Shifter

by Lora Leigh

  flames flickering in her dark eyes. “I wanted him gone. I wanted him to leave, and I didn’t want you to have to kill him to achieve it.”

  Saban shook his head in confusion. The way this woman’s mind worked, he would never figure her out.

  “What made you think you could make him leave? Even if the Council soldiers hadn’t been involved, Natalie. What in God’s name made you think he would listen to you?”

  She breathed out heavily and glared back at him.

  “Tell me.” He snarled.

  Her gaze became cutting, furious. “Because he knows me, Saban. I threw him out of our house; I divorced him despite his pleas. Once he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he didn’t have a chance, he would have left. He would have hated me, and that was fine, but he would have left.”

  “And what could you have said to convince him of it when fear of me didn’t?” He growled. “For God’s sake, Natalie, there’s nothing you could have said.”

  “I could have told him I love you!” she cried, shocking him to silence. “I could have told him that if he didn’t leave, then I’d not stand between him and your fists ever again. Damn you. I could have made him see reason.”

  “Why would you want to?” He shook his head. She had said she loved him, and she meant it. He could see it in her eyes, in her face, he could smell the sweet, burning scent of it now. She loved him.

  “Because I can’t stand to see animals or fools bloody and dying. Geez, Saban, letting you loose on him would be like letting an alligator free in a chicken house. Complete annihilation.”

  “You were protecting him,” he growled.

  She rolled her eyes! Right there, staring right at him, she rolled her eyes at him as though he were an idiot. It shouldn’t have pleased him, but it filled him with pride.

  “No, asshole, I was protecting you from defending yourself against a murder charge,” she snapped back. “If you haven’t noticed, you’re not exactly rational where he’s concerned.”

  “Because he’s consorting with Council scientists,” he yelled impatiently, glowering down at her. “For God’s sake, Natalie—”

  “Well, I didn’t know he was that stupid,” she muttered. “Intense, yes; paranoid, sure; that’s Mike Claxton, but he didn’t used to be incredibly stupid.”

  He shook his head, amazement filling him. “You’re serious.” He couldn’t believe it. “You expected me to be rational when he was clearly violent toward you—”

  “He’s never hit me.”

  “No, he would just turn you over to monsters.” His voice was rising. “Trust me, you’d have preferred that he try to hit you.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Not the point?” He was going to pull his own hair out.

  “The point is,” her voice softened, “I love you, Saban. I’d have done just about anything, said anything to get him out of our lives. I thought Mike was smarter than he was. I was wrong. I was wrong, and it will never happen again.” Her voice hitched as her eyes filled with tears again. “But it won’t change the fact that you left me, that you couldn’t even look at me or find out for yourself why I felt I had to do it. Nothing will change that.”

  “That, mate, is where you are wrong.”

  FIFTEEN

  Natalie would always remember the sight of Saban jumping into the van with that nasty little scientist, refusing to look at her, refusing to give her a chance to explain. It didn’t matter that she had realized she had made a mistake even before Mike had attempted to kidnap her. What mattered was his refusal to even ask her why. She would have asked him why. She would have demanded to know why.

  Shaking her head, she struggled against him, jerking at her wrists as he held her easily, staring down at her with those brilliant eyes, spiking her heartbeat with the look in them.

  Possessive, dominant, everything she thought she would abhor and was now finding herself drawn to.

  She stilled beneath him, watching him from under her lashes, growing angrier by the moment. Fine, he was the big, bad, strong Breed, but she hadn’t been raised with her brother for nothing.

  The minute she stopped struggling, his hold loosened on her wrists, just the slightest bit, but enough for her to jerk her upper torso up and to bring her lips to his. Where she bit him. A sharp little nip to that delicious lower lip before she was back, writhing, twisting beneath him.

  “You little hellion.” His voice was filled with wonder as a small bead of blood formed on his lip. “That was no love nip.”

  “How would you know?” she panted. “Maybe you’re not the only one who likes to bite.”

  She managed to free one wrist, and before he could grab it again, she reached out, locked her fingers into the muscle of his chest, right around his nipple, and twisted.

  He jerked back with a muttered curse, releasing her wrists, giving her the room she needed to twist away from him.

  “I don’t need a man who doesn’t trust my love,” she yelled furiously as she freed herself.

  “You need a man to paddle your delectable little behind for being so damned stubborn,” he snarled, rubbing at his chest as he stared back at her almost wonderingly.

  “Or a man who isn’t so damned filled with pride he can’t even wait around for a reasonable explanation.” She managed to roll to the side of the bed and jump out of his reach.

  She had a feeling he let her, though.

  “The explanation would have to be reasonable first,” he growled. “Yours wasn’t.”

  “So spank me,” she retorted, her voice mocking. “At least I didn’t run away from the problem.”

  She stood on one side of the bed breathing hard as he glowered at her from the other side of the bed.

  “I intend to get to that, cher, real soon,” he drawled, his expression tightening not in anger but in arousal. “And I didn’t run far, did I bébé? I came right back here to be the one to deliver the spanking.”

  Natalie felt her ass clench at the tone of his voice. He sounded serious. Maybe he sounded a little bit too serious.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she gasped, her eyes widening as he stripped off his shirt.

  “Watch me.” His eyes narrowed on her as her gaze flicked to where he was quickly releasing the closures on his jeans.

  “You are not undressing,” she snapped.

  She couldn’t believe it. Did he think this could be fixed with sex?

  “Watch me,” he repeated.

  He sat down on the small, fussy chair beside her bed, unlaced and removed his boots, then stood and shucked his pants.

  Oh Lord, she was in so much trouble. He was furiously aroused, his erection standing out from his body, thick and heavy, the ridged veins throbbing with subtle power.

  “You can take those clothes off, or I’m going to rip them off you.” He moved around the bottom of the bed, each shift of muscle, each flex of his long, corded body sending a flare of heated lust to ignite in the center of her womb.

  God, the man was just gorgeous. Maybe just a little bit pissed if the heated flare of emotion in his eyes was anything to go by.

  “I’m not fucking you while you’re angry,” she informed him coolly, or at least, she tried for cool; there might have been the slightest tremor of arousal in her voice. Because he was really turning her on.

  “I’m not angry.” A flash of strong white teeth in a confident, anticipatory smile. “I’ve decided something about you, cher. As stubborn and independent as you are, you’re coming to believe that the reason you do things is not so important as the fact that you be allowed to do them. That the control streak you’re adopting be given free rein.”

  “So?” She watched him warily, backing up as, naked, aroused, and dominating, he stalked toward her.

  “Tonight, love, you learn, in matters of your safety, this will not be allowed. First lesson begins now.”

  Natalie shrieked as she watched the muscles in his chest bunch, but by the time she saw it, it was too late to run. And it was
too late to save the robe she had dressed in after her shower.

  The material tore and slipped to the floor as the sleeves ripped and the tatters of cloth were tossed away a second later. Natalie stared down at her bare breasts in amazement then up to Saban’s narrowed gaze.

  “That was just so wrong,” she muttered.

  “Ah, but was it as wrong as defying me, slipping away from me, and nearly getting yourself kidnapped?” He shook a finger at her before he struck again.

  Before Natalie could consider running, she found herself on her back, the light cotton pajama bottoms flying through the air as Saban tossed them over his shoulder.

  She was naked now. Naked and hot and wet, and she was damned if she going to let him get away with this.

  She jerked to rise from the bed, only to find herself pushed back, rolled to her stomach, and a hard male weight straddling her thighs as one broad, calloused palm pressed between her shoulder blades, holding her to the bed despite her struggles.

  “I said I was sorry,” she bit out. “What more do you want? I won’t do it again.”

  The opposite hand stroked over the curve of her butt as his fingertips pressed lightly against the narrow crease.

  “Saban, I love you. You know I love you. I swear, I learned my lesson already.” Okay, she was caving, but she had been wrong, she was big enough to admit to it. “You shouldn’t have walked away like that. You shouldn’t have left me.”

  “I’ll never leave you again, cher.” The words whispered over the small of her back a second before his lips grazed the flesh. “Should you ever be so foolish again, I’ll spank you where you stand.”

  His hand landed lightly on the curve of her ass.

  Natalie froze, her eyes jerking wide at the incredible streak of burning pleasure that tore through the nerve endings there.

  “Saban.” Was that weak, whimpering sound actually coming from her lips? She sounded like a sex vamp begging for more.

  “You’ll be a good girl in the future, will you no, cher?” The accent slipped out, cutting words and sounding so incredibly sexy she almost climaxed from the sound of it alone.

  “This is ridiculous,” she cried out as another firm slap landed on her rear, sending those curling fingers of heat and pleasure to wrap around her already swollen clit.

  His hand landed again, again. Oh God, she could feel her flesh heating, blushing, and she knew she should be outraged, furious; instead, she was burning alive with arousal.

  She could feel the dampness between her thighs, coating her pussy, spreading along her clit and increasing its sensitivity.

  “I’ll not walk away again, mate.” He leaned forward, his lips pressing between her shoulders, his teeth rasping over her spine. “I’ll love you until you know nothing exists in this life for me but you. I’ll protect you, sometimes, from yourself.” He nipped at her shoulder. “But never will I leave you again.”

  His hand slipped between their bodies, found the juices gathering along the swollen folds there, and he growled in hungry demand.

  His touch was like a flame. She could feel the pleasure burning inside her, her body begging for more. She should be fighting him, but she couldn’t find the will to deny herself, let alone him, what she knew he could give her.

  What she knew they both needed.

  “Come, cher.”

  Natalie turned eagerly as he lifted his weight from her, turning her to him. Her arms twined around his neck, dragging his chest to her breasts and his lips to hers.

  She wanted that kiss. She was burning for it, dying for it. When it came, it was filled with the taste of wild lust and stormy emotion. Anger and fear laced each desperate bite of passion, each sip of lips as their moans mingled, their hands caressed.

  Oh God, his hands. Calloused and strong, they skimmed over her flesh as his lips moved to her neck, licked, stroked. A frenzy of sensations tore through her. She could feel the heat like lightning, searing her flesh.

  “Mine!” He snarled the word against the curve of her breast. “Always mine.”

  She wasn’t fighting it, she couldn’t fight it. The hours he had left her alone had given her a chance to think, a chance to feel. She had faced the thought of life without him and found it intolerable.

  “Come for me, cher.” His fingers slipped inside her pussy, stroked with diabolic pleasure, as his lips covered the hard point of her nipple.

  And she did just as he asked; she came, shuddering, arching, feeling the pleasure overtake her in gentle, consuming waves.

  “Ah, cher.” He licked her nipple, grazed his teeth over it. “Ma cher.”

  “I love you.” She whispered the words against his neck as she held on tight and felt the shudder of response that rippled through his hard body. “I’ll always love you.”

  She would never be able to walk away as she had with Mike. That knowledge was both terrifying and exhilarating, knowing he held that much of her soul.

  “I treasure you.” He kissed her nipple with suckling little motions of his lips. “I adore you.” His head moved to her stomach. “Ah, cher, I love you until I feel lost without you.” His lips lowered to the swollen, saturated folds of her pussy.

  Pleasure became a vortex of sensation. She screamed his name as he licked, sucked, tasted, and growled into the wet heat of her sex.

  His teeth tugged at the swollen folds, his tongue licked and probed and wrapped around her clit with rasping little caresses that sent her exploding into the night.

  When he dragged his body over hers, his cock nudging at the entrance to her vagina, Natalie forced her eyes open, lifted her lashes, and became lost in his gaze.

  “I marked you,” he growled roughly. “Mine. Forever.”

  “Stole me with a kiss,” she whimpered, arching against him. “Steal some more, Saban.”

  With his Jaguar kiss, with the taste of lust and the touch of a conquering warrior, he had stolen her heart and become a part of her soul.

  Natalie cried out his name as he took possession of what was his. His erection pressing forward, the silk-over-steel flesh parting delicate tissue, caressing, burning with a pleasure that fired more pleasure and sent her careening into a world where nothing mattered but the pleasure, the touch, the taste of his kiss.

  Strained cries echoed around her as she felt the blaze of ecstasy, the pounding strength of his cock shafting inside her forcefully, as sensation became a hunger and hunger became a demand.

  She writhed beneath him, arching to him, driving him deeper until the force of the need exploded through her, brilliant, lightning hot, and filled with all the love she had kept inside, locked away, frightened of the pain of losing this man. If she lost him, how much of herself would she lose as well?

  As she felt his climax tearing through him, felt the barb in all its burning pleasure extend inside her, locking him in place as his semen spurted hot and fierce into the depths of her pussy, Natalie knew she would lose all of herself.

  “I love you more than life,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she held him to her, her nails pressing into his back, her lips pressed to his shoulder. “Don’t leave me, Saban. Never, never leave me.”

  “Even death won’t tear me from you.” His head lifted, his green eyes nearly black with the emotions ripping between them, soul to soul. “Even death, Natalie, could not tear my soul from yours.”

  She lifted her hand to his face, let the tears fall, and let him shelter her in the strength of his arms, in an embrace as freeing as it was protective.

  It would never be easy, but right here, sheltered by her Jaguar, loved, protected, held, she knew it was definitely worth fighting for.

  And together, one heart, one soul, they whispered, “I love you.”

  SHIFTER’S LADY

  Alyssa Day

  This one is for Ann Thayer-Cohen, who gave me the title and who is an

  extraordinary moderator and a great friend. And, always, for Judd.

  And to my readers—thank you! Please visit me at ww
w.alyssaday.com

  for excerpts, free downloadable screensavers, and a free short story for

  members only—“Atlantis: In the Beginning”—and watch for Lord

  Justice’s book, Atlantis Unleashed, coming soon!

  ONE

  Big Cypress National Preserve

  West of Miami, Florida

  Midnight

  Moonlight silvered down through the branches of the cypress trees, shadowing the gnarled limbs and trunks into the menacing forms of ogres from a child’s nightmare. The blood tracing geometric patterns in the dirt was no specter of childish terror, but the very real damage from a vicious attack.

  Swearing under his breath, Ethan circled the fallen panther—the sixth one attacked in two weeks—all the while scanning the chill winter’s dark for a glimpse of the unnatural predator who’d attacked it. He’d heard the animal’s screams of pain while patrolling more than a mile away and had immediately broken into a full-out run, but the attacker had disappeared into the winter night.

  At least for this panther he’d been in time. This cat was still alive.

  As the wounded panther—a good-sized male—lifted its head to snarl, Ethan drew his lips back from his teeth and preempted the cat’s defiance with a warning growl of his own.

  “Sorry, my friend, I know you’re hurting,” he said, pitching his voice to the low rumble of an alpha male asserting its dominance over a pack member. “But if you won’t let me get close enough to help you, we’re going to have to go the tranq dart routine.”

  Lifting his head, he scented the air again, memorizing the rank odor that had assailed his nostrils as he approached the clearing. His shape-shifter senses were preternaturally sharp, but even in his human shape, Ethan could track a scent trail. This one was distinct from any of his own pride, but it was somehow oddly familiar.

  The cat on the ground snarled again, weaker this time. The gouges clawed out of its side and belly glistened a deep crimson-stained black in the moonlight.

  Ethan took one last, long look around and dropped down into a crouch next to the animal. “It looks like the bastard who did this to you is gone. So let’s get you to someone who can help.”

  The panther bared its teeth in one final act of defiance before Ethan grasped the sides of its face in his hands and stared into its eyes. He sent a mental touch into the cat’s mind, simultaneously muting the pain the animal was suffering and delivering a simple message: Pride-brother. Alpha. Help you.

  As he lifted the heavy body into his arms, careful not to jostle the cat more than necessary, he uttered a grim promise. “I’ll get him for you, friend. Believe me, he’ll pay.”

  TWO

  Atlantis

  The next morning

  Marie stood on the emerald-hued grass and stared, nearly transfixed, at the white marble temple inlaid with jade, sapphires, and amethyst, memorizing it anew, though she’d lived and worked within it for more than three centuries of days. She wanted to burn its image into her very being, in the event—the almost impossible event, she reminded herself—that she were never to see it again.

  Her temple. Her sacred responsibility.

  The one she was abandoning.

  Her breath quickened, and an obstruction the size of one of her favorite sea sapphires lodged in her throat. “Erin, I—”

  Beside her, Erin sighed and shook her head, her blonde curls shimmering in the magically created sunlight that replaced the rays of a sun that had never dared venture so far beneath the sea. Erin put her hands on her hips in that peculiarly human gesture that both she and Prince Conlan’s beloved, Riley, favored when they were frustrated.

  Humans. Marie marveled anew at the idea that she had two human friends, when no human before Riley had set foot in Atlantis for more than eleven thousand years.

  “Not again, Marie,” Erin said firmly, tapping her foot in mock impatience. “We are not going over my duties in the temple one more time. As First Maiden of the Nereids for more than three hundred years, don’t you think it’s time you had a vacation?”

  “But Lord Justice—”

  Erin sobered, the playfulness fading from her face. “No one wants to find him more than Ven and I do, Marie. You know that Conlan and Ven and all the warriors have done nothing else but search for Justice since he…since he…”

  Erin’s voice trailed off, as she visibly fought for control. “He sacrificed himself to that monster to protect me. To protect Ven and me. We will never give up.”

  Marie hugged the shorter woman, o