Claimed by her Cougar

by Felicity Heaton

  “Do you like it out here, in all this wilderness?” She didn’t take her eyes off the horizon. The sun was edging past a mountain now, a great jagged peak that had a dusting of snow clinging to it that turned gold in the evening light. “Do you not get lonely?”

  She would.

  It was beautiful, but it was so quiet.

  “I’m a solitary kind of guy.” His deep voice rolled over her, warming her as much as the beer. “Everyone who owns a cabin here is like that.”

  “They don’t live here year-round though, and I’m thinking you do.” She took another mouthful of beer to stop herself from looking at him as she wanted.

  He sighed, the sound more contentment than anger or dissatisfaction. “I like it here and I feel no need to leave.”

  He was silent for a minute.

  And then said something that resonated with her.

  “This is home.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Rath wasn’t sure why he was telling her anything about himself. It wasn’t as if he wanted to know anything about her, or whether it had any point when she would leave tomorrow and he would never see her again.

  But as Ivy sat beside him, her eyes on the sunset, swigging her beer, and started idly talking as if she was speaking to herself rather than him, he couldn’t help but listen to her.

  Found himself aching to know more about her.

  “I get that.” She smiled at the world. “I feel it too, you know? That connection with nature, that this place is a sort of home to me… like I belong here or something. It’s silly.”

  A part of himself whispered a dangerous question.

  What if it wasn’t silly, what if the reason he was so aware of her ran deeper than merely the spring affecting him or him finding her attractive?

  What if the reason she felt at home here in his territory ran deeper than her simply finding it beautiful, a world away from the cities and their fast pace of life?

  Rath didn’t want to contemplate the answer to that question, and Ivy mercifully started talking again, filling the silence and his mind with her words, drawing his focus away from the instincts she had awoken in him.

  “I hit a slump in my work last year.” She scowled at her beer and picked at the label. “I just couldn’t get my compositions right. They were lacking something. Or maybe it was me lacking something. I don’t know.”

  She sighed, a deep one that had him looking across at her because it spoke of hurt.

  “I was in a bad place for a while.” She lifted her head and fixed her eyes on the horizon again. “But I’ve taken some good shots of the grizzly bears and I’m beginning to feel like my old self again.”

  He could see the relief as it crossed her face, felt it in her as she tilted her head back and looked at the emerging stars.

  She breathed, “God, it’s beautiful here. I can see why you like it. You can’t really see the stars in the cities.”

  Rath tipped his head up. They were faint still. She was in for a surprise when the sun sank beyond the horizon and the sky darkened, and part of him was excited to see her reaction, wanted to keep her outside so she wouldn’t miss the show nature was going to put on for her tonight.

  He had seen it for decades, but it still moved him when he saw the Milky Way stretched above him, a billion stars forming a spine across the night sky.

  “My brothers tell me the same thing.” He swigged his beer, frowned when the bottle turned out to be empty, and brought his feet down and pushed onto them. He glanced down at her and waggled his bottle. “Another?”

  She drained the last of her beer like a pro and smiled as she held it out to him. “Definitely. I was always a beer girl rather than a wine one.”

  He could see that, and fuck, part of him found it charming that she had a little more country life than big city life in her, looked comfortable in practical clothing and drinking beer, getting muddy and breathing fresh air, rather than fancy dresses and high heels, and posh wine at grand parties.

  He took the empty from her and brushed past her, his leg skimming hers. An accident. Definitely an accident.

  Although the way she tensed and her pulse leaped had a shiver arcing up his leg and along his nerves, and a need to rub against her rising to the fore again.

  That was twice now.

  Twice he had brushed her and twice she had tensed, had reacted in a way that screamed she was interested in him.

  Gods, he had barely stopped himself from dropping his face to her throat and scenting her when he had been close to her at the river cabin earlier. The need to do it had been fierce, consuming, had driven him to press his nose to her smooth flesh and inhale her, branding her scent on his soul.

  Had filled him with an urge to lick her nape.

  That had startled him into backing off and pacing away from her before he could even consider why that need had arisen in him.

  A need reserved for when a male found his fated one.

  The mate who had been made for him.

  A true mate.

  He froze by the refrigerator and looked out of the window at Ivy.

  She couldn’t be that for him.

  He was just wound up by the season, on edge because of the gathering and her arrival, thrown off balance by her beauty when the urge to mate was strong in him.

  A groan tore from his lips as she ran her hands through her thick chestnut waves and stretched, pulling the tangled strands away from her neck, exposing her nape.

  Wasn’t going to happen.

  He shoved his head into the refrigerator to cool off and stared at the gutted fish he had hunted for her, the need to provide for her driving him to the river while she had bathed. Just as it had driven him to run her a bath and gather her enough water in case she wanted another or grew thirsty for something other than beer.

  Gods, he wanted her.

  He had thought he had built a barrier around his heart during his time at the river, one that would withstand her, but the moment she had emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair down and curling around her shoulders, that damned dark red t-shirt pulled tight over her ample breasts, a sparkle in her hazel eyes and her skin rosy from the heat of the bath, the wall had crumbled.

  She was beautiful. Fucking beautiful.

  And the fact she now smelled like him in a way, the scent of his bath products all over her, was playing merry hell with him.

  He wanted her to smell of him properly, ached with a need to rub his scent all over her and mark her as his.

  He growled as he grabbed two more bottles of beer and kicked the refrigerator door shut.

  Wasn’t going to happen.

  He needed her gone tomorrow, before any other cougar shifters arrived. He couldn’t have an unmated human female hanging around when fired up males were about to descend on the creek.

  Because he would probably end up killing them.

  Gods. He set the beers down on the counter and gripped it. The urge to fight would be too strong to resist, the thought of another male trying to claim her pushing him to react, to battle for dominance over her and assert himself as her male.

  He needed her gone before anyone arrived.

  He snarled at that, his claws lengthening in response to the idea of her leaving him.

  Rath stared down at them, shocked by the sight of them, by the ferocity of the need that rocked him to his soul.

  He breathed through it, lifted trembling hands from the counter and focused on opening the beers, on a small task that would keep his mind and hands occupied enough that he could shut down his feelings, these urges, and claw back some control.

  Because he was dangerous as he was now, liable to do something he might regret.

  Like revealing to Ivy that he was no ordinary man.

  When the beers were open, and his nails were normal again, he sucked down a hard breath, expelled it and strode out onto the deck.

  Ivy glanced up at him. “You took your sweet time.”

  Gods, she sounded so at ease around him n
ow, so comfortable with him.

  He wanted to snap something at her to drive her away, to place more distance between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  “Sorry.” He handed her the beer and nursed his own one as he sank into his seat, leaned back and rested his ankles on the railing.

  She glanced across at him and smiled. “You were saying something about your brothers?”

  Had he been?

  He thought back, and realised that he had, and that he had been gone longer than he had thought and had missed the sunset. The sky was growing darker now, the stars brighter.

  He watched them as they broke through the fading light above the horizon, beyond the mountains.

  “My brothers say the same thing about the cities… about not being able to see the stars. I’ll never understand why someone would want to live in such a place.” Because the stars were beautiful. Nature was beautiful. It was ever-changing. Even the same scenery could look different every day, altered by the weather, the lighting, or the season.

  She shrugged, lifted her beer to her lips, and lowered it again. “Not everyone is made to cope with a life like yours, out here in the wild, not a soul for miles.”

  Was she?

  Rath scrubbed that thought, not wanting to think about it.

  “I should set up my tent and bear fence before I get drunk or it gets too dark.” Those words leaving her lips left him cold and had him close to growling again.

  “No way.” He wasn’t going to let her sleep out in the open, where she would be vulnerable, not when other cougars were due to return at any moment. He wanted her safe. “You’re staying in the cabin with me.”

  Her eyes widened and leaped to him.

  He hadn’t meant it like that, but the flicker of heat in her gaze had him considering it.

  He pushed out other words than the ones he wanted to say. “You can take my bed and I’ll take the couch.”

  She fidgeted with her beer. “Sure. If you insist.”

  “Believe me, I insist.” Because he was damned if he would leave her unprotected, out here in the dark to fend for herself in some flimsy piece of material, or would allow her to get cold when he had a warm bed she could use.

  When she smiled at him, and it hit him hard, had that warmth curling through his veins again, he dragged his eyes away from her and swigged his beer, and reminded himself that she shouldn’t be here, couldn’t be here. He needed to get her to leave tomorrow, before anyone arrived.

  Keeping her around today had been a mistake.

  Being near her, around her, was too damn comfortable, and she drew him to her too much. It was only a matter of time before he messed up, before he did something that revealed he wasn’t like her and would send her running, exposing his kin to danger and forcing him to move the location of their home again to avoid the hunters.

  He stared at the stars and made a vow.

  One he was going to keep this time, no matter what.

  She was leaving tomorrow.

  CHAPTER 7

  Rath threw his left arm across his eyes as birdsong roused him from a fitful sleep. It was a miracle he had slept at all. After a few more beers while stargazing and an all too comfortable dinner with Ivy, she had made her excuses and retired up to his bedroom.

  It had been hell.

  The moment she had left his sight, his senses had locked onto her and tracked her every movement while he had stripped down to his long-sleeved cream t-shirt and black trunks, and arranged himself on the couch. He had done his damnedest to block her out, but it had been impossible.

  He could smell her, feel her, and that sensation she stirred in him, the restlessness, had grown stronger.

  He had stretched out on the couch, aware of her, that she was close to him, in his bed of all places.

  Her breathing had echoed in his ears, the rhythm of it changing as she had fallen into a deep sleep, and gods, it had been difficult to resist the urge to climb the stairs, to look at her while she was sleeping, and stand guard over her, protecting her while she was at her most vulnerable.

  It had taken more than an hour to convince himself that she was safe in his cabin, and that he could protect her from his position on the couch, would be aware if anyone entered his home and could easily dispatch them before they could reach her.

  Eventually, he had dozed off, into dreams of her that had caused fire to lick through his blood, searing him, making him burn for her.

  He bit back a groan, blew out his breath and focused on the loft to check on her, sure she would still be fast asleep.

  But the only heartbeat in the cabin was his own.

  Rath sprang from the couch, whipping to face the door, his pulse rocketing and senses sharpening, stretching as far and wide as he could reach, hunting for her.

  Where was she?

  He growled as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on, his muscles protesting over the sudden surge of action, threatening to cramp as panic seized him in a tight grip, squeezed his heart so hard he feared it might burst.

  He was out of the door before he had finished buttoning his fly, scouring the green valley for her. It was barely light, but as he burst from the deck at a dead run, heart pumping hard and senses seeking Ivy, his cougar side shifting relentlessly beneath his skin, sharpening his nails into short claws, the sun broke the horizon, bathing the valley in golden light.

  Washing over Ivy where she crouched by the log beneath the tree on the right of the clearing near the river, her camera poised in front of her face, her dark charcoal trousers and deep brown hoody allowing her to blend into her surroundings.

  Relief crashed through him, so powerful it almost sent him to his knees.

  Gods, he was going to kill her for scaring him like that.

  He took a step towards her, and then stilled as he frowned and tracked the aim of her lens.

  On the other side of the wide river, just visible through the low mist hanging above the rippling water, a mother black bear emerged from the trees, and two cubs tumbled out behind her, rolling across the stony bank as they played.

  A breeze blew, stirring the mist so it danced, swirled and cleared in places, allowing the sunlight to catch on the water, making it sparkle.

  The mother bear grunted as she looked back at her cubs, urging them on, and Rath slowly backed off a few steps, aware that she had sensed him. When he was at a distance where his presence wouldn’t worry her, he stilled again so he didn’t spook them, but kept an eye on them, watching them to make sure the cubs didn’t think about crossing the shallow water or notice Ivy.

  Protecting her from a distance.

  He could shift and reach her before the bear could, would drive it away if he had to, even though it would probably terrify Ivy.

  She seemed frightened of cougars.

  Rath’s gaze drifted to her.

  Would she be afraid of him if she saw his other form?

  He pushed that question aside as the bear moved on, leading her cubs back into the thick of the forest, and Ivy rose to her feet and checked her camera. She grinned down at the screen and he could feel her excitement, the happiness that flowed through her, despite the distance between them.

  When he started towards her, she looked across at him, her smile widening together with her eyes, and gods, as she hurried towards him, a bounce in her step that caused her dark hair to sway in its ponytail, he wanted that excitement she felt, that happiness, to be because it was him she was running to and because she was glad to see him, not because she had managed to photograph the bears.

  She was breathless as she stopped beside him, her chest heaving beneath her tight brown hoody, her hazel eyes sparkling as she tilted her head up and they met his.

  “Did you see?” She grinned at him, hitting him hard in the chest with it, and he nodded. Her eyes darted back down to the camera, and she checked the photographs again, as if they might have disappeared or been a trick of her imagination. She tilted the camera towards him and moved closer,
and he swallowed a groan as she brushed against him, her left arm pressing against his chest. “Look!”

  He tried to get his eyes to cooperate, but the way she leaned her head to her right, so he could see the screen of her camera, exposed her throat and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it now that she had tied her hair up again.

  Another groan, one that was more of a growl, rumbled up his throat and escaped this time.

  She jerked away from him and looked down. “Did I tread on your foot? Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

  There was a pretty crinkle to her brow when she looked up at him, as if she thought him crazy to be outside without any boots on.

  If he was crazy, it was because he had lost his mind worrying about her.

  Ivy flashed the camera his way again, her thumb pressing on the button that made it scroll through the shots she had taken.

  “They’re good,” he murmured, and cleared his throat because it had come out too damned huskily.

  A hint of a blush climbed her cheeks and she looked up at him again, her eyes bright and smile infectious.

  Godsdamnit she was beautiful.

  It hit him hard in the gut, and in the chest, a one-two punch that robbed him of his breath and had him staring down at her in silence, a little dazed and lost in her.

  So lost that he didn’t pay attention to what she was saying as she spoke to him, her coral-pink lips moving in enticing ways, filling his head with thoughts of silencing her with a kiss. When she looked as if she expected an answer, and he didn’t have a clue what she had said, he panicked.

  “Yes.” There was a fifty percent chance she had asked a question, and a chance that answer was the right one.

  Her face lit up. “Oh, thank you! Honestly, I’m not sure why I was so worried… but when I saw the bear and her cubs, I just knew I had to stay and try to get more pictures of them. Did you see them playing? They were adorable. Rolling around like that.”

  Hang on.

  A cold sensation washed through him as he caught up.

  A sinking one followed it when she continued speaking at a million miles per hour.

  “I shouldn’t have worried, but you’re not exactly the easiest person to deal with… it’s such a relief you said yes. I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow. I swear.”