Black Cougar Curse

by Tess MacKall

  Black Cougar Curse

  Tess MacKall & Natalie Dae

  Deep in the mountain wilderness, Lucia Chavez searches for closure to her father’s death, and the mythical black cougar he sought. Drop-dead sexy Cherokee Indian guide Sam Starr knows more than he’s telling. After he saves Lucia from being swept away in a mudslide, the bath they both need turns steamy indeed. Sam and Lucia are living proof that near-death experiences can bring two people closer together—they can’t keep their hands off each other.

  Amidst danger and mystery, Sam and Lucia explore the lust that burns between them. If their desire gets any stronger it could bring down the mountains. Ancient secrets hold the key to their unbridled sexual need. Was their passion written in the stars?

  One man. One woman. A curse that binds them—and could tear them apart.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Black Cougar Curse

  ISBN 9781419931062

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Black Cougar Curse Copyright © 2011 Tess MacKall & Natalie Dae

  Edited by Jillian Bell

  Cover art by Dar Albert

  Electronic book publication January 2011

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Black Cougar Curse

  Tess MacKall & Natalie Dae

  Prologue

  1822

  Lavani splashed through the autumn-chilled stream and onto the grassy bank where she lay in the sun dreaming about the blue-eye. For two moons the man Daniel had stayed with their tribe, trading beads and fine cloth. The sight of him riding atop a big black horse toward their village that first day had taken her breath and pushed an odd tremble through her body to settle low into her belly. Her father, an elder of their tribe, had come to call Daniel “friend” to the Cherokee and had invited him to stay and share meals, to learn their ways.

  She smiled, the vision of Daniel offering her a wildflower last night making its way into her thoughts. The words he had whispered were so tender and loving. He wanted her and she wanted him. Nothing could keep them apart.

  In his early days among them, when he spoke to her, Lavani lost her voice and skittered away like a frightened doe. But she had not been able to stop herself from stealing looks at him whenever he was near. With the passing of time, she had grown bolder in her study of him, sometimes catching him watching her too. One day he asked if she would walk with him. Had her father known, she would have been punished, but the blue-eyed man with flaxen hair coaxed feelings from her she did not understand so she risked her father’s anger.

  Remembering their nights of forbidden kisses, Lavani touched herself. She plucked at her nipples but imagined it was Daniel’s mouth on her breasts instead of her fingers. Drops of water trailed down her body, tickling her skin. The sun beamed warm and bright as she lay there, her hand now between her legs. She closed her eyes and brought Daniel’s face to mind.

  He knelt before her and buried his face within the hidden passage to her womanhood. Lavani could not be still beneath the caress of his tongue and he held her by her hips to quiet her movement. Sounds came from her lips she had never made before and joined the familiar cries of the night animals.

  As she envisioned Daniel pleasuring her, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of the meadow, flowed over her naked body. She breathed in the fragrance of sun-drenched wheat ready for harvest and the abundant wildflowers that grew among the stalks. Heat blossomed inside her and snatched her breath, lifting her high into the heavenly feeling taking over her body.

  She squeezed her thighs together and Daniel’s face vanished into wisps of clouds soaring above. With her fingers still deep within the wetness of her guarded place, she rested until the beating in her chest slowed and her breathing calmed. Her eyelids fluttered open and she saw the sun beginning to drop just below the mountain peaks, the fiery river chasing over her flesh a rival to its warmth. The day was done and the men would return, anxious for rest and food.

  While the men of her tribe had hunted, Daniel had stayed behind and every day they had walked together. As time passed, their need to be with each other had grown stronger and they met by the stream nightly. His kisses sang to her deep within her heart and her body had wanted more. Daniel promised that when the time was right he would ask for her hand.

  Lavani had tried to explain that her father would never allow their union. That she was promised to Manohar, grandson to the Didanawisgi, their medicine man. But Daniel would not listen, saying they would run away together if necessary. To Lavani, it all seemed so hopeless, but in Daniel’s arms she believed. Then something wonderful happened and she knew that no matter what she would leave her people and go with Daniel to live in the white man’s world.

  Their kisses had brought about a fever within her—within them both. Passion overwhelmed them. They had walked deep into the woods and Daniel had laid her down on a blanket of moss and touched her in places she knew he should not, but her body and heart would not allow her to say no. Naked beneath the moon with the wind blowing across their bodies, they had loved one another, joining with all they had to give.

  As she rushed along the path, her heart leapt. She would see Daniel riding into the village with the other men—and she would see him by the stream later that night too.

  Three mornings ago, her father had asked Daniel to join in the hunt and each day he had left her. It saddened her not to be with him, but also cheered her that her father had asked him to go. To hunt with the men of her tribe was an honor for Daniel, an acceptance. If only she could find a way to undo her father’s promise to Manohar. Shuddering, she thought back to how Manohar had looked at her the day before when she had returned from the stream. It was as though he knew her every thought. Fire had leapt from his eyes and he had patted his loins and smiled at her. The thought of being touched by him brought shivers deeper than any winter cold to cover her skin. Sickened, she had turned from him and run to tell her friend, Indulala. Why was he not hunting with the others? Had he stayed behind to taunt her?

  And he had not hunted again today.

  Lavani tried to forget about Manohar, She was too happy with Daniel to dwell on her intended. Daniel would find a way to take her from here and Indulala had promised to help them. They would make plans to leave soon. She would miss her family and Indulala, but she and Daniel would have their own family to love. In the distance, she heard the pounding of horse hooves. Smiling, she skipped along the path back to the village, her heart filled with love and joy.

  * * * * *

  While the blue-eye hunted with the others, Manohar had
made his way back to the village in search of Lavani. He had found her that first morning bathing in the stream. The sun touching her skin had started a fire in his loins he could not quench. She was his promised one and he should have the right to take her, but he would not chance angering her father.

  For two days he had watched her. Today he had arrived ahead of her and crouched in the shadows of the tall trees. It was not long before he caught the sound of her softly humming. She came out of the thick brush and walked to the stream’s edge where she shed her clothing, slowly entering the rushing water. Her hands curved and brought the wetness to her bosom. He held his breath as the clear drops trailed over her body.

  A short time later she rose from the stream’s rippling blue veil, her body shining. Of slender form, her breasts high and proud, her womanhood covered with a thick patch of black hair, her beauty struck him with the force of thunder. He gripped his manhood with his fingers and stroked its thickness as she lay down in the grass and brought her hands to her special place.

  She should not touch herself that way. Pleasure should only be found in his arms. Who had taught her such forbidden things? It was as he thought. Why he had stayed behind and watched her. The blue-eye had touched her. Touched what was his. Anger rose in his chest and Manohar swore the white man would die for dishonoring him.

  And Lavani would be his once more—but not as his mate. Their people would shun her and she would be used by him whenever he desired, belong to him. Not even her father could save her. Stirred by the thought of having her night after night, he jerked his length harder and faster as he watched her hips lift from the ground and sway. Moans drifted to him and tore through the haze of his bitterness as he spilled his seed on the forest floor. He rested against a tree as she dressed then hurried down the path to the village.

  Tomorrow he would hunt with the blue-eye. And the man who had taken what was his would not return.

  * * * * *

  Smoke curled upward, flakes of fire drifting in the piney breeze as heavy mountain mist poured from the jagged shadows and hovered above the clearing. White Owl watched his grandson, Manohar, who stood at the forest’s edge. It pained the old medicine man to see the face of someone he loved so filled with fear. Yet through pride and the need to avenge the wrong that Manohar believed had come to him, Manohar had bound himself to this place, this night, and to the curse he’d asked White Owl to place on Lavani.

  White Owl sat cross-legged by the fire, his chant ripening in the wind, the sound an eerie echo swallowed by the white fog. He stared at the vision within the fire, his own reflection glaring back at him, whispering words only he understood. His time at the feet of the place of blue smoke, what the white man called the Great Blue Ridge, had been marked well. Deep lines carved into his face told of his journey. He was at the time for his ending, but because of what he was about to do, he would not be given the reward of his rest, not called to the home of the spirits. Instead, he would dwell in this place for many moons to come.

  From the murky veil, a shrill cry pierced the night. Flames streaked upward from the crackling logs and spit red cinders into the black sky. Manohar came closer and clutched a dagger at his side, his moccasined feet planted firmly apart.

  Lavani’s tortured face floated within the smoke. Manohar staggered, his eyes wide. White Owl shook the turtle-shell rattler and continued to chant. Lavani had cursed herself by shunning Manohar’s love, driving Manohar’s need for revenge. Alone, the maiden’s body twisted as she struggled to give life to the blue-eye’s son. A son who would bear the mark of Manohar’s revenge until the end of time and beyond.

  The wind shifted, wailed, and White Owl thrust the rattle northward, to the south, east then west. Ancient words he did not want to utter came from his lips, but the honor of his grandson must be avenged this night. Dying into a gentle breeze, the smoky air swirled and wrapped around them. Manohar moved even closer to the fire and White Owl nodded for him to sit.

  “Your actions this night, son of my son, will change the lives of many. Are you prepared to carry the burden of this curse? For as you curse others so shall you be cursed.”

  “My soul will live many lives and I will be aware of this. What comes about this night is not a curse.” Manohar gazed at the old man, a look of challenge on his face.

  “A soul learns as it passes from one body to another, one time to another. Your soul will be aware of the past while the souls of those you curse will not. Your soul will never learn, never know love.” White Owl’s words ended in a pleading tone. Why could he not make his grandson understand? Souls passed through life searching for love, the only reason for being. What Manohar wanted would leave him without love. And he would be aware that love would never find him and be condemned to suffer through life without knowing the peace and contentment love brought.

  “Love.” Manohar spat at the ground. “Love has wronged me. She has wronged me. I took the blue-eye from her and I will take him once more. His child must not live. It is my will and you must do as I ask to avenge the dishonor that has come to me—your grandson.”

  White Owl pondered telling his grandson that by giving him what he wanted, White Owl himself would be cursed. If Manohar loved him as much as White Owl loved his grandson, would Manohar put a stop to this curse if he knew what fate awaited his grandfather? White Owl looked deeply into Manohar’s eyes. What he saw frightened him. Dark spirits dwelled there and he could not bear to hear his grandson’s answer. He would rather suffer endless moons at the foot of the mountains than know the truth.

  With a heavy sigh, White Owl tossed gray powder into the fire and the flames arrowed into the air, seeking out the dark spirits. Glowing ash floated around them and fell to the ground. The circle where they sat rumbled beneath them. White Owl’s gaze strayed to Manohar who sat there, trembling, looking afraid, but it was clear that Manohar’s pride would not end what should be forgiven.

  “Love decides, Manohar. Always,” White Owl shouted at his grandson. “You will do well to remember this during your journey through these long years ahead.”

  “Love decides nothing, old one. I decide!”

  White Owl passed the turtle-shell rattle from one hand to the other, chanting and weaving his body, sending the dark spirits on their way.

  * * * * *

  A rustling noise brought Lavani’s attention to the opening in the cold hut. No one had come to her asi to lay a fire for the birth of her child. Her only friend, Indulala, crawled inside, kneeled next to Lavani and took her hand. Tears slid from Lavani’s eyes as she stared at Indulala’s face. No more would they look upon each other with the promise of another sunrise. Lavani’s mother had dreamt of this day, foretelling the birth of Lavani’s son—a son who would walk between two worlds.

  And of Lavani’s passing when he entered this one.

  In a weak, anguished voice, she whispered to Indulala, “When my son comes, you must take him to the place beyond the hidden waterfall and find my mother’s brother.” She heaved in a breath, preparing herself for what was to come. “Give him my son. Beg him to care for him as his own.”

  Lavani squeezed Indulala’s hand in hopes of gaining her friend’s promise. With Indulala’s quiet oath, spoken only with the closing of her eyes, Lavani smiled. She flattened her head to the fur pallet and invited visions of Daniel to strengthen her. His blue eyes swam before her, the sound of his laughter soothing her fears.

  Choking back tears, Lavani sat up and spread her legs. She curled forward and pushed. Pain seared her body as her son’s head breached her womb and he reached for life. The domed house trembled. Flames leapt from the once-dark hearth at the center of the small hut.

  It was time.

  Lavani turned to Indulala and screamed at her friend to save her son. Indulala buried her hands between Lavani’s legs and ripped the small, bloody form from her body. Taking a knife from her belt, she sliced the thread of life joining mother and son.

  Smoke unfurled from the hearth and stretched t
hrough the hut. A low moan whispered from the gray cloud and the air heated. On her knees with the tiny life swaddled in her buckskin skirt, Indulala backed out of the asi. One last time Lavani’s gaze met hers as the fire spewed wings of flame.

  The dark spirits had come and Lavani would give herself to them in sacrifice for her son.

  With her last breath, Lavani shut her eyes and held her arms out to Daniel, there, waiting in the summer meadow’s tall green grass.

  * * * * *

  A tear rolled down White Owl’s cheek. He looked to Manohar. An aura of blackness surrounded his grandson. The dark spirits controlled his heart. Manohar would live until those he’d cursed found love. Each body his soul inhabited would bear the mark of that vengeance, that curse, and he would be denied love.

  Lavani’s child would grow into a strong man, but the curse he bore would leave him alone, a heart forever wandering until the spirits were pacified and allowed him to find his mate. She too would wander, love always out of reach until they found each other.

  As he watched Manohar now, he came to understand what a mistake he had made. He had been blinded by his love for the little boy who once hunted with him. Blinded by his own love and loneliness. He would give anything to take that little boy’s hand once more and walk into the night with him, never looking back. What had happened to that happy child? When had the dark spirits touched his soul and moved him to this night?

  There was no love in Manohar’s eyes. Had there ever been?

  “The dark spirits live within you now, son of my son.”

  “I feel no different, old one. And Lavani is no more. I will not have to look at her and see the blue-eye’s child in her arms. They are gone from this earth.”

  “The dark spirits will only go so far, Manohar. They must leave something to chance,” White Owl said.