles defined beneath it. She loved being in this form. This was just one type of beast-shifting—that of half human and half panther. The females of their kind could only achieve this particular shift change on their day of birth—in which case for Panteara was Halloween—or after they mated. For twenty-four hours she could revel in this animalistic state, sinuous and sultry. Slaking the sensuous feline creature that would dominate her. Turning thirty-two and being a beast-shifter made her smile. Life got better and better with each passing year for her. She was going to a Halloween party in full costume, so what if she really wasn't wearing one? A deep-throated, purring laugh slipped through her full, lush lips. Fooling everyone at the party was her own birthday present to herself. When she was little, she would trick or treat in this form, and people told her how cute she was. They were especially delighted when little Panteara would growl and hiss at them. It was all such a hoot for her. To others that saw her, she would look like she wore a dark pelted, skintight bodysuit that hugged and accented her every curve, line and shape, complete with panther ears, long fingernails, and a sexy swinging tail. Panteara was the ultimate cat woman—meow!

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She thrived on all the attention she got wherever she went, and tonight would be no exception. Derek, her old friend from high school, threw the best parties and the ones at Halloween always drew a big crowd. She planned to strut her stuff and find a good, hard male body to roll around in the sheets with later tonight. She loved men, but only on her own terms. Before heading out the door and to the party, Panteara gave her animalistic appearance one quick glance in the hallway mirror. Grinning wickedly, long canines gleamed pearly white, giving her a sinful and feral look against a deep red backdrop of her glossy lipstick. Soft, feathered whiskers fanned out on either side of her cat-like nose and facial features. Straight dark brown hair streaked with thin strands of golden highlights swung freely about her shoulders. Her favorite feature was the petite panther ears perched upon the topsides of her head. Twitching them first backward and forward, she'd needed to remember not to do that little number in front of anyone tonight. Vivacious golden-green slanted eyes, with a thick fringing of long eyelashes batted back at her with flirty devilish amusement. Panteara dripped sexuality from her perky fur-tipped nipples to the red stiletto heels adorning her feet, which matched the color of her long, curved fingernails and lush lips. She hissed, flicking her wrist while clawing at the air in an exaggerated catty gesture, laughing at her feline façade. Panteara might look feminine and harmless, but she could rip out a man's throat without breaking a sweat. Tonight was definitely going to be a one for the record books. She could feel her sex tightening up in anticipation of the male attention she would no doubt encounter. "Show time," Panteara purred deliciously as she reached behind herself, keys in hand and closed the door

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to her apartment, locking it and headed out for a spooktacular night of hopeful carnal proclivities. **** Roarke Rawling had been dragged to this ridiculous Halloween party by his sister, Tabby, who was nowhere to be found. At thirty-four years of age, he felt silly getting all dressed up for a costume party. He hated the idea of going to this party to start with, but he would do anything for his little sister, including wearing this stupid lion tamer's costume—which left nothing to the imagination. He hated leg coverings that were so tight his boys protested, like they were doing right this minute. The leather vest was too small, he had to leave it untied, showing off his chest and rock hard abs. Just what he needed, more attention being diverted down toward the obvious bulge between his legs. The only thing he did love about the costume was the black knee-high leather shit-kickers. Left to his own devices, he had finally sought a shadowy and isolated area of the party to escape all the attention he had been getting from the over zealous and pawing women since he'd arrived. He had at least seven phone numbers and could have been laid four times over, but none of the women so far had sparked one ounce of desire in him. They only succeeded in irritating him. It was all about the chase for him and these women held little appeal to his beastly nature. Lounging against a wall, Roarke had one knee drawn up and bent back in casual grace, the flat of his booted foot braced upon the wall behind him. With his great height and muscled berth, he looked more like he was holding up the wall than the other way around. His face was masked in a bored expression, which only added to his already overly sexual attractiveness. The hungry stares of women were all around him. He just chose to ignore them. To Roarke, women were a dime a dozen. They were good for one thing and one thing only—flat on their backs,

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legs spread wide for his pleasure and to be taken any which way he wanted them. Yes, he knew he was a handsome bastard that could have any woman he desired, and he chuckled at his own self-righteous arrogance. Roarke had just about had all of this Halloween party he could stand for one night. As he pushed himself away from the wall, the hairs on his body stood at attention and his senses roared to life. Raising his head slightly he took a deep breath. "Well, I'll be damned," he spoke under his breath. Another of his kind, a female, had just entered the room and he quickly scanned the party, before his feral glazed lit upon the most gorgeous, primal creature he had even seen. She moved like liquid silver through the crowded room of costumed revelers, flowing and sensuous, teasing and pleasing to the eye. Both men and women stared at her with carnality clearly mirrored in their gazes. Well, this night will not be a total loss after all, Roarke mused to himself. Here kitty, kitty, come to daddy. **** The first thing Panteara noticed was the crush of people all dressed up and well on their way to being shit faced. Wow, she marveled, as she looked around at all the Halloween decorating Derek had done. The windows had black plastic covering them, giving a dark and sinister atmosphere to the party. Dangling cobwebs and spiders, quivered overhead. Skeletons, goblins and ghosts wafted in and out of view, as the party goers moved around the room. Derek even had an old wooden coffin brought in, complete with a realistic vampire ready to rise for his nightly thirst for blood. Michael Jackson's Thriller album was blaring over the speakers positioned throughout the room. Oh…yeah, this is going to be a wild night of people getting freaky, Panteara smiled to herself.

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She always arrived to any social event a couple of hours late, especially when she was hunting for a new play toy. She'd never wanted anyone to define her as desperate. Panteara by no means lacked male company. She was like a kid in a candy store, and she had to try all the flavors life had to offer. To her, men were fascinating creatures and they fed her animalistic demand for sex. It has been a while since she'd slept with a good, hard man and, by the looks of the selection here tonight, her dry spell might just have to be extended. Oh, well. She loved Derek's company, too bad her feelings for him were only one of mutual friendship. He was like a brother to her and they had stayed close to each other ever since meeting in high school long ago. She couldn't have asked for a better friend than Derek. First things first, a drink was in order. Derek really went all out this Halloween, and had a bar set up along one side of his large living room. Panteara was ordering a martini—shaken, not stirred—when the smell of patchouli, but more on the manly side drifted around her. Her acute sense of smell let her know she was not alone. A deep, hedonistic voice spoke close to her left ear, ruffling the fine hairs near the top of her temple as he did, "I bet I can make you purr." Panteara slowly turned toward the delicious voice, stepping back, only to have to stop her mouth from gaping wide open. At first, all she could see was this massive wall of muscle. She had to look up and step back once more to get the full picture of the man who stood before her. For once in her life, she was totally speechless. All she could do was look at this tall drink of water up and down, taking in every scrumptious inch of him. Her eyes kept stalling at the large package between his legs, held in place by the shiny black tights he wore so well. Finally, she moved past that large treat onto his ripped and muscled abdomen, where again, a fine trail of

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hair pulled her right back to his sizeable endowment. She swore it grew larger each time she eyed it. Before her stood a tall Greek deity, dressed in a very revealing lion tamer's outfit, complete with a wicked looking whip wrapped around his tight, lean waist. A black leather vest that looked too small for his large frame, partly covered the lightly furred, pale, blonde curly hairs on his chest. He had a strong handsome face, distinctly refined nose and a wide mouth. His lower lip was fuller than his upper, giving him a slightly pouty appeal, which begged her to run her tongue along the seam of those lips. On his thick wrists he wore black leather studded wristbands. She'd bet that his large hands would feel like raw silk moving over her exposed and silken fur. What almost stopped her heart were his eyes. They resembled orbs of gold stone, a rich burnished brown gemstone with dispersions of gold flecks. She could've drowned in the depth of his sensual gaze. He had a wild mane of tawny hair that was thickly layered around his face. On any other man it would have looked ridiculous, but on him it was sexier than hell. Panteara had almost fallen under his sexual spell until she noticed he'd hiked up one blonde eyebrow and his lips parted in a grin of pure male arrogance, exposing strong white teeth, a look that said, I am gorgeous and I know it. Panteara gave herself a mental shake, and then narrowed her eyes at him. He wanted to play, then let the games begin. "What's your name…stud?" she purred as she slinked across the last couple of feet that separated them, then ran the pads of her fingertips along the bulging biceps and triceps of one of his arms, her other hand was placed seductively on a cocked hip. His flesh quivered in the wake of her touch. As it did, shocks of primal recognition sparked up Panteara's fingertips.

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"That would be 'Mate' to you, pussy…cat." Holy mother of… He was one of her kind, but much worse…a beastshifting lion, known far and wide to be fierce and possessive creatures, with a hot temper and sexually insatiable. Damn. She should have known when she had smelled that heady scent. But then again, she had never been around lion-shifters before this. Panteara needed to keep a cool head. She was not going to let anybody push her around, even if she found him irresistible and wanted to do him every which way from Tuesday. Needing to think fast, she used her best weapon—her body. Rubbing up against him, like a cat rubbing against the legs of their owner, she purred and licked at his neck. She felt him tense up and then melt into her body. "I need to visit the little girl's room. Promise to wait right here for me?" Roarke growled softly, "Hurry back." As Panteara walked away with hips swaying seductively, her treacherous body lifted up her tail in a signal of feline arousal. In other words, she had gone into heat. Her body had accepted what her mind hadn't—that she'd found a mate. Great, what next?

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Chapter Two Roarke watched her sleek half-panther and human physique strut away from him. He groaned at the sight of her tail rising and the muscles of her ass tighten and flex with each jaunty step she took. The sight sent hard jolts of desire directly to his already stiff cock. While she was in the restroom, he asked around the party and had found out her name, Panteara Pereira. He also found out she had two other siblings, Troy and Rio, who also happened to be very protective of their little sister. What was taking her so long? What exactly do women do when they go to the restroom? Roarke got a bad feeling. It had been a good fifteen minutes since she had left him standing here waiting for her. He had watched her walk down one hallway, so she must still be in there. His need to protect his mate was overwhelming and finding her was instinctive for his kind. When he got to the bathroom door that had a sign hung on it, Boo Poo. He chuckled in spite of himself. He noticed the door was ajar and not bothering to knock, Roarke stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the window was opened and her feline scent lingered only slightly in the air. Why, that little minx thinks she can run from me. Every instinct in his body roared to life. Her running from him was firing up his beast. Now Panteara was going to get it. And, he was just the man to have her screaming

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his name, over and over again, until she knew who she belonged to—him. Once he got his scent on her and seed in her, no man or beast-shifter, would dare touch her ever again. She would be marked as his for all times. He was glad his sister had found a friend to hang with and get a ride home later. Roarke could only handle one precocious puss at a time, and the current one was in deep shit right this minute. It was time to tame his naughty pussycat. Running from him was futile and he was going to teach her that. A feral, toothy smile spread across his face, as he licked his lips in anticipation of the lessons ahead. He'd only had sex with human women and now he could let out his beast. Roarke would let the full force of his animal strength be unleashed on his wayward mate. The feeling of raw power roared through his veins. He wanted to growl from his thoughts of what he would to Panteara when he got his hands on her. **** The moment she closed the bathroom door behind her, Panteara knew she needed to get the hell away from that beast-shifter. If he got his hands on her, she'd be unable to resist his sexual magnetism. She was afraid of the sexual predator in him. She'd never tangled with a lion-shifter and wasn't sure she could handle his brand of incensed passion. Panteara managed to slip her body through the bathroom window without taking off half her hide in the process. That had been one small widow. Once outside, Panteara headed straight for her car only to find it blocked in on all sides by others attending the Halloween party. Great, just great, she fumed. Now what was she to do? Think… Hell, what was there to think about, she'd walk home or go back inside, not a hard decision really—walk.

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By the time she'd walked a couple of blocks, her stiletto heels weren't quite so sexy anymore, but she hadn't planned on walking for miles in them either. Deciding on taking a shortcut through a neighborhood park, it cut her walking time in half. She could also walk barefoot on the grassy areas. About halfway into the park and close to a wooded area, Panteara heard a low animalistic growl close by. Without stopping to think, she broke out into a dead run. Knowing better than to run from a beast-shifter did not stop her survival instinct from kicking in but also, a girl couldn't look too easy, either. She'd gotten no more than a hundred yards before a large fierce lion blocked her path of escape. Even in his frightening, angered form of a lion, he moved with quiet grace. Moonlight from overhead, outlined and enhanced the power and muscle structure lying beneath his glossy golden coat of fur. The lush, full blonde mane that surrounded his neck gave him a regal and proud bearing. His eyes still held some of his human soul within them, but the rest was primal and slowly stalking close toward her. The lion licked its whiskered muzzle. It looked like she was going to be served up hot and fresh tonight. A zing of sexual excitement caused her sex to twitch and throb. With her hands out in front of her body in a motion of surrender, Panteara spoke in a soothing tone. "Nice boy. Good kitty. No need to get testy now." She didn't keep direct eye contact with him, she was afraid of getting burned by the fiery anger that bled from his gold orbs. Right before her very eyes, he shifted from all fours, gradually unfurling into his tall height and back to two, long muscled legs. Her eyes opened wider at his awesomeness as he transformed back into his human counterpart. She was enthralled as the powerful lion morphed into an even more impressive large golden

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man—and so well hung—it could make a grown woman moan and whimper from its thick, lengthy beauty encased in black tights. Locking eyes with his, despite him being in his human form, his eyes held a powerful message and the intensity they gave off made her body shiver from the knowledge of what he was going to do to her now. She would pay for running from him. Standing before her, he was once again a magnificent lion tamer. Then with calculated movements, he started stripping. He started with his leather vest, which really did not hide much to begin with, letting it glide down over his broad shoulders and muscled arms until it hit the ground behind him. Never taking his eyes off of her, he unsnapped each wristband, flinging them away as he did. Next, went the boots, toeing them off with graceful ease. The socks followed in the path with the boots up on the damp grass. With each article of clothing that left his body, Panteara panted a little harder, and her legs started to become rubbery. She fought to keep her composure and not melt at his feet, begging for him to take her—take her hard and fast. The last vestige of his clothing was pealed down his strong-corded legs. He wore only a nasty knowing grin, a huge erection and the lion tamer's whip unfurled next to his nude body. Panteara jumped when he cracked the whip, getting her full and undivided attention. Like he didn't have it before? He walked with a prowl-like tread toward her. "Don't even think of moving, not even to blink," he said, pronouncing each word in a warning growl. Her skin crawled with fear and lust, as each step brought him closer to her. She could smell her own arousal as it trickled down her inner thighs.

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His head lifted and tilted back as he sniffed the air. Fresh lust was apparent in his piercing golden gaze. An arrogant smile broke apart his lips and his eyes hooded in knowing assurance that she was his. Within a hair's breadth of touching, he reached up and fisted his hand into the back of her hair, forcing her head backward. His other hand still had the wicked looking whip dangling behind him. The thought of that whip, and what he might do to her, caused a nervous twitch down deep inside her pussy. "My name is Roarke, but you will call me Master. I want to hear you say it. Now!" He watched her moisten her lips with her pink tongue as her eyes dilated with desire as he instructed her. A tongue he would have licking and worshiping his cock soon. When Panteara hesitated for just a second, he whirled the whip around and above their heads, then pulled it down in a commanding flick of his wrist. Only to have it land close to her feet with a wicked snapping recoil vibrating the air. She grasped loudly, "Yes, Master." His hot words flowed over her. His explicit and commanding terms caused her sex to twitch and contract with each voiced demand. Her throat constricted and she fought to swallow as she willed her limbs to stop trembling. Burying his nose and lips close to her neck he'd exposed with a firm tug of the hair, he still held firmly wrapped within his large fist. He growled another command. "Grasp your hands behind your back and spread your legs wide apart. And stay that way." To help her along, he wedged a knee between her legs and pushed.

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Running his rough textured tongue near her ear, he whispered, "Good pussycat. Now don't move." Using the handle of the whip, he ran it down between her legs, caressing the inside of each thigh before finally moving it up into the folds of her sodden sex, teasing and torturing her highly sensitive clit. He knew he was driving her to her breaking point—it was, after all, his plan. Roarke needed to establish dominance over her body and mind. Then, and only then, would he show his true emotions to his mate. Panteara whimpered and pressed her body against his as he licked her neck after giving it little nips and nibbles, while working the handle of the whip gently with smooth strokes along the hood of her swollen clitoris. He pulled the handle back and brought it up under his nose, taking a deep whiff of her juices that dripped down the leather handle. His tongue eased out from between his parted lips, to lick the handle like it was a juicy lollipop. Moaning his pleasure, he devoured every dewy drop. "You taste like a ripe peach. I bet if I split you open you'd even look just like one." Her eyes were closed tight and her breathing was ragged and uneven, as she fought not to collapse. "Poor little kitty," he purred against her lips. He played his tongue along the seam of her full lips, and then he rubbed his lips along her jaw-line, growling as he did. Finally, he kissed her with all the pent up tension and passion he'd been holding back. Panteara moaned as he played with her mouth. He would be rough one minute, soothing the next. Suddenly he dropped the whip, and swinging her into his hefty arms, walked toward a park bench not far from where they had been standing. He quickly sat down with her still in his arms and positioned her over his distended cock. "Put your legs on either side of my hips. I want you to ride me. Take your

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pleasure with me deep inside of you. I want you filled with my seed." Panteara was rocked to her core, shaking with the overwhelming need to breed. "I—I need help." She had even had trouble getting words through her passionswelled lips. Roarke took deep gulps of air, trying to get his beast under control. She was getting close to changing back to her human form as the midnight hour approached. Her twenty-four hour shift of being a playful puss was coming to an end. Weakness always followed the change. He stroked her furred back, gentling her with soft words, holding her close to his heart. The feel of her pelt was sensuous and familiar to his fingers. When she had settled, he used his fingertip to raise her chin so that she was looking into his eyes, feeling the needs emanating from his feral stare. "I have to fuck you. I need to feel you around my cock, drowning in the passions that spark and flow between us." He watched for a sign of acknowledgement and acceptance from Panteara. She brought out the protector in him and animalistic tendencies of possessiveness he never knew existed within his beast. The fierce burning need to take control and love. "I am good. In fact, I feel an awakening of my feline senses—alive for the first time in my life. I didn't realize the connection between mates would be so strong, flowing like a live charge." "That's my pussycat." He gave her a sexy wink and then kissed her soundly on the lips to satisfy his need to touch and taste of her. Lifting her effortlessly, Roarke placed her over his pronounced cock, teasing the wet entrance of her muscled portal. Mixing their lubrications to enter her carefully, yet it would still be a very stretched fit.

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Panteara put her hands on top his wide shoulders to balance herself atop his large fullness. As he worked his thick stiffness into her, he felt like molten steel forging up inside of her tight wetness. They bonded and blended together as one solid mass of writhing and pulsing flesh. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle paired in perfection. God, he felt good when his cock hit the fleshy bulb of her uterus. The sound of their joining was wet and stimulating to the ear. Driving up the flames of demands for each other— within each other—marking the other emotionally and physically and sending sharp prickles firing up all the way to the tips of her nipples. She let her head fall back and her lips parted emitting a moaning purr. Slowly, Roarke rocked his hips up and back, then side to side. The whole time using his body as a carnal weapon against her body, letting the hairs of his groin tickle and worry her clit. Raising and lowering her pussy slowly and then thrusting powerfully into her. Alternating his rhythm, he kept finding and hitting the spot that was driving her crazy. Beads of sweat broke out along his hairline, trickling down his forehead. As the pleasure in their bodies built, the air around them was filled with the moans and groans of erotic fervor. The smell of sex filled their senses and fueled the need to fuck harder, faster. Roarke reached between their pulsating and pumping bodies to tweak her clit. Growling close to her face, "Tell me, who am I. Scream for your mate. Scream my name. Say it. Now!" And with those sexual arousing commands, he parted the flesh that guarded the hood of her clit, pressing up and back, with the tip his finger. His masterful touch and words rocketed her into orgasmic release. A resounding scream of, "Roarke…Roarke…Roarke", slipped through her lips in a ragged yell. Her words hit him with a force that drew up his balls. He couldn't hold back the gush of seed that filled

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her, only to wash back down onto his lap between their joined bodies. Panteara had changed back into human form by the time Roarke managed to find out where she lived and drove them there. Once at her apartment, he carried her straight to bed, carefully and lovingly putting her to bed and covering her up. He checked all the doors and window, making sure all was locked and secure. His territorial and protective nature was fully engaged and appeased before he finally found his rest. Pulling her sleeping form tightly against his body, curling around her, Roarke formed a cocoon of protectiveness with his large body. Finding his peace, he let himself drift to sleep.

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Chapter Three Roarke slowly opened his eyes. Something was not right and his feline senses were on alert. He ran a possessive hand down Panteara's soft, curved flank, loving her feminine yet animalistic spirit, one that connected her completely to him. Watching her as she slept gave him comfort and quieted the beast that had been raging in him for as long as he could remember. His parents had told Roarke that once he found his mate, his animalistic nature would be quieted— controllable, but he just never truly believed them. He'd never thought he would have felt so completely content with one woman. Thank God he had been wrong. Losing himself inside of her warm and welcoming pussy had been heaven to him. He suddenly stilled, like the calm after a fierce storm and his nostrils flared, as he smelled the sent of another male invading his territory. His upper lip curled and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He could feel the change already starting as his dominant nature to protect what was his started to overtake him. No one, especially another male was getting near his mate. As the bedroom door quietly opened, he sprang up from the bed in full lion form ready to defend his property—his woman. Before he could attack, Panteara jumped between both beast-shifted males, holding them by the scruffs of their necks. Her arms were stretched as far apart as she could to keep them a part. It was like being wedged between two overgrown spitting kittens, both growling and snarling at

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the other. Panteara shook her head and rolled her eyes at them. Men acted so stupid sometimes. She would deal with her big brother later. Right now Panteara needed to soothe the hunter and protector instincts that were emanating off of Roarke in waves, like the grains of sand in a windstorm, hot and stingy when they blew by her. Turning toward Roarke, Panteara quietly reassured him that everything was okay and to wait there while she spoke to her brother, as she dragged Troy out of the bedroom. Before shutting the door on his nosey ass, she told him she would call him later and explain everything to him. Reminding him once more what a phone was invented for—to call first! With her back to the closed door, Panteara faced Roarke. What she saw made her eyes widen and her insides shudder. He had turned back into his human form, yet she could see him struggling to retain it. His face was a mask of pure fury and his stance ridged with controlled rage. Speaking with soft reassurance, she walked carefully and slowly toward him. One hand held up in front of her body. "It was just my brother checking on me. Everything is okay. No need to be angry. Take it easy." Within inches of Roarke, she reached up to touch his face. Her hand shook as she did. The only part of him that moved was his chillingly cold eyes as they followed her movements. Eyes now fading from fury to unadulterated savage heat. Panteara feared at any moment he would snap at her. Without preamble he growled out, "Get your ass on that bed and lay flat on your back. Put your hands over your head and spread those long legs of yours wide open for me." Panteara didn't hesitate this time. She quickly scrambled up onto the twisted bedding. Bedding that was

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still warm from their bodies. He didn't turn around and face her until she was positioned exactly as he had demanded of her. His naval high cock bounced and weaved as he made his way over to her. On top of the bed, he stalked toward her on all fours, scenting the air as he did. His blond mane of hair was wildly tousled about his head and shoulders, giving him an even fiercer predatory appearance. Full lips were pulled over his teeth, bared and clinched in growling savagery. His need for dominance and, by taking her, would be the only means to appease his animalistic emotions warring inside him. She had to let him find relief and release within her body. She was the ground for his beast. Calming the animal—the lion that he was. He stared at her full unshaven pubic area. The beast and man in him liked his women natural, with a thick thatch of hair adorning their precious treasure. The curly hairs seemed to hold and nurture the earthy fragrance of a women's perfume. He licked along his upper lip, as he took in her lush, woolen beauty. Running his nose into fragrant curls, he couldn't help but voice his praise. "Beautiful and mine." His warm breath ruffled the spongy dark curls, parting them here and there. Blowing across them a few more times made Panteara squirm and moan from the subtle windy caresses. "I lust to have you coating my tongue and face, imbedding your scent before you cover my cock with your creaminess." His tongue, cat-like and rough, slipped into the folds of her pussy. Lightly scraping and dragging his wet, warm tongue, using it to separating her like a split piece of fruit. A fruit that was juicy and ripe, ready to be eaten—savored. This was a woman who's very being called to his beast. He'd always been sexually aggressive. With her, he

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was more so. The need for dominance and control fed his animalistic side. Now he would feed off her. Panteara loved being eaten out, but this man had the tongue of a god. Every nerve in her body fired and sizzled. The erotic image of his head between her legs made her excited beyond words. Giving over his pleasure for her heightened and aroused her, which triggered an intense and blinding orgasm. She couldn't stop the scream that ripped from her lungs and out into the air. "Roarke!" This pleased him immensely. "I love the taste, the texture and the smell of you. I will dine on you daily, pussycat." He licked and lathed her pussy, not wanting to miss one drop of her fluid juice. Not giving Panteara a moment to catch her breath or come down from her screaming orgasm, Roarke flipped her over. "Get on your hands and knees. Stick that fine ass of yours up in the air. I am going to fuck you like an animal." Positioning himself behind her, kneeling amid her splayed knees, he rubbed his hard cock at the opening of her sex. He gripped her lush hips, giving her ass a firm resounding slap. "Oww," Panteara squealed with a start, more from the sound than from pain. It actually stimulated her, causing her to lurch forward, rubbing her sensitive nipples on the sheets. He was creating a sexual craving within her. "You like that don't you, pussycat? Then how about this." Thrusting balls deep and holding her hips tightly against his groin. Not giving her any mercy or time to adjust to his generous cock. It felt like he was going to split her in two. "Relax your muscles, let your body go. You can take all of me without it being uncomfortable." He slowly withdrew his large, hard cock, only to slam it back into her hot sheath—a portal that deeply suckled up and down

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every inch of his rod. Growling as he worked to tame and master her body. Her pussy fit him like a second skin, tight and fiercely comforting. When he got through with her, she'd never forget whom she belonged to. He was going to fuck her so hard; she would be able to taste him in her mouth. Tonight, he was going to mark her for all times. Roarke was feeling the stress of being on his knees and fighting to work himself in and out of Panteara's tight core. He felt the beginnings of her cunt starting to shudder, and then freeze up as an orgasm was coming upon her. Leaning forward he bit down on the area between her neck and shoulder, his teeth sank deeply into her flesh, right where the two soft curves met. He was marking his mate so others of his kind would know she was his and to keep the hell away from his possession. Panteara's body seized, then broke out in rocking spasms of pained ecstasy. The combination of his animalistic lovemaking and bite were more than her treacherous body could withstand. Her screams permeated the air. Heavy primal pants were forced through her lungs, like an animal that was overheated. When she started to collapse down onto her elbows, he held her hips tightly in place to reach his own pinnacle. His roar drowned out the stillness of the room. Panteara was clawing and gripping the sheet, trying to hold back his powerful thrusts and stay on the top of the bed. He released his cum deep within her thirsting channel. **** Panteara felt Roarke shaking her awake. "W—wh— what do you want, Roarke?" she muttered still half asleep. "Who the hell is Roarke?" her brother Troy asked. She shook her head a couple of times and wiped her hand across her eyes to clear her sleepy vision. "What are you doing back here again? I thought I told you I would call you."

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"Panteara, are you okay? I have not been here today. We agreed that we would go together to Derek's Halloween party tonight, remember?" He looked slightly concerned with her disoriented state. Lifting up upon her elbow and trying to pull herself into a sitting position, which she finally managed, she looked around her bedroom, pulling stray hairs away from her face. Could her and Roarke been all a dream? Hell…who dreamt of being a cat woman that changed to half panther and half human on her birthday? W-ild! Man, what an exotic and erotic dream. She'd remember to never eat Mexican food before taking a nap. Troy was all rigged out as a sexy pirate, complete with eye patch and a colorful fake parrot perched on his shoulder. She wondered how in the hell he got it to stay there? "Give me an hour to get ready. Okay? I swear, I will hurry," she said to her brother as she pushed her rumpled ass up off the bed and dashed straight for her bathroom where she already had her cat woman costume hanging on the back of the bathroom door ready to wear. Troy just shook his head and chuckled. "Okay." He walked back into the living room to watch TV while he waited for his nutty sister. **** As soon as they entered Derek's party, Panteara and Troy split company. He headed straight for a group of costumed, giggling women and she to the bar. God, she needed a drink. She slowly looked around the party that was so weird she thought to herself, gulping down half the martini the bartender had just handed her. The decorations and the people from her dream were just about the same. Looking around there was one thing different—no lion tamer—no Roarke. Too bad it had all been a fantastical dream. Damn,

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for a dream lover, he was great in bed. A girl could really get used to that big cock and domineering tongue. An unusual scent waft in the air around her, which brought a memorable twinge to her feminine senses, and goose-pimples to rise on her arms. It smelled familiar. Then a very warm-bodied presence crowded her back. She felt a pair of firm warm lips whisper against her neck and a deep sexy voice from behind her growled, "I bet I can make you purr." A pouty, knowing smirk coveted Panteara's feline made up features. She did not even bother to turn around completely. She just turned her head toward the source, batting her long eyelashes. "Meo-wwww."

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Beast Magic Sapphire Phelan

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Also by Sapphire Phelan Crimson Promise Phaze in Verse "Shadow Lover" from Coming Together Under Fire

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"A dream that a lion had dreamed" - Against Unworthy Praise by William Butler Yeats

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Chapter One The lion crept through the tall grass. He never let his gaze waver from what he saw in front of him, keeping focused on the trap. He bared what he thought was a parody of a human smile, showing his glistening fangs as the odor of five hunters wafted to him. They hid behind some heavy brush only fifteen paw lengths away. The stench was repugnant to his nose combined with the hot, humid air. He knew what they were thinking. That they were being smarter than the dumb beast, when in reality he wanted to be caught. It was his destiny to spring the trap. Then he could be taken across the Great Water to meet his fate in a human female, the one from the dreaming that he would take as his mate. The magic within him wanted to be called forth and show this puny prey what he could really do, to surprise and frighten them. But he forced it down back into himself. Now was not the time to let it free. They were not his real enemies, just pathetic humans who didn't know any better, as his father would say. He could have used his beast magic to whisk himself away to where he wanted to go. But he felt this plan was better. Much better. Ramses, the werelion, stepped forward. Dried grass and large palm leaves crunched noisily under his massive paws. He discovered the edge of the pit the humans had dug, covered with brush to hide it. His superior hearing picked up the echo of a human catching their breath, as he toed some ground by the trap. Stepping onto the leaves, he

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crashed through and, along with the earthly covering, fell into the hole. He landed on all four paws. With a low roar rumbling in his chest, he paced the length of the hole. Pausing, he glared up into the excited eyes of the hunters as they surrounded the hole and stared down at him. Listening to them chatter among themselves about how easy it had been to capture the lion, he let them believe it for a brief moment. Then the low rumble in his chest morphed into laughter. The lion watched as uneasiness replace the excitement in their dark eyes, as if they heard and understood his inner thoughts. Soon he would find his mate and claim her. The Dreaming never lied. **** Shana Tory began dreaming again. It was the same scene, since she was five: she stood alone at the zoo. Her mother had just let go of her hand and vanished into the crowd of people. Suddenly, the crowd dispersed, and she found herself standing in front of the lion exhibit, staring into the golden brown eyes of a large male with a heavy black mane. The big cat lay still like the Sphinx, his gaze intent on her. Though frightened, Shana drew closer as if she couldn't help herself. Her nipples hardened under her blouse and she felt heat pooling between her thighs. Unexpectedly, the lion rose to his feet and padded nearer to the boundary that separated them. He halted, and then roared. She screamed and ran away. Shana awoke, frantic, her limbs tangled in both the sheet and blanket. Her hands fisted the material as sweat dripped down her face, staining it. Damn, this was the fifth time this week she had that nightmare from her childhood. This time, though, the lion had reached the boundary that kept him from her. In the

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next one, she feared he might leap over it and get to her. She hated nights like this, for they gave her an unreasoning fear of lions, especially the male ones. Shana stumbled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She saw her pale reflection in the mirror above the sink. It bothered her. Dark half-circles under her eyes made her appear bruised and tired. She turned on the faucets and hot and cold water gushed into her hands. Splashing her face, she hoped that its refreshing feeling would take away some of the dream leftovers. Quickly finishing up, she applied moisturizer and powder to her face to cover up the lingering effects. It was getting harder to look good for work these days. Maybe she needed to see a therapist or something so she could start getting some real sleep. Once dressed, Shana breakfasted on oatmeal and drank a cup of coffee. She put the bowl and cup in the sink, then rushed off to work. Parking her car in front of the boutique where she worked, she climbed out and paused to stare at the vast parking lot of the zoo across the road. Empty right now, in a couple hours the parking lot would be jam-packed with all sorts of vehicles. Families would be entering through the zoo's entrance to visit the animals and birds that populated the attraction. The same zoo that figured in her dreams. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That's all it was, she reminded herself, a dream, and nothing more. Okay, maybe she had some issues with lions. But she would fix that problem today, right after she got off work. She would go over to the zoo and pay her admission, enter and make her way to the African lion exhibit. It was the only way to prove to herself that there wasn't a lion in there waiting for her. Wanting her. Shana spent the next eight hours working. Though she tried hard to keep her mind on her work and the

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customers that came in, she still would stop at the big window. Her gaze would stray across the road to the zoo. When four o'clock rolled around and her relief walked through the door, she grabbed her purse. Muttering a quick good-bye, Shana ran out the door and jumped into her car. Watching for traffic both ways, she pulled out of the parking lot and drove across the road. She pulled into a parking space not far from the entrance, got out and ambled up to one of the booths. An old lady sat inside, munching on an apple and reading a book. Putting both the half-eaten apple and the book down, she looked up with a smile. "A ticket?" the old lady asked. "Yes, just one, please." Digging through her purse, Shana found a ten-dollar bill and handed it over. The lady smiled. "It's only half price, dearie, as we close in a couple hours. That's five dollars. Though if you don't have anything less than that ten, I can give you back change." Shana thrust the ten back into her purse and rummaged until she found a five. She slid it toward the lady, who handed her back a ticket. Then she hurried through the turnstile, tossing her ticket to a bored, young man and entered the zoo grounds. She ignored the flamingos flapping their pink wings, streaked past the bear exhibit, circled around the giraffes, and made her way to the exhibit that held the big cats. A leopard screamed while a black panther paced its cage, its yellow eyes zeroing on her as she passed. Shana found the lion enclosure and stopped at exactly where she always stood in her nightmare. Three lionesses lay on fake rock ledges, one's maw opened wide as it yawned. A male stood not far from them, young, and with not much of a mane. What there was of it was only brown with black ends. Not the unrelenting black of her dreams. She didn't

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see the dream male among them and breathed a sigh of relief. Her sigh broke in mid-breath though, when a shadow exited from the entrance to the quarters where the lions slept at night. The shadow lengthened, reaching toward her with grasping fingers. She backed away from the fence, frightened and knowing with certainty what was approaching. A magnificent male emerged from the darkness, his coat a shiny golden color. A mane of midnight covered his head and reached down to his chest between the two front legs. With eyes of golden brown, he stared directly at her, as if he knew she had come only to view him. Hands over her mouth, she watched as he moved like a regal king. The other male backed out of his direct path, a long, keening sound issuing from young one's jaws. He fell to his belly, as if acknowledging his superior. The older lion turned his head, growled, and continued his way to the boundary. He halted, coming to his goal, and his gaze met hers once more. Shana couldn't tear her eyes away as her fear left her. Something sparked between them and it kept growing, an electrical charge with an odor of burning ozone. Erotic, it made a flush of heat fill her. Finally, she broke free of the lion's spell and, with a cry, bolted. Like a frightened gazelle she ran, shoving pass crowds of people massing at the front entrance. She hurtled along with the others, pushing through the turnstile and out into the parking lot, not stopping until she stumbled into her car. Starting it, she roared out of the parking lot and down the road. She finally quit running when she pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine. Her forehead pressed to the steering wheel, she tried to bring her shaking under control. She called herself a stupid fool for even going to the zoo. The lion was real. Uncanny as it seemed, the dream lion had just been made

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flesh for her this afternoon. What further creeped her out was the fact she had sensed that it knew she was there. Like he had called her to come. With the dreams. Waited for her. And like the dreams lately, she had begun to be turned on. What was wrong with her? He was only an animal. Purse in hand, she climbed out of the car and locked it. She went into the house. Tossing her purse onto the coffee table, she slumped into an armchair to the left of the couch and kicked off her high heels. With a headache coming on and her appetite lacking, Shana decided to retire early. Thank goodness, tomorrow was Saturday and she didn't have to go back to work—she had weekends off due to seniority. She took off her clothes and dropped them all in a pile in the middle of the bedroom floor. Crawling into bed stark naked, she drew the covers up to her chin and fell quickly asleep. **** Ramses paced one end of the cage to the other. He acknowledged the other lions briefly as they watched him with an air of fear and respect. They knew what he really was. Shapeshifter. Changer of forms. One of many that, like him, were behind the myths of werebeasts, except they weren't myths. He stopped and smiled. It was something that a pure lion couldn't do. Sharp fangs glinted in the moonlight. The funny thing about werewolves, werelions, weretigers, and other shapeshifting creatures of magic were that the human stories made claim to a man changing into a beast. Actually, it was the other way around. Among the animal and bird kingdom, a few were born with the magical ability to be able to become a human being. Strangely enough, it seemed only the predators could do this and not those who fed upon vegetation. Ramses could never figure out why this was, but it had always been so.

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Usually a shapeshifter mated with another shapeshifter, but mostly the Dreaming would reveal a human as the potential mate. And so, the identity of his mate had come to him. Ever since he was a cub, he had seen his anisa in dreams. One female shapeshifter, Kaket, had tried to gain his interest, to mate with her. He refused, letting her know that he had the Dreaming, and that his true mate waited for him across the Great Water in another land called America. Angry, Kaket told him he would be sorry he had denied her. The human woman must have dreamed of him too. For today she had come, drawn to him. Ramses had awoken, sensing her. He had left the sleeping quarters and seen her for the first time outside of his dreams. Tall and long limbed, she had a long red golden mane that gleamed like fire when the sunlight struck it. Her eyes were beautiful green, just like the lush grass of home. That gaze of jade had stared into his eyes, stirring him. Breasts, just the right size for a male's hands, jutted forward and tented the man-made material she wore like a second skin. His cock had hardened against his belly, pointing toward her like it was trying to reach for her woman's sex. Ramses had felt the urge to leap over the boundary that separated them and fuck her in his lion or human form, it didn't matter which. The impulse had overtaken him and he almost lost his control when she had turned tail and ran. Time to take it to the next level. With a thrust of his hind legs, Ramses launched through the air and sailed over both the stone boundary and metal fence. He landed on the other side of the cement ground just outside the lion enclosure. Without a backward glance at the other lions, he bounded away. He had a mate to claim and a destiny to fulfill. ****

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Shana rolled over with a moan. Uneasy, she opened her eyes and sat up. The blanket slid down, pooling at her waist. She felt strange, and noticed a film of sweat on her skin. Something was coming. She didn't know how she knew that, but she did. Fear tingled inside her, but she also felt excited, as a sensual awareness raced along her nerves. A burning began to heat up at the entrance to her pussy and she rubbed her thighs together, seeking relief. She lay back down and dipped a hand down to the nest of curls under her stomach, stretching a finger underneath to the moistness there. She masturbated, fucking herself with it. With her thumb, she rubbed her clit. The heat blazed into a fire and she moaned, arching her back. Pushing with her finger faster and faster, she brought herself to the edge and crashed over it. She screamed. The sound echoed in the bedroom. Lying still, her breathing slowed, her body satisfied. But that strange little flame down in her womb still had her aching for something unattainable. She knew that finding just any man to make love to her wouldn't do the trick either. Half drifting into a daydream-like state, she saw a man with golden brown eyes, golden skin, and long raven black hair. His hair was thick enough for a woman to hang onto tightly while he rammed his cock into her. The flame fanned to life again, and she rode another rollercoaster of passion. This time, the volume of her scream that left her throat was several octaves higher than her first one. It boomed like thunder as it filled the room. **** With the sensitive hearing of the werelion, Ramses heard Shana's scream as he stood outside her bedroom window. The sound vibrated through him, leaving him aching with want.

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A golden glow shimmered over him and within seconds, he stood in man form, naked. Grasping his cock, he stroked it, skimming down to where his balls hung heavy and slipping back up to thumb-stroke the head. Harder and faster he jacked himself off, imagining her lying naked among a tangle of sheets and blanket, a sensuous, satisfied look on her beautiful face. He closed his eyes as need tautened his face and body. Almost at the edge, he felt ready to topple over it and fall into the depths of ecstasy. When he reached that pinnacle, he shot a load of cum, splashing the side of her house, and roared like a mighty lion. He sagged against the window, finally spent. It had been incredible. It would even be more so when he shot his seed into her pussy. **** "What was that?" whispered Shana, as she sat up and untangled herself from the sheet twisted around her. Had she heard a roar of some large animal, like a big cat? Swinging her legs off the bed, she stood up and crept over to the window. With care, she lifted an edge of the blind that hung at the window. She peered out through the glass and into the night. Instead, a pair of golden brown eyes stared back at hers! With a shriek, Shana dropped the blind and back stepped from the window. She tripped over a pair of tennis shoes in the middle of the bedroom floor. But before she landed on her butt, a flash of light filled the room and she felt a pair of muscular arms sweep her up, saving her. Though it was dark in her bedroom, she could still see well enough and found her gaze locking with a golden brown one. Shana gasped, fascinated with those eyes, which were alight with passionate promise. She broke contact with them when she was placed upon her bed. She reached over to the bedstead next to her bed and switched on the lamp on it. Light flooded the room,

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bringing into focus the most strikingly handsome man she had ever seen. It was the man she had seen in a vision, as naked as the day he had been born. Now seeing more than his eyes and long, thick raven black hair, she noticed his aristocratic, very feline face with high cheekbones and square jaw. He also had a sensual mouth and a nose that almost seemed cat-like as the nostrils flared, as if he was taking her scent. Shana swept her gaze from his face down a corded neck, traveling down to a pair of massive shoulders. His chest had chiseled pecs, showing a man who surely exercised with weights to be that buff. Almost hairless, his golden skin gleamed and showed every luscious detail of his muscles. His chest tapered into a slim waist and a flat belly of iron stomach muscles. Shana kept her gaze moving downward until she found a nest of black pubic hair at the apex of long, muscular legs, where his cock rose, an impressive length that was thick in girth, too. Heavy sacs hung underneath, also impressive in their maleness. This man screamed alpha male, every mouthwatering inch of him. It suddenly came to her that a strange man stood in her bedroom. Now how he had gotten inside with the bedroom door still closed and her house locked up, she didn't know. Even though she should have been scared, a pool of heat began to flame at the entrance to her pussy. Any minute now she would come again, just from the mere sight of him. Now that did frighten her. An unknown, naked–and yet so very impressive–man had somehow gotten into her bedroom, and she lay before him on her bed, naked too, like a feast just for him. Scarier was the fact that he looked like the man in her vision and she had never even met him in her life. Even if they had previously crossed paths in a crowd somewhere, he was not a man one forgot. As she glanced up at him again, she caught his gaze and saw a

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desperate hunger in it. He pressed one knee onto the mattress, looking like he intended to join her. It jolted her out of her fantasies and back into hard reality. Her hands pressed against his chest. "Whoa there, big boy. I don't think so." Though she doubted that if he wanted her, she could stop him. He smiled. Shana's heart dropped to her stomach, and simultaneously she lowered her hands to the mattress. What a devastating god he was when he smiled. No doubt, no woman would feel safe with her virtue when he did that. Hell, any sane woman would eagerly spread her legs for him. Though the white teeth seemed sharp, almost like fangs, his smile dripped of fuckability. "There's no stopping what I am about to do with you," he said in a dark voice that seemed rusty as if he hadn't used it much. "It's destiny that we mate." Shana raised her hands again and flattened them against his chest. Damn, his chest felt good. "No. I don't know, you and I sure as hell don't even know how you got in here. Besides, you might have all sorts of diseases. You definitely must be a crazy, right? For those reasons and others I can't think of right now. I don't let just any man crawl between my legs." She saw him frown, seemingly puzzled. "I do not have any diseases—my kind has the ability to not get any during mating, if that is what you meant. Besides, I have never mated with another before now as the dreaming has foretold that you are my mate. I am Ramses, your mate. You know me, have dreamed of me for this past week, and you came to see me earlier today because of the link between us." "I didn't come to see…" Shana broke off, as she remembered going to the zoo and seeing the lion from her nightmares. She remembered

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his thick black mane, as long and black as Ramses' long hair and most of all, she remembered the big cat's golden brown eyes in its golden face. The same eyes that she could see glittering with lust in this man's face. Oh, God. "The lion," she hissed out, as she tried to escape from Ramses. "Yes, that was me, the lion," Ramses said, climbing onto the mattress quickly and grabbing Shana by her shoulders, stopping her escape. "I am a shapeshifter. I can be the lion, and then I can be the man. I saw you in the Dreaming, at my home in Africa, the land where I come from." She shook her head, fighting the lust that warmed her body at his touch. "You aren't from the zoo?" she asked stupidly. "No, I let humans capture me and bring me across the Great Water so I could come here, to find you. My world is of the tall, lush grass of the savannah, humid, tropical heat, and days of hunting the gazelle and wildebeest. But my time had come, to seek my mate and take her. You are the one promised to me to bear my cubs, to be forever mine." His voice held a note of certainty that sent her heartbeat skittering. His gaze held a resolve that didn't let her believe there could be no other option. "The Dreaming has never failed any of my kind, so have no doubts you are the one who will share my life until the darkness of death takes away the light." She moaned as he pressed his lips to her neck, licking the skin there. Like a cat's, his tongue felt raspy, but the sensation also felt incredibly erotic. She arched her back and her breasts grazed his chest as his mouth left her neck to capture her lips. He drank deeply, his tongue slipping between her lips to find hers and waltzed sensually with it.

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"See, there are only us and this hot, humid passion that fans the air between us," he panted against her mouth. "Do not deny our destiny." Ramses pushed her down into the bed, caressing the satin curves of her hips. He squeezed, and her breath caught. Then he covered her and she felt his hardness pressed to her softer length. His cock snug against her hip, he took her lips again, giving her a soul-drenching kiss that took her breath away. All thoughts that she was making love with something akin to a myth, that only that afternoon he had been a lion, flew out the window as his hands stroked her skin and he continued to kiss her deeply. He sure knows how to use those hands and lips. Ramses smiled as he withdrew his lips from hers and looked into her eyes. She saw that the smile shone in his eyes, too. "That is nothing; wait till my cock is inside you. I plan to use that well." Shocked, her eyes widened as she realized he could read her thoughts. His grin grew. "Yes, our connection enables me to do so. Given time, you will, too." Shana reached between their bodies and found his penis. She stroked her thumb over the head. "I bet you will use this well." Ramses purred. Shana paused in her stroking. "Did you purr? Like a cat?" He dipped his hand underneath her mound and pushed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it. She arched her back, crying out. He kissed her cheek and slipped two fingers into her moistness, beginning to fuck her with them. "Did you not just purr, my anisa?" he said with a laugh. She moaned. "What does anisa mean?"

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"My joy, my pleasure. You are that, and much more. You are also my anando. My bliss." Shana grabbed his head and dragged his lips to her. "Just shut up, and fuck me." "Mmmmmmm…out of patience, are we?" Ramses laughed and captured her mouth with his, laying waste to every hope of reserve. His tongue fucked her mouth, his fingers doing the same thing to her lower lips. She strained against him, consumed with need, driven to demand he satisfy her craving. Now. This instant. It didn't matter what he really was. She needed the instant gratification she now realized only he could give to her. Powerless to resist whatever he wanted of her, she felt bereft when his fingers left her. But elation filled her as he parted her thighs to allow him in. With one, powerful thrust he entered her, breaking the hymen that was her badge of virginity, swallowing her cry of pain. He stilled, letting her adjust to his fullness, then began to thrust slowly in and out. Ramses took his lips away and purred. "I am pleased that you never gave your precious gift to a human male. You are now truly my mate, my anisa, in all the ways that matter." "Oh, anando," he moaned. She felt her muscles tighten around his length. "I love your sweet scent. Anisa, it smells uniquely you, like sandalwood. It's the same odor I smelled from you at the zoo, and I cannot get enough of it." Shana shifted, crying softly as she rocked her hips up to his. Suddenly, there seemed to be nothing in the world but satisfying her own urgent need. With a low growl, he lifted the top part of his body from her. Grasping his hips, she watched as he drew back and pumped into her again and again. Like a whirlwind out of control, he fucked her hard and fast, plunging deeper each time. She mewed and

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panted alternately, reveling in their unstinted passion and the quake of her swiftly coming release. Proving it could be possible, their rhythm quickened like a brush fire out of control. Her panting growing wilder, she almost screamed when Ramses caressed her right breast and took the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Instead, she moaned and he obliged her, squeezing as he drove into her faster. Her release came in that instant. She gasped, letting the sound flee her mouth, and she jerked in his grasp. Keeping her eyes open, she watched with satisfaction as Ramses closed his eyes, surrendering his will to the overriding sensations. Shana enjoyed the way her pussy clenched him, squeezing tight. She enjoyed knowing it had drawn him over the edge of exploding oblivion when he threw back his head and roared like the king of the jungle. Jets and jets of his warm cream filled her. Obviously contented, he sagged onto her, unable to summon the strength or concern to move for a moment. When he came to, he rolled off her onto his side and pulled her back into him, wrapping an arm around her waist. Ramses stuck his nose against the back of her neck and sighed. "I love your sexy, sweaty smell, anisa. I love you." It should have freaked her out that he professed to love her so soon. But then, if he had dreamed of her as long as she had, maybe not. She realized that yes; she felt something for him too. Whether that was love, she wasn't sure, but something jumped at his declaration. Her senses were drowsy with the sweet satisfaction of a woman fucked just right. She nestled her ass and back against his front and softened penis. A smile graced her lips as he nuzzled her neck. Shana's eyelids drooped over her eyes, and unable to fight the drowsiness, she fell asleep in his arms. She slept until dawn and, upon waking, felt a male body pressed against her in a tight fit. Gently, she slipped

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out from under his arm and rolled over facing him, breathing in his male scent. Asleep, Ramses didn't look like a fierce predator. He looked more like a sweet-faced boy, except for the five o'clock shadow that dusted his cheeks and chin. Just like human men, even werelions in their human shape needed to shave in the mornings. She smiled, as a feeling of overwhelming contentment stole over her. If someone had told her that sex could be so intense, so...inspiring, she'd done it long ago. But then again, maybe only with Ramses could it have been this mind searing. Perhaps a human male could have never touched her sweet spot. It took a man not even human to give her such spectacular sex. Again though, a little voice inside her reminded, this had been her first time with any man, human or nonhuman. She knocked that thought back down into her consciousness. With Ramses, she had cast caution and fear to the wind. She not only surrendered to, but also explored the carnal impulse that crashed over her like a wave upon a beach. No, she didn't regret it either. Never before had she felt this physically sated and contented, even when she masturbated. Her smile vanished as she realized that she could be pregnant. He hadn't used a condom. Being a shapeshifter from the jungle, most likely he didn't know what a condom was. Maybe he was disease free as he had mentioned, but no doubt filling her belly with his babies is what he really wanted. Just another way for the beast to mark his mate. Mixed emotions confused her, made her nervous. Ramses' eyes opened and she scuttled to the edge of the bed. His arm snaked out and caught her, dragging her back to him. "Where do you think you are going?" he asked, a purr like a soft undercurrent echoed in his voice.

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She shivered, becoming aroused as she felt her breasts pressed against his chest, her mound against his hardness. He sniffed at her neck, breathing her in, and his voice rumbled like a contented lion from his chest. Her shivering increased and her nipples tightened into little beads as a side effect from the vibrations of that purr. "Oh, God," she cried out. "Your arousal is the most wonderful scent, anisa. I can almost taste its unique flavor—all woman." His tongue flicked out and circled her mouth, the tip tickling like a feather. He drove it past her lips and continued the tickling, this time the roof and walls of her mouth. Shana moaned. He dug his hands underneath her bottom, caressing and squeezing both cheeks and compelling her closer to his thick stiffness. Slowly, he urged her thighs to part and let him in. The head of his cock entered her and with one hard thrust, he buried himself to his balls. Shana could feel those sacs against her entrance, full and heavy. He thrust just once, the head of his organ pushing against the wall of her womb. She moaned into his mouth and Ramses stopped. He took his mouth away and a wicked smile graced his lips. "You will never, ever, be able to deny that my cock doesn't belong inside your sweet, wet pussy. You are the lock, and I am your key, turning on your burning passion." He began to stroke, pushing in and withdrawing, thicker and heavier with each movement. Shana lost all conscious thought. All she cared about was him taking her beyond anywhere she had ever been. No, she felt beyond care, beyond pain, toward a misty distant shore named ecstasy. More than mere touching and tickling and teasing and tonguing, he swept her along by the fervor of his fucking. She saw the rapture in his eyes blazing into molten gold when his gaze locked with hers. She felt the moment coming, and then, together, they clung to each other.

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Shana cried out and her nails dug deep into his muscled back as he stilled and convulsed, spilling the warmth of his release deep into her. She clung to him, discovering that somehow during their frantic, sweaty lovemaking he had wrapped her legs around him. Weeping with shuddering joy, she let him kiss her with tenderness, their mouths locked together and their bodies still cloistered together in intimate union. I do love him. She realized with both wonder and shock, worried that he would read the thought as he had with her earlier one. He did. "I love you, too, anisa. It is destiny." Sweat matted her hair, plastering it to her face and shoulders. With tenderness, he lifted those strands and placed them over her pillow. He caressed her face and leaned over to lick the sweat off, his tongue circling like a cat drinking cream. "You taste and smell of our fucking. Do you know what I see when I look at you? Raw, carnal sex. More beautiful in reality then when I saw you in the Dreaming." He leaned closer with every word, his tongue flicking out to capture the drops of moisture here and there, ending at a trickle on the nipple of her right breast. He drew the nipple inside his mouth and suckled it like a baby breastfeeding. Shana moaned and arched her back, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. He pulled away and chuckled. "Just like in the dreaming, you are passion incarnate, ready to fuck and be fucked. My mate." A sigh escaped him. "But I must go, before the humans at the zoo discover a lion is missing from the enclosure." His eyes gleamed like molten gold as he stared down into Shana's eyes. "Tonight I will be back and then we will leave for my world, my anisa. I cannot wait—I am of the wild and do not like being caged."

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His body lifted up over hers and she saw him get on his hands and knees. Slowly, he morphed into his lion form. She watched as he began to fade away, his eyes the last thing she saw. Then they too, vanished. Alone on the bed, she began to shiver as the cool air found her flesh. **** A woman stood in the zoo's parking lot. She had tolerated as much as she could. Finally, she had to leave the savannahs and hot, moist heat for the human-bred world. A world where the disgusting odors of things made from metal and unwashed human bodies assailed her nostrils. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands as she fought to keep from retching. "Hey, good looking, what's cookin'?" Kaket turned and saw a skinny, arrogant human male. His over-sized T-shirt had holes in a couple places and his jeans hung low on his bony hips. Nothing about him seemed worth her time, but then her stomach rumbled. She smiled, baring sharp teeth. The man dropped his grin and suddenly looked a little nervous. Her smile grew wider. Good, he should be frightened. This human would soon know why she had been named for the goddess of darkness. She reached out a hand and stroked his cheek. His skin felt abrasive as it was covered with stubble. She hated the feel, preferring soft fur. But beggars couldn't be choosy when in a land empty of gazelle and other prey. Besides, she remembered the taste of human flesh from previous kills, and it did have a better taste than gazelle flesh. Humans were easier to hunt, too; you didn't need to stalk them. She purred into his ear, the words a husky whisper. "Why don't we go somewhere quiet to be alone with each other? Then you can show me how much of a man you

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really are." She slipped her other hand down to his crotch, pressing the palm of her hand against it. She felt his length grow. Hummph. He thinks he can pleasure me with that pathetic worm? She was interested in his cock all right, just not for what he planned for it. Stupid, pathetic human male. He slipped an arm around her waist and went with her as she led him away from the parking lot and the zoo. Spying an area full of darkness, she drew him into it, and they passed between shadow-ridden buildings, halting when a six-foot wooden fence loomed before them. The shadows that surrounded them deepened. She slipped from under his arm and gave him a hard shove back against the fence. Pressing herself against him, she began to lick his face with her tongue. He tasted so delicious. The man laughed. "Damn, your tongue feels rough, but still kinda sexy. It's like you trying to get a taste of me, or something. It's a big turn on for me." Kaket paused, and stared into his eyes. "Oh, I am having a taste, but it is not meant to be a turn on for you." She felt herself changing and smiled, knowing that her true self was taking over. Pinning him to the fence, she gripped his head, and as her claws spiked from her fingertips they imbedded deep into his skin. He screamed from the pain. "Now instead of having a taste, I am going to eat you." She said with a half laugh, half snarl. The sound carried in the air, louder than his yelling. "And I never waste anything, either." She captured his mouth with hers, cutting off his scream. Where her mouth had been, a lioness's snout jutted out, sharp fangs replacing the human teeth in the maw. His fear radiated from his skin pores and from

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wetting his pants. Instead of hating the odor, Kaket reveled in it. She bit into his face and began to feed. **** Ramses lifted his head. Something was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but his senses had never failed him before. He had been asleep in the lion enclosure den when something disturbed his dream of his mate. As he woke, a familiar scent wafted to him. His stomach churning, he got to his feet and left the enclosure's den. He padded over to the stone barrier. Uneasy, he stared over it from his vantage point. A woman stood on the other side. Long, golden hair fell over her shoulders, and she had golden skin and darkbrown eyes. A strange, secretive smile flitted across her red lips. She wore a pair of baggy jeans, an oversized Tshirt and was barefooted. The clothes seemed stained with something still wet. Ramses sniffed and recoiled when he realized what the wetness was. Human blood! Kaket. By all the darkness of daemons, the bitch was here. Did she still think she could get him to become her mate? Whom had she killed and feasted on? He could smell the blood not only on the stolen clothing and her skin, but also on her breath as she laughed just then. Hello, Ramses. Her thoughts wormed their way into his head, the voice deep and rich like chocolate, but also mocking in tone. You obviously came to this pathetic world of the humans because the Dreaming told you to seek a human female to mate. She drew nearer and gripped the metal fence. He saw that her fingernails had lengthened into sharp claws. Her face blurred, becoming a lioness's face one moment, and then reverting back to the human one. I will rid you of my human competition and then maybe, great king, you will mate with me, as it should be.

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She spun around and took off, speeding past the throngs of frightened people. They sensed something not right about her and parted like the Red Sea, letting her by. Ramses had to get to Shana before Kaket did. He had to protect his mate. No longer caring if anyone saw, Ramses chanted and a golden light surrounded his entire self, and he dissipated. His eyes the last to go, he saw the humans as they screamed and pointed at the spot where he had been. Clearly, he would be missed. However, that didn't matter now, only the life of his anisa. **** Shana paused, as the sound of breaking glass reached her ears. Realizing that it came from her kitchen, she inched with careful steps to the entranceway and peeked around the corner. A snarling lioness paced inside, stopping occasionally to swing a claw-tipped paw at the pieces of broken china and glass scattered all over the linoleum floor. Her tail lashed the air in anger and agitation. She stilled, and turned toward where Shana stood. Its brown gaze narrowed on her. The big cat snarled. All Shana could think of was how many fangs filled that maw. She began to back away slowly, ready to make a break for it and run, when she noticed something peculiar happening. A familiar golden glow appeared around the lioness and when it vanished, a beautiful nude woman stood there. Both the woman's skin and fall of hair gleamed like antique gold. Dark brown eyes narrowed just like the lioness's had as she stared at Shana, a dangerous glint in them. She lifted her lips barely, revealing sharp fangs instead of pearl-like teeth. Oh, God. She was a shapeshifter, with apparently nothing good for Shana.

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The back door flung open and slammed back against the wall with a loud bang. "Kaket!" Ramses stood in the doorway, naked, his eyes dark with anger and his nostrils flaring wide. His chest was heaving, as if he had been running for miles and miles nonstop. The woman laughed as she flicked her gaze at him. "Protecting your human mate, Ramses?" Her eyes darted back to Shana. "Humans are fit for only one thing, mighty king, and that is food for us and all predators." She stared back at Ramses again. "Though I'm sure you had a different kind of eating in mind when you fucked her." "Bitch." "We would have been good together, Ramses." Kaket's voice held regret. She began to utter under her breath foreign words and the golden glow returned, caressing every part of her skin. Gulping down deep breaths of fear, Shana's gaze found Ramses' gorgeous, nude body, and she saw that he was encased in the same glow. Both glowing lights broke apart like fog vanishing and a lion and lioness stood there, facing each other. Ramses' beautiful fur shone like newly minted gold, his black mane and the tuft at the end of his tail an unending black. His eyes more golden then brown, he roared a challenge at the werelioness. Kaket snarled and pawed the kitchen rug near her, her claws shredding the material. Her dark brown eyes swirled like choppy, muddy waters as hatred glared from them. A lithe, sleek form that rippled muscle with every move, she crouched low and sprang at Ramses. She flew at him, a ballet of perfect, ferocious symmetry. Shana screamed and fell back against the wall as Kaket slammed into Ramses. Like one body, both werelions merged together, rolling, fur flying and claws

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slashing the air. Both rolled from the kitchen into the living room, smashing into furniture and knocking things over, a destructive force. Roars filled the room, thunderous. Shana followed them and sunk to the floor, her back to the wall. She knew she should run. Only a stupid idiot wouldn't. But she couldn't, wondering at her lover's outcome against the other shifter. Her heart pounding, Shana sat on the floor, her hands covering her ears and tears leaking from her eyes. It wasn't just fear of what could happen to her or that the two felines battling weren't natural lions, but that Kaket could kill Ramses. She knew then that she loved him, and to lose him now would surely be the most terrible thing that had ever to happen to her. As suddenly and as quickly, as the fight started, it abruptly ended. Kaket slipped away from Ramses and reshaped into a half woman, half lioness form. Standing on two oddly misshapen feet, with incredible strength she grabbed a nearby end table and broke it over Ramses' massive head. He dropped unconscious to the floor. Kaket whirled around to stare at Shana, baring a fangridden grin that seemed macabre in so hideous a face. Her fear heightened, Shana rose to her feet slowly, her eyes caught in Kaket's glittering gaze. Something passed between them and Shana felt an erotic pulse, flavoring her fear with sexual need. And she turned and fled, letting her feet carry her from the room. Nervous, clumsy even, she managed to get outside the house. Not bothering to look back, she sensed that Kaket followed, hot on her heels. She kept running, until something slammed into her back and knocked her haphazardly to the ground. Dirt and gravel forced its way into her nose, mouth, and eyes, lacerating her skin. One hand had gotten caught beneath her, while the other lay, scraped and sore, swung out along the ground.

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Pain filled her as she lay on her belly. A body lay on top of her, keeping her from moving. Hot breath steamed her ear as a deep, feminine voice whispered into it. "Such a pretty little thing, so soft," Kaket said with a laugh, "sweet-smelling, and sweet-tasting, too, even under all that dirt." Shana felt something wet at her neck and shuddered as she realized Kaket had licked her. The heaviness unexpectedly abated and strong hands flipped her over onto her back. No longer the terrifying beast woman, Kaket laid her naked body on Shana's. Her lips captured Shana's and took a taste, then another and another as her tongue invaded Shana's mouth. Shocked and repulsed, Shana stilled, as Kaket stroked her body, tearing at the clothing to let her fingers dance across forbidden skin. Oh, dear God, she’s sexually molesting me. The werelioness lifted her head and stared into Shana's eyes with amusement and lust. "Shocked, repulsed?" she asked. "That I would even want to maybe fuck the human female of Ramses, when I always felt he should be mine?" She laughed, the sound loud and ugly. "But that's me, depraved. Willing to try anything. Though I did this before with a female of my kind back in Africa." She pressed her face, nose to nose, with Shana's. "Besides, I always play with my food before I eat it." Shana screamed and tried to shake Kaket off her. But the other woman pressed her body harder onto Shana's, and her stroking turned into sharper clawing as her nails became claws. She raked Shana's sides with deep, bloody gouges. Shana's screams became higher-pitched sounds of pain piercing the air. A loud roar vibrated in the air and Kaket leaped off Shana. With an evil smile, she turned to face a large lion.

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Chapter Two Ramses stood there, bloody scratches etched deep into his golden body. To Shana, he never seemed more beautiful than at that moment. She climbed to her feet, ignoring her ripped open T-shirt and her naked breasts spilling out, and the blood and scratches along her sides. Hobbling over to some nearby trees and bushes, she watched and waited. Ramses sprung at Kaket, whose own body melted and reformed in a light, becoming the lioness. Feline screams of rage and deep-throated roars rent the air as they fought each other, fang and claw. Shana couldn't believe that no one heard the sounds, that no one came out to investigate or that even the police hadn't been called. Sweeping her gaze around her she saw only shuttered windows of homes, their doors remaining closed. No one walked or moved around the area. It looked like a deserted neighborhood, with no one home. She felt it then, the strange heat that shimmered in the air. Ramses' voice talked in her head. Do not worry, anisa. No one will come, for I used my magic. No one will know when this bitch is destroyed, no one except you and me. Go home, anisa—I will come to you when Kaket is gone for good. Shaking, Shana bolted for home. **** Ramses broke free and bounded away, only to turn around. Belly low to the ground, he narrowed his eyes as Kaket stood on shaky legs. Breathing heavily, she lifted one corner of her upper lip and snarled.

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Defiant. She had always been that way, since the first time she forced her way out of her mother's womb. Ramses had only been six years old at the time, but he remembered it well. Her mother had been a shapeshifter, who had mated with some great white hunter, who had been hunting and killing the lions in the area they lived in. He had captured Kaket's mother, Boahinmaa one day and she had changed to her human shape, revealing to the man what she really was. Instead of fearing her, the hunter had been intrigued. Boahinmaa and he had made love, conceiving Kaket. But his fate had been sealed. When hunting the lions, he had killed and bagged another shapeshifter. Ramses' father, Amir, killed him as retribution for the pride's loss. The werelioness went into the bush to mourn him for a month, and subsequently reappeared one day. She spoke to no one, not until the day of Kaket's birth. Even during the labor, she took the birth pangs stoically. After Kaket was born and cleaned up, she spoke for the first time. Her eyes on Amir, Ramses watched as she snarled, "I am dying, oh mighty king of werelions. I charge my daughter, Kaket, to my sister, Chanecia, to be raised by her. Tom Porter was my soul mate and you took him away from my den. His soul is in his daughter and she will avenge him one day, on your descendants." She expired. Coming back to the present, Ramses called out. "Is all this to do with your human father, Kaket?" She didn't answer at first. Then she laughed. "Oh yes, you would have some notion that this is about my dead mother's proclamation, that my human father be avenged. You think this is all about him? Humans, be damned! They are only fit to be prey, nothing more. If my father had been stupid enough to be caught unaware by your father, then he deserved his death. No,

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this is about me. I say mate with other shapeshifters, but humans—never." She paced back and forth, never taking her eyes off him. He rose to all four paws and lifted his chin. "The shapeshifters have always listened to the Dreaming and mated with human kind. It will always be so. Surely, there will be someone for you…" She growled, "Fuck the Dreaming! I had mine and I found it to be some pathetic human male. I killed the bastard and ate him. And you know what? He tasted delicious." She slashed the air with a claw-tipped paw. "I'm tired of all this chit chat. You don't want to come back to our land with me, Ramses. You want to be with your little human bitch. So let's get on with it." She leaped at him with a loud roar. Just as she reached Ramses, he began to mutter some words under his breath and piece by piece she dissipated. The last thing to go was her head and Ramses laughed as she screamed with anger and frustration. It was temporary, but being the pride leader entitled him to more beast magic. So it would take Kaket some time to escape from where he sent her. Ramses lifted his nose to the air and found Shana's scent. Need filled him and he loped off, making for her house. **** Shana ran inside her home and slammed the door shut behind her. Whirling around, she bolted all the locks. Then she made sure every window and door was locked tight. She couldn't do anything about the shattered window in her kitchen unfortunately. Searching for something to use as a weapon, Shana found a sharp pair of scissors and entered the kitchen. Her eyes on the shards of glass that littered the floor, Shana righted one chair that hadn't been destroyed and sat down to wait.

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The shaking began again. Looking down at herself, Shana saw that the bleeding had worsened. Still gripping the scissors, she headed down the hallway to the bathroom. Numb with shock, she placed the scissors nearby on the edge of the bathtub where she could grab them at any time. She dug out a washcloth and climbed into the shower. Turning on the water, she stood beneath its spray and washed off the blood and dirt. After she dried herself, she dug out salve and bandages to dress her wounds. She threw away her shredded T-shirt, wadded up her pants and tossed them into the dirty clothes bin. A search in her bedroom closet found her a pair of shorts and a tank top to put on. Just as she was about to leave, she realized she had forgotten her scissors. She rushed back into the bathroom, still lying where she had left them. Out of the blue, the absurdity of her situation hit and she began to laugh, slowly sinking down to the tile floor. The laughter grew wilder and morphed into crying. Shana covered her face with her hands. She had dreamed of a passionate man, smart and strong, like an animal in bed. Well, she got what she wished for. More than she wished for, in fact. Her dream man really was an animal, in all the ways possible. A king of the jungle, type alpha. Wiping away her tears, she climbed to her feet. "Anisa?" Shana started. Whipping around, a gasp in her throat, she caught Ramses standing in the opened door of her bedroom. His shoulder propped against one side of the doorway, he looked wonderful, even with all the wounds on him. She trembled, standing up to move toward him. "What happened?" He opened his arms and she stepped into them. "I won." "Did you…did you kill her?"

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He rubbed his nose against the tip of hers. No one had ever done that to her before and it felt good. Erotic, actually. "No," he replied. "I just magicked her away. For now." She stepped back out of his arms and held him at arms length. "You did what?" He shrugged. "As you noticed that when we change, we use magic. That is beast magic. Well, we can do more than just shift forms with our beast magic." A frown wrinkled Shana's forehead. "But she can get revenge on you." "No, anisa, she won't. Not for a long while anyway. Where I sent her, it will take her some time to escape." He drew her back into his arms and rubbed his naked, bloody chest against her nipples. They hardened and peaked against the material of her tank top. Unable to help it, she moaned as heat pooled between her thighs. Trying to keep things on track, she pressed her palms against his chest and tried to push him away. "Where. Did. You. Send. Her?" "To werelion hell, you humans might say. I sent her to a zoo in some little town in the middle of nowhere. There's only one other lion in it, a very old one, and he hasn't had a good mating in years. He'll keep her busy." Her jaw dropped open in surprise. He leaned over and captured it, his tongue slipping inside her mouth to play with hers. Withdrawing his lips and tongue, he picked her up and carried her out of the bedroom to her bathroom. Inside, he let her slide down tight against his body. Shana felt his cock thrust against her belly. There was no doubt what he wanted. No doubt at all. He whispered into her ear. "Turn the shower on. Not only do I need to wash off this blood, but I can think of plenty things we can do under the water."

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She turned on both the hot and cold faucets, then moved until the shower came on. The water streamed down to the tiles. Ramses climbed in, drawing her in with him. He ripped off her shorts and top, flinging the wet things onto the bathroom floor. Grabbing the soap and a clean washrag, she soaped up his entire body, observing that except for the blood, nothing remained evident of the fight he had with Kaket. Every wound had disappeared. He noticed her questioning look. A smile lit up his face. "We heal extremely fast. Any cubs we have will have that ability, too." But his smile faded at finally catching sight of her bandaged sides. "I will have to guard you closely, keep others of my kind, along with animals and bad humans, from doing harm to you. You are so fragile, my anisa." She shivered as he took the soap and cloth from her and put them aside. He pulled her to his body and began to kiss her. Gentle at first, his kissing grew more demanding. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and mimicked what he wanted to do to her pussy. She moaned something into his mouth. He drew away. "What did you say?" "Fuck me," she whispered. "Repeat that. Louder." "Fuck me. Take me hard and fast." "But your sides, anisa—" She found his cock and began to stroke him. He moaned, his eyes closing as he gave into his lust. "Fuck that," Shana said. "I need medicine of another kind. Just shut up and make me feel better." His hands cupped her ass, lifting her up. She circled her legs around his hips while she clasped her hands around his neck. Pushing her against the tile wall of the shower, Ramses slammed his entire length into her as the steaming water cascaded down on them, fogging up the

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bathroom. His eyes glowed golden with passion. He kept thrusting into her over and over. Suddenly, he closed his eyes and roared, plunged inside her one last time. He stilled, and spent his seed deep inside her womb. She came several seconds later and held onto him tightly as she shuddered with her need. He opened his eyes and stared into hers. A grin brightened his face. "When I set out to cure someone, I really do the job, do I not?" "Ha-ha, Dr. Marcus Welby." A frown burrowed in his forehead. "Dr. Marcus Welby?" "Forget it," she said with a sigh. "I get a man—sort of. One who's great in bed, but is not up on the world per say. Oh, well, we're not all perfect, are we?" Ramses snorted. His organ hardened inside her. He began to move again, doing it ever so slowly. He whispered into her ear, "Am I not perfect, anisa?" Shana shuddered. "Oh God, yes!" His movements grew faster and harder. Once again, he fucked her without breaking a sweat, just stared into her eyes. With another great roar of a lion, he spewed deep into her and she reached her peak with him this time, her own scream just as loud. Ramses kissed her gently as his cock softened and slipped out of her. He pulled away, whispering, "We will go home now." Dazed, she asked, "Home? I am home…" "I meant my home. Back to the savannah of tall grass. Where we will mate and I will put my cubs in you, continue my line, if it has not already happened already." Her eyes widened as she understood. "Oh God, you mean Africa, don't you?" He touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb, stroking softly. "Yes, my anisa. I cannot survive here, in

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your world. Unfortunately, I am not a man who becomes a lion, but a lion that changes into a man. That is the truth of shapeshifters. I need to hunt zebra and gazelle. I need to take my real form most times, freely and without fear, but," his eyes glowed with something, "I need you more than life itself, and if I must stay here with you, then so be it." "Oh no, Ramses. You must go back. If anyone finds out what you really are, they'll capture you and stick you in a cage, do experiments on you." "Come away with me then." He climbed out of the shower. Standing on the floor, he shook himself like a dog. Shana stepped out and grabbed an extra large towel from the towel rack. "Here," she said, as she began to dry him, "this is what humans dry with, not shake ourselves off like animals." Once dried, he did the same for her, taking special care of her breasts and between her thighs. His gentle touch began to light another fire inside her, but knowing other things needed to be done, Shana stepped away from him and entered her bedroom on shaky legs. "I need time, Ramses." She glanced back over her shoulder at Ramses and saw him standing at the threshold, a frown on his face. "I have to get shots, I think, plus I need a passport, then there's..." He stalked over to her and pressed his fingers over her mouth. "Hush. It will be easy if this is all you have to worry about. There are many shapeshifters everywhere. I am not talking about werelions, but other kinds of werebeings. There are those who survive in your world, because this is their world also." "You mean like...werewolves? There really are werewolves, too?"

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He grinned. "You can believe in me, but not in werewolves, legends your world has more knowledge of?" He guffawed. Embarrassed, her cheeks flushed red. "Yeah, I guess that does sound silly. If you exist, then werewolves would, too." She looked back into his eyes. "But I'm not sure about this. I can't just go and live in the bush like some wild animal. I love you, but I have been used to living in a house, sleeping in a soft bed, and eating at a table, all my life. It can't work." She saw his mouth open and she pressed her fingers against it. "Wait, hear me out. I love you, I really do. But will our love survive me learning to camp out on your savannah of tall grasses? When I try to give birth, with only some shapeshifter midwife there to assist me, with no hospital, no doctors, or anything modern if something should go wrong? How long will your love for me exist then, Ramses? How long will mine?" He took her fingers away, still holding them, stroking her hand with his thumb. "Now, listen to me. I do not expect my very human mate to sleep on the grass or in the trees. There is a house waiting for you, in a jungle clearing. No, there are not a lot of modern conveniences in it, but enough to make you happy, I think. I am not a primitive. As for when it is time to give birth to my cubs, we have beast magic, plus one of my kind is a learned doctor who left to become one and came back home to open a clinic." He bent his head down and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "Please, come away with me. Be mine." Shana stared up into his eyes for a moment, and with a smile, said yes. He laughed and picked her up, kissing her as he swung her around in a circle.

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Chapter Three It took a little longer than Ramses would've liked, but two months later Shana was packed and ready to leave. She managed to sell her car to a small dealership and she picked up her last paycheck from her job. The house hadn't been hers, being just a rental. Of course, there had been the lease, but somehow Ramses had gotten the landlord to let her out of it. How, she didn't know and didn't want to, either. She just saw the frightened glances the man darted at Ramses when he stopped by to let her know. She stared back at the house as they drove away in a cab, not feeling an ounce of regret. A glance aside at Ramses' profile and she knew that no matter what, she was going on a new adventure, with a man who meant the world to her. Surely, nothing could go wrong. **** Kaket stared down at the old lion. One try at mating her and the old beast had had a heart attack. Now she had to figure a way out of this hellish place. She thought of several spells that might work and tried them. None of them worked, though. Keeping the upset zookeeper from getting the dead lion to amuse herself, Kaket racked her brain for more spells. She needed the right one to escape this fleabag of a zoo and get her back to Africa. Because she had no doubt that Ramses and his female slut were on their way back home by now. If it took her a long while, so be it, but she would escape and she would get her revenge on him and that bitch he planted his cock in.

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She began to laugh, and casting a side glance, saw the horrified zookeeper as he realized she was actually laughing like a human. Mmmmm... She wondered how he'd taste. **** The plane touched down at the airport in Johannesburg, South Africa. Shana walked, oblivious of where she was going, and stared wide-eyed at the mixture of black and white people and even Indians that filled the terminal. Ramses grabbed her arm and she stopped. A very tall, dark-skinned African was talking to him. The stranger's hair hung in tightly woven braids, brushing his shoulders. Powerful looking, muscles in every portion of his skin shone as if rubbed with oil. He wore a pair of khaki pants and a lose-fitting white shirt with sandals. It seemed like he was uncomfortable in the clothes he wore. Instead, Shana had the feeling he would have preferred a loincloth, with his chest and feet bare. He moved away and Ramses took Shana's hand. "Come," whispered Ramses, "Montsho has a Jeep waiting for us." They collected her two suitcases and hurried past the crowds to outside where a jeep waited by the curb. The tall black man stood by the driver's side. "Montsho?" asked Shana, as Ramses opened the door and gestured for her to climb in. He stowed her luggage, then climbed in next to her before he answered. He looked at her and she noticed with shock how more feline his eyes had become. "He is the leader of the leopard people. I did say we shapeshifters do stick together, help one another." He waited to carry on until Montsho started the Jeep, driving away from the airport. "Montsho is a black leopard. In his human form, he blends well among the over seventy percent black population of South Africa. He is one of the few who has

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contact with humans in their cities. Then he goes around teaching the rest of us who live in the Bushveld, making sure we know how to act among mankind when we go forth." Shana stared out at the city as they drove through it. "Are there other humans where we are going? Ones that know about shapeshifters, I mean?" He stroked her cheek as if he couldn't get enough of touching her. "Yes. Most are mated to the shapeshifters, though there are others that know of us and protect us from humans who would not understand." "Does Montsho have a mate?" Shana questioned in a low whisper. She saw Montsho stiffen. He had heard her. Ramses' golden brown gaze moved from her to the other shifter. He leaned closer to her until his warm breath fanned her ear. "No, he does not," he answered with a soft whisper. "He has not had the Dreaming and will not even mate with another shifter of his kind. He says he will remain mateless if he cannot dream of a human female for himself." They drove for a long time in silence. Lulled by the ride, Shana started to nod off against Ramses' arm. Before she did though she felt him take his arm away and circled it around her shoulder, letting her cushion her head upon his chest. His heat and the movement made it easy to completely drift off. "Wake up, sleepyhead." Shana lifted her head, and feeling the crick in her neck, rubbed it and asked, "What?" Ramses laughed with pleasure. "We are here. My world, anisa." He opened the car door on his side and stepped out. Raising his arms, he stretched, showing a feline grace. Then he held out his hand to her and led her out of the Jeep.

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She had been worried about coming to South Africa, but with one glance, she was happy she had allowed herself to go with him. Different grasses, low shrubs and acacia trees covered the rolling, fertile landscape. Weird looking trees decorated here and there. At the questioning frown she had etched on her forehead, Ramses laughed and leaned closer. "Those are baobab trees, anisa. And if you look in the distance, see that mountain, along with the others? That is the Drakensberg. It is Afrikaan for Dragon's Mountain." With a roar, Ramses picked her up and slung her into his arms. "I cannot wait until I show you my home." He looked into her eyes and she saw his lust darkening the gold brown. "Most of all, I cannot wait until I make love to you on the soft grass of the veldt, maybe under my favorite baobab tree." She shivered as he starting moving away from the Jeep and a disinterested Montsho. Ramses caressed her. The shiver became wildfire and it blazed through her. He knew it too, and grinned. She saw that his teeth had sharpened. Slowly, he slid to the ground, her body pressed against his. Even through their clothing, she felt his hardness against her stomach. Backing away, he took off his clothing and stood there, gloriously naked. His cock rose like an arrow, pointing toward the sky. A single bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip. Golden light glowed around him and his frame shrunk toward the ground. The glow dissipated and Ramses stood there in lion form. Butting his head against her, he forced Shana to keep moving. Ramses finally stopped herding her and she saw that they stood underneath a large baobab tree. In the distance, she could see Montsho take her luggage out of the boot and walked away into a grove of trees. Do not worry, anisa. He takes your belongings to the house I promised you.

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Minutes later, Montsho returned and climbed into the Jeep's driver side. He drove away. They were alone. Seeing in the distance a herd of elephants strolling and a few wildebeest drinking from a water hole, she realized they were not as alone as she thought. But no humans at all. There can be shapeshifters, though, she thought to herself. Haven't you learned that not all animals or birds are what they seem? Ramses butted her in the stomach and knocked her to the ground. The glow came again and when it vanished, he stood before her as a naked man. "We are alone, except for the animals that live here." He dragged her into his arms. "Take these clothes off so that we might both get, ah, comfortable. Don't you want to get comfortable?" She squeaked, "You want me to get naked out here? For all to see?" He grinned and began to strip off her clothing. "No one's going to see you. Except maybe the monkey that's up in the branches above us." "What?" She looked up and saw the chattering monkey. Maybe not chattering as much as monkey laughter. "Forget the damn monkey," growled Ramses as he unbuttoned her pants and shoved them down to pool around her feet. The monkey chattered louder and Ramses paused, staring straight up at the bothersome creature. He snarled, baring fangs, and the monkey screeched, jumping down from the tree and running away. He finished undressing her. Her clothes lying discarded on the ground nearby, Ramses knelt at her feet and peered up at her. He parted her thighs and stared at her pussy, soaking wet by that time. With one hand, he made small circles over her

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swollen clit and with the other gently rubbed the engorged pussy lips. It felt so good that all Shana could do was moan her encouragement to keep doing what he was doing. The more he rubbed, the closer Shana came to orgasm. Not ready for her to do so, Ramses stopped rubbing with his hands and lowered his head. Shana almost came the second his mouth touched her there, but he pulled back and told her to relax. Again, he lowered his mouth and began to slowly lick up the juices. The best feeling she had ever experienced, Shana closed her eyes, wanting it to last forever. Ramses teased her clit with his thumb, which made her wetter as he sank his tongue into her deeper. She felt as if she had died and gone to Heaven. It didn't matter if they were out in the open for all to see. Shana leaned back against the baobab tree's trunk and moaned as Ramses tongued her, alternately fucking her with his fingers, too. Unexpectedly, he quit and rose to his feet. "Your turn," he growled, pushing her down to her knees. His cock bobbed in front of her lips and she took it into her mouth. She wanted to taste him, needing to feel his hot cum shoot down her throat. Turned on, she sucked, going faster and faster. With one hand at the base of his shaft and the other cupping his tightening balls, she wanted to make him scream. He began a perfect rhythm of fucking her mouth with both hands on her shoulders holding her steady. Shana slipped her hands around him to his ass. His muscles flexed as he thrust his cock in her mouth. Shana took in his long shaft all the way to base. As he fucked her mouth faster and harder with each thrust, Shana could feel his huge balls bumping against her chin. The feeling was so intense she felt another orgasm building within her. The harder he fucked, the louder he got. Soon he was screaming her name, tugging on her hair, and shooting cream down her throat. It tasted

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great. She grabbed his ass, swallowing his cock all the way down while she rubbed her tongue on the bottom of it. Ramses began to swell again and he shot even more streams of hot cum down her throat. With a mighty roar, he screamed her name. At that sound, Shana shuddered, coming. When he was done, she held his semi-hard cock in her mouth, licking it until it began to harden again. His organ slipped out of her mouth as he lifted her up and met her lips with his. Encircling her in both arms, he pulled her closer to him. He slowly licked her lips with his soft, warm tongue and gently slipped it into her mouth. Not able to hold back her cries, Shana let out a loud moan that made him tighten his hold and kiss her more passionately. His tongue felt like fire in her mouth, dancing with hers, rubbing against her teeth and the roof of her mouth. It was so intense that she almost came just by his kiss. She knew she had to hold onto him tightly or she might collapse just from the ecstasy. Running her hands up and down his back, and then skimming them down to his firm ass, she squeezed the cheeks. She could feel his hard cock getting even harder as it rubbed against her belly; it felt so good that she had to touch it. Slowly reaching around, she gripped its length and stroked his swollen cock. No longer kissing her mouth, he licked his way down her neck to her breasts. The feeling of his warm mouth on her skin turned Shana on so much that she offered one to him by thrusting the nipple into his mouth. His mouth felt warm and wet, sensuous. He gently nibbled and tugged on the nipple, trying to get her closer to climax. So lost was she in the intensity that when he forced her to the ground while continuing to gently bite and suck her nipples she didn't argue. He thrust his knee between her thighs and she eagerly parted them. Taking his engorged prick, he rubbed it on her wet pussy,

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spreading the lips so he could slide in easily. She gasped with pleasure as he did. He started slowly at first, sliding his cock all the way in so she could feel his balls pressing against her ass and sliding out so only his head was in her. He leisurely proceeded for a while and it drove her wild. She wanted him to fuck her hard and fast but he wouldn't budge. "I want it to last, my anisa." He drove deep inside her while she met each thrust. Then as if he sensed she was close to her orgasm, he started to grind into her, building up the speed. The sensation of his cock that deep in her pussy and his balls rubbing against her ass was too much. Shana climaxed, screaming his name and clawing his back. It had to be the most intense orgasm she'd had since they met. The whole time he just looked down at her, smiling with satisfaction. Then his eyes darkened to almost black and he pounded rapidly into her, coming not long after. He spewed streams of his seed deep into her. Sagging, he lay upon her. Sweat covered both of them. Slowly, he lifted his head and kissed her. "I love you." "I love you, too." He got off her and climbed to his feet. Bending over, he picked her up, and nestling her into his arms, took off. He moved with a long-legged gait, leaving their clothes back under the tree without a backward glance. "My...our clothes..." "Leave them. They'll be fine. If not, I can buy you more." He stared down at her. "Besides, I like you more this way. Being naked becomes you." "Where are you taking me?" "To our house. Now, hush, and enjoy the ride." It wasn't long before she saw a small white house in the distance. Beneath some trees that gave it shade, she saw it had a dark red roof. There were windows, the shades pulled down to keep in the coolness she suspected.

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With a kick of Ramses' foot, the door swung open and they entered. Once inside, he let her slide down and closed the door. One click of a switch nearby and light flooded the room. Near from where they stood a staircase swept up and up into shadows. Beyond it, Shana saw a living room, with a couch and matching chair, a coffee table, and couple of end tables. A giant bookcase lined one wall, holding both hardback and paperback books that filled it to overflowing. Surprisingly, a large widescreen television stood in one corner, a DVD player and surround sound nestled on a shelf by it. A quick glance caught a laptop computer on a desk in another corner. At her look of surprise at the modern conveniences, Ramses grinned. "Did you think I was completely primitive?" He picked up a control on the coffee table and pointing it toward the TV, clicked and it came on. Glancing at her, he clicked it back off. Dropping the control back on the table he said, "Besides, I spend most of my days in my lion form, you cannot." He swept a hand around the room. "The books and the rest are for you. If there are books you want, but are not on the shelves, let me know and we can order more. Same goes for the DVDs." "So I might not see you a lot?" He pulled her into his arms. "Oh no, I never said that. Just there will be times I must change shape, and so with all I have, you will not be bored and lonely in the veldt." Ramses nuzzled her, nose to nose, and then kissed her. The kiss deepened as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. With a moan, she pressed herself closer to him, as if trying to melt into his body. Laughing at her antics, he swung her up into his arms and walked with long strides to the staircase. He took the steps two at a time easily, even with her added weight.

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"Come see the king-sized bed I have in my bedroom, my anisa. I think you will love it as much as I do. Very, very much so." **** Kaket stepped off the plane and covered her eyes with sunglasses. Ignoring the humans that surrounded her and most especially their smell, she strutted on high heels through the terminal. Once outside, she spied a cab parked by the curb. She smiled. The gods and goddesses were with her. If they hadn't been, she'd still be stuck in that nasty zoo back in America. To find a human female who wore her size clothing and with enough money for an airfare ticket to South Africa had been providence. She had also provided Kaket with a ready meal, though there wasn't enough flesh covering her bones. Why human females thought to starve themselves, all for the sake of being thin, Kaket would never understand. She walked quickly over to the cab. Just as she grabbed for the door handle, a dark-skinned human male in a business suit attempted to grab it first. Staring into his eyes, she morphed her face slightly as she yanked off her sunglasses. Teeth became fangs and features stretched into lion ones. She snarled. With fear in his eyes and the stink from wetting his pants permeating the air, the man ran off. Her face back to its human shape, she opened the door and climbed in. The cabbie, an Indian, asked in a musical voice, "What is your destination, lady?" "Out of town. Toward the Bushveld." He turned his head. "Oh, you have a house out there?" Kaket sat back. "Yes, yes, whatever. Just drive and I will tell you when to stop." "No luggage, lady?" "No, where I am going I won't have need of extra clothing or anything else."

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The man stared at her with his dark eyes, a frown lining his forehead. She leaned forward, lifting an edge of her lip in a parody of a lion, baring fang. "Do you like what you see, little man?" He gulped and turned back around. "Oh no, lady, I not be staring at you. I drive." The cab roared to life and he raced away. Kaket sat back and closed her eyes. Her stomach rumbled. Though she had a meal on the plane, her stomach wanted something more substantial. She wanted to hunt. She opened one eye and started at the back of the cabby's head. Time enough later at the end of the ride to do just that and make her stomach happy in the bargain. She closed the eye. **** Ramses watched Shana sleep. He smiled. Reaching out a hand, he tucked an errant curl behind her ear. She sighed and rolled over onto her side. The sheet slid down, revealing an enticing amount of bare skin, especially a sweetly puckered nipple. His grin grew wider. Stretching out, he flipped the sheet back and swung his legs off the mattress. He had tired Shana out enough for a while. Glancing down at his aroused state, he acknowledged that maybe a cold shower, and then a good run in his lion form might relieve matters. If not, he might crawl back into bed and give Shana another hard ride. The cold shower didn't do much so, shifting into the lion, Ramses slipped out the back door and began running. As his paws covered mile after mile of ground he felt like he was fleeing his arousal. Something that was almost impossible to do. To take his mind off it he stalked a herd of wildebeests as the shadows of early evening lengthened. The sun was slowly going down, painting the sky with pink and orange colors as the night peeked on the savanna. During much cooler time of day, the predators

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began to come out, searching for prey. Ramses loved these times, loved the hunt and most especially taking down his prey with fang and claw. It was when his beast magic rose fully inside him. Taking down one large buck, he slashed his claws into its back, breaking it. The golden glow enveloping him, he looked toward the sky and roared. A pride of other lions nearby joined him, serenading. **** "Stop here," said Kaket, opening her eyes. The cabby turned off the engine. Not even looking back or turning around, he asked, "Here, lady? It is the middle of nowhere." She smiled. "I know." Kaket began her metamorphosis, the golden glow blazing like a sun all around her body. Her clothes ripped as her shape changed. Too late, the cabby glanced back over his shoulder and saw the glowing eyes of the beast in the back seat. He tried to get out of his cab, but the lioness raked out a paw and yanked him into the back seat with her. He screamed as she sank her fangs into his neck. Outside the night had taken over. A full moon rose high in the sky, soaring like a witch on her broomstick. **** Satisfied, his belly full, Ramses left what remained of the wildebeest for the other lions and padded home. Lifting his nose to the night air, he took in all manners of scents, enjoying them. To his right he found a herd of elephants sharing the watering hole with some giraffe. To his left he not only smelled but heard the herds of zebra, wildebeest, and gazelle that stirred restlessly at his passing. He paused, as the odor of hyenas joined them. They were hunting, hoping for the luck he had earlier. He thought of Shana and he started loping, wanting to get home to her. ****

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Shana awoke. Smiling, her eyes still half closed, she reached over to Ramses' side. Her hand felt nothing. She reached over and clicked on the lamp on her side, and sat up. He was gone. Thinking that maybe he was showering, but when she could hear nothing coming from the bathroom, she doubted it. A quick check in there proved to her that he wasn't in there. She threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and ran barefooted downstairs. He wasn't anywhere in the house. A crash came from outside. "Ramses?" Not taking time to slip on some shoes, she unlocked the back door and stepped out. The door closed gently behind her. It was night time and cooler. She swept her gaze up and saw the moon. Its full, fat face shone with unnatural brilliance, its moonbeams silvering the area and the eyes of the lion that stood only a few feet away from her. No, not a lion. It didn't have a mane. Lioness. The moonbeams added a silver luster to the golden fur and a strange glow to the eyes. The animal stood still like a statue, its gaze locked on her. Not one roar, or any sound came from it. Frightened, Shana stepped back, reaching her hand back to grab the doorknob. The door was locked. Shit! She saw the lioness hadn't moved. Hoping that was a good thing, she started again searching for Ramses, as either human or lion. It didn't matter, though maybe the lion would be a better form to be using right now. Until he came home, the best thing might be for her to remain motionless. Less attention to provoke the lioness to attack. Sure, who are you kidding?

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Glancing back at the lioness, she saw that it was moving toward her. Yeah, the motionless act apparently didn't work. Locked out of her house with a lioness stalking her, equaled a not so good situation. Probably was a good time to run. She bolted to the left. Hearing the grunts of the predator behind her, she ran as fast as she could. Rocks and other sharp things hurt the bottom of her feet but she didn't stop. She swore that the sounds of the stalking animal were gaining. But she didn't dare look back to check. Just run, she thought. Where's Ramses? A loud roar came out of the night. Shana tripped and fell flat on her face. Ignoring the pain, she quickly flipped onto her back. Just in time to watch the lioness move above her, raising a clawed paw. Like a blur, something larger slammed into it, knocking it several feet away. Shana crawled to her knees and saw a lion standing over the downed female. Ramses! Go, my anisa. Let me take care of this lioness. Jumping to her feet, she limped back to the house. Strangely enough, the door was unlocked and she ran inside, slamming it behind her. **** Ramses snarled. Kaket. I see you escaped. And I would have had your female for dinner, if you hadn't interfered, oh mighty king. The golden glow came over Ramses, and when gone, he stood there, naked. "Change, bitch," he commanded. The same glow misted over her and when it vanished, Kaket lay there, supine and nude. A wicked grin on her lips, she placed one hand on a breast and slipped the other down to dip beneath the bush that hid her feminine goodies. She pinched and stroked her nipples while

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driving a couple fingers inside her pussy. She began to vigorously fuck herself. Sounds issued from her mouth, a cross between moans and growls. Her lust out of control, she no longer seemed to notice if Ramses still watched. Apparently she didn't care, though the show was all for him, at least it began that way. As she pinched her nipples alternately, and used her stand-in digits for a cock pounding in and out, her growls became roars. "Knock it off, Kaket." Ignoring him, in rampant need, she brought herself over the edge and screamed. Recovering, she brought her dripping wet fingers to her mouth to suck on them. She looked up at Ramses, her fingertips inches from her mouth. Offering them, she said, "Want a taste? They're finger licking good." He snorted. "If I did, I can get plenty from my anisa." Her eyes narrowing with hate, she suckled on her fingers. "Human pussy. You want to fuck it now, but what happens when you tire of her? Why not have both of us? You know, double the pleasure, double the fun." "Get up." She rose to her feet and dusted the dirt off her back and buttocks. "You're no fun. Most men fantasize about having two women." "You know when one of our kind takes a soul mate, there's no other." "You're a lion, head of our pride, and normal lions have more than one female." She pressed her body against his, reaching down to touch him. With a growl, he pulled away. "Enough! I love my anisa." Though it was dark Ramses could see how her eyes darkened, hate clearly their message.

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"I will tear your anisa's flesh from her bones, swallowing every piece. And then I will kill you, oh mighty king. If you think it's just me, think again. I know of others apart of our pride who wish you dead too. Then we can have free reign to hunt the humans as our ancestors did centuries ago." Realizing what she was about to do, Ramses uttered the words that would magick him into his other form. But Kaket was quicker and she changed, retreating. Her tail held high in the air as an insult, with her beast magic she disappeared. Pacing back and forth, he roared with frustration and anger. Calling on the magic, he shifted and ran for the house. He found Shana hiding in the bedroom, a heavy statue clutched in her hands. When she saw him, she came out from hiding in the closet. Putting down the statue, she ran into his arms. "Ramses," she cried out. "I heard no sounds outside and worried that maybe that meant she'd killed you." He stroked her hair and nuzzled her cheek. "No, Kaket did not harm me." She drew back and stared into his eyes. "I thought you had gotten rid of her." "Remember she too has the beast magic. What I did was only a temporary solution." Walking into the bathroom alone, Ramses turned the faucets on for a shower. He stepped inside and washed himself, not giving her any further answers, not until he was completely clean again. Besides, this gave him time to think, to decide what to do about Kaket. There was no question about what must be done. His mate's life was at stake. Turning off the water, he grabbed a towel and dried off. "Follow me."

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He entered the bedroom and dug out some clothes from the closet to quickly dress. Finishing, he sat on the edge of the bed. "I am going to call for help from the pride." She frowned. "Help? Are you going to call them on the phone then? I didn't see one around here." He shook his head. "No, I will contact the others by using magick." He added under his breath, "At least those who are with me." He took into cautious account what Kaket said about others not happy with him being head of the pride. "Now, go downstairs and make sure all doors and windows down there are locked tight. Make enough food, for tonight there'll be others joining us." Mumbling about alpha males and their orders, she left the room and headed downstairs. Ramses closed his eyes and muttered a chant in his head. The chant grew, filling his head like a burning light behind his eyes. Using telepathy, he called to his pride to come to him, no matter what they were doing at that moment or where they were. Tupac, Kimoni, Muzi, Kay'n, Ona, Izeghe, Lulu, Zari and Tau, come. Zwanga, Eze, Tutu, Mulalo, come. I need your help—we need to decide about Kaket, for it is time to do something about her. Nothing more could be done until he saw who came at his summoning. He opened his eyes and stood up. His role as leader took over as he left the bedroom and headed downstairs. **** Kaket stared at the house and smiled. Ramses had called out to the pride. But not all would help him. With a laugh, she turned around and went into the arms of a tall, tanned man with long black hair and black eyes. Naked as she, he captured her lips and kissed her. Another nude man joined them, sandwiching her between him and the first one. He had long, curly golden hair and was shorter,

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stockier, but was as equally as strong as the taller man. He pushed aside Kaket's hair and licked the back of her neck. Mulalo and Tutu felt good, but Kaket stopped them long enough to hold out a hand to another. A lithe female form withdrew from the shadows and joined the threesome. It was Zari. Her name meant golden and she definitely was, from her long hair to her radiant skin. Amidst laughter, the two males and two females fell upon the grass and each other. It would have to be a quickie for soon the others would be arriving.

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Chapter Four Shana saw that Ramses seemed uneasy. He lifted up the edge of the window shutters and kept peering out into night. Then he dropped it back down. As if sensing the movement even before her hand touched his shoulder, he spun around and gathered her into the circle of his arms. He nuzzled her neck, taking deep breaths. "You smell so sweet. So seductive like an African evening on the veldt." "What's bothering you, Ramses?" He smiled down at her and gave a light laugh. "Bothering? Nothing bothers me. Nothing at all." She stroked the side of his face and shook her head. "We haven't been together all that long but it seems as if I've known you all my life. Something is bothering you." "I cannot hide anything from you, can I? I keep feeling that something is terribly wrong. But when I look out through the window I see nothing. And yet, I know Kaket is out there, knowing I summoned the pride. I can smell her. That worries me." "But she is one of you. And what about the rest of your pride?" "Means nothing. I suspect that some of my people have defected to her views of how the pride should rule. That they too feel as she does, that humans are nothing more than prey to be hunted and killed. To be eaten." He withdrew his hold on her and turned back to the window. Not lifting the shutter to look out, he just stood there. She saw a range of emotions flittered across his face.

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"I may have to do what my grandfather outlawed. Kill fellow shapeshifters." He looked at her and she saw sadness in his eyes. "For centuries, the practice was if one goes against the pride, that one was set upon and torn to pieces. Eaten, even. My grandfather, who I was named after, passed a set of laws forcing us to become more civilized. One was to never kill another shapeshifter, especially werelions. His solution was instead for the pride to pass punishment, to gather together and hold court against the accused. If it is judged necessary, that member is banished, never to be allowed to return. It was thought that being ostracized worked just as well as being put to death. Being without a pride is terribly lonely for a shifter. Many do not survive after banishment." "But if they mate with a human and have children, or if they become part of another pride, then they wouldn't be alone." He shook his head. "Banishment is known to all once it happens. The convicted shifter cannot find a home, anywhere, among other shifters. And if the shifter has been feeding off humans, do you think they would then demean themselves to mate with one, so not to be alone? No, they would not. Banishment is hell. The longest one lived ten years, finally, he killed himself." "Maybe she'll decide to seek forgiveness..." "No, anisa, she will not. I suspect she has been hunting and eating humans for a while now. I just looked the other way, hoping she would come around. She will not. Today has proven it. I am not sure she is even a little mad already. It does not matter—the pride cannot suffer a maneater in its midst. And if I am right, she is not alone. That means there are others who must be punished, too." Ramses brushed his long hair back from his face. "There will be a war. The death penalty will be reinstated, something I do not wish for."

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"Oh, God," whispered Shana as she went to the table and sank on a chair. "Maybe I should leave, go back home." He stalked her, and grabbing her by the shoulders, picked her up. Thrusting his face inches from hers, he snarled. "Never! We are mated. Do you think she will let you go and all would be as before? No, she would follow you back over the Great Water and stalk you, kill you. There would be no question of me not killing her then." He captured her lips and drank from them. Pulling back, he murmured, "I will not give you up. You are my heart and soul. You are my anisa." Ramses hugged her. "If you died, I would die. Without you there is nothing. It would be as if I had been banished from my pride." It filled Shana with joy to hear his words, of how much she meant to him. But it frightened her, too. He was basically saying she held his life in her hands, and she wasn't sure if she could measure up to such high standards. "You do, anisa. You measure the worth of my love for you." Muffled against his chest, she sighed. "I wish you wouldn't do that." "Do what? Oh, know your thoughts. But we are soul mates. Only those who truly belong to each other can do this. I will always know what you are thinking, anisa. Always." Shana stared up into his eyes. "Oh God, I love you so. I couldn't bear to be parted from you too, but if it would stop what is about to happen, I would do it in a heartbeat. For you." He bent his head lower and just as she thought he was going to kiss her again he halted. Freeing her, he lifted his head and sniffed. "They're here."

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She gathered her composure. "Your pride." "Yes." He bounded away and she followed in his wake, only much more slowly. She felt many different things. Fear of the pride. Fear of what they would think of her. They had to blame her for this mess. For the upcoming war. Even though she loved Ramses, she still realized how all alone she really was, even with him behind her. She now knew how an astronaut would feel on an alien world, surrounded by aliens. No matter how human they looked in their human bodies, the werelions still acted like lions in minds and hearts. Just like Ramses. Stepping out of the kitchen, she entered the living room and saw ten men and women, all sprawled out on the couch, chair and the floor. There was a couple, a man and woman, who appeared to be about forty at the most. Every one looked healthy and strong. Like Ramses and Kaket. Catching Ramses' eye, she noticed he didn't look happy. He began introducing the others. "This is Tupac, Kimoni, Muzi, Kay'n, Ona, Izeghe, Lulu, Tau, Zwanga, and Eze. Tupac and Ona are the pride's elders, and my uncle and aunt. Eze is their daughter, my cousin." Seeing her about to say something he cut her off. "Yes, my uncle and aunt are shapeshifters but soul mates, too. Their Dreaming foretold of their union. Tupac found Ona in a circus in Romania. He saved her and they mated with each other." "Hello," acknowledged Shana. "I am sorry to be the cause of all this trouble." Ona got off the couch and came over to her. She took Shana by her hands and smiled. "There is no trouble. Ramses did right by following tradition. He listened to the Dreaming. He could not ignore it, just as my Tupac could not ignore his when it called to him, told him where I was." She smiled back over her shoulder at her mate.

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"Ramses is our leader. If it be his fate to mate with a human, so be it. That has always been the way of werekind, for centuries. The Dreaming is all part of the beast magic. To not listen to it is to cut off our arms and legs, rip out our hearts. Welcome to the pride, niece." She kissed Shana on the cheek, and then relinquished her to go sit with her mate again. Ramses' voice sounded grim. "Unfortunately, it is just as I thought. Three members of my pride do not agree with me and have joined with Kaket. Mulalo, Tutu, and a young werelioness, Zari, did not answer the call. Lulu said that she overheard them talking, that they were going to be with Kaket." He rubbed his face in weariness. "There will be war." Shana clutched at his arm. "All because of me." Tupac gave a small smile. "It was never just about you. Kaket has been heading toward this for a long time. She's like her mother. I think insanity runs in the bloodline. You ever heard of the human term, 'put down a mad dog'? Well, this looks like the only thing we can do." Shana felt like throwing up. She dropped her hand from Ramses' arm and grabbed herself around the belly. The feeling of being among aliens slammed into her full force. Glancing up, she looked into Ramses' face. Alien or not, she loved him. Anisa, do not do this to yourself. I love you. She felt numb. "Do what you have to do. I'm going to bed." Shana moved away, climbing the stairs and heading for the bedroom. Ignoring his calls, she even tried to blank out his voice in her head. However, she did catch part of what Tupac said, telling him to let her go, that they needed to talk. A few hours later Shana sat up in bed, unsure. Still dressed, except for her shoes, she saw that the sheet and blanket lay rumpled on the floor. The room was dark and a

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glance at the window showed her it was still night time. Her mouth felt icky and she got up, shuffling to the bathroom. After she rinsed out her mouth, she turned the light on and stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Her face was pale like a ghost and she saw dark circles under her eyes. Obviously, her sleep hadn't done much good. Turning the faucets, she splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would help. It didn't. Shutting off the water, she left the bathroom, switching the light off as she did. She didn't see the large shadow that waited for her, not until it was too late. Her scream was cut off by a man's hand. Cuddled tightly against a muscular frame, a low voice whispered into her ear. "Keep still or I'll tear your throat out," it cautioned. "Do you understand?" She nodded. She understood only too well. The unknown man pressed her to his naked chest and she realized that he was completely nude. He smelled of earth, sweat, sex and another odor she couldn't put her finger on, not until she knew where she had smelled it before. Ramses. It must be an odor particular to the shapeshifters. That meant, along with his nudity, her abductor was one too. Suddenly, she was scared, more scared than before. She just hoped that connection between her and Ramses worked. Otherwise, she may not live to see the dawn. Her abductor dragged her over to the open window. A slight breeze filtered in, flapping the curtains like a pair of bird's wings. He slipped a leg over the sill, then the other, lifting her to sit on his lap. She felt his hardened organ, as if he was getting off on taking her from right under Ramses' nose.

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He sniffed her, then whispered into her ear. "Mmmmmm...you smell so delicious. Maybe Kaket will let me fuck you before we kill you and eat you. I always love to play with my dinner." He laughed at his sick joke. Shana broke her mouth free of his hand. "I hope Ramses rips off your manhood, or lionhood, whatever you want to call it, and swallows it whole." "Ah, a bloodthirsty bitch. I'm not just going to fuck you; I'm going to fuck you in the ass. Then shove my cock down your throat and make you choke on it." He slapped his hand back over her mouth and climbed down the side of the house with her tucked under his arm like a package. She squirmed and fought, but couldn't get free of his strong hold. Once on the ground, a golden glow enveloped them both, and when it was gone, she saw a lion with not much of a mane standing over her, his paw holding her down. Grabbing her by her left arm with his jaws, he took off. Her mouth free, she screamed, not only for help, but from the agony of his fangs digging into her flesh as he bodily dragged her along. Not only did his fangs cause her agony, but also the ground, rocks, and other things added to it. She knew she would have scratches and abrasions when they reached their destination. Several roars filled the night air. Ramses. He and the others must be giving chase. The werelion kept loping, not caring how much harm he did to her. Finally, he slowed down and hauled her into a cave. Somehow, they had reached the mountains. With incredible strength, he heaved her against the cave wall and shifted under the golden glow he called up. The glow revealed to her that others surrounded her. One face she recognized. Kaket's. Unable to hold out, she slipped into oblivion. Along with the roar of unconsciousness, she could hear Kaket's wicked laughter.

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Shana regained consciousness. Her mouth felt like cotton had been stuffed into it, her eyes ached and her entire body burned like fire. Everything hurt. Badly. If someone agreed to put her out of her misery, she'd beg for it. But then, she remembered feeling this much pain meant still being alive. For now, anyway. She helped herself into a sitting position. Leaning back against the cave wall, she saw a fire had been lit nearby. Her left arm hurt and looking down, she saw that it bled. "I see our prisoner is awake." Barely able to move her head from the pain, she managed to turn to the voice. Kaket stood next to her, arrogance evident in her eyes and in the way she stood, a hand on her hip. Naked, too. Three others drifted out of the shadows and Shana noticed that they also were naked. The one woman went to nuzzle Kaket's cheek. Kaket kissed her, pulling the younger woman into her embrace and kneaded her ass cheeks. Still locked in the woman's embrace, she looked down at Shana. "This nubile, young thing is Zari. Your abductor is Tutu and the other is Mulalo." The werelion who had stolen her from Ramses squatted down on his haunches in front of her and grinned. Large, sharp fangs glinted in his mouth. "You smelled delicious before, human; the blood on you makes you smell even more divine." He laughed and leaned over, licking some of the blood from her scratched cheek. "Mmmmm...tasty." "Not yet, Tutu," said Kaket, smacking his head. "When the time is right, I'll give her to you and Mulalo to play with. I want Ramses to see you both taking her, filling her full of your semen before they die together." The other man standing nearby giggled. "Tutu, you get the pussy, I get the mouth or ass."

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Tutu rose to his feet and stared down at her. "No. I might want her ass first." He turned and glared at Mulalo. "Understood." Shana could hear the threat in his voice, like a lion taking on another for a gazelle. She shivered. If Ramses couldn't save her, or he was killed, she promised herself she would find the means to kill herself. She wouldn't let those two touch her. Already, just from the thought of them touching her, she felt slimy, as if she had rolled in filth. Her stomach roiled, and she fought to keep from throwing up and not only soiling, but embarrassing herself in the bargain. A glance toward the cave's entrance and she saw fingers of dawn stretching across the cave floor. Kaket tensed and looked toward the entrance. "The mighty king is here," she mocked. Tutu grinned and slapped Mulalo on the back. Zari followed Kaket as both stepped out into the sunshine. The men stayed, sliding down on each side of Shana to stare hungrily at her. She didn't know if it was hunger for sex or for food. She didn't care for either one.

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Chapter Five Ramses stood at the head of the pride. In lion form, they stood like a small army. He looked magnificent as the sun's beams lit up his mane and gave a glow to his golden fur. His eyes shone with unnatural brilliance, like topazes. Kaket also noticed that the lions didn't come alone. A black panther snarled and trotted to join side-by-side with Ramses. Montsho. She saw several leopards behind the lions, most in nearby trees. Like real leopards, they looked like harmless pussycats—deceptive, as they could attack all of a sudden and tear out your throat. Other werekind joined them. Hyenas, a couple crocodiles, and four pythons. It looked as if she and her small pride were outnumbered. Like the wereleopards, appearances could be deceiving. With a grin, she gave a roar. The sound echoed in the air. Other lions and lionesses came out of the bush, surrounding the area. Many, many more than what Ramses brought. She couldn't wait to tear out Ramses' throat and drink his blood. "It seems, Ramses," she sneered, "that the battle is over before it began. The other werelions are tired of the ways your grandfather inflicted on us." "No, Kaket, we are not here to join you," broke in one large, older lion with a graying mane. "We held council last night with his pride and all voted to destroy you and those who still wish to stand with you. If we had chosen to banish you, you and your pride would still be a thorn in

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our sides, trying to poison the land. We cannot have that. Your madness will stain our beast magic. And not just us, but other werekind agrees as well, as you can see by those that came in answer to Ramses' call." "Bastards!" She glared at Ramses. "I have your human whore, Ramses. Mulalo and Tutu are raping her as we speak. By the time you get pass me and Zari, they would have torn her throat out and began to feed upon her flesh." **** Both Zari and she shifted, letting their magic change them. The others waited, but Ramses leaped at both lionesses. Zari was easy to kill, as with one swift swipe of his claws, he dug them into her belly and ripped it apart. Crying out, she fell onto her side as her intestines tumbled out onto the dirt. Raging with fury, Kaket jumped onto Ramses' back, raking his sides with her claws. Screeching, she sank her fangs into the back of his neck under his thick mane. Bucking like a rodeo bronco, Ramses tried to fling her off. The maddened female maintained her hold and hung on like a bulldog, worrying her fangs deeper into his flesh. He had no doubt that she wanted to kill him, for many things, but now also for killing her lover, Zari. Feeling something wet from the back of his neck, he knew if he didn't get her off, the bitch just might get her wish of his demise. The only reason no one else helped was because he had demanded her death be by his claws and no other. Finally rearing up onto his hind legs, he managed to reach a paw behind and hook the bitch by her snout, yanking her off him. He flung her to the ground, brutally. She landed awkwardly on her back, and he jumped onto her quickly, knocking the breath from her lungs. He swore he heard something break. Lying there, Kaket glared up at him, still defiant. Blood trickled out of her maw.

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"Oh, mighty king," she said with s snicker. "This defeat doesn't matter, for I still win. While you struggled so long to fight me off your back, Mulalo and Tutu enjoyed your human female, in more ways than one." He watched as the light went out in her eyes and her head dropped to one side. Kaket was dead. Frightened, Ramses made for the cave, knowing that even now it might be too late to save his anisa. But he planned to make Mulalo's and Tutu's last hour on Earth a hellish one. Afterward, he would bury his mate. Then making sure a new succession of leadership for the pride was in place, he would leave until the craze of being prideless and without her drove him to kill himself. He snuck into the cave and using his night vision, entered it completely silent. He padded on rocky ground, sniffing the air. He discovered three distinct smells, and with a sigh of relief as he searched her thoughts, knew his mate still lived. Ramses found her backed up against the cave wall, brandishing a heavy stick she had found somewhere. Both werelions stalked her as lions might and not men. He roared. The sound echoed in the cave. Both paused and stared back at him. He saw the fear in their eyes and guffawed. Good. Let them know he brought them death. For betrayal of the pride, and most of all, for daring to lay one paw on his anisa. Seeing all the teeth marks, scratches and abrasion on her skin, he growled. He would make the one who did that to his Shana suffer the longest. Come at me, cubs. Or are you both too chicken to take on the king? They rushed him, roaring. Hurting like hell from his battle with Kaket, he fought them with every last ounce of remaining strength, knowing his mate watched. For her sake, he drew on all his reserves of magic and fought like the mighty king he felt he was right then. He remembered

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what the Dreaming foretold and it never lied. For in it, he had grown old with her, their sons and daughters and grandchildren surrounding them. No, he couldn't, no, mustn't die. He took Mulalo's life first. With a hard shove, he sent the lion into the wall, slamming the head against the hard rock. Cracking like an egg, the lion slid to the ground, dead. Then he faced Tutu and from the stink of fear rising off the younger lion, knew this was the one who hurt his mate. Suddenly, Tutu stilled and lay down, baring his belly. Go ahead, Ramses, tear out my stomach. It'll be on your head for the rest of your life that you slew me. Ramses grinned. So be it. I can handle that. He jumped the traitor, and with a swift strike used his claws to disembowel the werelion. Not wasting any more precious time, he padded over to Shana and butted her with his big head. Then he shifted back to his man form and slinging her up into his arms, carried her out of the cave. Outside, a massive cheer resounded as one by one the shifters changed to human form. Ramses could not have cared less as he took Shana's lips with his and drank of her sweetness.

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Epilogue Ramses held his wife by her shoulders as she screamed and pushed. Their child was about to be born. He decided they would be satisfied with their first born, and let Shana have no more children, despite the Dreaming. If they all caused her so much pain, he could live with just one. The gender was of no matter. Male or female, this was it. A wail reached his ears and the doctor, a werehyena, cleaned the baby and brought it to its mother's arms. He bowed his head to Ramses. "A son." The nurse called to him. "Doctor, another head is peeping out." The doctor rushed back to where Shana's legs were propped up and caught something in his arms. A couple of minutes later, he brought another crying baby, this time putting it in Ramses' arms. "Your daughter." Ramses laughed, upsetting his daughter even more. "Good, no more children. We have a son and a daughter. No more pain for my anisa." Gazing with rapture into her son's big eyes, Shana said, "Oh no, I want four more. Isn't he adorable?" "I really don't think..." Ramses paused as he looked down at his daughter. She had stopped crying and seemed as if she was gazing up at her father with interest. Then she opened her mouth and gave a tiny growl. A golden glow surrounded her for a second, and then dissipated leaving a gurgling, happy baby.

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Maybe another child wouldn't hurt.

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Cat's Claw Jude Mason

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Also by Jude Mason An Acquired Taste Pink Ribbon Scorpio Tattoo Stage Fright Jesse's Homecoming "Of Death and Desire" from 413 Remembrance Lane Amber's Toy Cat's Claw Yes Ma'am (print collection) "Flaming Rescue" from Coming Together Under Fire Shoon Joining

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Chapter One "What do you mean, he doesn't have a phone? Everyone in this day and age has a phone for Christ sakes." The words exploded from Morgan's mouth before she could stop them. Standing with her hands planted firmly on the scarred, wooden countertop of the town's General Store, she scowled at the man in front of her. The ancient clerk stared back at her, a look of total disregard for her dilemma on his wizened old face, as if he didn't have a care in the world and couldn't have cared less that she was upset. Why would he care that she had to take time off from her busy accounting job? What would he care that her clients were waiting for her, chomping at the bit for her to get their month ends done? After all, it wasn't like he was the one who didn't have a phone. The old man was delicate, small boned, and shorter than her five foot four inches. He acted as if he knew something she didn't, which under the circumstances, he probably did. He nudged his large, round, silver-rimmed spectacles a little higher on his nose and blinked, giving himself the look of a wise owl. It wouldn't have surprised her if he'd pursed his skinny old man lips and said, "Who." Instead, he squared his narrow shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. "Ms. Field, Joshua Lansing has no phone. He never has. He also has no electricity, and no running water, unless he's put it in himself." Morgan tossed her hands in the air. "Great, I'm going to visit a throwback to the eighteenth century. Is there at

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least a road to his…uh, house? Tell me, he does live in a house at least, right?" She cocked her head, and for a moment, wondered what she'd gotten herself into. Six months ago, when she'd agreed to be long-time friend Frank Lansing's executor, she had no idea that he was ill, or that he was going to die in a matter of weeks. A tumor, the doctors had told her—a tumor that had appeared suddenly and grown rampantly, giving them no time to find a treatment that would do any good. Frank died peacefully, thank heaven, but he'd left her holding the proverbial bag. He also had money, bags of it. And, up until two days ago, she'd thought he was alone in the world. All she'd have to do was pay off his debts and take care of where he wanted the remainder of his assets to go. He never told her he had a son, or that he planned to leave it all to him. "Yes, Joshua lives in a house, and there's a road that goes to it, or very close to it," answered the annoyingly civil clerk. "He doesn't have a car, though, so the last mile or so you'll have to walk down a path he's made to the house." He smiled at her then, and she wanted to slap him. Walk—in these shoes—through the bush? Morgan had dressed for business, not a hike in the woods. The light chocolate colored skirt and matching jacket hugged her curves beautifully, the bright orange tank top showed off both her lightly tanned flesh as well as a hint of cleavage. Her shoes, although practical for office wear, with a heel that was just over two inches high, would be ankle breakers if she had to go tramping though the forest—which was exactly what it looked like she'd be doing. Her quick visit to tactfully dish out the bad news was rapidly turning into a major event in her life. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. "Okay," she said in as even a voice as she could manage. After all, it wasn't the clerk's fault that Joshua lived like a pioneer. Under other

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circumstances, she might have actually enjoyed a walk in the forest. Tossing her long, nearly white hair over her shoulder, she said, "I'm sorry for being so snarky. I just wasn't expecting this." She tried on a smile and found that it felt good. The elderly man returned it. "No problem, little lady," he said, coming around the counter. Taking her by the arm, he guided her to the large window at the front of the shop and peered up the street. "See that billboard just after the Lazy Diner?" He glanced at her, and she nodded. "Well, keep going up that road until you come to a huge boulder on the left. It's got graffiti from the kids, you can't miss it." He stood aside to let her see where he was pointing; when she again nodded, he went on. "Keep going for about another hundred feet or so. On the same side as the big rock, you'll see a sign with a picture of a wolf on it, that'll be Joshua's place." He took her by the arm again and guided her slowly towards the door. He was surprisingly strong for an old fellow, so when he opened the door and ushered her out into the fading sunlight, she let herself be led. "There's a place you can park your car where it won't be seen. We might be in the back country, but kids being kids, sometimes get into trouble if the temptation's is starin' them in the face." He walked her right to her car, even opened the door for her—the perfect gentleman. She settled into the silver-gray Mustang's comfort and dug the key out of her purse. "Thanks for your help," she said, as she started the engine. The purr of the motor turned into a rumble of power when she revved it up. "Is there some kind of hotel or motel in town?" "Yep, we have a motel." He nodded in the opposite direction from the one she'd be traveling in and said, "It's small, only four units, but it's clean and won't break your wallet. Sleeping Pines Motel, it's right on the highway, you can't miss it."

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Pulling her door closed, she rolled down the window and leaned out. "Thanks again. You've been a huge help." She put the car in gear and pulled away. In the rearview mirror, she watched him wave, then turn and go back into his shop. It was the dinner hour, so she wasn't surprised that there were few people around as she left the tiny town of Huntsbury. When she passed the boulder the old man had told her about, the pavement ended and she found herself driving on gravel. She slowed the Mustang, not wanting to stir up any more dust than necessary. She spotted the sign just as the sun dropped behind the hills. A wolf, black and beautifully carved on what looked like the butt of an enormous Fir log, with the name Lansing painted across the lower edge. Morgan pulled into the overgrown drive, slowly easing the car ahead. It was like driving into a mottled green tunnel. The sunlight was fading fast and the shadows seemed to be reaching for her. About thirty feet into the driveway, the pathway widened out on one side. She pulled the Mustang into the little pullout that appeared to her right and rolled to a stop. She sat watching the sky darken and her apprehension grew. She'd hoped to get to Joshua's place before dark, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen and wondered if perhaps she should return to town and get a room for the night. Coming out again in the morning might be a better plan. "Come on, girl, just get moving." Pushing the door open, she grabbed the bag that held all the paperwork concerning Frank's death and climbed out. Locking the car door, she headed down the pathway. Shoulder-high salmon berry bushes leaned towards the center of the trail. Long willowy grasses brushed her calves and the taller Maple trees with their large leaves hurried the path into darkness half an hour earlier than the open roadway she'd just left. An abundance of rotting

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leaves softened each footfall and swallowed her heels at every step. Morgan tried to stay in the middle of the pathway as she walked. A mile, the old man had said. She shivered. Crickets chirped from somewhere to her left. The silence behind that soft chirp was deeper, more welcoming than she remembered, which eased her anxiety. Even the ominous shadows somehow seemed soft and warm. The evening was warm, her jacket stifling. After only a couple of hundred feet, she slipped it off and draped it over her arm. Tiny biting insects buzzed around her, but for some reason didn't land or bite. The meandering twists and turns in the path were like a snake coiling its way around large rocks or the trunks of trees. She smelled Cedar, and stopped for a moment. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the tangy sweetness of it. Her heels sank into soft loam and stuck. She cursed when her foot slid free of its shoe. "Damn!" She hopped on one foot, but it was no use, she had to put it down to free her shoe. The soft ground was cool against her sole as she bent and pulled the offending shoe out of its trap. To her left, something snarled. Morgan froze. She wanted to scream, but her lungs were as frozen as the rest of her. Only her eyes moved. Frantically searching the dark underbrush, afraid she'd see what made the noise—more afraid that she wouldn't—that whatever it was, would simply attack. Movement—the soft sound of leaves or branches being moved aside grew louder—closer. Breathing—raspy, harsh, came from close by. She inhaled, but not to scream, instead to flee. Shoe in one hand, her bag and jacket clasped firmly in the other; she raced flat out down the path. Branches tore at her shoulders and arms but didn't slow her. The long grass fought to trip her, grabbing at her legs, her ankles. Beside her just out of sight, she heard heavy breathing and

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branches breaking as something paced her. Adrenaline surged through her. Desperately, she increased her speed. Finally, when she was sure her heart was going to burst, she saw light through the trees ahead. With newfound strength, she ran towards it. Coming around a bend, she spotted a cabin. In the blink of an eye, she identified the beauty of a fair-sized cabin, nestled in amongst the evergreens. A window to the right of the door spilled light onto the lush grass, beckoned her. Joshua's, it had to be. She skidded to a stop at the door, and immediately banged her forgotten shoe against the rough wood. Nothing happened, no answer, no noise from inside, nothing. Morgan's anxiety grew. What if Joshua wasn't home? What if whatever had snarled and paced her attacked? She looked over her shoulder seeking the comfort of the moon. She saw it, just peeking from behind a tall Cedar. Its presence eased her and she took a deep, shuddering breath. She dropped her shoe and pounded on the door with her fist. Still nothing. She turned, surveying the brush near the cabin and peered into the darker shadows beneath the trees. The night was silent again. She opened her mouth and cocked her head, listening for the animal that had followed her. She was alone as far as she could tell. Sniffing, she thought she smelled feline but couldn't be sure. "Can I help you?" Spinning, Morgan dropped her bag and jacket, lashing out with a fist. She swung instinctively at the voice. Her heart raced. Adrenaline surged. As she struck out, her mind registered a male voice, deep and soft, at a height some foot above her head. Everything happened in slow motion. A large man, tall

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and incredibly muscular, stood not five feet away. He had a white towel wrapped around his lean hips that was barely long enough to be decent and threatened to fall off if he moved the wrong way or too fast. Another draped over his shoulder. Longish, dark hair clung to his skull in thick waves and curls that shone as if wet. A square jaw gave him a stern look, but his full lips and the short blunt-tipped nose softened it. He had beautifully defined cheekbones and a high forehead that was half covered by his hair. He needed a shave—that just added to his appeal. He took a step back holding his hands up, his palms facing her, protecting himself from her sudden outburst. Eyes, the color of honey, regarded her. "Whoa! Sorry I startled you. This is my place, honest." Morgan felt herself flush with embarrassment. If he'd been a step or two closer, she'd have hit him squarely in the jaw. "Joshua?" she asked tentatively, lowering her hand. "Joshua Lansing?" "Yes. But who are you? And, what are you doing out here at this time of night?" He dropped his hands and walked around her to the door. "Can we take this inside? These no-see'ums are going to eat me alive if I stand around out here much longer." Pushing the door open, he stood aside. With an obvious flair for the melodramatic, he bowed low and made a sweeping gesture with his free hand, indicating she should enter.

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Chapter Two Off balance, Morgan hesitated. Feeling a little foolish, after all this was where she'd been going, she strode through the door. The home she stepped into was like nothing she'd ever seen before. It was divided into two rooms; the room she stood in was the main one, a combination living room, kitchen and bedroom, straight ahead and to her right, she saw a partially opened door that led into a bathroom. Dark, richly oiled wood was everywhere; the floor, walls and ceiling. Even the countertops in the kitchen were a polished lighter wood, as was the headboard of the bed, which was placed at the left wall in a kind of alcove created by the bathroom wall. A large stone fireplace dominated the room. That's where the light came from that she'd seen and fled towards. Earth tones of browns, greens, and oranges made up the colors of almost everything: bedding, the cover on the single couch and chair that faced the fireplace, as well as the heavy drapes that were drawn back from the windows. "I asked who you were, lady." Joshua interrupted her silent appraisal of his domain. She looked back at him with a pang of regret. She hated being the bearer of bad news, even when she had no choice. "I'm sorry," she stammered and turned to face him. "This is amazing, your place, I mean." She did a slow spin, getting one last good look at the place and him, before breaking the news. "My name's Morgan Field. I knew your father—" "Knew?" he interrupted, frowning. "You said you knew

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him. Has something happened to my father?" "I'm sorry." She hated the quiver in her voice. At that moment, she'd have given anything to be somewhere else, have someone else break the news to this gorgeous man. Taking a deep breath, she went on before she lost her courage. "Your father passed away a week ago yesterday. I'm the executor of his will, he—" "Passed away?" He looked as if she'd punched him in the stomach. His face paled, a haunted look shadowed his eyes. "You mean he's dead? My father's dead?" "Yes," she said as softly and as gently as she knew how. His sorrow was like a blanket wrapping around not only him, but also her and the room. She dropped her bag and took a step towards him. "I'm so sorry." Before she could say anything else, Joshua staggered and looked as if he was going to collapse. She lunged forward, slipping an arm around his waist. Taking his other arm, she wrapped it around her shoulders and guided him to the large, comfortable-looking couch. The warm flesh of his hip under her palm stirred a longing she'd been trying to ignore ever since she'd first seen him. The towel did almost nothing to hide his firm body. It had been much too long since she'd had a man. Circumstances made that difficult for her at the best of times. A flash of memory, a re-occurring dream, or nightmare of passion, of tearing flesh, the taste of blood in her mouth and a craving that left her weak and trembling, all mixed together made her shudder. Determinedly pushing her desire for him aside, she focused on getting him to sit down before he fell down. It was not the time to let her own problems surface. Glancing through the nearby window she saw the soft moonlight, and felt the pang of a longing she'd kept hidden all her life. She heard a soft groan when she eased him down, and felt the muscles in his chest writhe when she pressed her palm against him. A familiar response to tension, she

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thought; inside she had a niggling glimmer of something else. "I haven't seen him for almost two years," Joshua said abruptly. As if that first confession broke the lock, the rest came tumbling out. "We disagreed about some things. Family mostly, they seemed important at the time. Funny," he looked into her eyes, and she saw the heart-wrenching pain of his loss, "it doesn't seem important now. I'd give anything to see him one last time. Tell him I loved him. Tell him that both of us were right." Joshua lurched to his feet and pushed past her, nearly knocking her over. Startled, she reached out and grabbed. The towel came away without so much as a tug. Morgan stared dumbstruck at the soft, white, slightly damp cloth in her hand, her mouth dropped open. Blinking, she glanced up at him, standing just as dumbstruck. Naked and beautiful. She blurted, "Oh my God! I—I…" Her face flashed hot with embarrassment, but she couldn't turn away, he was a magnificent animal. Only the reason for her visit made her hold the towel toward him. Under other circumstances, she was sure she'd have moved in and taken advantage of the beautiful man. Automatically he reached out, taking the towel. Instead of covering himself with it, he let it fall to the floor. She scanned him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and then back up again, taking in every detail; the light covering of hair on his legs, the small scar on the inside of his left thigh, circumcised penis that lay nestled among a soft brown mat of fur and the nearly hairless sack beneath. His chest had a light dusting of hair, a meandering treasure trail led down his stomach and stopped halfway to his navel, then resumed again below it. His nipples were small and tight. She longed to nibble her way from one to the other but dared not move. "How well did you know my father?" His question brought her attention back to his face—his golden eyes.

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"Uh, not as well as I'd have liked to," she stammered. "No wait, that's not true. I knew Frank for years, but just as friends. He took me under his wing when I left my foster parents' home. I never knew my real parents; they left me on the steps of the county orphanage when I was just over two. He was a recluse, your father I mean. I guess you knew that." Her voice had grown husky. She fought to control the need growing inside. "We shared a love of animals, of wild things in general. You know, I always felt like he wanted to tell me something, but he never got the chance. The time was never right, I suppose." She heard herself ramble. She wanted to say something; to save him the embarrassment she knew he'd feel when his mind got back up to speed. Instead, she found herself babbling, inanely, stupidly, and trying not to stare. Suddenly he looked down at himself, blushed and reached to cover his genitals. "Damn!" He turned and lunged into the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind him. Morgan didn't quite know what she should do. The moon called to her. Her insides churned with a desire that had been dormant for months, ever since she'd been caring for Joshua's father. Now, here in the wilderness with this attractive, wild man so nearby, her skin itched with a long forgotten craving to be out and free. Her dreams, always vibrant, were even more real during the full moon, they always had been. And they were something she'd always tried to suppress. No one else had dreams like hers. From behind the bathroom door, she heard movement, footsteps padding toward her, the soft hush of cloth sliding over flesh. Her senses were intensely sharp. When the door opened a few moments later, she realized just how sharp; she smelled him—the heady, male musk of him. He'd pulled on a terrycloth robe, belting it snugly around his waist. He was still flushed, yet seemed more in control of his emotions.

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"I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. I don't usually walk around like that in front of strange women." His flush deepened and he couldn't meet her eyes. "I mean, I don't—" "Joshua, please don't apologize," she reassured him and took a step away from the draw of the moon. "I came here, told you some horrible news and it understandably upset you a great deal. I'm the one who should be apologizing. I handled it badly and I'm truly sorry." To belay any further uncomfortable feelings, she went on. "Anyway, let me tell you the rest. About six months ago, he asked if I'd be the executor of his will. I didn't think anything of it and said I would. Then he got sick. Looking back, I realize he must have known and that's why he asked me. It was so fast; there wasn't any time to treat him—to cure him." "He kept secrets." Joshua's eyes had a haunted look—a sadness that touched her deeply. "We all have our secrets," she said, and bit her tongue. What was she thinking? She didn't even know this man. He cocked his head. The way he looked at her, he must have realized she'd almost said something important, something secret. He ran his fingers through his tangled mass of hair, tugging at the knots then shaking his head. Morgan had to turn away. She wanted him so badly it had become an ache in her loins that throbbed insistently. Her pulse roared in her ears. She smelled her own scent, and knew that he must be able to as well. Hopefully, he'd be too focused on what she'd told him about his father's death to recognize it for what it was. She went to the window, the one she'd seen from the path and fled toward. The sun was completely gone. The moon hung low in the sky, barely above the tips of the trees, full and round, and brighter than she thought it had any right to be. She felt its pull and wrapped her arms around herself.

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"How did he die?" Joshua had come up behind her. When he'd spoken his breath pushed into her hair. She didn't dare turn around; she'd have been in his arms. She scarcely breathed. Her attraction to him was inexplicable, yet as tangible as the heat radiating from him. "Cancer. It took over and just went wild." She shuddered at the memory of what the disease had done to the elder Lansing's body. What had surprised the doctors and her was there'd been so little pain. Frank had been so accepting of his fate. At the very end, the doctors had wanted to run tests on him. He'd refused and had instructed her, as his executor, to make sure his body was cremated immediately after his death. Carefully, she went on, "He didn't suffer but the disease did horrible things to his body. He asked me to have his remains cremated. As soon as the death certificate was signed, I made the arrangements." She turned around and had to back up a step to keep from reaching for him. Looking up into his eyes, she said softly, "He was cremated a week ago." He cringed ever so slightly but it was as if he'd spoken volumes. Nearly naked and vulnerable, she thought he was the strongest person she'd ever known. For a moment he didn't move, didn't say a word; he just soaked in the pain and anguish of what she'd said. "Thank you. You're been more than kind. My father was a lucky man to have known you." He smiled, and held his hands up as though he was fending her off. "Before we both start getting sappy here, can I get you a cup of coffee or something? A glass of wine? I have some amazing red wine, homemade." With a quick look over her shoulder at the dazzling moon, Morgan replied, "Yes, I'd like that." "Please, sit. It's a bit lumpy but not bad." He took her by the arm, guiding her to the couch he'd been sitting on just a few moments ago. She picked up her bag on the way and dropped it by her feet as she sat down. He was right, a

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bit lumpy but after the long day she'd had, plus the trauma of her race through the woods and all that had happened since her arrival, she was just glad to sit down and take a breath. Looking around the room, she noticed several pieces of artwork—paintings she found disturbing, yet amazingly beautiful. Joshua seemed to have an interest in cats. One in particular took her breath and she couldn't look away. He'd captured her dream, or nightmare; she was never sure which. It could have been her at that moment of transformation. But how? "Your wine." He stood next to her, his hand outstretched, a large crystal goblet of deep, blood red liquid held out to her. The fragrance filled her senses and in the short time it took to inhale, she felt a wave of intoxication. "I see you've spotted my artwork," Joshua said, as she took the glass from him. He turned and looked at the one that had mesmerized her. "That one I did a couple of years ago. I saw her in a dream." The painting was of a cougar that seemed to be transforming into a woman who had long, nearly white hair. The sleek, pale cat was leaping towards something just out of the picture; half of it was woman, the other half still cat. One arm, part of the torso and its ass were human, the rest was cat, except for the face, which was a mixture of both. It was incredibly beautiful. The eyes, brown flecked with gold, seemed so alive. The creature looked like it was about to leap off the canvas. Morgan took the offered glass and in a quavering voice, asked, "You did these?" She did a slow turn, really looking at the others she'd seen, yet hadn't really taken in. From her place on the couch, she couldn't see all of them very well. There were at least a dozen placed strategically around the room, all of the same subject in different

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positions or stages of transforming. "Yes, all mine. I've sold a few to local galleries mostly, but that one, I'll never sell." "It's amazing," she whispered and had to look away before she said any more. She took a sip of wine. The sharp bite of the first taste took her mind off the painting and her dream. "You've said that twice now." A tentative smile lit his face when she turned her gaze on him. His eyes were so much like hers; it was uncanny. His hair was lighter now that it had dried a little. The curly waves framing his face needed a comb. She clenched her fist; she'd almost reached out to run her fingers through his hair. Another small sip of wine did little to calm her; it did give her a few moments to think before responding. Why was she so unsettled? Joshua's smile broadened. Morgan felt her face heat up and knew she was blushing. "Yes, I guess I have. This is a lovely place you've got here, not at all what I imagined. When I spoke to the clerk at the general store in town, I got the impression this was going to be little more than a shack," she said. Inexplicably her nipples tightened. "It's not. It's breathtaking." The flush that began in her face crept lower and a flood of excitement made her shudder. Bewildered, she lowered her eyes and took another sip of wine. "Thank you. I've been here for years. It suits me. I keep adding touches that are me, I guess. A recluse, like my father, perhaps." Suddenly Morgan yawned. No matter how hard she tried to bite her tongue or clench her jaw, nothing worked and she realized how tired she was. Driving all day, then the trek through the woods had taken their toll. She needed rest. Finishing her wine, she pushed herself to her feet saying, "I'd better head back to town and get a room." As much as she dreaded the thought of a return trip to her

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car, she couldn't put it off any longer. "Nonsense," Joshua said hurriedly. "It's late and there are wild animals out there. Not to mention old lady Summers. She's the widow who runs the only motel we have in town, and she'll be in bed by the time you get there. You really don't want to wake that woman up." He shuddered and smiled. "There's plenty of room here, and I've got a screen that goes around the bed for privacy. The couch might be a little lumpy, but it's not bad to sleep on." "Are you sure?" she asked, relieved. For a moment, she was a little uneasy at the prospect of sharing a house with a strange man, even one who was the son of her old friend. Then she thought of him naked and any thoughts of leaving vanished. "Of course, I'm sure." Taking her by the arm, he led her to the queen size bed that dominated one corner of the large room. He pointed to a folding screen leaning up against the wall separating bedroom from bathroom. "See, I'll just drag that out and you'll have your privacy. I'll take the couch." Morgan relented, nodding in agreement. She was tired—bone tired. She'd also dreaded the thought of walking back through the woods to her car. "All my stuff is in the trunk of my car. My suitcase I mean." "No problem," Joshua said, going to the dresser on the opposite side of the bed. Pulling open the top drawer, he dug through the clothing until he finally presented her with a silky blue pajama shirt that looked huge. "I'm sure this'll cover you. The sheets are clean, and I'll put the screen up so you can get into the bathroom without me seeing you." It was his turn to blush. She'd seen him, all of him, yet there he was worrying about her privacy. "You've talked me into it." His being embarrassed was the clincher. Most men would have been only too glad to show off their bodies under any circumstances, but he seemed bashful, even in his own domain.

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"Good," he said, reaching for the screen. Six feet high and made of burlap sections painted in a forest motif, it would definitely ensure her privacy. He stood it along the side of the bed, made sure it curved around the footboard giving her enough room to comfortably change and have access to the bathroom. She stood holding the silky shirt, watching him, and letting her imagination wander. His movements were deft and sure, feline in their compact smoothness. When he was done, he stood looking at her, seemingly unsure of what to say. He'd taken in a lot that evening she thought; he needed some time to absorb it all. "We'll talk in the morning," she said, and eased towards the privacy of the screen. "Do you drink coffee?" "Uh, yeah," he said, heading for the small corner kitchen. "I'll set it up before I go to bed. I'm an early riser, so don't be alarmed if you hear me moving around at first light." "You won't disturb me," she reassured him. "I'm used to getting up early too. But, I'm a bitch before I have my coffee." He chuckled. "Oh good, I'll try to have it made before you bite me." The double meaning made Morgan smile. She winked at him when he looked back at her. "Maybe you'd like to be bitten." He grinned but didn't take the bait. He did, however, look at her with a longing that surprised her. She sensed there was something stopping him from going on with their banter, but couldn't decide what it was. He left her to set up the coffee machine. She took the opportunity to change into his nightshirt. The bathroom was larger then she'd thought it would be. An oversized tub filled one wall, and she wondered if he had to carry water to fill it. The toilet had its own small alcove. Large, plush green towels hung from both racks;

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one beside the tub, the other next to the sink. Above the sink she noticed a small medicine cabinet, and, for an instant, regretted not bringing her meds from the car. At certain times of the month, she usually needed help sleeping. Suddenly she yawned again and thought that for once, she might be all right. She slipped out of her skirt and blouse then noticed the full-length mirror on the wall behind the tub. She twisted, sucked in her tummy and smiled as she fantasized about Joshua watching her. Folding her skirt and blouse, she put them on top of the wicker hamper and removed the rest of her clothes. For a heart-stopping instant, she thought of just walking out naked. Her nipples tightened and she couldn't catch her breath. The attraction she had for him made her feel lightheaded. Her heart raced. Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she saw a trapped look in her eyes. Her hand rose to her chest, to her breasts and she gently cradled one. A shudder gripped her. A soft moan escaped. "I'm in bed if you want to come out now," came his deep masculine voice from the other side of the door. Morgan sighed and looked again at the blonde in the mirror. Poor thing, she thought, giving her nipple a tentative squeeze. She forced another moan out before reluctantly pulling her hand away. Slipping on his pajama shirt made her shudder anew. So soft and cool against her flesh, it was like pulling on a cool breeze. The shirttails barely covered her bottom. When she rolled up the sleeves and buttoned it, she was decent as long as she didn't plan on doing any stretching. He was taller than her by a good six inches; even so, the front split came precariously close to revealing her nakedness beneath. One last look in the mirror showed her flushed, the hard points of her nipples poking mischievously at the front of the shirt. After rinsing her face with cool water, she exited the bathroom.

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The main room was dark except for a small light he'd obviously turned on at the head of the bed. She padded around the corner and slipped beneath the covers. Instantly, she smelled him—the warm masculinity of him—inhaling greedily. "Good night, Morgan," he said from his bed on the couch. "If you wake up before I do, and the coffee addict needs her brew, just flick the button on the bottom of the machine." His chuckle made her smile. "Thanks, Joshua." She turned over, snuggling into the soft pillow. She was tired, but it had been an incredibly eventful day so she didn't drop off right away. After a few minutes, she caught the sound of sobbing coming from Joshua's direction. She rolled over, tempted to go to him, then stopped. He mourned his father, even though he'd said they had their differences, it was obvious that he'd loved the man. She thought it better to give him his privacy, she was after all a stranger, and again turned away. Sleep finally took her as his sobbing slowly faded into gentle snores.

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Chapter Three Running, she raced like the wind through the underbrush. It was dark and she ran low to the ground, the soft loam squished beneath each footfall. The heady aroma of wood-smoke and man filled her senses. There was something not right. Something bothered her; she turned away, fleeing in another direction. Trapped. Her legs were trapped—ropes of cloth wound around them—she snarled. Claws, suddenly hers, sliced downward at an awkward angle freeing her. Her throat made a rumbling sound. Odd, yet somehow she recognized it. Morgan peered around the room. The angle was all wrong. The colors dull, but the edges were so much sharper than she remembered. Bedclothes torn and ragged, hung in a twist over the edge of the bed. The screen shielded her from him. But, she smelled him. The ripe man smell she'd learned was him. Only, it was stronger, harsh in her nostrils. She sneezed. Her face was wrong. Her body was wrong. Terror gripped her. The nightmare had returned. Her meds, she should have found a way to take them. Too late. A rustling sound came from the other side of the screen and she leapt. She'd meant only to jump off the bed. In her panic, she'd cleared the screen and stood trembling in the middle of the room. To her right lay Joshua, still asleep. He'd just turned; the noise she'd heard was the covers slipping off him. Again, he was naked before her. Too lost in her terror to stop or look more closely, she searched for a way out. She had to get out. A partially opened window over the sink proved the way to her 123

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escape. Leaping, she pushed it with her shoulder and she was out, into the night. Alder and Maple, old ferns rotting while the new pushed their way out of the rich soil, all had a scent that intoxicated her. She ran on all fours, quickly becoming accustomed to the new angle she was seeing the world from. Muscles and sinew strained to gather more speed, as she sped through the forest in no particular direction. Flight—freedom—were all she craved. She ran until she came to a lakeside, and then she stopped. Panting, she gazed into the placid waters. A cat looked back at her. Not just an ordinary cat, but a cougar. She leapt away, and landed some fifteen feet from the edge of the lake. Crouched, she gazed around trying not to let panic take hold again. She looked down at her hands, paws. Her heart raced, fear, wonder, and a sense of horror filled her. Stretching her fingers out, claws extended and dug into the soft earth. The smell of soil rose. She sneezed again. Slowly, she approached the water again and gazed into its calm surface. Yes, a cougar, but such a cougar. Her fur was nearly white against the darkness around her. Her eyes were the same gold-flecked brown that she'd always had. She wriggled her nose. Whiskers twitched. She turned her head to the side, admiring the sleek lines of her face and how the fur shone in the moonlight. Lifting her chin, she noticed a fang, and yawned. The size of her incisors shocked her. They seemed huge. Sticking out her tongue, she watched as she slid it over the daggerlike teeth. Even her tongue moved differently, tending to curl back under rather than upwards. She crouched forward and tried to suck at the water, but her lips, or lack of them, made it impossible. It smelled amazing. She'd never actually smelled how

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alive water was until that moment. The muscles in her shoulders bunched as she leaned forward a little more and dipped her nose in. Cold bit into her sensitive nostrils. Pulling back, she flicked her tongue out. Automatically it curled back and she got a mouthful of frigid water. She tasted not only water, but also fish and plants, and was surprised at how easily she took to lapping her drink up. Suddenly, her body trembled. A deep rumbling noise came from her chest. She was purring. From somewhere in the distance behind her, she sensed a presence. There was life all around; mice, shrews, rabbits, all scurrying about their nights feeding; an owl peered around from the top of an old snag, bugs and beetles scuttled under leaves and branches strewn around the underbrush. She even smelled a fox, but it was an old smell. The presence she sensed was different, yet familiar. Her curiosity rose. It was the scent of a male and growing stronger. He was approaching her. She sprang from the shore and plunged into the underbrush. Her heart pounded with a new sense of wonder and excitement. Her body reacted in a much stronger way to the male animal than it ever had when she was in her human form. Would she ever return to that? For an instant, she remembered her nightmares. Relived the pain that came when she shifted from one form to the other, and how she'd tried to block it with medication she'd taken since her menses began more than a dozen years ago. How she'd feared the change, the ridicule of anyone finding out, how relationships ended because of that fear. She cowered; panic crept up on her, threatening to overwhelm her. What was coming, animal or man? Should she flee? A noise across the small clearing she'd just vacated decided for her. She peered through the darkness, trying to make out the male. His smell thrilled her. Rich, pungent, it

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drew upon her, tempting her to reveal herself. She fought and won, but the memory of dreams when she'd let the intoxication guide her, weakened her resolve. A soft mewling sound whispered from deep inside her. A cougar stepped into the clearing, and made for the water's edge. Larger than her, the beast walked with a grace that transfixed her. The muscles in his shoulders rippled beneath the dark, lustrous covering of fur, his haunches writhed with each step. His tail swished back and forth as he walked, the black tip, a lure. She wanted to pounce on it, on him, but held herself still. Cat she may be, the urge to flirt, or seduce him was nearly overpowering. Her senses told her he was more than he seemed, and that frightened her. That thought alone was all that stopped her. Her nose twitched. An odd sensation, somehow his scent filtered in faster. She watched as he gazed around, looked directly at her. He then turned and crouched closer to the water. His pose was all cat, head down, butt up. He shifted his hind legs before settling down to drink. Almost daintily, he lapped at the lake water while she eyed him, hungrily. Yes, she admitted it to herself; she hungered for him. Her legs tensed, her toes dug into the soil, the claws extended for a firm grip. For some reason, she looked up at the moon. She suddenly felt such a deep yearning, as if someone dug into her chest and wrapped a fist around her heart then tried to pull it out. The moon, long passed its zenith, would set soon. A snarl brought her attention back to the present. The male had finished drinking and turned around. He sat facing her. He cocked his head, body language inviting her to join him. Then, he too turned and looked toward the moon. Morgan crouched in the underbrush and watched the magnificent beast before her. Sleek, muscular, his dark fur

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called to be stroked. She yearned to stroke it, and him. He curled his long tail around his feet; the tip of it continued to twitch, teasing her desire to pounce. Then she heard a soft rumble. He was purring. That was her undoing. Taking a deep breath, she rose to her feet—all four of them. Cat-like she stretched, pushing one forefoot out in front of her and extended her claws. She arched her back and yawned, pretending that he was of no interest to her at all. Of course they both knew differently. She smelled not only his maleness but as she sauntered out into the open, her own scent was like a cloud around her. He remained seated, but she caught his intake of breath when she appeared out of the forest undergrowth. As she neared him, his rattling purr grew louder. The hair on the back of her neck rose and she shivered. Excitement made it hard to control the urge to race forward and knock him to the ground. She'd never felt anything so profound, so overwhelming before. She glanced at the moon, and watched it touch the treetops at the far side of the lake. Turning back to the male, she took a couple of tentative steps closer, and sniffed at him. Close to swooning from the heady aroma, she stumbled forward and butted her head against his shoulder. Hard muscles met her, his purring increased in volume. Something touched her ear. An ear that seemed somehow jointed, twitched at the soft caress. Another caress, and then to her wonder, her chest rattle in an answering purr. The male rose and stretched beside her, his body touching hers unobtrusively. His head was at her shoulder and he faced her rear. She watched his tail flick. Suddenly, there came a weird wrenching from deep inside her belly. Her vision blurred as pain tore at her stomach. She grunted, felt herself falling, and then

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suddenly held as pain wrapped its vicious arms around her. Opening her mouth to scream, she was surprised when all that came out was a mewling whimper. The pain grew, intensifying a million fold, and her body shifted. That was the only way she could describe it, a shifting, stretching, burning sensation that frightened her, yet felt right and familiar. Her skin crawled. Searing agony gripped her thighs and she realized they were actually elongating, reshaping into human form. The fur, soft and gorgeous as it was, drew into her skin, absorbed to feed the change. Her shoulder snapped, and for an instant, pain wracked her full force as her upper body realigned itself. The rest came easier. Her hands and feet shifted, reforming to a more recognizable shape. Her face burned, and she opened her mouth to scream her pain, but a guttural snarl was all that came out. Falling to her side, she lay exhausted and panting, while the last few transformations finished themselves; and saw the male beside her. He too lay stretched out on the grass—on his belly— gasping from his own change. She watched his back rise and fall with his breathing. For a moment, she thought to flee. Panic—insidious, half-formed—gnawed at her. Who was he? What had just happened? What would Joshua think when he found her missing? Her dreams, nightmares, were real. A groan from beside her brought her focus back to the here and now. He moved, not much, just tensing his muscles and stretching his arms ahead of himself. Long sleek muscles, gorgeous ass and powerful legs—again she yearned to reach out and stroke him. She knew it was insane. How could she be so drawn to him—it—she didn't even know what he was, or what she was. The man groaned and turned over. Morgan gasped. Joshua lay facing her.

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His eyes were closed. He had a soft smile on his face, as though he were dreaming some sweet dream and was unwilling to awaken. And like her, he was naked. His soft pelt had vanished, or was in the process of doing so as she watched. Fur seemed to melt into him. His face, although close to human, was in the last stages of the change. Chin and cheekbones formed, and then it was him—Joshua.

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Chapter Four He squirmed, adjusting his new form more comfortably in the grass. He opened his eyes. Cat eyes, long vertical pupils, peered at her. The gold flecks stood out prominent against the darker center, the white gleamed in the darkness. Glancing up at the sky, she saw nothing but stars. It was just as she thought; the moon had vanished, leaving them in a deeper blackness. Morgan held her breath. If she breathed, she was sure she'd scream. Her heart felt like it was going to strangle her; it was beating so hard and so fast. The sharper sense of hearing was gone; all that remained was the loud drumming of blood pounding through her veins and the deep, steady breathing of the naked man in front of her. Sweat covered her, adding to the scents she couldn't escape—lust and fear—a heady mix. "Are you all right?" He spoke so softly, she was sure that if she ignored him, none of it would have happened. She could close her eyes and drift off to sleep. It would be just another one of her strange, nightmarish dreams. Why hadn't she brought her meds? "Morgan," his voice was more insistent that time, harder to ignore. He still hadn't moved, perhaps afraid he'd scare her. "Are you okay? Morgan, please say something." She blinked and took a deep shuddering breath. Cool night air brushed her nipples, erecting them and making her shiver. Naked. She was naked in the woods. She opened her eyes. He was staring right at her. "Yes," she whispered. It couldn't be a dream then. As

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soon as she'd spoken, the spell was broken. When she took another deep breath, it came out as a sob. Biting her lip, she fought to keep from screaming. "You're not alone." He smiled. His entire face lit up when he did, and she found herself drawn to him all over again. His gentleness, he didn't reach for her, like so many men would have. Her fear slowly faded as her desire leaped ahead. He knew—he understood what was happening to her. Glancing downward, she felt heat wash over her. He was naked. She knew he was, but until that moment, her mind hadn’t comprehended it. In one incredibly smooth, easy movement, he sat up. Morgan followed him with her eyes, and when he offered her his hand, she reached for it. That first touch was magic. A thousand fireworks flared and she sensed something special between them. "Not alone. Never again," she murmured, unaware that she'd actually spoken, until his reply. "No, never alone again. I'll be with you." He drew her up to a seated position, kept hold of her hand, anchoring her to their present. "If that's what you want." She went effortlessly into his arms. She felt as if she was on fire when his cooler chest touched hers. Her nipples were so hard they ached, and she longed for him to suckle them, to ease the pain. There bodies melded together, two halves of a whole. His breath fanned her face, and she inhaled the wild scent of him. His hands pulled her in, and hers leapt to help him. She slid her arms around his neck, sighing when his face moved in closer to hers. His lips parted. He kept his eyes wide as she leaned forward, into the kiss. His tongue slid across her lips, wetting them, tasting her, teasing with its tip, until she couldn't stop them from parting. He tasted of wildness, of mint on his breath and a heady cedar tang to his flesh. She caressed his neck and shoulders, all the while, lost in the sensual passion of his

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mouth on hers. Entwining tongues dueled, stabbed at each other, hot breath wafted across fevered cheeks. Breathless, he pulled his mouth from hers and smiled at her when she came forward, seeking more of his lips. "Here, or would you rather go back to the cabin?" He smiled wickedly, mischievously. "I—I…" she tried, but had to take a moment to collect her thoughts. Too much had happened, her dream was true, Joshua being another of whatever she was. She ached to explore the taut, muscular body. The reason she'd come to him seemed so distant, so unimportant. All she could think of was how she felt and the need rising inside her. "How far is the cabin?" He laughed. Instead of trying to talk her way out of an awkward situation, she'd jumped in eagerly. Lowering her eyes she felt a familiar heat rising, and was glad it was dark. "Not far," he finally said. "You ran in a circle. The cabin is about fifty meters, that-a-way." He pointed back into the forest. Morgan peered into the woods. After a moment, she found what looked like a glimmer of light in the direction he was pointing. "Come on. Let's go." She climbed to her feet, and took off running. "Catch me if you can!" She raced through the brush, branches whipping at her naked flesh. She ran, and behind her, she heard Joshua clambering to his feet, roaring with laughter. Then he was after her. A quick glance over her shoulder showed him less than five meters behind, and gaining fast. She sped on, determined to beat him to the cabin if humanly possible. It was amazing to run naked through the woods—to have a man after her who wanted her—to be so wild and so free that nothing mattered but the chase. The sound of branches slapping flesh warned her that he was close. His breathing placed him behind her on the left, and gaining fast. He paced her, kept himself at her shoulder, but didn't

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increase his speed. Was he allowing her to win? Perhaps he was, but it didn't matter. The cabin was suddenly there. Light in the window beckoned. She found the door an instant before he touched it. She turned the knob, but before she could enter, he swept her into his arms. A moment later the door closed behind them, and the bed was under her. She clung to him, her legs wrapping easily around his waist. He was still laughing when she tightened her thighs, dragging him down on top of her. The glorious feel of his weight pressing her into the mattress was exhilarating. His hips ground against her inner thighs, bruising the soft flesh. His erection, hot and so hard, nudged insistently at her soft folds. His lips found her nipples, his hands her breasts, and while he looked into her eyes, he suckled. Flicking his tongue across the sensitive nub sent a jolt straight to her pussy. She clenched. Shuddering, she slipped her hands around his hips to his well-muscled ass, and pulled him into the cradle of her body. She gyrated and thrust against him, longing for the giant trapped between her thighs to find entrance. From one nipple to the other, he tormented her and she loved every second of it. He pulled his lips free, and with the tip of his tongue, created a winding trail down her body. She lay breathless, silently screaming for him to hurry on; she needed no more gentle stirring. He lingered at her navel, twirling his tongue around until she thought she'd go mad with lust. Finally, he resumed his journey, wet tongue and hot breath, the soft moans of his arrival at her sparsely furred mound taking her breath. He parted her drenched pussy with the tip of his tongue. When, at last, it caressed the distended hardened nub of her clit, she saw stars. He flicked his tongue over the ultra-sensitive morsel again, and she couldn't halt the moan that came with her sigh.

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"Please, I need to touch you." Morgan clutched futilely at his shoulders, her clawed fingers leaving tiny trails of red as she urged him over her. He released his hold on her hips, and allowed himself to be manhandled. His lips and tongue, however, never stopped their teasing caress. She pulled him over her and pushed him around so his legs swung past her head. His luscious cock pulsed, a breath away from her mouth. She leaned up and flicked her tongue over the pearl of pre-come dangling from its tip. The salty, sweet taste coated her tongue. Inhaling, the taste and scent mingled, and she was hungry for more. She flicked her tongue across the soft plum-shaped dome, and heard him groan. His cock bounced and tapped her on her chin, as if seeking entrance to her mouth, urging her to open wide. His soft sac hung close to her eyes, and for a moment she yearned to sample a taste of the jewels held within before dining on his more readily available, insistent shaft. The gentle thrusting of his hips urged her to take him in. She relented and did so, eager for that first, succulent mouthful. Opening wide, she felt the velvet smoothness glide across her lips as he entered her mouth. Her teeth gently scraped along him, and he groaned his appreciation. His cock was like a wild animal, lurching and throbbing as she sucked it in. She wound her arms around his hips, sliding her hands along the sparsely haired flesh and pulled him closer. His cock sank deeper. She sucked and nibbled at the smooth head, then moved her teeth over the ridge joining head to shaft. She watched his testicles churn higher in their sac, and reached for them. Softly cradling them, the wiry hairs tickled her palm. When she thought she couldn't stand another second of pleasure, he increased his own oral worship of her sex. They soared and groaned, gently thrusting hips toward

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mouths eager to heighten the sensation. Her mind had gone blank. All that mattered was basking in the pleasure his fingers and mouth provided, and desperately trying to return it to him. When he plunged his fingers into her, she came close to losing whatever control she'd managed to hang on to. She clutched at him, taking the last millimeter of him into her throat, burying her nose into his soft fur. She knew he was close, could feel it with each beat of his heart as his cock pulsed in her mouth. He had other plans. He pulled away, and she moaned with frustration. At first, she refused to release him, but his gentle insistence made her let go. She looked at him, hungry for his seed, frustrated at being denied both her climax and that reward. "Turn over, I want you on your hands and knees, my sweet cat," he murmured in a harsh, demanding voice. His hands shook when he grabbed her hips and urged her to roll over. It took her a moment to gather her thoughts enough to realize what he wanted. She flipped over and wantonly lifted her ass. Morgan thought he'd plunge right in, but he surprised her. Instead of the round dome of his erection plunging in, his tongue burned a trail down the crease of her ass to the center of her sex. She cried out as a spasm of sheer bliss shook her. Her pussy clenched on his tongue. Instead of continuing, he withdrew, and with delicious, frustrating ease, he took the lips of her sex and sucked. He targeted her clit and carefully ran his teeth over the taut pearl. Shivers raced up her spine and she sobbed with need. Finally, he relented. Rising behind her, he rubbed himself along the sopping wetness he'd created. He felt huge and hot. She strained backwards trying to capture him. He eased away, tormenting her with his closeness. When she screamed her need, he thrust himself in. In one smooth push, he filled her. Her slick wetness gripped him. "Yes!" he hissed, and grabbed her hips tightly. He

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used them to hold her in place as he gently eased himself out of her. The soft wet tip of him held at the slick entrance, tempting her to scream again. Lost in the passion of their mating, she snarled instead, and he lunged ahead. His cock touched her cervix and the slight pain made her cry out again. She arched her back, then dropped her face to the bed, presenting her body for his plundering. He took her offer, and after moving his legs a little closer to her body, their mating dance began. At first he took her slowly, gently sawing in and out of her body, but soon his lust took hold and hers answered as he pounded wildly into her. Harder and faster, their bodies slammed together, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing through the cabin. Morgan reached under herself, between her legs and slid a finger along where his shaft entered her. His groan told her she'd done right. When she reached back a little further and cupped his balls, his thrusting became urgent. He bent forward and she felt his breath on the back of her neck. His chest and belly, damp with sweat, slid across her back as he whispered, "Come with me, my sexy cat." She felt his teeth, on the back of her neck. Sharp fangs gripped her, holding her in place while the beast within rutted. Her feline self responded, hunching her back then raising her ass as high as she could, craving the feel of his body against her hindquarters. His hips slammed into hers with a final, hard thrust. His snarl grew into a triumphant roar. He erupted deep inside her. His fingers, claw-like, dug into her haunches, and held her as he rhythmically slammed against her ass. Her climax echoed his, taking her thundering into a blissful flight of pulsing release. Each time he thrust, she soared anew, the bed gone, the room around her vanished, until all she knew was ecstasy and the wild careening of her animal need. The force of his thrusts lessened, until with a soft groan, he collapsed on her back. His weight felt wonderful

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and she arched in response. He reached around and pulled her close, then leaned to the side. She went with it and they both rolled onto their sides, with him still gripped within her. His lips on her neck touched where he'd bitten and she flinched. "Sorry," he murmured. "I guess I got a little carried away." He kissed the spot gently and nuzzled her just under her ear. "I've never been able to let go quite like that before." She snuggled into his arms. Her mind flashed back to her race towards the cabin—who or what had been after her—then to her own shape-shifting and the meeting at the lakeside. No longer just a dream, or nightmare, it was real. He was real. "Your father said something to me," she said in barely more than a whisper. She didn't care if he heard, but knew he would. "Somehow, he knew what I was. Even though I never told him about the medication I take to make myself sleep through the nights of the full moon, he knew. He said that there was someone special in my future, someone who would understand me better then I did myself. He meant you." After a long pause, in a voice as soft as hers had been, Joshua said, "Yes." He tightened his grip around her middle and again kissed her on the back of her neck, and then on her shoulder. "Just before he left here, he said something about my meeting a woman like me. I have no idea how he knew, but I'm glad he was right." Morgan was too, and she wanted to say so, but sleep took her instead.

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Chapter Five Nothing in her previous life had prepared Morgan for the joys of being with someone. Someone who really understood her, and cared for her in the deeply passionate way that Joshua did. The next day began with him bringing her coffee before she'd even awakened, then leaving her alone to wake up at her own speed and dress. She heard him rummaging around, tidying up by the sounds of it. That's what woke her, that and the aroma of fresh coffee nearby. She stretched and yawned, a subtle burp making her smile. Her body ached, but with the pleasurable ache of a woman well-fucked. Her face warmed at that thought. Yes, they'd fucked, but there was so much more. Throwing back the covers, she looked down at herself, curious to see if there were any telltale marks from their evening sojourn into the woods. Breasts and belly looked the same, no scratches or bumps, not even a bruise where his hips had slammed into hers. Her pussy felt used. It was a feeling she hadn't had in some time and when she reached down to cup herself, a soft moan sighed from deep inside her. She wanted more of him, but coffee and a bath first. Sliding out of the bed, she took the cup and sipped the steaming liquid as she headed for the bathroom. The clerk's words came to her, and she wondered if there was water to bathe in. She needn't have worried. The tub quickly filled with hot water and while she sipped, she immersed herself into it.

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"Hey," a deep male voice beckoned from the other room. Joshua, no doubt, had found the bed empty. He poked his head into the room, and smiled. "Are you a breakfast person or just coffee?" "Breakfast, just toast if you have it, please." She smiled at him, and wasn't surprised to feel the heat rise inside her. He ogled her for a moment, the smile broadening; the lust in his eyes a growing flame she couldn't miss. "I'll be out in a minute." She rolled her shoulders, causing her breasts to shift and send ripples of water lapping at her nipples. She watched his eyes, and saw the yearning there too. Too soon, he blinked and forced his eyes up to hers. A nod, and he was gone, leaving her wanting more of his presence. She splashed water over herself, and using the soap she spied on the side of the tub, washed away the grime of travel and the chase through the forest. Nipples tight, breasts suddenly heavy, ached for his touch and drove her hands to them. She cupped their warmth then wanting, needing more, tightened her grip, driving long slender fingers deep into the soft flesh. A shudder raced down her spine. Her pussy clamped tight, sending the shudder back up her spine and goose flesh racing after. She felt a smile, but was too lost in desire to pay much attention to it. Releasing her breasts, she slid her hands into the water, trailing the tips of her fingers down toward her sex. Knees spread as if by some magic, fingers splayed the delicate folds while others flicked across the sensitive nubbin at the apex. Heat radiated from her sex, warming the water bathing her labia in gentle ripples as she slowly stroked herself. Desire soared, her pulse quickened. Her breath soon came in great gulps as her world centered on her cunt. She pushed her fingers in, the palm of her hand dragging across her elongated, super-sensitive clit. Fireworks exploded behind her eyes. Breathless, she thrilled to the waves of bliss spreading into her thighs, her

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belly, engulfing her. Her heart hammered in her chest, threatening to burst free with every new explosion of pleasure. A whimper echoed off the walls, followed by her unmistakable growl of completion. Fingers, stiff from their task, eased out of her moist, clenching sex. She sighed, and lay back against the cool tub. Moments later, after regaining her breath, she peered around, then clambered out of the water. She reached for one of the fluffy green towels and hastily rubbed it over her body and legs. Then, rather than donning a robe or dressing, she picked up her half-empty coffee cup and sauntered out. Stepping into the main room, she located him only when he sent a wolf whistle her way. He was crouched down in the kitchen. A cupboard door was open and he'd obviously been looking into it. "Nice…uh, dress," he managed after eyeing her up and down. Rising, he closed the cupboard door. "I was trying to find a nice table cloth." Morgan looked at the table, beautifully polished hardwood. "Why would you want to hide such a gorgeous piece of wood?" Joshua blinked, then followed her gaze, saying, "I just thought…" She smiled and headed for the coffee pot, fresh coffee in mind. "Toast?" she asked, then spotted several slices on a plate next to an old chrome toaster. Picking it up, she pressed her arms against the towel to keep it from slipping down, and took both her cup and the plate to the table. He joined her, cup in hand, and sat to her left. He'd slipped on a pair of jeans, but as far as she could tell, that was it. The temptation to reach for him, to run her fingers over his chest or grab a handful of hair, was nearly more than she could control. Thoughts of their wild mating raced through her mind. Remembering him by the waters edge, naked, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, took her

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breath. She felt her face heat up, and knew she was blushing. "How well did you know my father?" Joshua asked, his question bringing her crashing back to the reason she'd come. "Pretty well. He was kind of like a second father to me." She took a nibble of toast, thinking about how well she'd known Frank. "I told you yesterday I was adopted, right?" When Joshua nodded, she went on. "Well, my adoptive parents and I didn't get along very well. I can't blame them. This animal thing." She looked at him, searching for understanding and found it. He of all people would know how it had been for her. Looking into his eyes, she continued, "When I was about thirteen it began. The full moon and the changing, or nightmares." She lowered her eyes, confused for a moment. "I thought they were nightmares. But they weren't, were they?" She looked at him again. He smiled, a gentle, soft smile and shook his head, "No, not a nightmares at all. If you'd been raised by one of our kind, your adjustment would have been so much easier." He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. The calloused palm felt rough against her much softer skin. "Your father…" The words trailed off, but her mind raced. Could Frank have been a—she had no words for what she was, what Joshua was. "A changeling. Cougar to human and back, on the full moon," he supplied. He seemed so calm, so at ease with the outrageousness of it, how unbelievable. "Changeling," she tried on the word and pictured him as he'd been by the lakeside, preening while she'd watched. Her face was suddenly much warmer. She glanced at him. "Are there more of…our kind— changelings?" The words felt odd, but she didn't know how else to ask.

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"Yes, there are thousands of our kind. Small pockets of us spread across the world." His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand as he continued to speak. "Most of them are in family groups, grandparents, parents and kits. A few have extended family members, uncles, aunts or cousins." He looked at her and smiled. "We tend to live near the wilder parts of the country, mountains, forests. My father was an unusual man. One of the few of us who liked to be among humans." "He was a wonderful man," she said and watched Joshua's eyes cloud over. "Yes, I suppose he was." Releasing her hand, he rose to his feet and went to the window. "When he decided to go to the city, we argued. I thought he was crazy to get that close to so many people. So far away from the forest, no freedom to be what he was." She followed him with her eyes. "He must have had his reasons." "Yes, he must have," Joshua mused, his gaze fixed on some distant spot outside. "He said he had to find someone." Suddenly he turned and looked at her. "He said it was important." "What an odd thing to say." "Yeah, well he was an unusual guy, like we both said." Morgan chuckled. "You know, he was often my lifeline. If it wasn't for him, I'm sure I'd have been in some asylum. He had a way of grounding me. Making me feel like the dreams, my confusion, it was all going to be okay." Joshua looked thoughtful for a moment then said, "Maybe he was right to go. I just wish I'd had more time with him. I couldn't bear the city. And he never came back here." "I'm so sorry." She pushed her chair back, and still holding the towel around herself, approached him. When she touched his arm with the tips of her fingers, she felt him shiver. He turned his face away, but not before she

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spotted tears in his eyes. "I'm so, so sorry," she murmured and eased herself into his arms. He pulled her closer, his body melding to hers, his hands wandering her back and the firm roundness of her ass beneath the towel. Burying his face in her hair, she felt him shudder when he exhaled. He tightened his grip on her ass and she joined him in a shiver. "Nothing you did, Morgan," he whispered, nuzzling against the side of her head. "You smell good." As willing as him to change the subject, she replied, "Your soap and me, that's all it is." "Then you smell good with my soap." He managed a soft chuckle. Lifting his head from her hair, he gazed into her eyes. "Let's get out of here for awhile." Morgan slid her hands down his back and gripped his firm ass. She gently squeezed the two muscular mounds, forcing a groan to rumble from his chest. "Sounds like a good idea. I'd like to see more of your world here." She released his bottom, but before pulling her hands completely away, gave him a good swat. "Hey," he laughed and stepped back, but that wasn't all. Reaching forward, he slipped his fingers into where the towel crossed over her breasts, and pulled. "Hey!" She made a grab for it, and missed. The towel dragged across her nipples, and the next instant she was naked. Her hands rose to cover herself, breasts and pussy, automatically. She smiled, and lowered her hands, pushing out her chest as if begging him to touch. "Now we have a choice," he said, eyeing her from head to toe and back up again. "We can go somewhere," he said in a quiet, husky voice. "Or, we can stay here and test the bedsprings." "There's a third option." She smiled. He'd been in the process of reaching for her, but his hands stopped. He looked at her and his face lit up. "What's your third option?"

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Taking a step back, she readied herself before replying, "You liked the chase last night?" His smile got bigger and he nodded, "Yes, I loved it." "Running, naked." She lowered her voice, taking on a deep sensuality, "You liked the vision of me ahead of you. You liked the wildness of the chase." He laughed and replied, "You're a vixen, but yes. You're a beautiful beast and I loved the chase. Loved watching you run." He took a step toward her, but she stepped back, keeping her distance from him. "Do you think you can get naked and catch me before I reach the lake?" She edged away, inching toward the door across the room. Joshua's face lit up and his hands went to his waist. While his fingers fumbled with the button and zipper, he said, "You bet." She watched for a moment. The button popped free, the zipper whirred down, and then she turned and ran. She hit the door running, and slowed only long enough to push it shut behind her in some misguided belief that it might slow him, if only for an instant. The cool morning air took her into its grip and she glanced around, exhilarated, looking for the trail to the lake. Spotting it, she headed into the sun-spattered underbrush at a fast trot. The smell of cedar and ferns wafted around her, like a blanket of wilderness that she inhaled hungrily. She'd missed this, without realizing it, without ever having experienced it. The forest closed around her, enfolding her in its lush green embrace. In the brush to her left, a bird chirped, and from high above came a twittering reply. Wind rustled the myriad of leaves, sending shafts of sunlight dancing along the path. The rich loam of rotting leaves cushioned her city-soft feet. Her breasts bobbed, her nipples grew tight, and she loved the feel of air brushing against every inch of flesh.

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Behind her, she heard the door close. Joshua was after her. Her smile widened and she picked up her pace. Leaves brushed her arms, ferns and branches tried to grab at her legs as she sped by them. Her breathing quickened and her heart raced. It didn't take long before she heard him behind her. His light footfalls in the soft loam, and his steady breathing grew even closer. She chanced a glance over her shoulder and her breath caught in her throat. He was close all right, and he was gorgeous. Lean, swimmers build, yet muscular in all the places that counted, he ran easily, pacing her. She remembered being paced along the path to his house and wondered. She increased her speed. The smell of water hit her then and she veered slightly to her right and into the bush, heading directly for it. Joshua followed. "What do I get if I catch you?" he called. She detected a hunger in his tone, a need that her body seemed more than willing to answer. Her skin tingled and the slick folds of her pussy slid greasily against each other, her clit rose to its perfect miniature lance of sensation. "What do you want?" she countered and breathlessly, waited for his reply. "You," he said immediately. His pace increased until he ran beside her. He looked at her and added, "By the lake, kneeling, your ass in the air." Morgan stumbled, surprised at his bluntness. For a moment, she simply concentrated on getting her feet back under her, then she glanced over at him. He was smiling, obviously pleased at himself. "Bugger," she said, and laughed when he gaped. "Well?" he asked an instant later. The lake was close; Morgan saw flashes of shimmering blue through the trees. Could she get there

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first? She turned her face toward him and with a sultry smile replied, "And if I get there first, what do I get?" Joshua missed his footing and nearly went down. Morgan took the opportunity and raced ahead. Branches slapped her flesh, their stinging blows like tiny whips thrashing her. On the pathway, the thick loam cushioned her feet, but off it, broken branches and twigs dug into the soft flesh. She tried to ignore the pain, but it wasn't easy. Finally, the trees opened up onto the grassy shore. She'd made it! Something hit her at the back of her knees. Screaming, she landed with a bone-cracking thud across Joshua's shoulder. "Gotcha!" he cried, wrapping his arm around her thighs and racing for the water. For a few moments, Morgan lay stunned. But then she rolled to the right, and grabbed hold of a branch. His hold on her tightened and he lurched to a stop. She hung between his hands and the tree for a long, drawn-out gasp, and then he let go. Her feet dropped to the soil, but she wasn't free for more than ten seconds. She had time to straighten up and take a step or two, before his hands found her again. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her side. She twisted, trying to elude him. "Slippery little devil aren't you?" He laughed, and with his free hand reached for her arm. He had her and she knew it, but still she squirmed. He pulled her close and that's exactly what she'd hoped for. "Now I have you." Looking into his face, his eyes, she saw something there that made her blood run hot in her veins. The gold flecks sparkled back at her, the pupils seemed to elongate even as she watched them. Cat's eyes, she thought and shuddered. Feeling as if her heart had suddenly lodged itself into her throat, she whispered huskily, "Yes, now you have me. By the lake, you said. On my knees."

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His entire length pressed against her. Taller, his chest rose and fell closer to her face than her tits, but thigh to thigh and upper belly to lower belly, his erection lay trapped between them, throbbing for the attention she wished to give it. "Yes, on your knees by the lake." He spun her and with a hefty slap to her ass sent her laughing, stumbling into the sunlight at the waters edge. Rubbing her butt, she turned and playfully posed. Every move she made with her hands jiggled her breasts, and that's where his eyes stopped. Coyly, she turned and bent forward. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, "Here?" Joshua blinked. The hand he'd held her with dropped to his erection. Gripping its shaft, he drew the tight skin up to its tip then down to the mat of dark hair at the base. "Yes, face the lake." His voice was like gravel. His eyes shone. She dropped to her knees and slowly leaned forward until her hands touched the soft grass. Gazing over her shoulder at him, she eased her knees apart and waggled her bum. "You mean like this?" He dropped to his hands and knees and crawled toward her. "Yes, just like that." She saw the muscles in his back ripple when he got closer, and a thin sheen of sweat made his skin glow in the light of the sun. "Arch your back," he growled and she complied instantly. The air felt amazing brushing across her skin and along the cleft of her ass. Her pussy felt heavy, swollen with need. She smelled her desire, the musky odor of woman in heat, and wondered if it would draw him in. As if in reply to her unspoken question, he crawled a little closer and ran his tongue across her left buttock. The saliva cooled instantly, leaving a trail of icy heat in its wake. She moaned and thrust her ass back, in a silent quest

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for more. He licked her again, the tip of his tongue teasing its way along the cleft of her ass, making her clench and shudder. As soon as she clenched, the exquisite feeling of his tongue vanished and she fought to open herself to him again. The delicious struggle to remain open, vulnerable was a sweet torment. His nose pressed against her buttock, his lips and teeth joined his tongue in driving her insane with wanting him. He used the wide flat of his tongue in long, slow licks that touched her from her clit to the base of her spine. Her inner thighs were streaked with her nectar as well as the saliva dripping from his mouth, each tiny trail a torment of its own. For a moment, he backed away, just long enough to say, "Put your head down, cross your arms in front of yourself." He was back at her then, devouring her in a manner she'd never dreamed possible. Lowering her upper body presented him with even greater access to her charms. Laying her head on her forearms, she reveled in the raunchy felineness of her act. She was a female attracting her desired male. And he was desirable. Closing her eyes, she wallowed in his touch—his tongue—so wet and slick it was like satin gliding across her flesh—dexterous enough to delve into the creases of her cunt while he pressed his nose more firmly against her. She felt like she was on fire. Blood pounded through her veins, its pulse centering in her clit. He nipped at the taut bud and pulled gently its little shaft, forcing a moan from deep inside her. When Joshua suddenly pulled away, she could have screamed for his return if her mind had been functioning. All she could think of was how she wanted more—how she craved to be filled. His hands on her hips and the brush of something soft against her thigh told her she was about to get her wish. One hand left her hip. A heartbeat later, his soft cock head

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dragged up and down her slit, wetting it with her juices. He teased her with it, sliding just the very tip inside and stirring her as if mixing a cake. The hand he held himself with rubbed against her ass each time he circled within her. Finally, her need took control and she murmured, "Please." His soft chuckle was followed an instant later by his cock sliding inside. She was slick and open, and he entered her easily. His shaft dragged along her clit, the dry skin creating a delicious, continual stroking sensation as it slid deep into her clenching pussy. Lost in a sea of pleasure, her fingers sank into the grass, the nails piercing the soil with ease. When he was fully encased in her, he held still, simply holding her hips steady. It was as if he needed to catch his breath. She took that few moments to reposition herself, spreading her knees and grinding back against his thighs. A guttural moan and the tightening of his fingers on her hips told her she was having the effect she wanted. "Fuck me," she urged, rotating her hips. His cock twitched inside her, causing the most delicious sensations. "You're like a bitch in heat," he gasped, and thrust forward. The tip of his cock nudged her cervix, delivering the tiniest flash of pain. Before she recognized it for what it was, it had vanished. When he slowly withdrew from her, his grip on her was so tight she couldn't move. He kept just the tip touching her, pulsing against her slick folds. An eternal moment of need took her breath. And then he lunged ahead, burying himself to the hilt. His balls slapped against her clit with a soft, wet sound. He ground into her for a long moment before withdrawing and slamming ahead again. Flesh met flesh with a resounding slap. "Yes," she hissed, meeting his thrusts. Stars flashed behind her eyes. Her breath exploded out of her each time

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his pelvis slammed against her ass. Two animals rutting, wild in the forest, their grunting echoed across the lake. "I'm close," she groaned feeling that glorious soaring feeling begin. Lips numb, flesh scorching, she climbed toward it. Sobbing desperately, she rocked back against him. Her cunt clamped down, striving to drag every ounce of sensation from their joining as possible. With a snarl, he lunged ahead. His hips pressed hard against her ass, and his cock throbbed deep inside her. Again he withdrew, but only for an instant before driving forward, another stream of come entering her womb. Breathing hard, his body covered in sweat, he lay forward on her back. He nuzzled her ear and caressed her tenderly, still intimately joined and pulsing. "A hell of a way to greet the morning," he murmured and kissed her ear. Morgan chuckled weakly. "Yeah, but not a bad way." "No, not a bad way at all. I could get used to this." He wrapped his arms around her and rolled them onto their sides, spooning behind her on the grass. "A little morning exercise is a good thing, right?" "So I've heard," she replied, regaining her breath. "Course, I may need another bath after rolling around like this." "Maybe we'll do this first tomorrow morning, then bathe." Squirming, she broke their joining and turned in his arms. Laying side by side, facing each other, she looked deep into his golden cat's eyes. "Tomorrow morning. Yes, I'd like to stay for a few days, if it's all right." "More than all right." He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't stay." "Hey, I didn't get to finish my coffee or eat my toast." She chuckled, and added, "What kind of host are you anyway? Starving me, chasing me around, jeeze, mister."

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Pulling away from her, he smiled and said, "Better watch it or I'll chase you back." "You wouldn't dare!" But he would and he did. Scrambling to his feet, he pulled her up and with a loud slap to her butt, he got her started. She ran like the devil was after her, and indeed he was—a long limbed, sexy devil-man, who she was growing incredibly fond of. **** Over breakfast they talked. He asked her more about her adoptive parents, and it was hard, but she told him everything he wanted to know. "I never felt as if I belonged with them," she said, after he'd asked about a particularly difficult episode when she was fifteen. Every month she'd fought the changes the moon brought to her. She'd taken to using sleeping pills her mother bought for her, doubling the dosage then tying herself into her bed. "They seemed afraid of me sometimes. As if they knew something wasn't right, but didn't want to deal with it." "You think they knew about your changes?" "I'm not sure." She finished her coffee before going on. "But if they didn't, they must have thought I was schizo or something." He chuckled. "We are. We think we're cats." His mischievous smile made her laugh, and when he winked, then joined her, she laughed even more. It felt wonderful to be able to laugh. Not to have to guard herself or what she said. A freedom she'd never had before, even with Frank. When they calmed down, she looked at him and said, "Funny, I knew Frank, your father, for about four years, but I never know he was…" "A changeling," offered Joshua. "Father was a changeling, but he'd been turned late in life and never got used to it, not really."

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"Let's go sit on the couch and you can tell me anything you want." Morgan rose from the table and after depositing the plates and cups in the sink, headed for the couch. Once they were both settled, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her, he began, "My parents met and married, but apparently dad didn't know about my mother's changes until afterward. They stayed together, though, and from what I can remember, they loved each other a great deal. When I came along, I guess there were concerns. Would I be like her? Like him? Would they be able to deal with whatever I was? "When I was twelve, dad finally asked mom to change him, to give him the gift she had. He'd begun to show a little age, not much, but I guess it was enough to bother him. She was faster and stronger, too, and I think he was afraid of her getting tired of him. "They made a ceremony of it." He closed his eyes and a soft smile played at the corners of his mouth as if he was reliving their words from all those years ago. "They went into the woods and spent the night together alone. They waited until the moon was full. She opened one of his major veins, he showed me the scar once on his inner thigh, up high close to his crotch, and allowed her saliva to mingle with his blood. He said it was like someone had injected him with acid. He thought he was going to die it hurt so much. He didn't, and after that they snuck away often to run wild in the forest together. "Of course I didn't know any of this until I was much older, and by then mother was gone. Both man and cat share some diseases." He shifted, uncomfortable at the memory. "I know he loved being able to share more than just the mortal life they'd had up until then. And they did have a few amazing years together.

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"When I went through my own change, I had both of them to help me, to guide me. Totally different from what you had." He looked at her then, and for a moment she was jealous of how much different it must have been for him. He'd had someone to understand and help him through those nights when the moon pulled at him. All she'd ever had was fear and the feeling that she didn't belong anywhere. He must have been able to see some of those thoughts in her expression. "I wish you'd had our kind somewhere close." "I do, too, Joshua. When I finally left home and found Frank, it was easier, but I still felt like there was no one else like me. I was so alone." She had to stop, or the threatening tears would have come. His arms went around her and he pulled her close, "You have me now. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you." Her heart hammered against her ribs. She'd never known anyone like this wild, beautiful man. She wanted desperately to believe him, to trust him, but could she? Did he really mean what he said? Interrupting her thoughts, he said, "Hey, let's get out of here for awhile. I don't know about you, but I've talked more this morning than I have for the entire month. A walk, or I could show you the town, or we can just wander. What do you say?" Relieved, she replied, "Yes, show me what you do, where you go, whatever." "Yes, I like that idea." She slipped into a pair of shorts and a tank top, he in cut-offs and an old t-shirt. Both barefoot, they went out exploring. They returned to the lake—that had quickly become their starting point for any adventures—and then went into the bush.

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Chapter Six For the two weeks, the days passed much as their first had. They talked until the wee hours of the morning, and made love until neither of them could move. Joshua introduced her to the small town of Huntsbury and its inhabitants, and took her into the woods often. That's where she learned to be more at ease with her animal nature and accepted it; reveled in it, as part of herself, which she'd never been able to do before. She learned that the moon was the center of her animal change. But, she also learned that she could control that change, to a certain degree. Joshua was a patient teacher, and she, his very willing student. Her feelings for him grew, by the hour, it seemed. His patience and understanding amazed her. When they made love, he was like the animal she'd always fantasized about. She had to keep telling herself, she had a life, a job in the real world. She had clients who depended on her, and she knew that soon she'd have to return to the normal world. As much as she wanted to stay, she had commitments. Besides, she wasn't sure if he felt the same way she did. He could merely be infatuated. Rather than chance being rejected, she vowed to enjoy her stay, and when it was time to leave, she'd do that with as much grace as she could manage. **** Morgan yawned and stretched cat-like, a grumbling purr erupted from deep in her chest. The bed, Joshua's bed, felt luxurious beneath her. The soft quilt, made by one

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of the local woman and given to him as a gift for services rendered, wrapped her in its warm embrace. Crisp linen sheets matched the predominant earthy brown of the quilt and smelled of him and her, and the lovemaking they'd shared the night before as well as the morning, and the night before that. She smiled, remembering his teeth at the back of her neck as he'd plunged into her. Her stretch turned into one of those glorious bone-cracking, backarching performances that left her feeling as if she could take on the world. And, when she turned her head, there he was, watching her. "Good morning, sexy lady." His voice was still full of sleep and sounded raspy, but his gold-flecked eyes sparkled in the early morning sunlight. His smile touched her heart. Peering at him, she returned his smile, and reached to stroke the sleek softness of his long black hair. "Good morning to you, my sexy beast." Her reply made his smile broaden even more. They'd spent the last two weeks in bed more than out, or running naked and wild through the woods surrounding his small cabin. Their short sojourn into Huntsbury had been fraught with stares and behind the hand remarks that she'd been more than happy to escape from when they left. Back in his domain, she'd never been happier, or felt freer. The years of denial, hiding from the reality of her existence seemed like someone else's memories—someone else's nightmare. She'd finally allowed the sleek, fast cougar its place. Encouraged by this new man, she'd allowed the animal within herself to grow, becoming one with the wildness she'd always known was there, but had fought. Joshua, even saying his name in her mind made her heart beat faster. "I want you to stay with me, here." He reached for her, his hand sliding around her waist and pulling her closer. She rolled, and cuddled against him, her breasts pressing

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flat against his ribcage. One arm lay across his chest, her fingers going instinctively to a taut brown nipple. Her face nuzzled into his neck. "I know you have a job, a life, but I know I could make you happy here." They'd talked about her staying before, several times in fact, over the past two weeks. The offer was tempting. She'd never felt more at home anywhere. It was as if she'd finally found the one place she belonged, and the lover who was her perfect match. And he was. "I know I would be. I've never felt so…so comfortable with someone before." "Then stay." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He pulled away; just enough so he could slip the fingers of his free hand under her chin and lift her face. Gazing into her eyes, his face became serious. "You know with my inheritance we don't have to worry about money." That was true. It was that inheritance which had brought her to him. She'd been the bearer of the sad news. She'd never forgive herself for how she'd told him, and how it had hurt him. "But, I have clients who depend on me." She pulled her face out of his hands. To stay would be a dream come true, but she couldn't just leave her job without some kind of notice. In a soft, wistful tone, she added, "I can't just walk away without making some kind of arrangements for them, even if I wanted to—" "And do you? Want to stay, I mean." She looked up at him, eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Yes, I want to. Two weeks isn't enough. I want more of you and this place. The things we've shared, the things you've taught me, are just the tip of what I want." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him even harder, his morning erection trapped between them. Effortlessly, he rolled them both so she wound up on top. Straddling his hips, she broke his grip and sat up straight. The bedding slipped down her back

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and came to rest against her bottom. Naked, the chill morning air puckered her nipples and sent goose bumps up her arms and across her chest. She shuddered. Her breasts wobbled, and she saw his eyes move to them. "You really are a morning person." She dropped a hand to where his cock thrust up between them, and palmed the shaft. He gasped. His hips thrust upward and his gaze flashed to her face. "Not necessarily. More an opportunist. I'll take whatever I can, when I can." He said it lightly, but she somehow knew he was talking about more than just sex. "Life's been tough for you out here, alone?" "Life is life, wherever you are. The animal within makes it tougher sometimes. You know that too." He placed his hands over her breasts and while she stroked his cock from base to crown and back, he tweaked her nipples with his thumbs. "You met some of the people in town. They're good people mostly, but they're also more likely to shoot a big cat than leave it be. Keeping away from the campgrounds and farms is bad enough, but come hunting season, it's next to impossible for me to get out." Morgan tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but his hands on her breasts and the firm shaft she held, were more than a little distracting. The word shoot got her attention, but the pleasure of his hands quickly tore it from her conscious thoughts. Sighing, she leaned into his hands. The smooth length of his cock slid easily in her hand as she eased her fingers up and down. His public hair tickled her hand on each downward stroke. Another shiver raced up her spine. Discussion forgotten, she tensed her thighs and raised herself off him. She angled his prick toward her pussy. The touch of the glans against her nether lips dragged a groan from him. He tightened his hands, the soft plumpness of

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her breasts bulging between his fingers. A dull ache began and grew, and she reveled in it. Slowly, she sank down on his shaft. Her inner muscles clutched at him and relaxed, as if trying to suck him in. Inch by delicious inch he filled her, the head splitting her first, widening the pathway for his girth. When she could no longer hold him, she placed her hands on his shoulders and groaned. The last inches filled her. The tip of his cock nudged her cervix. A tiny stab of discomfort took her breath, but euphoria quickly followed. She adored that tiny pain. "Fuck!" Joshua breathed. His eyes were wide. A flush crept over his chest and up his neck. "Don't move. Damn girl, don't clench or I'll lose it." She watched a bead of sweat trickle down the side of his face. He pulsed inside her. Her body reacted instinctively, clamping on him. She smiled, but tried to keep still and give him time to regain control. Mornings seemed to be special for him, and she loved the power she had over him then. He growled that low guttural sound she'd grown to love when he fought his animal needs. His hands dropped to her hips, and gripped them tight, painfully tight, for the first moments of his struggle. She felt him pulse again, and knew his battle was a close one. But, even as she thought it, he sighed and gazed up at her. "You enjoy this way too much." She chuckled and nodded, the question of her staying delayed, at least for a little while. Carefully she raised her hips, until just the tip of his cock nestled between her labia. She held still, teased and tormented them both with her nearness until she couldn't stand it another second, then sank back down. "Not too much." She ground her hips into his, feeling the shaft inside her moving, rubbing against places not often touched. "Just enough—exactly enough." Taking his

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hands in hers, she leaned forward and pressed them against the pillow, one on each side of his head. "Hold still and let me do all the work." "You know I can get free." "Of course," She winked, "that's part of the challenge." Morgan shifted her weight, and felt him tense his thigh muscles. "Let me have control." "Okay, but I don't think I can hold off for long like this." "You'll last as long as I want you to." Her voice had a teasing edge to it. Sliding almost completely off him, she gave him only enough time to take a deep breath before lunging down. She tried to vary the speed and depth of her strokes, to keep him on the edge of release. At first, he just moaned with every downward stroke. A warm gush of air and a whisper of sound brushed her cheek. That turned louder when her tempo increased, and he growled when she suddenly stopped halfway down his shaft. "Fuck!" He arched his hips upward, plunging his cock as deep into her as it would go. "Yeah, that's what it is." She lifted off him, letting his cock slip completely out of her. "Oh dear, look what you've gone and done now. You'll have to behave better than that or—" "Or what?" He glared at her, the gold flecks in his eyes flashing. Instead of answering, she maneuvered herself so his cock slid wetly against her slick, puffy labia. Then, while looking him in the eye, she drove herself onto him. Excitement surged inside her. Her pulse pounded wildly in her temples. Thighs tight with tension, she thrust herself onto him, quickly rising to that moment of bliss coursing barely beneath the surface. Joshua seemed to sense her need and his body rose to answer. His hips slammed into her thighs. Groans turned

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to cries of pleasure. The slap of flesh on damp flesh filled the room. And then, there came a keening cry of pure animal delight, and both of them froze as waves of ecstasy shuddered through them. He pulsed inside her and she clamped down on him, milking the male essence rhythmically from his twitching shaft. Breath forgotten, held, until black touched the edges of her vision, she soared. When her spasms lessened, and her breathing took on a less frantic pace, Morgan focused on the man below her. His black, wavy hair lay plastered to his forehead and his face was flushed, but the smile drew her down. Their lips met in a soft kiss that soon became more passionate. Tongues entwined and fought. His arms found their freedom and wound around her waist, pulling her close. She lay upon him, breathing deeply of his scent. She didn't realize she was going to drift off to sleep until suddenly her eyes closed.

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Chapter Seven Awakened by his lips on hers, she purred and wrapped her arms around his neck. When he broke the kiss moments later, his eyes locked on hers and he whispered, "Stay," her heart nearly broke. She wanted to so much, but couldn't let her responsibilities go. Rolling out of bed, she walked to the window overlooking the small lawn at the back of his cabin. The forest beyond seemed to call to her, and she longed to let go of her human existence and simply run free as she had so many times since she'd arrived. "I want to." She turned and looked back at him, still stretched out on the bed. "You know I do." Naked, his body covered in sweat, his cock softened and curled across his lightly furred lower belly, he lay unselfconsciously looking at her, with such longing in his eyes it made her heart ache. "I know." Suddenly, it was like a tidal wave had picked her up and deposited her on this foreign shore. A shore she'd learned to love, and a man she'd yearned for all of her life. How could she not be with him? She wanted to stay, would find a way to do it. In a rush she said, "I have to make arrangements for a few clients, give notice on my apartment, and pack my stuff up. I'll be free to come back then." Gracefully, like the big cat she knew him to be, he rose from the bed and came to her. When he wrapped her in his arms again, he kissed the tip of her nose. "I know you have

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a life away from here. I just don't want to lose you now that I've found you." Slipping her arms around him, she smiled. "There's no way you could. Your father knew, somehow, that we should be together. I wish he'd said something sooner." Going onto her toes, she kissed him softly. "I do, too, but he did make sure we got together. I'll always remember you that first evening. Scared out of your mind in unfamiliar territory, but determined to do what needed to be done. And later…" Smiling, she remembered later very well. "Yes. Later— amazing, wasn't it?" "More. I've dreamt of you for years. Painted you, fantasized about you. When I saw you in the woods beside the lake, I thought I'd finally lost my mind." His voice had grown husky as he spoke, and she knew he was remembering the long years of loneliness, of hiding his secret. "I didn't think I'd ever find you." "But you did." She kissed his chest. Laying her cheek against the warm flesh, she felt his heart beating. "You did, and there's no chance you'll lose me." They stood silently, each deep in their own thoughts. Through the open window, the world came to life; birds and insects buzzed and twittered. A rustling in the underbrush spoke of squirrels or mice. She smiled in wonder at how quickly she'd grown to love those sounds. "Let's go for a walk before breakfast." Joshua relaxed his grip and stepped back. "The lake, we're a little earlier than normal. You'll love the shore at this time. Animals come to drink. We might get lucky and see the doe I've seen hanging around." "I'd love that." They dressed, him in cut-offs and a white, sleeveless tshirt, her in a short, pale green shift, and they were nearly ready. Both needed coffee; they'd found that out about each other that first morning. Without their morning brew,

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neither was fit company. Barefoot, with a mug in one hand, and the other firmly wrapped around the waist of their lover, they strolled down one of the path leading to the lakeside. Morgan's memory of her first mad rush along the trail had her trembling with excitement. The smell of ferns and the deeper musk of rotting vegetation, which had at first seemed so foreign, so repugnant, now seemed beautifully natural and right. They were about halfway to the waterfront when Joshua stopped, and with his coffee mug, indicated the skeletal remains of a deer just off the pathway. "You know, together we might be able to put a stop to lot of the poaching around here." Joshua had told her enough about his passion to protect wildlife in the area to know he was serious. "This one was shot sometime last fall when I was away. Bastards!" She cringed from the pile of bleached white bones. She'd been down this trail before, several times, but until he pointed them out, she'd missed seeing the remains. It had been a buck. The antlers shone a pale gold in the sunlight; the rest was white and brittle looking. Bits of fur clung here and there, but rodents had picked the carcass clean. "They knew I'd be away. They must have. Everyone in the area knows I don't allow hunting on my property." "How horrible. Such a fine creature to be left to rot, the meat wasted. It's as if his life was worth nothing." "A real hunter would never have poached off my land. Would never have left meat laying to rot. Whoever did this, is a criminal." He tightened his grip around her waist and urged her to continue their walk. After a few steps, still feeling her anger, Morgan couldn't keep silent any longer. "You really think we can do something to stop this?" "Yes, I do."

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"But, it'd be dangerous, right?" Surprisingly, the thought of doing something dangerous didn't frighten her. In fact, it gave her a rush. He was silent for a few moments, and just as she was about to repeat the question, he answered. "Yes, it might be dangerous. Hell, it has to be. These guys have guns and know they're doing something illegal. But it won't be as dangerous as it would be for a normal human." She looked at him, not understanding at first, but then the realization of what he meant sank in. She smiled. "You mean, we'd work as cats," she said flatly. "Of course. It's a gift; why not use it to our advantage when we can?" Hearing him say it so calmly, so naturally, made her realize how much she'd kept hidden even from herself. How much she'd ached to set her animal side free—be able to use it when she wanted to. "Yes, there's no reason not to, is there?" "And every reason to do something. The local game wardens can't catch them; maybe it's time someone else stepped in." They walked on, both quiet, deep in thought. Nearing the lakeside, Morgan became aware of a soft slurping sound, and stopped. Joshua, sensitive to her, stopped beside her. "Listen." She hoped he understood. She wasn't afraid, but knew there was something ahead. Joshua pulled her toward him, and with his mouth next to her ear, he whispered, "Careful. It could be anything." But he didn't stop her from going ahead of him. She was first to see the doe. With her head only about a foot from the water and her hindquarters facing them, she sprawled on the grass. At first, Morgan thought the animal had been injured and her anger sparked. The tawny brown beast lay on its side, its belly writhing in a most unusual way. Then she realized what was really

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happening and gaped. From the well-muscled hind end, just below her tail, a head and upper body of a wet newborn fawn, still wrapped in the embryonic sack, protruded and squirmed. "Holy…" breathed Joshua barely loud enough for her to hear. The doe heard him though, and struggled, trying to get to her feet. Morgan stepped back, slowly, carefully. Her back touched Joshua's body, pushing him. Her mind was filled with awe—new life, right in front of her, coming into the world. When she'd backed them both away and the trees partially shielding them from the doe's sight, she squatted down. Reaching with her mind, she sent out a feeling of calm, hoping the doe would somehow hear and settle down again before she caused any damaged to her fawn. It must have worked, or something did. The huge brown eyes gazed around, and then she gave a shudder and put her head back down in the grass. Her middle bulged. A new contraction forced a soft grunt from the doe. She kicked her long slender legs out and tensed. The tiny body behind her oozed a little further out. A moment later, another shudder followed, along with a mighty heave, and the tiny body plopped out onto the grass and lay motionless. Morgan stood frozen as well, scarcely daring to take a breath. A hand, his, touched her hip. He'd squatted behind her and suddenly his leg brushed her bottom. His breath on her neck made her shiver. Joshua took the forgotten cup from her hand, then leaning forward a little more, he whispered, "Don't move now or she'll bolt for sure." She wouldn't have moved if a tree had fallen on her. Birth, the miracle of life, was beginning right in front of her. After seeing the bones of the stag, it was so much more important—as if this birth somehow made up for his death.

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Just then, the tiny bundle of wet newborn jerked. The doe, in the gentlest way imaginable, twisted her head and licked the embryonic sack covering its progeny. The squirming bundle soon became a head and shoulders. Then, before it was even clean of its birthing sack, it struggled to its feet. Wobbling, falling repeatedly, it made its way to its mother's belly. The afterbirth presented, the doe groaned one last time and scrambled to her feet, leaving a warm mass on the ground. She was almost as unsteady as her fawn, but after a few moments seemed to gather strength. Her legs no longer wobbled, and she turned her attention to her young, bathing it with her tongue. Morgan's legs ached before she realized how long she'd been watching. The fawn had suckled at his mother's teat. Yes, he was a male, and would hopefully grow to replace the bones and hide left by the human monster. She moved. A branch snapped beneath her naked foot. The doe's head snapped toward her—eyes wide, afraid. For a long frozen moment, the doe and she stared into each other's eyes. Something passed between them—an understanding of being female—of being responsible for birthing young and replacing those lost. The doe nosed her fawn toward the brush, away from the lakeside where she and he were the most vulnerable. The smell of the afterbirth was strong. That in itself was enough reason to leave as quickly as they could. When the two had disappeared into the underbrush, Morgan exhaled. "That was amazing!" She rose to her feet, and felt him do the same behind her. She turned, just as his arms went around her waist. "Yeah, it was." He pulled her close and kissed her gently on the tip of her nose. "You know, I've seen the doe around the house. I knew she was pregnant, I smelled it on her, but I never dreamed I'd see her give birth."

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"I've never seen anything so wonderful." She looked up into his eyes, then added, "Maybe that's the wrong words. You're pretty amazing too." He threw his head back and laughed. "You're a crazy lady. You know that?" "That's why you like me so much." "We should bury the afterbirth. She'll want to come back to drink later and if it's there, it's liable to attract predators." He relaxed his arms and moved away from her toward where the doe had lain. A small mound of moist, blood-streaked tissue was all that remained of the miracle they'd witnessed. She joined him in the grizzly task of scooping out a hole large enough. After pulling handfuls of grass, they eased the still warm mound into the hole. A few minutes later, they smoothed the dirt over the top and then added a layer of leaves. She closed her eyes and sniffed. The scent was still there, but even as she inhaled again, she could tell it was fading. In an hour, she was sure there'd be no scent at all. Rising, she went to the water and squatting, rinsed the soil from her hands. Joshua joined her, his hip nudging hers when he leaned forward. "He's a fine little thing, isn't he?" Morgan mused, more to herself than him. "He'll grow into a fine buck. Prey for us, or for something else." Looking into Joshua's eyes, she smiled when she saw the hunger there, the acceptance. "Yes, he will, providing he lives long enough." He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "We'd better leave." He took her by the arm and guided her back to the pathway they'd followed from his cabin. "She won't want the stink of humans anywhere near where she takes her fawn." Morgan eagerly followed—the memory of the birth and the first wobbly steps of the newborn foremost in her mind. He retrieved their cups, leading her away from where the deer had gone into the woods, and around the

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lakeshore. Barefoot, it was slow going, but after no more than ten minutes, they emerged onto a grass-covered beach. The willow trees had formed a large circle, leaving about ten meters of sun-dappled grass bordering the water. "This is beautiful," she sighed. Letting go of his hand, she went to the water's edge and knelt down. Her face peered back at her. Her eyes shone. "Yeah, it is." He was behind her, close. Looking over her shoulder, she shielded her eyes with her hand and gazed up into his. He was standing over her, his arms crossed, his feet naturally spaced for balance. He smiled down at her, and she knew he wasn't talking about the same thing she was. She wriggled her bum and arched her back. A purr threatened. "Beautiful indeed." His voice was rough, his eyes shone with excitement. His smile broadened. "Do you want to swim?" "Yes, you know I would." She looked again at the water. Without another word, she rose to her feet and skimmed out of her dress and tossed it to a grassy spot some three or four meters away. Warmth from the sunlight bathed her; a cool breeze sent goose bumps racing across her chest, puckering her nipples in its wake. She posed with her hands held high, one leg extended toward the water as if she was about to dip a toe in to check its chill. She heard him gasp. Turning her head, she winked at him seductively over her shoulder, and then raced into the water. A few long strides, then a shallow dive took her into the cool embrace of the lake. Knifing through the water, a thousand fingers seemed to caress her. A dozen meters away she surfaced. She turned just in time to see his naked form racing for the water. Long, muscular legs powered him ahead, wavy dark hair flying, he took several long splashing strides into the lake, then dived toward her.

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Morgan squealed in mock terror. Turning away from him, she swam for the opposite shore, a couple of hundred meters away, as fast as her arms and legs would propel her. It'd been awhile since she'd done any swimming to speak of, but even so, she almost managed to make the other side before a hand fastened on her ankle. She laughed and after a momentary struggle, let him pull her back. Her heart thumped wildly from the exertion. Blood roared in her ears and her breath came in great, long gasping inhalations. "Gotcha!" Joshua cried as he pulled her into his arms. Wet flesh slid seductively against wet flesh. Still facing away from him, he found her breasts with his hands and cupped them, his fingers tweaking the sensitive nipples. His cock nudged her inner thigh, inches above her knee. When she spun around to face him and wound her legs around his hips, his cock slid upward. Looking into his gold-flecked eyes, she chuckled. "Yeah, but look out mister." She slipped her hand between their wet-slick bodies and grasped his shaft. She gave it a squeeze and it pulsed. She tightened her thigh muscles and dug her heels into his ass, drawing him closer. With a firm grip on his shaft, she rubbed his cock head over her pussy, zeroing in on her clit. A jolt of pleasure made her shiver. Hot juices flowed out of her and into the cold water. Joshua groaned, and slid his hands from her breasts. A moment later, they found their way to her bottom. Each cupped a cheek and held her in place while she drove them both crazy with her teasing. When he groaned again, she knew he wasn't going to take much more of her torment. With an evil grin, she slid down onto him, but only for that single, heated thrust. Then, before he could grab hold of her too firmly, she pulled herself free. His hands slid down her thighs, just as she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed away. She shot back

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into the water. Turning, she used her momentum to put some distance between them, even as her pussy clenched with disappointment. Behind her, she heard splashing, followed by a shouted, "Hey!" For a moment, it was quiet, and then a soft chuckle reached her. The silence that followed was ominous. She thought he'd stopped. But, when she heard the deep, steady breathing behind her and the tiny sounds of water moving, she realized he was there, pacing her. She increased her stroke, straining to outdistance him. The shore loomed closer, the tree-lined beach a mere dozen meters away, when his hand gripped her ankle again. Snarling, she kicked, but was held. "Come here," he laughed and pulled. Morgan relented, willingly. He took his time, walking his hand up her leg, caressing and teasing her—revenge for her attempted escape perhaps. She eased her legs wide, pushing her ass high, tempting him, and herself to rush. Breathless, she wanted him inside her. "Not so fast, tease." His fingers found her heat, toyed with the lips of her pussy and the tiny shaft of her clit. "You made me work so hard. Maybe I'm too tired to play." She gasped when his fingers deftly slipped inside. "Maybe I'll—" A rifle shot broke the silence of the forest. Morgan lunged away, all thoughts of pleasure gone. Behind her, Joshua was silent. She spun, searching for where the shot had come from. He was doing the same, treading water and wildly looking around. When the echo stopped, she whispered urgently, "There," and nodded toward the shore where they'd seen the doe and fawn. A chill raced up her spine. An image of the doe bleeding to death, the fawn trying to wake up his mother flashed into her mind. She glanced at Joshua, but didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. She turned and swam toward the far

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shore. The water dragged at her. She couldn't seem to gather any speed. Frustration and anger mounted. Behind her, she heard Joshua's even stroke. Then he was abreast of her, pacing her easily. His expression was dour. "Calm down, you'll make better time." His tone was flat. His energy was all for speed. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a second to focus herself. Her stroke evened out, her speed increased, and beside her so did his. They knifed through the water, leaving scarcely a ripple. As they neared the shore, he eased her to the right. She brushed the bottom; rocks bruised her knees and shins. They rose to their feet and together scrambled for shore, moving as fast and silently as they could. The woods were ominously quiet. No birds sang. No bugs creaked or chirped. Even the breeze seemed to have lost its voice. Naked and dripping, Morgan led the way. She sensed something just beyond the line where grass met trees, and dog trotted that way. Her feral senses intensified. Beside her, Joshua suddenly crouched down and peered at the ground. She stopped behind him and looked down. Soft loam, rocks, and a boot print, gave hint to what may have happened. The scent of copper touched her. She wanted to scream. "Follow me," Joshua whispered and turned into the forest. She tucked in behind him, and where minutes ago she'd have admired the smooth play of muscles in his thighs and ass, all she could think of then was the smell of blood. He didn't go far. A handful of meters, not even far enough to completely lose the light, and he again stopped. "What?" She made to go around him. He held his arm out, stopping her. It wasn't enough. On the ground in front of him lay a small body. Tan, speckled with white spots across its back, spindly legs folded beneath it, lay the fawn. "Morgan, no, don't—"

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"No!" Her anguished scream echoed through the trees. She pushed Joshua to the side, leaping past him. Knelt by the tiny body, she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face. She reached for the fawn, but her hand never made it. Something struck her in the side of the head, sending her to the ground. Her vision blurred. Pain wrapped its arms around her, dragging her into darkness.

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Chapter Eight Noise. Pots clattered in a sink. Water flowed, filling something. The smell of blood was overwhelming. Too close—too strong. She moved, tried to turn away from the stench. Pain filled her skull, throbbed. Her brain felt bruised, battered. Bile rose into her throat. She swallowed, forcing it down. "Easy." Joshua's voice was soft, but even so, it jarred her nerves. "You've been shot. The bullet creased the side of your head." Cold softness pressed against her forehead. Like a knife, it cut through the pain, but didn't help her stomach any. She tried moving again, but was held down. "Morgan, you have to lay still. I've almost got the bleeding stopped, but you have to be still." "Sick," she moaned, and as soon as the word emerged, she felt as if her stomach was indeed going to erupt. "Stomach…sick." She managed to push herself onto one elbow and lean away from him. "Okay, easy." He was gone. The soothing coolness went with him. She swallowed. It didn't help. She wanted to vomit, but not here, not with him nearby. Her head felt as if it was going to explode. She hadn't even been able to open her eyes yet, and still the world spun. "Here, suck this." Something cold and wet pressed against her lips. Instantly, she was thirsty and took the ice into her mouth. There wasn't enough to quench her thirst. There wasn't

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even enough really to wet her entire mouth. But it was heaven, and she suddenly felt worlds better when she finished the sliver of ice. She sighed and laid back. Only then did she open her eyes. Joshua, still naked and beautiful, was above her. Concern wrinkled his brow and she reached a hand up to stroke his face. With a jolt, she remembered the doe and fawn. "The fawn?" She closed her eyes, and gathered herself for the news. "Is alive." When her eyes popped open, he was smiling at her. Her heart pounded. "But…what happened? I saw it. Then my head exploded." She reached up and tentatively touched her head. Matted, sticky hair clung to her fingers. A heavy bandage covered the spot that hurt the worst. She explored that, but didn't probe too much. Dropping her hand to the bed, she looked up at him, waiting for him to answer. "A poacher. We must have surprised him." He smiled, but there was no humor in it. "Two naked people coming through the bush after you'd shot a fawn…yeah that'd get anyone's attention." He leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. "When I saw you go down, I almost went after him." Gazing into her eyes, he whispered, "I'm glad I didn't. Both you and the fawn needed me." "The fawn. Where is he? He's not dead?" Again, she tried to rise, but the pounding in her skull forced her back down. "Hey, you're really going to have to take it easy or I'll have to take you to a hospital. I can take care of you, but you have to do what you're told." The smile he graced her with that time was filled with humor, and caring. "The fawn is beside you, on the floor. He's frightened, but I think with some TLC he'll be all right. He's a pretty small target."

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"You brought it inside?" Incredulous, she again struggled to sit up, and that time she managed to see over the side of the bed before collapsing back. There lay the tiny bundle of knobby bones and fur, sleeping or unconscious, she couldn’t tell. "But, what about the doe? Will she take him back if he's been in here? You know, with humans touching him? What's wrong with him?" Joshua let her go on for a few moments, but she didn't stop her tirade of questions, he placed an index finger across her lips. Silenced, she glared at him. He smiled. She realized what she was doing, and smiled back. "The doe, as far as I know, is fine. I saw her when I was carrying you both back here. She paced me. It was weird. She didn't seem to be afraid of me. It was uncanny." He was thoughtful for a moment. Silence was like a blanket, luring her toward sleep. "Will she take her young back?" "To be honest, I have no idea. I've heard they don't, but I've never seen a doe so okay with a human taking her fawn either. Maybe she sensed I wasn't going to hurt the little guy." His words jarred her from the threatened slumber. What was wrong with her, she wondered? "Maybe," Morgan's voice sounded weak even to her own ears. "You're exhausted." He checked her forehead with his palm, and then kissed her lightly. "You've probably got a concussion, slight one maybe, but you need rest. You need to give your body time to recover." "But, we need to find out who did this. I need to get hold of my office and tell them I won't be back…" She stopped. He stared at her, eyes wide. "Won't be back?" "Well, for a while, at least." The meaning of what she'd said sank in. She'd decided to stay, but had thought to return and take care of business. Maybe her plans had changed. For a while, or more permanently?

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He looked thoughtful again, but didn't press her. "Sleep now, we'll talk when you feel better." "But the fawn—is he hurt badly?" "No, about as bad as you are. Whoever the shooter was, he was a lousy shot. Or, he was too far away to get a clean shot. The little guy has a hole in his ear and a bit of a crease on the top of his head. He's scared, in shock, but he'll be right as rain as soon as he gets some sleep. Just like you." Morgan smiled weakly. "We'll get whoever did this, won't we?" "Right now, all you're going to get is some rest." He straightened up and took a light coverlet from the foot of the bed. Pulling it up around her shoulders, he added, "For now, you have to listen to me, or I will take you to the hospital. Your choice. You're not hurt badly, but I'm no doctor either." Feeling her anger rise, she bit back a sharp retort before it left her lips. She knew he was right. "All right. I'll rest. Please take care of the fawn." "No need to even ask. He'll be back on his feet before you are." Joshua got to his feet and turned to go. When he looked over his shoulder at her, desire reared its head and her anger died. She felt a flush warm her cheeks, and when he smiled at her, she knew he felt the same. The muscles along his back rippled when he raised his hand toward her. "Sleep well, my sexy cat." Then he turned, and she watched the movement of his buttocks as he sauntered out of the small alcove. He pulled the clothcovered screen into place and was gone. Her thoughts reeled. She'd been shot at—shot— wounded. Her head throbbed. Nausea again threatened when she shifted on the pillow. A shuffling sound came from the floor where the fawn lay, and she sent calming thoughts to the tiny beast. It must have done some good,

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because the noise stopped. His breathing was even, deep and easy. The sound of restful sleep. She lay quietly, listening to him breathe, and that in turned calmed her. Her eyes drooped. The pain in her head became a distant sensation. **** Something woke her. It was dark, or nearly so. A noise, a soft bleating—close by. She moved, and memory flooded back as the pain in her head blossomed. It wasn't nearly as bad as it had been, but it pushed her back down. Carefully, she raised herself until she was sitting crosslegged on the bed. Gazing over the edge, she smiled at her tiny companion. In the dim light, she saw that the fawn was alert. Although he was still lying down, his legs neatly folded under him, he peered around the room inquisitively. "Hey little guy," she whispered. The fawn's head spun toward her, eyes wide. For a moment, he simply stared at her, his huge brown eyes unblinking. Then he shook his head and she noticed his injured ear. Joshua had cleaned it and shaved the hair from around the neat hole at the base of the little guy's left ear. It looked shiny, as if he'd put cream or salve of some kind on the wound. Reaching out, she let him sniff her hand, before she ran her fingers over his head. Yes, there was a crease there, too. Nothing huge, but because he was such a tiny creature, so young and fragile, it seemed much larger. "I see you're finally awake." More quiet than any human could have been, Joshua had snuck into the alcove and stood at the foot of the bed, looking at her. Dressed in his robe, his tall, lanky body was hidden from view. He leaned over so he could see the fawn and added, "Both of you." "Awake, and feeling much better," she smiled at him. "Thank you." How quickly this man had stolen her heart. A sudden stirring between her thighs made her shiver.

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Lust for him made her pulse race, but she forced it down. "Did you find out who did it?" Her bluntness must have surprised him. He glanced up at her, eyes wide, then quickly down at the fawn again. Before he replied, he moved around the bed slowly and squatted beside the tiny deer. Carefully, he reached out, cupped the pointed little chin in one hand and slipped the other over his head and ears. "He seems okay. I'm really surprised how at ease he's been with us." Morgan rolled onto her stomach, pushing the cover he'd spread over her down. She reached over the side of the bed and tentatively stroked the fawn's neck. He trembled for a second, but only for a second. Sliding her hand further along his sides and back seemed to soothe any anxiety he might have had. He lifted his head from Joshua's hands and looked at her. For an instant, there was a connection. A trust fashioned from a shared incident, perhaps. Then it was simply the eyes of a fawn, gazing into hers. "Yes, I am, too. His mother is outside, waiting for him. It's the strangest thing. You'd think she'd be hiding, maybe even resigning herself to losing him. But, she's waiting. I can feel it. "Oh, and yes, I found a trail, and the scent of the guy who fired the shots. A Baxter, a stinking Baxter." His eyes shone. The gold flecks had disappeared and his eyes shot daggers. "A neighbor I've had trouble with ever since I can remember." He took a deep breath before going on. He tried on a humorless smile and said, "When we've taken baby out to his mother, I think you and I need to do some hunting." "Hunting," she breathed. Her pulse quickened. She closed her eyes, and a vision of chasing something, the coppery taste of blood heavy on her tongue. Shuddering, feeling the excitement growing inside her, she opened her eyes and peered at him. His hunger was there—and, his

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anger. Shoulders tense, his face was flushed, and if she could trust her eyes, she could see one of his incisors glinting against his lip. "Yes, hunting." He fixed her with a steady gaze. The pupils of his eyes, elongating, grew brighter, the gold more pronounce. "I think it's time to teach a poacher a lesson. Don't you?" Blood roared in her ears. The headache she had when she woke was gone. Her muscles tensed, bunched then relaxed, as if ready to run. "Yes, it's time." He slipped his hands under the fawn and lifted the tiny bundle of soft fur and energy into his arms. It didn't struggle much, simply settled in for the ride and peered around from its new height. "Let's see if mother is ready to get reacquainted. A day and a half is a long time in the life of an animal, especially one this young." Morgan clambered off the bed, and while he waited, she slipped a short, tan-colored cotton shift over her head. He nodded and she followed him out. The floor was cool against her feet as she rushed past him to open the door. Once outside, he stopped. She stood beside him, looking into the night for the doe. "Where did you see her?" she asked, but before he could reply, a rustling sound came from the brush only a few feet away. Joshua bent, and put the fawn down on its still shaky legs. It shook itself, nearly falling over in the process. The doe stepped into the clearing. Cocking her head, she grunted. The fawn scampered to her, its tail flicking and waving like a tiny flag. She inspected him, nuzzled and licked at his face and head, but after only a few moments, accepted him. She pushed at him, urging him toward the tree line, then turned and snorted at the two humans. Without further acknowledgement of their aide, the pair wandered into the woods.

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"He'll have a headache for a day or so, but she'll take care of him." Joshua slid his arm around her and pulled her close. "He'll be fine now." Morgan took a deep breath, unaware until that moment that she'd been holding it, afraid the doe would refuse to take her fawn back. "Only if the poaching stops," she spat the words out; angry that such a tiny animal's life had almost been taken. For the next hour or so, Morgan and Joshua followed the doe and her fawn, occasionally catching glimpses of them making their way deeper into the forest. Assured the animals were going to be all right, they finally turned away, leaving them to roam in peace.

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Chapter Nine Walking back toward the cabin, her thoughts again turned to who the shooter had been. She didn't say anything until they'd arrived at the back door. Reaching out, she grabbed Joshua's arm and pulled him around to face her. "Tell me about the Baxters." "The Baxters." His body stiffened against her. "The Baxter family owns a big chunk of the other side of the mountain. Tommy Baxter is the oldest son, and as far as anyone knows, the only one still living over there. The other brothers moved out when the parents died and Tommy inherited it all. He's spoiled, and used to getting his way. You know the kind; and he's the one who's most likely responsible." "Most likely?" She eased into his arms and looked up at him. "I thought you were more certain than a most likely." "I'm sure it was Tommy," he said flatly. "He and I have had a feud going for years. He thinks he saw a cougar in my house. I called him crazy." He smiled, but there wasn't any humor in it. "Ever since then, he's been sneaking around. He's told folks I've got a cougar out here, and it's killing animals—dogs, goats, even a cow or two." He turned her into the house and followed behind, his hands on her shoulders. "And, I found his scent. It's him." He closed the door behind them and guided her to the couch. It was darker inside the cabin than out. But, with their sharper vision, they didn't need a light. Spinning her, he pulled her into his arms.

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"Do you have some kind of plan?" She nuzzled his neck and eased her hands inside his robe, across the smooth, warm, expanse of his chest. "He'll be back tonight—unless we stop him." He inhaled sharply when she took each nipple and pinched them. "He's got to come back to see who he shot. I bet he's spent the last couple of days sweating, waiting for the cops to show up and arrest him. He'll have to find out why that didn't happen. Maybe he thinks he killed me." Pushing the robe off his shoulders, she kissed her way across his chest. Her blood felt hot coursing through her. Her vision was much sharper than she'd ever remembered it being before. She ached for something—but wasn't sure what she craved. "I want him." From the back of her throat came a purring sound. "Yes, I know you do. I do, too." Joshua's hands played over her back, pulling at her, encouraging her. "It's nearly moonrise," he murmured. "Do you think you're strong enough to hunt?" Leaning down, she took his tiny man-nipple between her teeth and gently bit. His shudder excited her even more. Flicking her tongue across the sensitive nub, she reveled in the power racing through her. With a grunt of frustration, she drew her mouth away. "Yes, I'm strong enough. I want this Tommy Baxter to feel my anger." It pissed her off that she'd been such an easy target. "Then we'd better get outside, into the bush." He pushed against her shoulders, easing her away from him. "We're not going to wait here. We'll take this battle to him." "Show me how." She looked eagerly up at him. She'd never hunted before, but suddenly the desire to do so was nearly driving her crazy. Turning away from him, she went to the door and waited for him to follow. He was there a moment later, naked and flushed. His eyes sparkled, and from the way his muscles twitched, she knew he was as excited as she was. His cock was heavy,

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not erect, but thick and thrust out before him. For a moment, she almost took hold, but pushed her lust for him aside. The air outside made her flesh tingle and come alive. Inhaling, she smelled the woody sweetness of the cedar trees close by and the heady musk of animals hidden in underground lairs, or peering at them through the trees. The doe and her fawn were to the right, near enough to watch them, but far enough to be out of harm's way. The muscles in Morgan's legs ached with the sudden need to work. "You feel it, don't you?" She turned and glared at him. "Feel what?" She spat out the words before she realized what she'd done. Immediately she regretted them, but he smiled. "Yeah, you feel the ache. It's coming easier to you." He suddenly stretched his arms high overhead, grimacing when his chest muscles twitched noticeably. "Soon, you'll feel like you're being torn apart. It's the change. You know it, but each time you forget how bad it hurts." Fear gripped her. She remembered the tearing pain from the few times she'd been conscious for the cougar's emergence. All the years of taking drugs, denying the beast, hiding in drugged dreams had done her no good. These past weeks had shown her the beginnings of her truth, and with Joshua's help, she'd survive and grow. This was why she had to stay. "Yes, I feel the ache." Her voice sounded wrong, harsh. "It's happening. I'm...I'm not sure what to do." "Do?" He flashed her a confused glance, but instead of backing away, as most people in her life had, he stroked her arms and lifted her chin for a soft kiss. "My sexy cat, you can do nothing but allow the change to happen. Breathe deeply, and let your animal out. Don't fight it. When you learn not to fight it, you'll remember so much more and the change will be so much easier. You've come

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a long way, let yourself go even farther." He ran a thumb over her cheek, and then pressed it against her lips. She took the digit between her teeth, gently biting at the rough flesh. She kissed his thumb, and released it. "Okay, I'm ready." A cramp dug into her belly, forcing her to her knees. He dropped down with her, still stroking her arms. Crawling around her, he stroked her back and the taut roundness of her ass. "I'm here. It's all right; you'll be fine. I'm here with you and I'll watch out for you. Free your beast. It's what you are. What we both are." His soothing voice droned on as she watched the big white moon rise above the trees. It pulled at her core; the beams of pallid light seemed to bore into her, sending her muscles into spasm. Writhing in agony, her bones twisted and stretched, she groaned and gnashed her teeth. Even those changed, grew or shrunk, as the moon's glow worked its magic on her. From somewhere distant, she heard big cat snarl, as if it too was in agony. Too engrossed in her own torment, Joshua's anguished cries went unanswered—unheard because of her own private trials. The pain lasted forever, or so it seemed to her. She finally was able to take a breath and there was only the filling of lungs and the pleasure of being, and she rejoiced in the experience. She'd fallen to her side and lay sprawled in the grass. Her vision was different, her senses more acute. The change was complete. Beside her, sprawled and looking at her, was the cougar she'd seen two weeks ago. Joshua, black and sleek, begged for the stroke of her hand, if she'd had a hand. Looking down at herself, she saw her fur, nearly white and as sleek as his. Paws, with toes that flexed like fingers never could, ending in claws that she knew were capable of rending flesh with the ease of a hot

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knife through butter. She stretched and her back arched, her hind feet clawing at the grass. Enough, she thought, and bounded to her feet—all four of them. Her angle of sight was off, but she soon acclimatized to it. Colors—enhanced, vibrant, but subtly different from what her human eyes recognized—made her momentarily dizzy. Beside her, he also rose to his feet, more sedately, languidly, and stretched his mighty cat muscles. He was glorious. Blacker than the night around them, his coat shone with a glossiness that she longed to touch. The only colors on him were his beautifully gold-flecked eyes, and the gleaming teeth he showed her when he yawned. His purr surprised her, but in a heartbeat, she responded with her own deep, throaty rattle. He took a step toward her, rubbing his shoulder against her side. A nudge—and she followed him when he continued past. They entered the woods. The lower branches brushed his sides, then hers, as they padded to where the scent of a man rose from the dark forest loam. Mixed with the deeper, mellower scent of the woods, the musky aroma of man made Morgan sneeze. Her dark companion peered over his shoulder at her. He shook his head, and with a scowl, leaned down and inhaled the odor of the man. She joined him, and with a deep inhalation caught the less than subtle hint of gunpowder. Its tang made her wrinkle her nose. A grunt from Joshua interrupted her perusal. Sure that he had her attention, he turned and with a flick of his long, supple tail, bounded into the woods. Every few meters, he stopped and put his nose to the forest floor again. She followed his lead and realized he was ensuring they were on the right trail. And what a vivid trail it was! With her human eyes, she'd never have seen it. The outer edge of each footprint was outlined in a darker, more pronounced black—the depth, more well defined. His rancid sweat

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clung to the leaves he'd brushed in passing, and reeked of fear. Gradually, they climbed out of the lakeside meadow Joshua's cabin inhabited, and entered the hills. The cedar trees grew taller, the undergrowth less dense. The terrain went from rugged, log hopping to a moss-covered carpet, and they increased their speed. Even in the near-total darkness beneath the trees, the trail was easy to follow. The moss held his scent and the indentations of his passing. Through a stream and over rotten logs left behind when the area had been harvested decades ago, they raced toward the top of the hill. Joshua urged her to lead for part of the way, as if testing her ability to follow the man's scent. It wasn't hard. The farther he'd gone, the more nervous he'd become and the smell of his fear grew. The shooting of the fawn had been one thing. Apparently, the shooting of a human was something else entirely, and he was scared. Suddenly beside her, Joshua snarled. She stopped, instantly alert, and listened intently for whatever had angered or frightened him. A quick glance at him and she realized he hadn't been frightened, but was ready to do battle. The fur across his shoulders and along his backbone stood on end, his head was low, and his teeth bared. He slunk forward. Sinking to her haunches, she flanked him. Muscles bunched and twitching with excitement, she tried to calm herself. Something was ahead—she could smell it—metal, wood, humans, and something else. At the top of the rise, both she and Joshua went to their bellies and peered ahead. The house was big, much bigger than the cabin they'd left an hour ago. A split-level, with a large covered veranda circling the first level lay ahead. There were windows all around on the first floor,

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almost none on the second. It was as if they didn't want anyone to see what went on in those upper rooms. Whitewashed, but ill kept and in need of repair, the house could have been lovely, but the lack of care and the weeds growing up to the porch gave it a look of abandonment. She realized she'd thought, they, not him. There was only a single fresh human scent in that dilapidated house. The others were ancient. Joshua had said it had been a family home, but her nose told a different story. There'd been no one but this Tommy in or around the house for a very long time. And this man reeked of fear. She peered anxiously toward the windows. Most were black, like the maws of some great many-eyed beast. Those at the front of the house were lit, sending long, ghostly fingers of light across the weed-packed yard. And through one of those windows, she saw a man pacing. Every few moments, he'd stop and go to a darkened side room and peer out into the night. Then he'd return to his restless trudging back and forth. Built just over the rise, they'd have to cross an open rocky outcrop to get to the brush surrounding the house. Even in the dark, twenty-five meters of open ground was a lot when you were being watched, especially if you were cloaked in white fur. If they made it, they'd have long grass and shrubs to hide behind while they approached the house. It would be so much easier, better for them, if the man would come out and into the open. But, how to get him there? An idea struck. A dangerous plan perhaps, but one she knew would work. Crouched beside Joshua, she had no way to explain her idea, and knew he'd object anyway. He'd be there to protect her though, and she trusted him. It was enough. Moving a little away from him, she took a deep breath, preparing herself. Then, before he could grasp her plan, she took off, running low to the ground, as fast as she

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could over the ridge and toward the dark green belt of shrubs surrounding the house. She knew her white pelt would be an easy target. But Joshua's black would keep him hidden, safe until he was close enough to trap their prey. Until he did, she was in danger; she would be the prey. Only her speed would keep her from another bullet. If Tommy Baxter watched closely, and had his gun ready, she was racing toward a possible fate worse than a flesh wound. Adrenaline seared through her veins. Her heart pounded. Clambering over the highest boulder, her claws skidded across the rocks and she nearly fell. Pebbles skittered, marking her position. She held her breath, but surged ahead. A soft growl to her left told her Joshua was near. But, even with her feline vision, when she glanced his way, he was invisible, but for the outline of his back and tail against the moonlit rocks. A noise from the house jerked her attention that way. A window had been pushed open wide, a man's silhouette stood clearly outlined. The way he peered around, his head flitting nervously from one direction to another, spoke of near panic. It also told her that he hadn't spotted them. She made it to the tall grass and slunk into its dewladen embrace. After a few careful strides, she stopped to let herself calm down. Panting, she let the heat drip from her tongue; occasionally licking her nose while her quivering slowed, and then finally stopped. A moment later, Joshua joined her. She knew he wasn't pleased with her, but they were closer to their prey and she hadn't been seen. She also knew they'd talk later, and felt a rush of pleasure at the prospect.

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He nudged her neck, licked her ear. When he exhaled, the puff of air into her ear canal made her shudder. Her purr erupted in her chest and she had to force it away. Ahead, the window slammed shut. Both of them ducked a little lower into the weeds. Looking toward the house, she saw the front door swing open and a tall, slightly over-weight man strode onto the veranda. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and at first, Morgan didn't think he was the one—too ordinary looking. Dark-haired and bearded, he looked a little like a bear. But when he reached behind himself back into the house and brought out a rifle, she knew he wasn't just somebody living in Tommy's house, it was him. A gentle push against her haunch reminded her of how dangerous their position was. Less than twenty-five meters from the house, if they made the wrong move, this man, Tommy, might very well see them. She watched Joshua ease through the long grass and weeds, moving in a winding path toward the house. She followed his lead, but not his path, and zigzagged forward, always keeping the man in her sight. A thistle caught at her hide, something dug between the pads on her left paw and she bit back a yowl of pain. The journey took too much time. She was afraid the man would go back inside before they got close enough to charge. Joshua bolted. He'd managed to get a little closer then she had, and took the opportunity to rush the man first. She was right behind him, her cougar scream making the hair on her own neck stand up. "Christ!" the man screamed. He had just enough time to raise the rifle to his shoulder. But before he could aim, or pull the trigger, Joshua was on him. The man hit the floor with a loud thump, but somehow managed to keep his hold on the gun. Cat claws ripped through cloth and soft human skin. Cat teeth sank into tasty human flesh. Ear splitting screams

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tore at them. As Joshua raised his head to scream his triumph, she joined him. Straddling the man's flailing arm, she took hold of the gun with her teeth and flung it off the porch. "No! Get away!" His pleas came fast, furious, and made little sense to either of them in their rage. "Help! Help me!" The call echoed through the night, unheard and unheeded. The t-shirt came away in Joshua mouth, and the rank stink of the man's sweat was like a cloud around them as he spat it out. The smell of urine followed as the man's bladder emptied, and formed a pool under him. He fought. He cried and swore; he beat his fists on whichever cougar he could reach. His frantic struggles to free himself acted like an accelerant. The more he strained and flopped around, the more Morgan wanted his blood. The bastard had shot at her, wounded her and the fawn. He deserved to pay, and pay dearly. Putting her shoulder against Joshua's body, she pushed. At first, he resisted. Ignoring her nudge, he continued to torment the terrified man. When she persisted pushing, finally snarling her annoyance at him, he raised his head and looked at her. Her demeanor must have been enough. He moved aside, but snarled down at the supine man. Blood streamed from a dozen wounds on the human's chest and belly. One thigh lay bare, the denim ripped from knee to crotch. Blood oozed from the opening, soft white flesh gleamed in the harsh light streaming through the still-opened doorway. Joshua snarled again and took a last swipe at the man's face, missing his eyes by millimeters, leaving a gash across his forehead. He took up a post standing above the man's head, and glared down at him—daring him to move.

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Morgan stepped between the man's legs and looked at his face. He stunk of fear and piss, and her desire to take his life diminished. It would be much too easy to take the life of the whimpering retch, cowering before her, his lifeblood simply seeping away. She'd have her revenge. His death, though, was too quick, too easy an answer to this dilemma, and couldn’t be the solution. It wasn't enough. The doe and her fawn deserved more. She snarled, making sure he saw her teeth and the fire in her eyes. She loathed him. To her, he was less than a man. It took no skill at all to shoot a helpless fawn, to deprive the doe of raising her young. And to shoot at a woman, naked and unarmed, well he was truly not worth the skin it took to cover his bones. He didn't deserve the opportunity to procreate. She would see to it that he never got that chance. She felt a droplet of saliva drip from her chin—heard the tiny splat when it landed on his too-white flesh. Snarling, she raised her paw; claws extended, and remained poised, ready for the strike. She savored his terror. "No…please….oh, God, please…I—I…" The stammering, sputtering retch mewled and squirmed, trying to escape the two of them. With Joshua to keep him from scrambling away, she took her time and reveled in watching him squirm. When she finally brought her claws down, slicing through the well-worn denim covering his manhood, her aim was true. Blood poured through the rent in his jeans. His hands flew to the new wound, desperately trying to staunch the flow. His voice failed him, little more than a high-pitched squeak came from his pain-stretched mouth. She took a step back and watched him writhe. Lifting her gaze, she looked questioningly at Joshua. His eyes were glued to hers. He stared at her, as if judging her.

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After a long drawn out moment, he snarled and returned his gaze to the whimpering man. The man's crotch was covered in blood. A slash in his jeans showed her the damage she'd done, and if her cat's mouth had been able to smile, she would have. His penis was still intact, but he was no longer a man. She'd done a good job. He'd never breed. If he lived, and she prayed he would, he'd be useless. To finalize his humiliation, and take her final revenge, she leaned down and licked the open wound in his groin. Her sandpaper rough tongue dragged over raw flesh, and his whimpers turned to a howl of renewed anguish. Another lick, to be sure her saliva entered the wound, and she backed away. The taste of coppery blood thrilled her. The realization of what she'd done thrilled her even more. "Get away," Tommy screamed, and dug his heels into the ground, trying to push himself away from her. Joshua snarled down at him, freezing him in place. Trapped, he had no choice but to endure whatever torment they handed out. Morgan took the initiative. Moving a couple of meters away, she changed. Pain tore along her limbs as the bones transformed, stretched, and formed into the slender arms and legs of a woman. Agony took her breath as her fur was absorbed, and her body shifted. Her face burned with a fire that tore at her soul, as her skull reconfigured itself to her human guise. She lay on the rough ground, panting for several heartbeats and gathering her strength. The man screamed; a demented mindless sound that echoed through the hills. He rolled over and tried to crawl away. Only Joshua's diligence, as well as the death grip he took on the back of his jeans, kept the wretch from escaping. His screams turned to a terrified howl as he was dragged back and tossed to the grass on his back. Covered

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in blood from his waist to his knees, he lay trembling with terror. When the pain of her transformation lessened, Morgan rose and stood with her feet spread, and glared down at the prone man. Behind him, Joshua went through his own change, much quicker than she had. He too stood over the wounded man, naked, feet spread and arms crossed over his chest. "We aren't going to kill you," she spat. "We want you to remember what you did. And we want you to remember our revenge and what I did to you." She stepped closer, and with a naked toe, nudged his crotch. His demented scream filled the cool night air as the sudden pain knifed through his body. "Please, no more!" he shrieked, his eyes going from one to the other. "I wonder if the animals you've slaughtered thought that same thing when your bullets ripped into them." Joshua's voice was ice, even Morgan looked at him. He'd seen the remains of the freshly murdered animals. "You deserve worse." With a look of disgust, he spat a large gob of saliva at the man's chest. The splat sounded loud, the wetness seeping into another of his open wounds. "You'll run with the beasts, but you'll be less than any of us." "Run with the beasts?" Even through his pain, Tommy seemed to understand something more than a simple beating had taken place—something more than even the emasculation. He glanced from Joshua to Morgan and whimpered. She laughed, but without a note of humor. "Every moonrise, you'll change. You've got no one to help you. No animal will come near you. You'll run alone." She paced back and forth, making sure he could see her entire body, as she glared down at him. "You'll never dare be with a woman again." Glancing down at his mutilated crotch, she licked her lips and added, "Not that it'd do you any good."

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Aghast, Tommy looked down at his ruined manhood and the dark stain of blood. His mouth dropped open, but nothing more than a sigh came out. He trembled, and reached for the blood-soaked wound. When his hand connected, the salty sweat in his palm must have sent a new wave of agony knifing into him. His eyes bulged. His trembling took on a fevered pitch. Finally, he screamed, a long, loud, wailing, "No!" The anguished keening of a wounded beast filled the air and went on and on, in an endless cry of realization. While he writhed and bemoaned his fate, Joshua shrugged and turned his face to her. "We're done here. He's of no use to anyone now," he looked down, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of his full lips, "and no danger." Gazing back into her eyes, the smile turned into a lustful leer. "You, on the other hand, naked as you are, are full of dangers." Her face grew warm. She stretched out her hand, ignoring the agonized man between them. "Let's get out of here. The smell of this…man," she smirked, and pushed at him with her toe, "is revolting." Laughing, naked and beautiful, Joshua strode around the prone man and took her hand. "Come with me." Those words stole her heart. She never wanted to leave him. Her decision to stay came back to her, and felt more right than anything she'd ever done in her life before. He was her perfect mate and accepted all of her, not just the public face she had to show the world. Melting into his arms, she tilted her face up just in time for his lips to find hers. Warm and incredibly soft, his mouth possessed hers. When his tongue slid across her lips, she allowed him entrance. Their tongues tangled together, stroking and tasting the hot breath exhaled into each other's mouths. The world around them faded, vanished as they reveled in each other.

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Nothing mattered but her man, this beast, consuming her. His breath was sweet with the scent of blood. Hers no doubt was the same. When he slid his hand over her breast and thumbed her nipple, she shuddered. Lust boiled in her veins. "Help me! Please!" The guttural, pain-filled cry was too loud to be ignored. Mouth still agape from the kiss, Morgan peered down at Tommy and chuckled. The would-be hunter/poacher held a small mound of his own flesh in an open palm. "Help you?" she snarled, "I'd sooner help the animals you've slaughtered. There's a saying, 'What goes around, comes around.' It's come around." She returned her attention to Joshua, and with his hand in hers, pulled him toward the lake. Joshua yelled back over his shoulder, "Be careful when the change comes. You won't find friends in the woods. The animals will know you—know you for the murderer you are. And, they will hunt you when you move among them." Then, turning and ignoring the cries of anguish that filled the night, he hurried to walk beside Morgan. **** The trek back to the lake was quiet, but rushed. It was as if they were both eager to be free of any thought of the retch they'd left writhing on the dirt encrusted porch. For Morgan it was more. She knew what she'd done when she touched her tongue to the open wound, and couldn't help but wonder if what she'd done was right. When they'd almost reached the lake, she allowed her senses to reach out to Joshua. He walked with her, paced her, allowing her time to digest and come to terms with what she'd done, what they'd both done. She sensed his caring, and his acceptance of her, and his love. She also realized that he'd have done worse by far than what she had.

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The water came into sight through the trees. Moonlight sent a long finger of brilliance over its white capped, black waves, reaching toward them, as if beckoning them to come closer. The call didn't go unheeded. Joshua grabbed her hand more tightly, and took off at a pace she found almost impossible to match. Her feet skimmed the grass, and when he didn't stop at the lake's edge a few moments later, she found herself over her head in the chilly water. Breaking the surface, she gasped from the sudden cold. Treading water easily, she peered around, looking for him. She couldn't find him, and was frantic. Was he all right? Maybe he'd trapped a foot or something and couldn't surface. Her search grew more frenzied by the moment. Then a touch on her leg turned into a caress wandering up her thigh. His body slithered up hers, slick with water, more sensual than she could have imagined. A moment later, he was treading water in front of her. His chest brushed her nipples, his hands crept along her sides then between her legs. "Feeling cleaner now?" he whispered, and she immediately wanted him. He'd known and found just the right way to fix things. She twirled in place, lifting her arms high and laughed with pleasure. Yes, she felt wonderful and wanted, and loved. "Yes, I'm feeling exactly right. Thank you." He pulled her close and again pressed his lips to hers. She was hungry for him then, and when he took her tongue between his teeth, nipping at the sensitive tip, she groaned. An ache, deep in the pit of her stomach tormented her. Her pussy clenched. His cock nudged her inner thigh, its heat a reminder of how cold the water was. "Come on, let's get to shore before we drown each other." He slid away from her, heading toward the lake’s edge and the grassy beach she could see clearly in the

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moonlight. She followed, her stroke as strong as his, and was beside him when he rose, god-like from the water. "I'm not leaving you." She'd blurted the words out before realizing they were there. He turned and looked at her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I know. I've known from the moment I saw you that first time. I knew you'd stay. It just took you a little longer to get it, too." "Beast," she laughed. "I'll have to make some calls, but we can talk later. I have something else in mind for now." She took his hand and pulled him to the grass with her. Twisting on the way down, she wound up on her hands and knees. "Yeah, I'm a beast. Your beast," he murmured, and growled as only he could. She raised her ass in the air and swayed from side to side, silently, blatantly, urging him to take her. Goose flesh raced up her back and made her shudder. When he touched her with the faintest of touches on her inner thigh, she felt faint. Easing her knees apart, she waited, breathlessly for him to touch her again—to plunge his beautiful cock deep inside her—but he didn't. It wasn't his cock, but his tongue flicking across her cunt from behind. Rough, wet, excruciatingly long and dexterous, his tongue moved over the folds until he'd found the hard knot of her clit. Centering his attention there, a cry of pleasure forced its way from deep inside her. "Yes!" she hissed, and pushed back against him. His hands went to her hips, holding her in place as he dined on her. His tongue delved deep, lapping at the rich nectar deep inside her cunt. A spasm shook her, unexpected, shocking, and delicious. His teeth grazed the tiny shaft of her clit; his nose pressed against her perineum. Digging her fingers into the cool sod, she shuddered and moaned, desperate in her need for him to fill her. Her cunt clenched.

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He flattened his tongue and licked her from clit to anus. She whimpered. He retraced the path and she sobbed her frustration. Then she waited. His hands remained on her hips, but only the cool night air touched her sex. She felt every shift in the air—every tiny pulse in her clit. "Back onto me." His voice was rough with passion. His hands trembled. She pushed back and his cock was there, the round dome spreading her labia. It slid down the length of her clit and held poised at the opening of her cunt. Morgan held still. Gasping at the torturous nearness of him, she held still for as many heartbeats as she could. Then she couldn't hold back any longer and eased herself onto his shaft. Hot, slick, hardness filled her. The tip touched her cervix and she groaned at the slight pain from the familiar pressure. When he was fully inside her, she clenched. His groan told her he was close. But, so was she. "Do me hard," she growled. His fingers dug into her haunches. His withdrawal was painfully slow, as if he had all the time in the world to tease her, and he did. She felt the bulbous head spread her lips, and remain there for as long as she could hold her breath. When she inhaled, desperate for air—for him—he lunged in hard. The pace he set for them was perfection. Her head spun as pleasure mounted with each thrust. She couldn't get a full breath, but didn't care, as long as her flight to orgasm continued. Nothing else mattered. When his teeth sank into the back of her neck, she howled, long and loud. Her world exploded. Blind, but for the flashes of light behind her eyes—deaf, but for the roaring of her pulse—she soared. Her cunt clamped down on him, pulling his climax from him. She felt his cock pulse, and heard a deep groan burst from him. His next lunge forward was harder, his grunt more desperate.

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Twice more, he rammed into her with all of his strength as he emptied himself. When his spasms were done, he collapsed on her back, gasping, kissing her shoulders and neck. She bore his weight, but only for a few moments. Then, they fell to the side, his cock still held deeply within her body. A few more weak pulses wrenched the last of his orgasm from him. He shuddered, and his fingers relaxed their hold on her, changing to strokes and caresses. "You'll stay now." His tone was sure; there was no room for argument. "Yes," she sighed, a smile on her lips. "I'll stay. I'm home." His arms went around her, hands cupping her breasts. His breath on her shoulder was hot against her damp skin. At the base of the nearest tree, Morgan saw the doe lying down, resting with her fawn. Yes, she was home.

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About the Authors Skylar Sinclair is the product of wonderfully supportive parents who always told her she could do or be anything, and writing is just one of her many facets. Crafting paranormal, fantasy and contemporary erotic romances gives her wings to fly in her imagination. Skylar loves to her from her readers, and you can email her at [email protected] or stop by her site www.skylarsinclair.com to see all of her upcoming releases. **** Sapphire Phelan is an author of published erotic and sweet paranormal, fantasy, and science fiction romance. She lives in Chesterfield, Virginia with her husband and their two cats, Ripley and Bast. You can find out more about her at her website: http://FantasticDreams.50megs.com and MySpace at http://www.myspace.com/SapphirePhelan. Or join her newsletter at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/sapphirePhelansParano rmalNewsletter. She admits she can always be found at her desk and on her computer, writing. And yes, the house and husband sometimes suffers for it!

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**** Born and raised on the West coast of Canada, Jude Mason continues to live there with her husband, their dog and their cat. She is the author of several erotic shorts and novels. Readers may visit her site at http://www.myhaven2001.com for more information.

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