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“Thank you,” I said, my gaze dropping to admire his tattoos. “What do they signify?”
He flexed his arm, and fire coiled in my stomach, ready to spring upon him like a lasso and drag him closer…not that he wasn’t already close.
“Not sure I can tell you that,” he said. “That’s a sacred panther initiation.”
“Oh,” I replied, pretending to brush a thread from my skirt.
I’d heard rumors about the panthers’ ways, but I didn’t know much about them. They tended to be secretive, to stick with their own, tucked up among the higher elevations of Tritonia and in the foothills of Wildfire.
“I’m kidding,” he said, nudging me.
His touch sent what felt like a bolt of lightning coursing through my chest, and I restrained a yelp.
My poor mind was scattered by lust and fear, wrestling over whether to encourage his affections or to run away screaming. It took every ounce of concentration not to get lost in his eyes.
“Every panther must complete three initiations before the goddess,” he said, tracing the smallest paw, highlighting the delicious hue of his tanned skin. “The first ushers me into manhood.”
By all appearances, he seemed the same age as I was. No older than twenty-two. “What is the manhood test?” I asked.
The way he fingered the brandings lovingly told me of his reverence for the memory. “On the cusp of every panther’s twenty-first birthday, we must catch a beast and offer it to Her to show our worthiness to the goddess. If She accepts it, then we are deemed worthy.”
Fascinating. A universe apart from the incense I burned for the sea god on the altar in my bedroom.
“Snow!” someone shouted.
I glanced over to find Teeny waving me over to help him with the wagons.
“Excuse me,” I said, the disappointment evident in my voice.
“Wait. You dropped something.” The panther sprang to his feet like an agile cat, his hand outstretching, holding the dagger sheath Teeny had given me. Must have fallen from my boot in the scuffle.
When I moved backward, not wanting to touch him or an object capable or murder, he frowned.
“Nice blade,” the shifter said, pulling the dagger from the sheath to examine it. “Single-edged dagger with third-era ivory ornamental fitting. Look at the craftsmanship on this carving and polishing!”
His finger traced the markings carved into the handle. My father had a dagger just like it back home. He kept a collection of them on his walls.
“Ancient dwarf runes,” the shifter said. “It reads, ‘May the Stone God protect thee’.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“My papa is a history teacher,” he explained.
I loved history, too. When I was young, the sea king used to tell me tales of the history the underwater realm, while my father’s old friend from school, the dragon king, taught me of the antiquity of Haven. Together, the two king’s stories combined into a fascinating account of the ancient kingdoms.
The shifter shoved a hand at me to shake, and I recoiled.
His brows pressed together. “I’m Phantom, by the way.”
Phantom. Cute name. Lived up the elusive nature of the panthers.
“Snow,” I said, and we stood there awkwardly.
Damn it.I decided to walk away, to stop making a fool of myself.
A dull ache took residence in my chest. Blast the old Snow. She wished to remain with Phantom and get to know him. She had an innate fascination with people’s backgrounds. Her yearning to find out more about the panther was driving me crazy. Deep inside, I wanted the same. But I didn’t want to get close to anyone, nor to get hurt again. Handsome strangers were no good for either of us. Remember what had happened to Shadow? The old Snow groaned and rolled over, leaving me to my devices.
Several steps carried me to Teeny.
