Snow Leopard's Lady

by Zoe Chant

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Snow Leopard's Lady

  A note from Zoe Chant

  More Paranormal Romance by Zoe Chant

  Zoe on Audio

  If you love Zoe Chant, you’ll also love these books!

  The Snow Leopard’s Mate | by Zoe Chant | Special Sneak Preview

  Snow Leopard’s Lady

  Veteran Shifters, #1

  By Zoe Chant

  Copyright Zoe Chant 2017

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  Snow Leopard's Lady

  A note from Zoe Chant

  More Paranormal Romance by Zoe Chant

  Zoe on Audio

  If you love Zoe Chant, you’ll also love these books!

  The Snow Leopard’s Mate | by Zoe Chant | Special Sneak Preview

  Prologue

  Lieutenant Colonel Wilson Hanes finished reading the latest funding application, scrawled his signature at the bottom, and set it in his outbox. He resisted the urge to glance at the clock, and picked up the next forty-page document from the pile.

  There was no reason to be counting the minutes until quitting time. There were plenty of officers out there who would kill for a cushy position like his, promoted out of combat to a comfortable office in Washington, DC.

  Working in an air-conditioned American building, with a Starbucks just on the corner (and another one two blocks away in the opposite direction)—well, it beat the pants off a Humvee in the Iraqi desert.

  And Wilson truly didn’t miss any of his overseas postings. He didn’t miss the violence, the fear, the tense boredom, or the smell of unwashed Marines. He sure as hell didn’t miss losing men in combat.

  But being confined to an office all day, with nowhere to shift and run, his snow leopard kept down to an annoyed presence in his chest, and nothing but small print and big meetings to take up his time...

  It would be nice if there’d been a middle ground.

  But this was where he’d been posted, and this was where he’d stay until he was promoted to a different office, or he finally decided to retire.

  Of course, what he’d do, once he left the Corps, was a big, blank mystery. More than once, he’d considered taking the plunge—and then he’d imagined settling into his pension like other retired officers he’d met, picking up golf and buying some overcompensating fancy car. He’d shuddered and set the idea firmly aside.

  Better to be useful, even if it wasn’t the job he’d choose. Who ever got a job they’d choose, anyway? He’d stay faithful to the Marines as long as it was right for the Corps.

  Wilson settled in to the next hour of reading. He’d let himself woolgather long enough.

  After he scrawled his signature once more, it was time to turn to his email. That could take longer than the physical paper, most days. He was expecting some intense electronic debates about the new SR-1472 forms today. In his opinion, some officers shouldn’t be allowed access to a Reply All button.

  But to his surprise, the first message in his inbox wasn’t a fifty-email thread about paperwork.

  Instead, it was titled wedding invitation, and it was from a cwestland@nps.gov.

  Wilson stared at it for a long moment, and then clicked.

  Hello, sir, the email began.

  I know it’s been a long time. I hope you’re well. I’m getting married in April, and I’d be honored if you’d attend.

  Even if you can’t make it, I want you to know how grateful I am for the job at Glacier. It truly changed my life.

  Sincerely,

  Cal Westland

  Wilson read the email twice, then clicked on the attachment. It was an official invitation for the wedding between Westland and a Lillian Lowell.

  Cal Westland. Wilson hadn’t laid eyes on his old gunnery sergeant in over ten years.

  He’d always felt a bond with Cal, because they were the same shifter type—both snow leopards. It was tough in the desert heat for a snow leopard, and he’d kept a surreptitious eye on his gunny, knowing that Westland wouldn’t admit to any discomfort until it started seriously interfering with his ability to perform his duty.

  When Westland had retired, after long, hard years of desert combat, Wilson had thought that the man deserved to go somewhere a snow leopard would appreciate. He’d put in a good word with the National Park Service, where he had some connections, and gotten the man set up at Glacier.

  He’d checked up on him a few times over the years, and always learned that Cal was doing a top-notch job as a ranger—he’d even been promoted to lead the ranger contingent at Glacier a couple of years ago. Wilson had felt some quiet pride at that, though he hadn’t been the least surprised.

  And now Cal Westland was getting married. And inviting his old Marine acquaintances, apparently.

  Wilson checked the wedding’s address. Sure enough, it was at Glacier.

  He thought about getting out of Washington. Out into the mountains, where a leopard could stretch his legs and get his feet dirty.

  He could feel his leopard perk up in his chest with a yearning growl. The thought of mountains and trees awakened a deep hunger in it—and in Wilson.

  Besides, it’d be good to see Westland again, meet his new wife. Maybe some of his other Marines would show up, too.

  Wilson hit Reply. This was one email that he didn’t want to delay answering.

  “I had a great time, Mom. See you tomorrow, okay?” Mavis’ daughter hugged her goodbye.

  “Me too, honey.” Mavis held Nina close for a long minute, then reluctantly let her go. “See you at the dinner.”

  Nina headed off down the street, waving over her shoulder. Mavis watched her go, and then once she’d turned the corner, sighed and turned to unlock the door to her building.

  Mavis was so grateful for every moment she got to spend with her daughter. They’d only been back in contact for eight months, after years of separation, and Mavis treasured every second of it.

  Mavis’ husband had kicked Nina out of the house when she was sixteen, and what followed had been the worst years of Mavis’ life.

  She’d spent them certain that Nina was gone forever. That she was suffering terribly—or maybe even that she’d been killed. Daryl had kicked Nina out because she was a shapeshifter, and Mavis had had no idea what sort of creature her daughter was, if there were others like her, and if those others might be dangerous, or violent. She wasn’t sure if Nina was safe and happy with her own kind, or lost and alone—or if she was even alive.

  Now, Mavis had finally left Daryl, and moved here to live by Glacier National Park, where many shifters made their home. Nina had a whole pack of young snow leopards to call her family, and Mavis got to see her several times a week, sometimes even every day.

  It was all she could possibly have asked for.

  Mavis climbed the creaking stairs up to her small third-floor apartment. The building was an old converted house, and it showed its age and shoddy workmanship in many different ways—the uncertain plumbing, the thin walls, the cold in winter.

  But leaving the city had meant taking a big, big pay cut. Mavis worked as a freelance financial consultant, and she’d had to start over from scratch here in this small town, where there weren’t many people who needed her services. She worked remotely as much as she could, but her income was definitely less than it had been. And divorce was expensive.

  She did have some savings. But the uncertainty of her job, plus lawyers’ fees and the endless division of assets with Daryl, meant that she’d chosen the cheapest housing option that seemed reasonably clean and safe. She knew she might potentially have to rely on her tiny income for a while.

  Mavis hoped she’d get some
money for the house, at least, once everything was said and done, because she wanted to have something squirrelled away in case Nina ever needed help. Nina’s mate, Joel, had a good job as a national park ranger, and Nina worked hard as a waitress, but anything could come up and Mavis wanted to be there if it did.

  So she lived in this tiny set of rooms in the old house with thin walls and loud neighbors. And it was all right. She was happy to live anywhere close to her daughter.

  Mavis knew Nina worried about her being alone, not having many good friends in this small town, being single after so many years of marriage. And it was true that Mavis sometimes wondered what it would be like to have someone to come home to.

  But she had her daughter. And that was what mattered.

  And she’d see Nina tomorrow again, at the dinner that Cal and Lillian were throwing as a pre-wedding celebration, for close family and out-of-town guests. Mavis was looking forward to it. She liked the pack leader and his mate; they were both no-nonsense people with good heads on their shoulders, and Cal at least was closer to Mavis’ age than to Nina’s, which was a nice thing sometimes.

  She’d enjoyed what time she’d spent around them. But of course, they were caught up in each other, in their wedding, and in the baby they had on the way. Lillian was five months pregnant, and the expression on Cal’s face whenever he looked at her...that was a man that was very much in love.

  Mavis wondered sometimes if she’d ever seen an expression like that on Daryl’s face. She couldn’t remember. And maybe that was for the best.

  It was all right. She’d tried marriage, and it certainly hadn’t worked out the way she’d wanted. If she’d picked a different man, a better man, and adopted Nina with him instead of with Daryl, things wouldn’t have been nearly so terrible.

  That was surely a sign that Mavis should stay out of the romance game from here on out, whatever Nina thought. She’d go to Cal and Lillian’s wedding, and she’d smile at the newlyweds and their happy anticipation of their new life together, and she’d dance silly dances with her daughter.

  That was more than enough to ask for, after what she’d caused with her mistakes. She would be satisfied with that.

  ***

  Wilson stepped through the door of the diner. He was strangely apprehensive, though he told himself that he was being ridiculous. He’d commanded Westland in combat, and any other Marines who were invited would likely be former subordinates, too. And everyone else who would be there were ordinary civilians.

  Still, he found himself straightening his posture as he came inside.

  The little restaurant was crowded with people already. The invitation had said that the place was reserved for wedding guests only, but it seemed as though half the town was invited. Wilson cast his eyes about the room in a practiced reconnaissance, scanning for recognizable faces.

  He spotted Westland at the same time as his former gunny’s eyes lit on him. Westland broke into a smile, broader than any Wilson had ever seen on him.

  “Sir,” he said, coming up to shake Wilson’s hand. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too, Gunny,” Wilson said, with heartfelt sincerity. He gave the man a onceover. “You look like you’re still in fighting shape.”

  In point of fact, Westland looked healthy, happy, and—something more. Over and above the way his body was clearly still in condition, and the smile that seemed somehow incongruous on his face, there was an air about him. Some kind of...completeness. Contentment.

  Wilson guessed that that was what being in love was like.

  “Thank you, sir,” Westland was saying. “Let me introduce you to my mate, Lillian.”

  That explained it. Westland wasn’t just getting married. He’d found his true mate, something many shifters only ever dreamed about. Some people even dismissed the idea of mates as pure fiction, made up by dreamy-eyed lovers.

  Wilson believed in the idea of mates, but he’d never had any ambitions in that direction. He’d always been destined for the military, and stayed married to his career. And you didn’t meet many women in combat—or in the Pentagon, which in Wilson’s opinion was a shame. Sexism kept a lot of good minds and strong bodies out of the military, even these days.

  Which meant that Wilson had had hardly any contact with female shifters since joining up, so even if he’d been searching for a mate, he wouldn’t have found her.

  But Cal Westland had.

  A woman was coming over to Cal’s beckoning hand. Wilson estimated she was in her mid-thirties, elegant and graceful...and visibly pregnant. She held out a hand.

  “Congratulations to both of you,” Wilson said, shaking it. “This man is one of the best Marines I ever commanded. He’ll do right by you.”

  “Thank you, Colonel,” Lillian said with a lovely smile. “Cal has a lot of good things to say about you, as well. In fact, since you found him the job at Glacier, we’d never have met without you.”

  Cal was nodding. “Sir, this was the best possible place for me. At the time, and now. I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

  “Now, now,” Wilson said, “I just gave you the opportunity. What you made of it was up to you.”

  And it was the absolute least he could have done for a man who’d gone through so many years of danger and tedium all wrapped up together into a grueling package. Reliable non-coms were worth their weight in diamonds, and deserved to be rewarded with the equivalent.

  Just then, an older couple descended on the bride and groom, the woman saying, “Lillian, come here, you have to take care of—”

  “Mom, we’re talking to Cal’s old commanding officer,” Lillian interrupted.

  The mother of the bride turned a disdainful look on Wilson. Before she could deliver her opinion of that, which looked like it would be scathing, Wilson said, “I was just going to see about something to drink. We’ll catch up later.”

  “Sir,” Cal started, but Wilson shook his head, smiling, and extracted himself. He certainly didn’t want to overhear any private family conversations.

  He looked around the room. Most of the attendees seemed to be couples, which wasn’t a surprise—Wilson’s own invitation had included “and guest.” Weddings were the sort of events you brought a date to, even if you weren’t in a serious relationship.

  He did see one woman sitting by herself off to the side a bit, away from any of the groups of talking people. She was watching them with a fond smile that he immediately liked. She was about Wilson’s age, he judged, which put her above most of this younger crowd, with a classic beauty that was enhanced rather than marred by the streaks of silver in her hair.

  She stood out, somehow—and not only because she was one of the few African-American people he could see in the crowd of northern Montanans. He wondered how she knew the bride and groom, and if she was actually here alone, or if her date or family were simply off in the crowd somewhere.

  Then he was distracted by a call of, “Colonel!”

  He turned, and found himself facing four men who, alongside Westland, had brought a lot of good soldiers safely back from Iraq.

  “Well, if it isn’t Platoon Delta,” he said. “Turner, Gonzalez, Sanders, and Neal. You all been keeping busy since you left the Corps?”

  “Can’t speak for anyone else,” Sanders drawled, “but I sure have.”

  Neal snorted. “With the ladies, he means.”

  “You tell me when you finally get your first kiss, and I’ll explain the appeal,” Sanders retorted lazily.

  Wilson shook his head. They might be retired, but Marines never changed.

  ***

  Mavis hadn’t been to a wedding in a long, long time.

  Most of her friends back in the city had been married forever, and when Nina had still been at home, their kids had all been too young for the next round of weddings to start.

  And after Nina had disappeared, Mavis had sent her regrets to most events involving other people’s children. It had simply been too painful.


  But now that she was here, Mavis was remembering what made weddings so bittersweet.

  On the one hand, it was wonderful to see how happy everybody was. Cal and Lillian were so clearly in love; there was nothing in their eyes but each other. And the way they had the love and support of everyone in their community...it was a beautiful thing to see.

  But it also brought an ache to her chest.

  Mavis couldn’t help but think about her own wedding, her own marriage, and how it had gone so wrong. She’d been so happy on her wedding day, anticipating the long, full life that she and Daryl would have together...and it had come to a long, drawn-out, awful, bitter end. She’d thought she was marrying a good, kind man, and she’d been wrong.

  Now those memories were flooded with regret. Watching Cal and Lillian together, Mavis had been struck hard by the realization that she’d never have something like that.

  But that was a small-minded way to think. Their happiness didn’t take anything away from Mavis, after all, and it was petty to feel sad when it was such a joyous occasion.

  So, since she couldn’t force her emotions away, Mavis just watched Nina having a wonderful time with her own mate and her friends, laughing and eating appetizers and just generally enjoying herself.

  That was enough to make her forget about the ache, even if it didn’t quite go away.

  As the evening wore on, Mavis made herself get up and mingle, instead of just sitting by the sidelines like an old grandma.

  Which she wasn’t yet. Although the idea of Nina having a baby, of really being a grandmother, gave her a thrill of anticipation. Maybe someday.

  Still, though, Mavis was fifty, not eighty, and she could socialize just as well as the young people. She started moving through the crowd and saying hello.

  She knew most of the attendees, since the rehearsal dinner had mostly been for the pack and close family and friends. But she ended up introducing herself to a group of men she’d never seen before, clustered together in a corner.

  Goodness, they were enormous. Well over six feet, all of them, and with an air that suggested former military to Mavis.