Jagger didn’t sense any enemies close at hand, but the powerful feeling that something tragic had occurred hung thick in the humid jungle air. His lungs inhaled it deeply and his mouth hung open as he panted hard in an effort to hold himself from rushing headlong into something that could prove to be very dangerous.
Silently he slipped through the abundant flora and fauna that covered the jungle floor, his stare transfixed directly in front of him where the mess of foliage thinned, and the obvious clearing could be seen.
He stopped, just at the edge, and felt his heart begin to beat erratically once more, as a camp of some sort had come into view. There were two tents, or rather what was left of them; the contents were scattered in disarray, adding to the chaos he’d sensed earlier.
He was inundated with the scents of several jaguar shifters, and his mouth watered as they mingled with the overlying odor of death. It permeated the entire area, and quickly his eyes scanned the immediate vicinity, trying to locate its source.
He could see nothing.
Cautiously Jagger crept forward, his powerful frame low to the ground, his great head moving about as his eyes took in every single detail of the mess in front of him. Dark stains along the edges of a ruined tent drew his attention, and cautiously he moved closer, his nose to the ground as tension hung low in his belly.
It was definitely blood, but he felt a huge wave of relief when he realized it didn’t belong to the woman he was seeking.
It wasn’t human, that he was sure of, and he shook his head slightly as he once more tried to puzzle out the subtle differences. It wasn’t something he’d ever come across before.
The camp appeared deserted, and for a few seconds the black jaguar contemplated his next move. There were too many scents intermingled with the sickly stench of death, and it was hard for him to filter out the singular trace he was searching for.
He continued forward and when he spied the body of a downed jaguar, his massive frame froze, as the putrid odor of violence clung to the carcass.
Something terrible had happened here, and his gut roiled at the leftover feelings of terror and pain that shrouded the encampment like a fine mist of misery. His need to find the mystery woman was paramount, and his senses went on high alert.
He had just made it to the far end of the clearing when a sound caught at him, and he whipped his head toward the thick jungle that lined the perimeter opposite him.
Adrenaline rifled through his veins and he loped forward until he cleared the immediate perimeter and plunged into the thick interior once more.
The jungle quieted, and he growled softly as the pangs of frustration threatened to spill out. He slowed his heart rate and concentrated, all of his senses open to any movement whatsoever. He edged toward a rotted mess of downed trees, and when he came abreast of it, his heart took off like a rocket as his body shot a second load of adrenaline hard through his veins.
A struggle had recently occurred and the smell of fear and rage was heavy in the air. He sniffed at a large dark stain that was obviously blood and his mouth lolled open as he tried to force the bitterness of it from his nasal passages.
He studied the ground, and from the looks of things, three different warriors had attacked a single person, a male judging by the footprints.
Jagger followed them, but when they disappeared, he held back, clearly puzzled. It was as if the person who’d been attacked had vanished into thin air. A feeling of unease washed over him, and for the first time in a long time, he was truly stumped. He couldn’t make sense of the clues left in the jungle.
Some serious shit had gone down here recently, bad mojo all around. He had a feeling black magick was at play, maybe heavily involved.
He barked once, low and soft. The need to find the blond woman gnawed at his gut with a burn that wouldn’t go away. But was it worth it? Should he not just turn around and hightail it back to his cave and forget he ever laid eyes on her?
Any other smart man probably would, but as the late afternoon sun began to wane, Jagger knew he wasn’t out here playing it smart. He was out here because he needed to be. He knew that his self-imposed exile was about to end. He could feel it, deep in his bones, and surprisingly, he was okay with it.
His gut clenched in excitement. In fact, he was more than okay with it.
Should he run away? Move on?
The questions flew into his mind and were discarded equally as fast. He snarled and flexed the powerful muscles in his body.
He was a Castille and would not leave a lone woman out here in the jungle at the mercy of the pack of shifters he’d come across. Indeed the blood that pounded through his body literally sang the warrior chant.
He realized then that he’d been too long from the fight. He craved it like food, and as a loud growl erupted from deep within his chest, he welcomed the chance to meet it headlong.
Fortunately for the great cat, the battle was about to land in his lap, as a scream that could wake the dead sliced through the quiet jungle and a flash of blond streaked at him from his right.
He had no time to react. He took the hit, cushioning the body that had lain so close to him only hours earlier.
They rolled together into the warm moist earth, and Jagger twisted in an effort to avoid the deadly looking machete that was aimed, straight and true, toward his groin. It wasn’t easy. The satchel was still entwined along his body and he immediately called the mist to him, his great paws doing their best to avoid slashing the soft, creamy skin that was now trapped between them.
The little hellion was swearing viscously, and he felt the burn of metal through flesh as she successfully nicked his left leg. His growl erupted into a full-blown curse as his human form shimmered and the fur fell from his limbs to reveal a long expanse of muscled limbs.
“Jesus Christ, hold still.”
She tried to bite his forearm and Jagger felt his patience wear thin, as her leg aimed for the delicate area between his legs.
There was no way in hell he’d let her get anywhere near his balls again.
He grunted as he tossed her onto her back, and was on top of her in less than a second, her arms splayed out above her head and held captive by his own.
She struggled and he was surprised at the strength she possessed, but he tried not to hurt her as he looked down into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. They were huge, startling in their clarity, as if cut from a sapphire.
And they were pissed.
Christ, pissed didn’t even come close to describing the fury that shadowed the beautiful depths a much darker shade. A fury that only deepened as the seconds ticked by.
He studied her in silence, noticing for the first time the pain that clung to her features as well. Her emotions were laid bare for him and they caught at his gut. Slowly he relaxed his grip on her arms and felt a tug of admiration as her eyes flashed resentment and she continued to struggle against him.
He had to admit, the woman had spunk. But spunk wouldn’t keep her safe from the jaguars that were hot on her trail.
“You’re going to have to kill me, asshole. I’ll never let you take me again.”
The words slipped from her tongue with a snarl. Jagger kept the smile he felt inside from manifesting itself. He somehow knew that would piss her off even more.
Instead he remained quiet and took his time studying her features before his gaze traveled down to where her chest heaved against the thin fabric of a faded T-shirt. A vision of her straining breasts, plastered to the white tank top she’d worn the previous night, danced in front of his eyes and he tore his gaze away, needing a moment to collect his thoughts.
When his eyes met hers once more he felt a perverse pleasure as her heart rate increased with rapid precision, and her cheeks flushed pink as she took notice of his nakedness, pressed so intimately against her body.
He couldn’t help himself and a sly grin wavered around the corners of his mouth, but the rush of heat that flooded his dick soon took the smile away.
&nb
sp; “You’re the shifter from last night.” Her eyes narrowed and while still ringed with fear, they seemed confused.
Jagger paused and then nodded. “Yeah, and uh, you’re welcome for saving your ass.” His face darkened slightly as he continued. “And thanks for the knock in the nuts this morning, nothing like a shot to the balls to really wake you up.”
The woman beneath him again struggled and cursed loudly, and Jagger applied just enough pressure with his powerful thighs and arms to keep her still. He didn’t trust her one bit, and ignored the slight wince that crossed her delicate features.
He didn’t understand any of what was going on, but he knew one thing for sure. The feel of her beneath him was pulling at all sorts of long-repressed desires and his skin burned hot with them.
The more pressure he applied, the more she struggled, and after a few moments she exploded as frustration and fury ate at her.
“What the fuck are you waiting for? Just do it and get it over with. It’s not like you left anything for me to come back to.”
The misery in her voice gave him pause, and Jagger relented. He leaned back and jumped to his feet, pulling her body along, up with him. They stood close together, her blond head just reaching the top of his shoulder. Her sweet scent clung to his nostrils and he fought the urge to bury his nose in the wild curtain of hair that fell well past her shoulders.
What was it about this woman that called to him so?
He felt her body tremble and a small gasp escaped from between her lips as she spied the satchel that was strung across his powerful shoulders. He watched as her eyes studied the tattoos that were so proudly on display, and the muscles in his abs tightened as her gaze slid over his body. “You’re not DaCosta.”
She inhaled raggedly and he felt a bolt of electricity shoot through him as her eyes slowly traveled up and met his. She’d successfully hidden her emotions in the blue depths, but the telltale blush of pink still stained her golden cheeks.
She was like a goddess straight from an island of sunshine, all tawny, lush curves, golden skin, and liquid-gold hair.
Her mention of the jaguar shifters rudely brought his fantasies to a halt. The woman was in danger, inviting the wrath of one of the most ruthless warrior clans that existed and he didn’t even know her name.
Seemed he should, considering he was about to plunge headlong into another war with the DaCostas, and he didn’t even know why. He only knew that this woman needed his help and protection.
And he was willing to give it. Hell, every cell in his body was electrified at the thought of battle.
“Who are you?”
Once more Jagger inhaled her sweet scent as his question hung in the air between them.
She ignored it, and tried to grab the satchel away from him.
He easily kept it from her, and frowned as once more her trace signature felt foreign to him. She wasn’t wholly human, that was for sure. But what the hell was she?
“What are you?”
That question caught her off guard, and she stilled, her eyebrows rose incredulously.
“What kind of game is this now?” she huffed, and laughed harshly as she repeated his question: “What am I? You are joking, right?”
Her surprise soon sobered as she continued to study him, and for the first time he felt her relax somewhat.
“Why didn’t you kill me when you had the chance?”
“Kill you? Christ, killing you was the last thing on my mind—in case you didn’t notice.”
Her gaze dropped down the length of his naked body and rested briefly on his already tightening cock. Jagger bit his lip and forced his body to calm. He was starting to feel like a yo-yo and this woman was pulling his string.
Her blue eyes again met his and the force of the emotions that colored them nearly took his breath away.
“You don’t know what I am.” She moved away, her eyes never leaving the precious satchel that he still held. “How can that be?”
“Look, I don’t give a shit what you are.” He frowned and his voice deepened. “The DaCostas have been a pain in my ass for a long time, and by the looks of it, I’m the only thing standing between you and about twenty jaguar warriors.”
Worry furled her brow and he felt like groaning as her tongue absently licked the luscious red of her lips. “They must have attacked when I was exploring the cave yesterday.” Frantically her gaze wandered the ruined camp and she whispered softly, “If they’ve killed Finn …”
Her voice trailed off and he could see she was upset. “They had a prisoner; he looked pretty roughed up but was alive.”
“Was he a tall blond man?”
The look of yearning in her eyes left a bad taste in his mouth and Jagger swallowed hard before answering.
“No, it was an older gentleman.”
Her audible sigh of relief was short lived; she quickly ran to what was left of a large tent. She reemerged a few moments later and tossed a worn pair of jeans, boots, and T-shirt at him.
“These belong to Finn. You’re about the same height and build.”
He raised his eyebrows but accepted the clothes nonetheless. The small flesh wound she’d inflicted on the inside of his thigh was already healing, and he caught a blush forming as they locked eyes. She looked away, muttering, “don’t expect an apology.”
Once he was fully clothed, he stood silently watching her while she gathered up a few more things from the scattered remains of the camp. Jagger could tell she was trying to act nonchalant, but it was obvious she was dying to get her hands on the satchel and all of the maps and detailed notes that were safe inside.
When she was done, he held out the satchel, his dark green eyes holding hers with a direct stare.
“Do you want this?”
He could feel her heartbeat and the rush of blood begin to churn throughout her system, and it only confirmed what he was starting to suspect. The notes held information that the DaCostas were willing to kill for.
She paused as if afraid to speak and jumped when he continued speaking. “I’ll give it to you, on one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“I need a name, I want to know what the hell you are, and for the record you still owe me.”
Her blue eyes flashed in anger and she very nearly spat at him. “Owe you? What the hell do I owe you?”
Jagger smiled softly. “If we’re gonna be working together I’m thinking we need to start this operation even Stevens.” He watched her eyes narrow as he moved toward her, and admired her spunk when she refused to move.
“You sound like we’re fifth graders out playing some stupid game at recess.” Her gaze fell to his lips and he smiled.
“It may be stupid, but I’m thinking my earlier injury requires a bit of payback.” Her eyes lowered and his grin widened even more.
Her voice was husky. “What is it that you wanted?”
“Let me show you,” he murmured, and without hesitation claimed the mouth that had been taunting him, calling to him, awakening a hunger that was so deep it was almost painful.
He groaned softly into her sweetness, and deep inside, the cat growled in pleasure.
Chapter 4
The feel of his lips against hers was like the sweetest sin imaginable. What the hell was she doing? Skye opened her mouth in protest and his tongue immediately plunged inside. To say she was shocked would have been an absolute understatement. She was stunned. Horrified, actually. And that was because the sensations that slid over her body sent shivers spinning out from deep inside, until her flesh broke out in a mess of goose bumps.
She liked the feel of his mouth skating across hers. A lot.
Reality had taken a vacation.
An alien had invaded her body.
Surely that was the reason she had lost control of her faculties. If she were in control, there was no way she would let the jaguar get this close to her. Again.
And man, he was close. His scent was potent, pure, raw and full of power. To make m
atters worse, he tasted even better than he smelled. She fought against the waves of pleasure that sprang to life, and against her will, she felt her insides melt at each pass of his tongue.
For a second, everything faded away, and there was nothing but his hardness, his incredible maleness, and a raw need that clawed at her in a most painful way.
But then, like a slap in the face, reality came crashing through the dense fog that had clouded her judgment, and she fought him, her fingers digging into his forearms in an effort to push him away. She could feel his reluctance and sighed raggedly when his arms left her body and his mouth slowly fell from her lips.
What the hell was wrong with her? Skye knew that she should be running as fast and as hard as she could in the other direction.
Jaguars bad—eagles good; plain and simple, they were her enemy. That’s what she had grown up believing.
It had been her mantra for as long as she could remember. But, there was something about this particular jaguar that gave her pause. And that was rare.
This tall, dark, sexy specimen … what was it about him that changed all of that? She couldn’t explain it, even if she tried. There was an intangible feeling that he could be trusted, and truth be told, it’s not like she had any other options at this point.
The camp had been attacked. Sam was a prisoner, and Finn? A sob caught in her throat as she thought of her brother. She could only hope and pray that Finn had managed to escape unharmed and at this very moment was hidden in the undergrowth—waiting and biding his time.
She took a few more moments to catch her breath and watched him move away, his hands still holding fast to the satchel.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
At her words the jaguar warrior raised an eyebrow and smiled rakishly. “I believe I need a name first.”
She narrowed her eyes, not liking the little game he was playing, but she answered him, the word falling from her lips softly. “Skye.”
“Does Skye have a last name?”
His Darkest Embrace Page 4
