Chasing Tail (Paranormal Shapeshifter Werelion Romance) (Quick & Furry Book 1)

by Celia Kyle

Penelope let those words sink into her, let them crawl through her blood and along her veins, let them creep into her bones, and felt them flick something deep inside her. It stroked the certainty in her heart that he was her mate. The belief that Marcus was her mate despite what they’d been told. Was he really?

  Her cat answered for her with a resounding roar. It knew the truth, and it clawed aside her human’s worries and concerns. Her hint of hesitation, her sliver of doubt, gave the beast a chance to rush forward. It assured her that Marcus belonged to them, he was theirs and no other’s, and it was time they got their shit together and went and got him.

  “He’s mine.”

  “Yes.”

  The cat pushed forward, shoving the human parts of her to the background as it stole control of her two-footed form. Its rush burned away the alcohol in her veins, clearing her mind of the liquid’s cloud. She rolled to her feet, body prepped and primed and aching for her mate. It wasn’t a question. “Marcus Tolson, North American Alpha, is mine. And it’s time he accepted it.”

  Her hands ached, and she allowed even more of the feline to push forward, her nails transforming to sharp claws. Her gums throbbed and then her fangs descended pricking her lower lip. The lioness’ strength that she always brushed aside was in full force as she embraced her dominant urges.

  “Whoa.” Jennifer’s gaze moved over her from head to toe. “This whole angry look is kinda sexy. If I swung your way, I’d be all over you.”

  Shaking her head, Penelope plucked the half-full glass from her best friend’s grip and snagged the remaining bottle of wine as well. “Come on, let’s get you sobered up a little, and then you can tell me where to find Marcus. Your brother may have interfered once, but I’ll be damned if it happens again.”

  Jennifer pushed to her feet, body swaying slightly, and she studied Penelope carefully. “I know you’ve always been strong and just disregarded that part of you, but since Marcus is your mate, that means you’re actually a really, really strong lion. Stronger than any of us.” Jennifer hiccupped. “Like, I bet if you snarled a little, you could even get Justin to roll over and bare his belly.” Her best friend jumped in place and released an excited squeal. “Ooh, say you’ll do it, say you’ll do it!”

  The idea had merit, but Penelope had something to accomplish first. Mainly, making Marcus Tolson hers and begging him to do the same in return. With any luck, it wouldn’t require any bloodshed. Or at least, not a lot.

  “We’ll discuss it on the way. Where can we find them all?” Because she had no doubt Marcus and Justin didn’t go alone to question the witch. Or rather, her relative.

  Her best friend paused in her excited bouncing. “Oh. They’re at your house.”

  Penelope’s house. Or rather the place she’d lived until she was forced out. True, it still remained in her name, but she hadn’t been there in more years than she could count. It held so many memories… None she wanted to keep.

  Sensing her disquiet, Jennifer grasped Penelope’s hand and twined their fingers. “You can do it, Pen. It’s just a house.”

  Sure, it was just the house. Penelope didn’t tell Jennifer it wasn’t just the house. It was hell. A hell that currently held her ticket to heaven.

  “Besides,” Jennifer continued, “if we don’t get there before Justin introduces her to Marcus, there’s no telling what will happen. Angry alphas aren’t necessarily understanding alphas and Marcus has plenty to be angry about if he believes my brother. Justin has already poisoned his mind against you and the witch. What’s going to happen to her if a furious Marcus gets to her first?”

  She’ll be torn to shreds.

  “Dammit,” she snarled. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Two

  Marcus would rip off the head of the next lion who spoke to him. Hell, the next person, lion or human, who spoke to him would die. His inner cat was in full agreement. The animal was agitated and anxious to tear into everyone in the room. Each time the air conditioner kicked on, each time someone came near, he was assaulted with different scents. Males and females, musk and perfume, sweat and earth… They surrounded him in the cloying room.

  His skin itched, his fur rippling through his flesh only to disappear once again. Each wave he banished proved just how strong his lion was becoming as the seconds passed. It would slide fur free of his pores, and just as quickly Marcus would regain control and the light dusting of gold would vanish. He was the North American Alpha, the strongest lion on the continent. He didn’t have the luxury of losing control. When his animal snatched the human’s power, there was no telling what would be left in his wake. The way he felt that moment, he knew it would be a trail of blood and gore.

  Mainly because everyone in the vicinity was attempting to keep him from one single, luscious female.

  Penelope Little. She was tiny compared to him, short and compact with generous curves that had cradled him so sweetly. She was a handful and then some, built for him from head to toe. It was as if God himself crept into Marcus’ brain and discovered what he viewed as the ideal woman.

  Yes, the average lioness was lithe and lean, but that wasn’t what turned on Marcus. He liked the softness of a curved female, the ways she molded to his hard body, and the way her form contrasted so heavily against his. He had enough hardness in his day-to-day life. Sometimes a male just needed a daily dose of sweetness to make it from one day to the next.

  With him that was doubly important. He battled his near indestructible lion on a daily basis, fought it to prove his dominance over every being he came across. But with her in his arms that need and unshakable desire was blunted.

  For the first time in his life, he could breathe and relax without the fear of harming someone. Hell, he hadn’t killed Justin Palmer, had he? The pre-Penelope Marcus would have ripped the head off the male for interrupting him before returning to the woman he’d held so close.

  Instead, he’d been the ultimate asshole and removed his touch. Yes, he’d hidden her from Palmer’s gaze, but the second a sliver of doubt assaulted him, he left her to survive on her own.

  Since when do I listen to anyone else? I’m the North American motherfucking Alpha.

  Voices layered over voices, males and females whirling together until he couldn’t discern one from the next. No, it wasn’t them that kept his mind from settling, it was his animal and his body screaming for Penelope that kept him from focusing. Even now, hours later, he was rock hard and anxious to slide into her warmth and wetness, and eventually her heart.

  Oh, he knew and understood what everyone told him; a witch had cast a spell on him, making him feel as if Penelope belonged to him. But… He couldn’t shake the feeling they were wrong. It wasn’t just his behavior in the library. It was so much more.

  It was that “more” that fueled his unwavering desire to travel across country. His unending drive to head south. His refusal to go anywhere but the small town of Ryland…

  Unable to stand another moment in anyone’s presence, he pushed to his feet. The fluid move drew everyone’s attention and silence immediately fell over the room. The house, the pride den, was large. Especially considering the size of the small group in this tiny southern town, but it wasn’t big enough for him. He could still smell Penelope on his skin, refusing a shower after he’d arrived at the den, but the flavors in the room were overpowering her natural aromas. His beast needed to smell her in her purest form. In order to do that, he needed to be away… Away from here… Away from everyone.

  “Alpha?” Palmer was the first to risk speaking to him.

  Surprising. It seemed the local alpha had no sense of self-preservation. If he had, he wouldn’t have said a word directly to Marcus. Even Marcus’ own guard detail had remained silent from the moment they’d left the library. After so many years, the men were sensitive to his moods.

  “Can I get you something?” The local alpha tried again.

  Marcus carefully, slowly, turned his golden gaze to the large male. Large, but not larger than Marcus.
He wasn’t meaner or deadlier than him either. He would really, really like to release some of that deadliness right about now.

  Without a word, Marcus spun on his heel and moved to the front door. His steps were silent over the hardwood, even his boots not daring to make a noise on the solid surface.

  At the moment, he was pure predator, pure animal, pure unadulterated rage. There was a scramble behind him, shuffles of the room’s occupants struggling to their feet. The immediate sound of a low grunt from someone told him his guards had done their jobs.

  They’d obviously knocked back a lion and kept them from chasing after Marcus. No one would follow him, no one would dare. Not when the males in his entourage explained that Marcus would destroy the next person who spoke in his presence. His lion would allow for nothing less. Whether he was battling a witch’s spell or the natural desire for his true mate, he couldn’t be trusted at the moment.

  He burst from the house, shoving the front door wide, and the moment he was free he breathed deeply. He drew in the clean scents of the country air, sucking it into his body, and he sighed when his beast relaxed the tiniest bit. Some of the tension thrumming in his veins vanished with the nature surrounding him. This was where his lion belonged, where all the lions belonged. Nature, trees, grasses, live prey, and open plains to run.

  Did his mate enjoy these acres as much as Marcus’ own animal? He didn’t doubt it. She wouldn’t be a true match for him if she didn’t and he hoped she wouldn’t mind leaving it all behind.

  They’d address the problem if she was a match. Marcus shook his head, still unable to accept the alpha’s assertions that a witch held so much power over him.

  He yanked his shirt from his body, letting it drop to the ground. There, he could breathe again. Breathe in her scent that lingered on his skin. She’d touched and stroked him, whimpering and whining as her tongue slid over his skin. Growling when her teeth nipped his flesh. He shuddered, the memory of that small sting shooting through his blood.

  The low squeak and then heavy thump of boots on the front porch reached him and it was immediately followed by the familiar scent of his best friend and captain of his guard. The male could have his own pride, or even act as Marcus’ Beta, but the lion constantly refused.

  “I get enough tail just following you around. Why the fuck do I gotta take on some title when I already get everything I need, and all I gotta do is save your ass once in a while?”

  With each new breath, Penelope’s aroma was overrun by Lincoln’s until Marcus was ready to cut the male to shreds. His body called for Penelope, thickness rock hard and primed to fill her, and his friend’s presence was destroying his mate’s lingering flavors. Dammit, he’d come outside to be alone, to revel in what was left of his mate on his body.

  He spun in place, a snarl on his lips, and bared his fangs at Lincoln. Instead of cowering, or even flinching beneath Marcus’ fury, the male simply leaned against a porch support post and crossed his ankles.

  “Got that out of the way, now?” Lincoln drawled.

  Marcus merely narrowed his eyes and glared at his best friend. “What do you want?”

  The other man shrugged. “Just want to know what we’re going to do next.”

  He closed his eyes, coaxing his lion away from the front of his mind so he could think for a moment. Think without the cloud of driving need and desperation for one particular curvy female. He was the North American Alpha for a reason, and it wasn’t merely because he could kick everyone else’s ass. He was also analytical, intelligent, and operated with a calm that was out of reach for the average lion. Not that his current behavior was an example of that ability.

  “I don’t trust Palmer.” Marcus wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what caused him to form that opinion. It wasn’t as if the local alpha had done anything specific to mislead him. Or had he?

  The low growl that emanated from within the house told him the man heard Marcus’ words. He mentally shrugged. He hoped he wouldn’t have to kick the idiot lion’s ass, but if he did, he did. He wasn’t insulting the man—not much anyway—but he was a damn good judge of character and behavior. There was something about this Justin Palmer… Something about the male and Penelope.

  “…a mistake that would ruin the rest of your life.”

  Now, why would an alpha say that about one of his own lions? If anything, Marcus mating one of Justin’s pride would benefit every cat in the town. And yet it would somehow ruin Marcus’ life?

  He wasn’t buying it. Now that some of his desire for Penelope was easing back and he could think clearly, he realized he needed to have a claw-to-claw conversation with the male.

  Marcus took a deep, calming breath, allowing his lion to savor one last taste of Penelope’s scent. He released it with a long sigh and then focused his mind on the problem in front of him. Particularly the local alpha’s beliefs and how he’d come to those conclusions.

  “I want to talk to Palmer and the witch. Together. Now.”

  Lincoln pushed away from the post and rose to his full height. “All right then.”

  Marcus remained in place, ignoring the snarls and hisses that came from within the home. His men would do their job quickly and efficiently. He wouldn’t have long to wait, and within thirty seconds he had one almost trembling alpha standing before him. Oh, he had to respect the male for his attempt at remaining strong and tall beneath the weight of Marcus’ anger, but it didn’t change the fact that Marcus would get his way.

  He reached for Palmer and wrapped his hand around the back of the male’s neck, yanking him forward until he walked at Marcus’ side toward the waiting vehicle. “You’re going to give Lincoln, here, directions to where we can find the witch. And then we’re all going to have a chat.”

  “A-a-alpha… do you think—”

  “Really not a good idea to ask questions at this point,” Lincoln inserted smoothly, which saved Marcus from having to sink his claws into the male’s neck.

  Hell, Marcus might not have even stopped there. Especially once the lion realized Palmer’s blood would drive away what remained of Penelope’s flavors on his skin and that was unforgivable as far as the cat was concerned.

  It took moments for them to climb into the nearest SUV, the rest of Marcus’ group piling into others, and then they were on their way. The local alpha’s voice trembled as he gave directions, and Marcus imagined Palmer was finally understanding his position—one of a lion suffering beneath the North American Alpha’s displeasure.

  “Go through the gates at the end of the road,” Palmer swallowed hard, the action audible in the quiet confines of the SUV. “And then it’s another five hundred yards down that dirt road.” The local alpha shot Marcus a brief glance. “She’s confined to the land at the moment. Entering her domain puts you at risk, Alpha.”

  “I understand.” Marcus held on to his rage by a thread. The closer they got to this mysterious witch, the more certain he became that Justin Palmer was wrong, and Penelope Little was very, very right. For him.

  They rounded the last bend, emerging from the untamed trees that filled their vision, and the home before him nearly stole his breath. With its wide wraparound porch and tall pillars, it looked as if it had been plucked out of history, a southern plantation house that begged to be filled by a family.

  Damn, if that thought wasn’t proof enough that he’d found his mate, he wasn’t sure what else could drive the thought home. Marcus Tolson? A family? He hadn’t ever craved one, but with Penelope on the brain…

  The moment the vehicle rolled to a stop, Marcus was free of the SUV and striding toward the woman on the porch who seemed to be waiting for their arrival. He cataloged her appearance in a brief sweep, noting the features were similar to the woman he thought of as his mate.

  “Alpha!” Palmer shouted for him, but that yell was quickly followed by an echoing snarled and then a grunt.

  Lincoln was having too much fun taking out his frustration on the local alpha.

  Marcus bounde
d up the steps, only slowing when he stood mere feet from the woman. He sensed her magic, the power within her seeming to glow and emanate from her skin.

  “Mistress,” he tilted his head in acknowledgment, but not submission. He recognized her abilities but refused to be cowed or frightened by them.

  “Georgie will do.” She gave him a rueful smile. “So, what did the idiot tell you?”

  “That you’re a witch. The question is what kind.”

  That smile turned from rueful to teasing. “Didn’t your mama ever tell you that asking a woman what kind of witch she is, is akin to asking a woman her age?” She winked at him.

  “Okay,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “If you won’t tell me that, tell me if there’s a reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now. Interfering with a lion’s mating, especially an alpha’s, is a death offense.”

  “I didn’t realize helping you find your mate was interfering,” she mused. “I could take her away from you.” She snapped her fingers. “Like that.”

  Marcus growled. “So you’re saying she’s mine?”

  “I’m saying—”

  She was cut off by the loud, obnoxious honk of an approaching vehicle, the small car bursting into the clearing surrounding the house in a storm of dust and flying rocks. The very second the vehicle stopped, its driver was free and racing over the ground. He had an instant vision of her luscious body, an image of a stripping and then nude Penelope seared in his brain. At least until she was suddenly replaced by a roaring, running lioness.

  Her anger, her fury, struck him a split second before her furious body tackled him to the ground. He should be furious, raging and destroying the woman who’d broken past his guards and pounced with such ease. She had dominance over him, her teeth a hair’s breadth from his vulnerable throat and her saliva dripped onto his skin.

  Yes, he should shift his hands into deadly claws and shove her from his body before taking her to the porch’s worn flooring. And yet, his only thought was that she smelled so damned good. Her sweetness, her seductive flavors, beckoned his animal forward. But not to do battle. No, to mate and claim her before anyone could interrupt them once again.