Riley was an hour out from the bears’ territory when he caught a very familiar scent. Wolf and man both came to a halt, on alert. The wind ruffled the wolf’s fur, a cool, gentle stroke. The earth, the wind, the sharp bite of the evergreens, it all served to calm him . . . normally. Today, excitement beat in his blood.
Instead of chasing the scent, he stalked it. Careful, careful, the wolf whispered to the man. Be patient, or she might disappear. And he didn’t want her to disappear. He used every trick he knew to hide his scent as he came ever closer. And then there she was, curled up on a warm, exposed rock, her coloring golden, the rosettes on her body dark. She was his natural enemy, but the wolf agreed with the man this one time—this leopard was too magnificent to attack. Perhaps he stood there for a minute, perhaps ten. But when he finally padded out of the shadows, her head didn’t jerk up in surprise.
Instead, sleepy eyes opened to half-mast. They were a vivid color close to gold in this form, as if the brown had been heated by internal sunlight. Her eyes seemed to say, “What?” and “Go away, I’m napping,” in equal measures.
Holding her gaze, he shifted. The pleasure/pain of it swept through his body. A familiar thing. And yet, new each time. He came to crouching on the forest floor, his eyes still locked with the leopard’s. “You’re in my range.”
A disdainful sweep of her tail. Even in this form, she found ways to sass him.
“Kitties get eaten up here.”
A yawn this time, full of teeth. Oh yeah, Mercy knew how to play.
“I’m heading up to check on the bear population,” he said, realizing he’d intended to make the offer all along. “Come with me.” His entire body tightened as he waited for her answer.
I’m as loyal to my pack as you are to yours.
As a lieutenant, he knew he was playing with fire by continuing to pursue Mercy. He knew that . . . but he was also a man and she was a woman who acted like a drug to his senses. If she denied him again, would he continue to try to change her mind? Yes, he thought, unsurprised. He was stuck on Mercy, and when Riley got stuck, unsticking simply wasn’t on the agenda.
But he could be patient, which was good, because the leopard female took her time thinking about it, yawning several more times before reluctantly getting up and padding off the stone. He knew it was all for show—she was as curious as her feline brethren. She stopped face-to-face with him, showing him her teeth.
“I’m scared.”
Those teeth threatened to bite his neck. He jumped out of reach and shifted, trusting her to follow the rules of play and not interrupt. She didn’t. But the instant he was wolf, she attacked. He rolled in the lush richness of the fallen leaves, knowing the scent would cover him when he returned. He might play a game with the kids, get them to guess where he’d been. It was how they learned.
But for now, he was intent on avoiding Mercy’s jaws. Her claws were sheathed this time, and she wasn’t really coming at him. Neither was he. He blocked the attack, then rolled her, threatening to grip her neck. Shaking him off, she shot him a haughty look and began to pad away. Time to go.
Coming up beside her, he deliberately pushed at her with his shoulders, so they walked side by side, their flanks rubbing. A little warning light went off in his brain at the act, an act the wolf in him recognized immediately, but he was in too good a mood to listen. The run to the bears’ territory passed in easy play. Mercy took off more than once, daring him to catch her. When he did, she sniffed and continued on in a lazy way, as if it mattered nothing.
More games.
More alarm bells.
He ignored them all.
When they reached the bears, he nodded as she went left, while he went right. Mercy might be wildfire to his solid, rooted earth, but when it came to work, they functioned with clockwork synchronicity.
They met an hour later at the starting point. By unspoken agreement, they went back to the stone where he’d first met her before shifting. “The sun’s moved,” she complained.
“There’s another stone as good.”
Making a face, she walked over to the second flat slab with silent feline grace. She had no shame in her naked body. Neither did he. But, he noticed her. And that wasn’t the changeling way. Not with normal members of the pack—either SnowDancer or DarkRiver. Nakedness after shifting simply was. Nothing to be remarked on.
But his brain was remarking plenty on Mercy. Her fire red hair curled just above the curve of her buttocks, drawing his eye to their sweet, toned shape. Mercy was a soldier, her muscles lean and strong. But she was also very much a woman—all smooth, soft skin and luscious, strokable curves.