She shrugged. “I never formed the mate bond with Miguel. When I was young and silly, I believed it would form, but after I didn’t conceive any cubs, Miguel started taking additional mates, who did have cubs. I had to battle to keep my place in the hierarchy, or he would have thrown me to his men to see what they could get on me, or he’d have had me killed. It became a struggle to live, every day. The day I let my place slip as top mate was the day I died.” Peigi let out her breath. “Now it’s over.”
Stuart let her sit quietly for a moment. In his career as a cop, he’d seen the look Peigi now wore on the faces of women from abusive marriages, after their husbands had been killed or imprisoned with no hope of parole. The women didn’t dance around in elation; they sat quietly, stunned, confused, unsure of what to do or where to go. Realization that they were free would hit them later. Many of them had grown so used to being told what to do every second of their lives that they were terrified of going it alone.
“Eric said he’d release all of you once you were settled in,” Stuart said. “That he wouldn’t make you his mates.”
Peigi nodded. “That’s what Nell told me.”
“Would you want to stay with Eric?” Stuart asked.
Peigi’s eyes flashed, the first fire he’d seen in her. “I’m thinking I don’t want to be with anyone. At all. Ever again.”
She leapt from her chair so fiercely that the heavy thing fell back, then she stepped from the porch and moved across the yard in long-legged strides, not looking at the playing cubs. She wore borrowed jeans that hugged her legs, and her now-clean tail of black hair bounced against a white blouse.
Stuart watched her for a time, as her swift walk turned to a restless jog. She was a fine-looking woman—for someone who could turn into a bear. Stuart quietly rose, left the porch, and followed her.
Iona Duncan pulled into her driveway after work, looking forward to unkinking her body and unwinding with mindless TV, or maybe digging into a good novel.
What she really wanted to do wound its way through her mind. Her wildcat wanted to come out and play, to feel the forest floor underneath her paws, to taste the wind.
Iona suppressed the wildcat with effort. She couldn’t keep driving up into the mountains without people getting suspicious, wondering what the hell she did up there. Even her mother was getting worried, and her mother and sister were the only ones in the world who knew what Iona truly was.
The wildcat wanted to come out, though. As Iona tried to unlock her front door, her fingers turned to claws, and she dropped the keys.
“Damn it.”
She bent to pick them up and yelped when a strong hand scooped them up for her.
“Shit, Eric.”
He was standing way too close, his scent and body heat making her wildcat shiver. His Collar glinted in the evening light. Eric shoved the key into the lock and opened the door. He kept unlocking doors for her, damn him.
Without invitation, Eric walked into Iona’s house and looked around, Shifter-style, to make sure nothing waited for them inside. He looked back and gave her a nod that it was all right to enter.
Iona strode to him. “Eric, you cannot come into my house.”
“I’m already in. Shut the door before your neighbors see you with a Shifter.”
Iona slammed the door and dumped her purse on the table in the foyer. The mirror above the table showed her black hair mussed, her blue eyes wide.
Eric had already moved to the back, into the kitchen, to pull down the blinds in there. “Nice place,” he said. “You own this?”“Of course I do,” Iona said, following him. “I bought it myself.”
His jade green eyes almost shone in the dim light. “Shifters aren’t allowed to own houses.”
“I know that. Why do you think I don’t want you going around telling people I’m half Shifter?”
Iona couldn’t have him here. Eric took up too much space, the tall, hard-bodied Shifter pushing her cozy kitchen into the background.
“What do you turn into?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your wildcat. What does it look like?”
The wildcat in question started to push its way out again. Iona fought it back. “Panther. Mostly.”
Now Eric was in front of her, hand scooping back her hair. “Black haired. With blue eyes?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to see it.” Eric leaned closer and inhaled her scent. “I’d like to see you.”
“Why?”
A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “I’d like to let my wildcat out to chase you, to tussle with you.” He nuzzled her. “Maybe more things, Iona.”
Heat swirled along every limb and settled low in her belly. “I don’t go wildcat in the house,” she said with difficulty. “I don’t want to break anything.”
“Where do you go, then?”
“Out in the mountains. I have a place.”
Eric’s nose touched her temple, followed by a brush of lips. “Next time, I’ll go with you.”
“No.”
“It’s too dangerous for you to go out alone. There are hunters looking for any excuse to shoot a Shifter. You need to stay safe.”
“I’d be safer if certain Felines didn’t come sniffing around my door.”
Another smile. Iona wished that Eric weren’t so tall. He enclosed her into his space, filled it with his warmth, his scent, his heat.