by Knox, Abby
Even the wolf in him could not help but worship these beautiful creatures. Grand and sleek the wolves were not. They were scruffy little scavengers in comparison. He could barely admit it to himself, but the truth was right there. The panthers were a clan above the rest. Who was he, a filthy, woolly beast, to think he could be with such a creature?
* * *
She had told him not to allow himself to be seen by her or any of the panthers that night, and technically, he had obeyed. But he found himself missing her when the entire family of panthers had finally gathered as one hunting party and disappeared together into the night.
Ash wanted his girl. Needed his girl. Needed to be reminded of her. He needed her scent on him. He eyed the secret staircase in the tree. He shouldn’t do it, but he found himself bounding up the stairs before he could give it another thought.
At the top of the stairs, he crossed a rickety plank that led into the treehouse. Inside, stacks of clothes dotted the perimeter. Knowing her family, he half-expected the treehouse to be furnished with rugs, wingback chairs, and a bar. But there was nothing.
He didn’t need his eyes to spot Rosemary’s clothes. Her scent guided him to her tidy little stack, where he knelt, rifled through it, and found the source. “Fuck it,” he rattled. He took her panties, held them up to his nose, and inhaled deeply. His woman was a fucking goddess. He held back the urge to taste it and breathed in again.
Ash had no idea how long he spent in there, inhaling her sweetness. Too soon, his supernatural hearing warned him of the soft padding of feline paws racing toward him in the dark.
He needed to disappear, and fast. But first, he did what he came to do: swiping the damp panties across his chest, marking himself once again with her scent. He hurriedly folded them back up and placed them on the pile of clothes, then bounded down the stairs, disappearing into the shadows once again.
When the pack returned from the hunt, he could smell the blood on them before he could even see it dripping from their fangs. The aroma of rabbits, squirrels, muskrats, birds, gator, and fish, was thick in the night air. But how? Cats hate water, don’t they?
Even so, Ash realized no creature stood a chance all night when the panther pack was together. They feasted on everything that moved.
Ash had thought the wolves were great hunters—and historically, they were—but these days they were city kids, known to fill their bellies with scrap food in the alleyways. The panthers dined like they were at the top of the food chain.
Ash had no taste for wild game while he was in human form, but something stirred inside him while he whiffed the aftermath of their carnage that night. If he and Rosemary could find a way to complement each other as shifters, they could end up as a pretty good hunting team. Only trouble was, they would never be able to match their moon cycles. Very unfortunate. Maybe Lucy could whip up some kind of spell…
His wondering was cut off when he watched panther Rosemary, GiGi, Lionel, and some others he didn’t know, dive straight into the bayou to clean off the scent of blood. He knew nothing of full-blooded panthers other than they were cats, so this surprised him. What surprised him more was watching the four of them frolic together afterward in the bayou, like a bunch of wet kittens. Hell, it looked to him like panther Rosemary got along with her parents much better than human Rosemary. At certain times, since he’d learned the truth about her identity, he’d wondered if there was a way to break the spell. But now, seeing her like this, he wouldn’t dream of it. This was a whole other world opening up to him, and it only made him hungry to know more.
Once clean, Rosemary’s golden body glided effortlessly up the hidden staircase in the cypress tree. Ash once again held his breath as he watched.
When she descended the stairs in human form, she looked around, an expression of severe annoyance on her face. She knew he was near. She knew he had touched her clothes. His scent was all over them. Of course. What was he thinking? Son of a bitch.
Chapter Eleven
Rosemary
“Ash, what the fuck?” She dabbed her wet hair with a towel as she rode home in the back of the town car with Ash on speakerphone. GiGi was so tired from hunting, she’d already passed out on the seat next to her.
“Babe, I’m sorry. What’s up?” he asked innocently.
“You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”
“And yet I apologize. See, I’m pre-gaming for marriage,” he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice.
“This is why I told you I preferred you not to see the panther until we were married. I didn’t want you changing your mind, and I didn’t want you to put yourself in danger.”
“I haven’t changed my mind. And what makes me being seen less of a danger after we’re married?”
“As you know,” she said, “The DuChamps are old-fashioned. We may be bonded, but once we’re legally married as recognized by the state of Louisiana, nobody can touch you. Not even if they tried, no panther shifters can touch the mate of one of their own, no matter the, er, species.”
Ash laughed. “A piece of paper from the clerk’s office can do that? That’s some bureaucratic magic, I gotta tell ya.”
Rosemary sighed. “I didn’t make the rules, babe. So? What did you think?”
“About what?
“Don’t play dumb, Ashton Boudreaux. What did you think when you peeped at Rosie the panther?”
The pause that followed shook Rosemary more than a little bit. She girded up her courage as she waited to hear the admission. He was frightened. She was too big, too fierce, too bloody, too…something. Maybe everything.
Ash’s reply? “I think you’re too good for me.”
Rosemary let it sink in, and then her chin trembled in sadness. “You’re going to bolt, aren’t you?”
The car came to a stop in front of her flat. Ash was there, standing in a parking space just feet away, staring down the town car like a predator.
Within seconds, Ash opened her car door and dropped his phone, sweeping Rosemary up in his arms and throwing her over his shoulder, caveman-style.
“Ma’am?” interjected the driver.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Take GiGi on home, please.”
“Ash, why didn’t you listen to my warning? How am I supposed to trust you?” The questions came pouring out as he carried her upstairs.
“I’m not going anywhere, do you understand that? But I’m telling you, I’m not the same as you. You’ve got things to consider before you settle for someone like me. I’m a scruffy, scrappy, stray dog who eats other people’s leavins. I took one look at your panther form, and I realized I hardly deserve to be in your presence, let alone mate with you.” He punched in the security code to her flat.
“You said yourself we were meant to be together,” she said once they were inside.
“I said you were my mate. But if you don’t want me, I’ll understand. It’s the wolf code.” He set her down on the sectional sofa and covered her legs with a soft throw.
“Ash, that’s very sweet, but this wolf code thing is asinine, and I will not allow it. And just to get my point across to you, I’m extending your consequences until the wedding night. Forget about Easter.”
“You are one crazy, vindictive little kitty cat. You’re not going to even let me taste your downstairs again until we’re married?”
She quirked an eyebrow and nodded. “I warned you not to run yourself down, and I meant it.”
Ash shook his head and gritted his teeth as he spoke. “When is this big damn wedding, anyway?”
“June 15.”
“That’s months away! You said a short engagement!”
She arched an eyebrow. “Darlin’, this is the shortest goddamn engagement of anyone in the DuChamp clan since the cavewomen used a bone needle to hand sew a dress out of a woolly mammoth hide. You should be thanking your lucky stars I’m not meaning June 15 of next year.”
He exhaled. “I’ll go along with your ridiculous little games, Rosemary.
But in the meantime, you’d better get in the bedroom, bend over that bed and hold on tight. This wolf is pent up.”
She happily sprinted to the bedroom with the wolf not far behind; her body was already aching for his touch.
* * *
Ash
This is insane, Ash thought as he bent his woman over the bed. He couldn’t pop her cherry. He had accepted that. It had been a pretty hot little game, knowing they could do everything but that one thing until the wedding night.
But then, on top of that, he had agreed to restrain himself from touching or tasting his favorite part of her tight little body as some kind of twisted punishment for hauling ass in the middle of dinner with her parents. He hadn’t loved that idea, but it was now mid-March and he could wait it out until after Lent, whenever that was.
But now, this crazy-ass fiancée of his had extended the pussy moratorium completely until the wedding night in June. But what could he do? Get to know her. Soul, mind, and body. Consider yourself lucky that she freely and gleefully grants you access to her ass, which is way beyond what most can expect from a virgin fiancée.
He lubed her up and pushed in slowly. She gasped at first and then sighed as he gradually stretched her out. Little by little, checking in on her comfort, he pushed in deeper, stretching her more. He scanned the soft skin of her back. Rosemary was leaning over the bed, looking back at him with the expression of an evil temptress. Accepting his cock in this way might seem like the act of a beta female, but she knew she was the one with the upper hand. Truly, as she was bringing herself to the edge with her fingers.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Fuck him, because her pussy, the part of her he really wanted—that part of her body that the wolf could home in on from ten miles away—was off-limits to him for months.
She did have a beautiful ass, and cupping her breasts from behind was deliciously hot. But damn, the psychological torture of knowing what he was and was not allowed to do…it was too much.
It was too much for his psyche. Too much for his emotions.
Too much to hold back the wolf.
Shit.
He let out a growl as he thrust in.
She moaned, and the flesh on her back broke out in goosebumps at the sound of the beast.
His noises further teased the primal forces that battled to get out. He felt the change beginning to happen. He felt every hair on his body stand on end and his mouth start to water.
The beast was coming out, and the beast was also…coming.
He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it. But his Rosemary was egging him on with her primal noises—a feline sort of chirping, like a cat waiting for the right moment to pounce on its prey.
Ash opened his eyes at the moment of their mutual ecstasy and got the shock of his life.
It only happened for a flash, but he saw it happen. Both he and his girl had shapeshifted, right there in the bedroom. He was the wolf. His girl was the panther. And they were together. And then, in less than half a second, they became human again.
This told him everything he needed to know about her little games. She was tormenting herself as well as him.
What a delectable, twisted little creature he was about to marry.
It was going to be a long, torturous slog until June for the wolf.
Chapter Twelve
Rosemary
They say curiosity killed the cat, but Rosemary was beginning to think the old saying actually meant the cat died from the curiosity itself.
She was dying to spy on her man, just the way he’d done to her.
So, on the next full moon, Rosemary did what she needed to do. She decided to follow the wolf pack to their hunting grounds. She knew it was not the best idea. Wolves have an outrageous sense of smell; he would know she was there even if she stayed hidden. But she had to see him. She missed him. And she missed Pen. And she wanted to know everything about the clan she was getting herself mixed up in.
What she found out by following them that night was that the wolves do not go to a specific hunting ground, per se. Instead, parked outside of the Wolfpack Tavern, she watched the menagerie of huge wolves pass by the far end of the alley, one after another. She’d tried to prepare herself for it, but the dark, shadowy figures made her blood run cold. Not with revulsion, but fear and wonder.
There was nothing she could do but follow on foot.
Up and down the side streets and alleyways she followed the wolves, doing her best to keep her distance. The group was led by a large, silvery gray wolf, which seemed older and seemed to know exactly where they were all headed.
Rosemary prepared herself to see her future husband feast on rats and garbage, but as they approached a more populated neighborhood, that was not what she saw.
Unlike her panther clan, the wolf pack split up. At first, Rosemary did not know which one to follow. She closed her eyes and breathed in until she recognized the scent. The coal-black one had similar traits as the silvery-black one. It had to be Ash. Even in human form, Rosemary had the cat-like ability to travel lightly and not be seen. She only prayed they didn’t smell her. Fortunately, the black wolf seemed entirely focused on food, and food alone. They wound their ways through the shadows of the city, carefully avoiding the back alley eateries and pocket courtyards the city was known for. The black wolf stopped when he reached a simple, nondescript metal door in one particular dank alley. He scratched once, and after a few moments, the door opened.
Rosemary had to cover her mouth. The wolves are going to eat that human? I have to do something! But what? Cause a distraction? Yes, yes! Better to provoke the wolf to come running after her than to let him … wait … what is happening?
The answer to all these questions came in the form of a porterhouse steak, bloody. The fight or flight feeling dissipated, but Rosemary still trembled in fear that the ravenous wolf might take that man’s arm off. “There you go, Scraps. Some asshole sent that one back to the kitchen, said it was overcooked. Can you believe people? ‘Least someone’s enjoying it.”
To her astonishment, this man in a kitchen uniform did not seem at all terrified by this canine—not a dog, but a true, outsized wolf. He had named him. He had named him the kind of name you give to a mutt from the animal shelter.
She watched as her wolf devoured the meat, even receiving a few scratches behind the ear from the man. He then proceeded to lick off the man’s fingers for good measure before padding off down the alleyway, on to the next meal.
Gobsmacked, she followed behind once all humans were clear of the alleyway. When she caught up with her beast, she found him at the spot where she should have guessed he would go all along—his father’s chicken joint.
Rosemary made the mistake of watching from an entire city block away, peaking around the corner next to the back exit of one of the seedier bars in this part of town. She realized this too late. By the time the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, someone — someone Normal, reeking of bottom-shelf booze, and twice her size — was towering over her, backing her up against the damp brick wall.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing back here by yourself?”
Rosemary, more peeved than afraid, lifted her chin. “None of your business. You can move along now.” She studied his predatory face, eyes soupy from too much to drink, but still assessing her body. He leaned in, exhaling his bourbon all over her. She whispered a warning. “You should go. Now. My boyfriend will tear you a new asshole if he sees you.”
The man looked up and down the alleyway, and she followed his eyes to where Ash was helping himself to a bucket of chicken. All that was visible in the lamplights was a raised fluffy tail. Could have been a common stray from where they stood. “I don’t see any boyfriend. I suppose next you’re going to tell me he’s a linebacker.”
Rosemary shook her head, carefully deciding what to do next. She could invoke her daddy, but that would mean little to someone like this, who looked like a tourist. She knew what the solution
was. She had to call on the cat. One powerful swipe of her claws could scare him away. She had to be careful, though. If she so much as made a peep, she would summon the wolf. Apart from that, he would sense her pheromones nearby as soon as he had a full enough belly. She was about to issue another warning when the stranger grabbed both her wrists and pinned them above her head against the wall. She let out a loud yelp, automatically. That was all it took.
What happened next was so fast, she barely had time to register the grisliest incident she had ever witnessed in person. It was all fangs, fur, snarls, and blood. The air crackled with the adrenaline of the wolf.
The man was on the ground, howling in pain and shock. Ash had the grip of a pit bull at the man’s throat, and he would have killed him if Rosemary had not reflexively screamed, causing a couple of bouncers to come rushing outside. Shouting. Someone calling 9-1-1. Someone yelling about calling animal control. More people spilling outside. Women screaming. The man on the ground gasping for breath and holding his throat.
Rosemary stumbled away from the scene and ran around the corner of the building to catch her breath. The wolf had sprung away from his victim, but then paused and locked his ice-blue eyes on hers when he reached the corner where she stood.
She recalled what he had told him. That she wouldn’t like the wolf. That he would not clearly remember what he had done while he was shifted. But this moment was different. It was only a flash, but she saw recognition in those eyes. He knew her.
Chapter Thirteen
Ash
He knocked on her door until his knuckles were raw.
“Baby let me in, we need to talk.”
She didn’t answer.
The wolf had tormented him all night after the attack. Not because of the injuries Ash had caused. That asshole who thought he could put his hands on Rosemary? He would live. No, the wolf was tormented because he had recognized her. The human inside could see her, and now that he had shifted back into his human form in the early morning hours, he remembered every detail.
