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Mallory threw up his hands, tried to get to Mosa as she kept using my body to hide behind.
“Girl, it won’t just be the claw or leap or whatever you cats are organized as in Illinois that come to claim you. The Champaign wolves as likely as not will form an alliance if it means another chance at massacring the shifters in Night Falls.”
“I don’t know how to make it happen again,” she pleaded.
Hearing all the pain wrapped around her words, I ordered Mallory into another room. The old wolf surprised the hell out of me and acquiesced.
From the dryer, I pulled a clean sheet and held it up between Mosa and me.
“You’ll need to strip,” I said, my selection of words very non-alpha but appropriate, all things considered.
Light streamed through the windows behind her, giving me a silhouette of her curves as she obeyed. I forced myself to look away and think of things I didn’t like just to keep my cock from busting the zipper on my jeans. After a minute or two, she told me she was finished.
“Finished” was an inadequate word. She was naked on the other side of the sheet, every curve of her lush body and gold-brown skin silhouetted by the light streaming through the windows. There was no jacket or jeans to thwart my hand skimming over flesh smooth as silk, nothing to block my tongue from finding her pulse points, starting at her neck and trailing down to where I would make her pulse the hardest.
Releasing a huff, I wrapped the sheet around Mosa, then scooped her up and walked to the recliner. Taking a seat with her on my lap, I cuddled Mosa close to me, flooding her ear with gentle whispers to feel my wolf.
Slowly, she began to shift. Her cat was there, the spots appearing on her skin before the fur followed. It made me think about the heart near what would be her right butt cheek in human form. For a second, as if she were reading my mind, Mosa purred.
And then she screamed.
CHAPTER14
MOSA
Pain rippedthrough me as two pairs of razor sharp teeth pushed through my gums. My fingers ached as if thousands of needles pierced each one as my body battled with itself to decide whether a cat’s claw or a wolf’s nail would erupt from the tip.
Doone kept me cradled against his chest, soft brushes of his alpha powers moving over and through me. An inappropriate thought occurred, one in which I wondered what it would be like to make love to him. I knew the answer—awkward. I was still a virgin and I couldn’t imagine an alpha of any breed desiring me.
His soft murmurs gently smothered my ability to think. I latched onto the energy, absorbing it until I felt myself changing. Paws formed, teeth lengthened, fur began to cover me, every last hair jet black instead of the black outer pelt and inner white-gray rings that had always marked my coat as a panther.
I shook off the sheet he had wrapped me in and jumped to the floor, sniffing at the furniture. Years of Mallory clung to the place. Doone was there, too, his presence fresh. One female in particular, over and over, but a few others mixed in.
Curiosity woke the cat part of my brain. Was she his lover? Not full time, if at all. Her last visit was about a week old if I could trust this new nose of mine.
“Are you ready?” Doone asked, out of the recliner and standing near the door Mallory had disappeared behind.
I bobbed my head.
He knocked on the door.
“Come out and meet your daughter, old timer.”
Mallory huffed on the other side of the door but took no time in opening it, the battered wood nearly falling off its hinges from how hard he jerked on the handle.
He looked at me a long while. I thought I could see his gaze misting over. Maybe I did. But when he finally spoke, he did so as he scooped up my clothes and tossed them into the bedroom.
“Get dressed. The pack leader will be here in ten and I need to know every damn surprise you want to hold back.”
Doone started to follow me into the bedroom. I blocked him, gently head butting his knees until he backed up and closed the door.
I had been shifting back to human for twenty plus years. I knew how to reform those bones and flesh. Five minutes after entering the bedroom, I was dressed and stepping into the main room. Doone had fetched my backpack. He held it out to me then walked over to the table where Mallory sat. He didn’t take his own seat immediately, remaining standing so he could pull a chair out for me at the table.
I sat down, unzipped the backpack and—
“You let her in with a gun?” Mallory growled at Doone through clenched teeth.
Before I could jump to Doone’s defense, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the bullets. Then he did something completely unexpected—he loaded the bullets back into the magazine, seated it, chambered a round, and placed the gun next to where my right hand rested on the table.
