First Beast

by Faye Avalon

  To protect his pack, he must guard his heart.

  Lost on Bodmin Moor, twelve-year-old Talia Summers was cold, hurt and terrified, before being saved by a black panther that materialized out of the night.

  Years later, Talia returns to the moor in search of that magnificent beast, but instead finds a man leading a clan of shape shifters. Yet the connection she remembers is strangely absent. She despairs of ever finding it again—until a stranger steps into her shower.

  Back to claim his rightful place, Caleb McLeod’s fierce attraction to his half-brother’s female is tempered by the fact she’s a human. Worse, a journalist. He’ll not have his people’s survival threatened by a human female who continually pushes the boundaries of pack rules.

  His solution? Mate with her. Control her. And if his brother doesn’t like it, they’ll simply have to share. For now.

  But suspicion and lies threaten the growing bond between Talia and Caleb, and the past has a way of catching up. A way of destroying the bridge built between two worlds…between two hearts.

  Warning: A red-hot panther shifter with an over-the-top possessive streak, a human reporter trying desperately to retain her independence, and enough sexual heat to set fire to the moors of Cornwall.

  First Beast

  Faye Avalon

  Dedication

  For Laurie Ryan and Lavada Dee. You ladies rock!

  And for AJ, the wonderful leader of my own pack.

  Prologue

  Bodmin Moor, England. Thirteen years ago.

  She’d peed her pants. After holding on for what seemed like hours, she’d finally given in. Her chilled legs shook as warmth trickled toward the rough grass and, unable to fight the scary realization that she was lost, the final thread of her courage snapped, and she cried.

  Her father was going to be so angry. “Don’t go wandering off,” he’d warned. “We don’t want to spend valuable time having to search for you.” But the moor was so beautiful and she had picked her way so carefully she’d thought it would be easy to find her way back.

  Held spellbound by the vast open wilderness, with its rock castles and gently curving landscape, it had been easy to imagine King Arthur’s knights thundering across the land on their way back to Camelot. Maybe even battles being fought for land, for honor, or for the hand of a fair maiden. It was all so romantic.

  It seemed anything but romantic now. The wind picked up, and strange noises came through the bushes. Talia took a deep breath, trying desperately to retrace her steps to the campsite. The early spring light was fading fast and her lightweight jacket gave no protection from the biting cold. If only she had put on jeans that morning… But the sun had been warm and after much pleading, her father had agreed to the new shorts Grandmother had bought her especially for the camping trip to Cornwall.

  It had been so exciting. She’d only ever been out of London on two occasions in the whole of her twelve years. Once to Canterbury with a school trip and the other time to Oxford, where her older brother, Ben, was attending university.

  Her father was so proud that Ben had followed in his footsteps. They were both clever, and sensible. Ben would never have wandered off and gotten lost on the moor. Talia often imagined what a disappointment she must be to her father.

  It started to rain. The water trickled down her face, down her bare legs. The mist became thicker, the light giving way to thunderclouds which were closing in at an alarming rate due to the mounting wind. She didn’t even try and wipe her tears now, but simply let them blend with the rain as it fell onto her cheeks.

  She stumbled over something and fell headfirst into a rain-soaked gorse bush. Scrambling up, she felt the pull in her left knee and rubbed her wet palm over it. Blood oozed from an angry graze, which only intensified her tears.

  When they were younger, her brother used to call her a crybaby. She could almost hear his voice calling across the moor.

  Crybaby. Crybaby. Crybaby.

  Frantically, Talia searched her surroundings, but all she saw was mist creeping silently across the desolate moor, its gray fingers skulking closer as if coming just for her. She hurried toward a tumble of rocks, nettles stinging her legs and mud squelching underfoot. All the while, the wind moaned and bushes rustled. Her whole body shook with fear and cold.

  Perhaps if she cried out, someone would hear. Her father and brother had to be searching for her. But when she opened her mouth to scream, the only sound was a strangled gasp, the kind that accompanied nightmares. She tried to catch her breath, but her throat closed tight, her chest aching with effort. She wrapped her arms around herself, desperately seeking comfort. She wanted her grandmother. Oh please, she wanted her grandmother.

  It was dark now, the mist so dense it was hard to see anything more than a few feet away. The cloud-covered glow of the moon only added to the eerie atmosphere.

  She tried desperately not to think about the stories her brother had told about the goblins, ghosts and changelings that inhabited the moor, and the giants who liked to throw the large granite stones at each other during the night.

  Unable to stop the tales from taking root in her mind, she stumbled around the rocks, desperately looking for somewhere to hide. She felt a gap and pushed through, tripping over a stone in her haste to find shelter. She fell into a bush but scrambled quickly out, shaking her head so that her hair slipped from its ponytail.

  Curling against the wet leaves of the bush, she dug herself in as the creepy sounds of the moor intensified, along with the cold fear that shivered through her. She’d never been quite so afraid in her life.

  Oh please, she wanted her grandmother so badly. With her eyes squeezed shut, she made herself think about something good. If she concentrated hard enough, she would be able to get away from this terror. She would find herself back in her bed at home, aware that this had all been a horrible dream.

  Talia squeezed her eyes tighter. All she had to do was believe and it would happen. Her grandmother had said that anything was possible if you believed it hard enough, if you wanted it hard enough.

  Except it hadn’t worked when her mother had been dying, had it? She had prayed so hard, wanted it so badly, yet her mother had died anyway.

  She started crying again, her sobs blending with the sounds of the moor—the sounds of animals, of unknown creatures who roamed across the barren wilderness. There was a wailing, the sound so bereft it made her heart squeeze. Until she realized it was coming from her.

  Clamping her hand over her mouth, Talia tried to silence herself. She had to be quiet. Who knew what desperate creatures roamed the moor at night? They would hear her, would trace her whereabouts.

  She pushed deeper in the dense bush, scrunching the leaves around her in a futile attempt to hide herself, to protect herself. If she could just make it until morning, her father would find her and everything would be all right.

  All she had to do was be quiet and be brave.

  Except she didn’t feel brave. She felt scared and desperately alone.

  When another sound came to her, she froze. A soft padding against the hardened earth. It wasn’t in the distance, it was close. So close she held her breath. There was a rustle of bushes, a scratch at the dirt, and…breathing. A kind of snuffled breathing. Talia stared out toward the gap and her heart stopped when a black, sleek cat came into view.

  New fear, new terror drove into her heart. She had seen such a creature before. In the wildlife book they studied at school. A panther. It was a panther. But panthers came from South America, didn’t they? From the Amazon?

  She hadn’t ever wanted to visit the Amazon. The creatures that lived there were so terrifying. Loads of creep
y crawlies. Spiders, snakes and big cats, like the one currently prowling a few feet away.

  She held her breath as the creature paced just beyond the entrance to the gap. When her chest squeezed and her heart banged against her chest, she dragged in oxygen on a sob.

  The big cat’s head snapped around and for one terrifying moment, its green eyes clashed with hers. A scream pushed into her throat, but she made herself keep still. They stared at each other for long moments, until the big cat turned and slowly, steadfastly stalked away.

  Her breathing came in fast, rapid gasps now, her limbs shaking uncontrollably, and she collapsed back against the density of the bush. Her whole body went limp, seeming to heighten the throbbing in her knee and the banging in her chest. Talia hugged her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, trying to remember the prayer they said at church.

  If only she’d concentrated more in church, instead of mouthing conversations with her friends while her father wasn’t looking.

  Oh, what was that prayer?

  She squeezed her eyes shut and tried desperately to concentrate so she could push away the fear that still poked its clammy fingers into her flesh.

  If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

  Oh, please.

  She didn’t want to die.

  Please don’t let me die.

  If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

  She mentally recited that one line over and over, making the words in her head louder with each new sound that emanated from the moor.

  How long Talia repeated the words, she couldn’t say, but soon they became slurred in her head and her eyes grew heavy.

  It was so cold…so dark…

  She jerked awake, jumping to a sitting position with the knowledge that she’d fallen asleep. It wasn’t an option. She had to keep watch, to make sure that cat didn’t return to maul and kill her.

  But while it wasn’t safe to fall asleep, perhaps it was okay to get a little more comfortable. Huddling down, she lay on her side and drew her knees up to her chest. Cradling her head with her hands, she started again to repeat her prayer. Over and over… Over and over…

  If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

  He could smell her fear. As potent as the smell of the moor that called to him. It filled his nostrils, crept into his lungs.

  He’d stared into her eyes and seen the fear there too. Huge, blue eyes glistening with the sheen of her tears. He’d seen the trembling of her limbs, long and bare and wet from the rain that fell steadily now.

  He didn’t mind the rain. Preferred it, in truth, to the powdery dust that more often clogged his lungs.

  He’d tracked her for almost thirty minutes, watching from a covert distance as she traipsed across the moor. She was too young to be a solitary hiker or camper, and had likely become separated from her group.

  From his clandestine viewpoint fifty feet away from her hideout, he heard her quiet sobs. Of all the gifts that came with his unique ability, it was the heightening of his senses he valued the most. That and being able to run like the wind in solitude and seclusion.

  His father told him he must learn to temper this new freedom, that to live two lives would take some adjustment. Maybe so, but it wouldn’t stop him from experimenting while he could. At sixteen, he had much to learn and experience. Soon, his time would come and he would need to leave the moor and fulfill his destiny as a warrior. He didn’t want to dwell on that.

  Her sobs quieted, but still he sensed her fear, and the cold that kept her body trembling. He felt the pull of her, struggled with the need to be near her, to protect her. He didn’t know why he should feel this so intensely. Was it all part of his transition? Learning to control his newfound state? But with each moment, he felt the draw to her increase.

  He padded forward, taking care not to alert her to his presence. At the entrance to her hiding place, he saw her and froze on the spot. Something fired through him. He didn’t know what it was—had never in his sixteen years experienced such a feeling. It was like an invisible cord shot from his center directly toward hers.

  As if she felt it too, her head shot up and she looked directly into his eyes again. At first he thought she would scream, but then her eyes became so huge they were pools of intense blue. She stared back, her fingers squeezing against her knees so tightly the knuckles of her small hands stood out. He saw blood oozing from the cut in her knee. Her breath came in short, rapid gasps and he wished for the faculty of speech to comfort her, to assure her he wasn’t a threat. But this particular gift was not available to him in his current state, so all he could do was remain rooted to the spot and try and convey with his eyes that he meant her no harm.

  Looking up into the vivid green gaze of the big black cat again, Talia wanted to scream. But then something very strange happened. She didn’t feel afraid anymore. Her breathing calmed and she unclenched her hands from around her knees.

  He came closer, the wet ground silent beneath his large paws. Discomfort flashed through her, but she felt certain that he meant her no harm. The panther came through the gap and into the clearing, standing just a couple of feet away from her now. His eyes stared into hers, gleaming in the measly light of the clouded moon.

  Instinctively, she pushed back, and although the overwhelming fear had left her, she still sensed the panther’s power. The beast prowled toward her, dipping his head slightly as if to imply that he came in peace. Inches from her, he stopped, his compelling eyes reaching deep inside her and pulling at some part of herself she didn’t recognize. The panther raised one large paw and held it in front of her chest. She looked down, taking in a shuddering breath before lifting her own trembling hand and tentatively touching the cat’s proffered paw. It felt soft, damp, yet warm and silky. Talia slid her fingers lightly along its silken fur, taking care to avoid touching the sharp claws.

  The panther lowered his paw and moved forward. He sniffed her leg, his whiskers brushing against her damp flesh. Lightly, he drew his tongue along the graze on her knee, licking the wound clean.

  She watched, spellbound, until lightning ripped across the sky. The ground lit, outlining the huge beast. She jerked back, breaking the connection, and, face-to-face with the reality of a deadly predator within inches of her, screamed. The cat reared back, then turned and stalked away. As the sky exploded, she covered her head with her hands and squeezed her eyes shut against the barrage of thunder and lightning that erupted above her.

  She curled into a ball and dropped to her side, her arms covering her head in the vain hope of keeping out the storm that raged. The ground felt sodden, the wet bracken pressed against her flesh, while small stones and other debris dug into her side.

  She wished for her grandmother again, and longed for the soft feathery lightness of the big iron-posted feather bed with its deep, squashy pillows and huge comforting duvet. The loving warmth of her grandmother’s arms cradling her while she fell asleep, telling her everything would be all right…

  Everything would be all right…

  Floating on the edges of slumber, Talia felt something soft cradling her now. It enveloped her shoulders, pressed gently against her back, sent heat through her chilled muscles. Warm breath, soft and steady, brushed her cheek. Had her wish been granted? Had she somehow slipped out of a nightmare to awaken in her grandmother’s arms?

  In that state between sleep and wakefulness, she snuggled. Until thunder exploded overhead. Her eyes shot open, her body stiffening. Wide awake, she trembled at the realization that the warmth hadn’t been the product of a dream, her comfort not thanks to deep pillows and a thick duvet.

  Lightning split the sky, and she dared to glance back. Her breath froze and cold terror sliced through her limbs.

  While she’d slept, the panther had returned and spread his bulk against her.


  She opened her mouth to scream, every instinct driving her to get away from him. To run. But he purred, his paw brushing gently against her shoulder before traveling down to settle over her grazed knee.

  Her gaze locked with his, and in his gleaming eyes, Talia saw something tender and…kind. She managed to breathe again, the fear that had tightened her body dissipating beneath the big cat’s watchful stare. He shifted a little, as if attempting to shelter her from the elements as best he could, and reassuring her that he meant only to help.

  After several moments, during which they simply stared at each other, she turned and settled back against him. She felt his heartbeat—the reassuring thump…thump…thump—and tried to slow hers to match. Soon, her eyelids fluttered closed and she pushed back, trying to get closer, searching for more of the panther’s warmth. She snuggled, comforted by its presence and knowing that he would remain with her through the night.

  She was safe. The big cat would guard her. Shelter her. Protect her.

  Until morning came and her father found her.

  Until then, she was completely safe.

  Chapter One

  Cornwall, England. Present Day

  Talia pushed back hard against the mattress, her fingers clutching desperately for purchase and grasping the sheet beside her. Her legs were splayed open, her knees bent and her heels digging into the springy foam beneath.

  The mouth working between her legs was hot and determined. The tongue pushing inside her was hard, wet and relentless.

  Oh, damn it to hell and back, but her husband was so bloody good at this.

  With his next determined prod, Talia came, bucking her hips, pushing down hard on her heels, her breasts thrusting up toward the ceiling. She arched from the bed as the orgasm went on…and on…and on.

  Oh yes, her husband was so very good at oral sex.

  He was pretty good at penetrative sex too, she thought, watching him prowl up her body, a feral smile on his face and an equally wild gleam in his eyes.