by Jory Strong
The rustle of furs had him imagining her naked. Made him realize man and beast were once again fully united in their desire to claim this woman.
With a thought Aryck commanded the change, knowing if he turned back toward Rebekka in a human form, he would take her, without care for the consequences.
Rebekka was torn between relief and disappointment as Aryck became Jaguar. It was for the best, she reminded herself, lying back down but unable to suppress the small thrill that came when he padded over and settled next to her.
Heat poured off him, so much of it she wanted to kick off the covers and lie naked in the cool night air. A flush spread over her skin at the erotic image.
He began purring, a low rumble that felt like a rough tongue lapping over her swollen folds and hardened nipples. She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t, and yet she couldn’t stop herself from reaching over and running her hand down his neck and over his shoulders.
Both his forms were magnificent. Beautiful.
For the first time in her life she wished she’d been born something other than a gifted healer. If she were a Jaguar—
But she wasn’t, and only pain would come of imagining otherwise, of dreaming there could be a future here with him. She was human, fathered by a demon, her gift altered by a supernatural being who’d turned it into something that would bring death to those she lived among if she wasn’t careful.
Aryck’s purrs deepened, drawing her away from her troubled thoughts. Stroking his fur eased her, quieted her mind and her body, finally allowing sleep to reclaim her.
Sixteen
REBEKKA woke to a strong male body covering hers. Warm skin touching warm skin. Making her feel safe, protected, desirable.
Muscles rippled beneath her hands as they glided over a naked back. The hard throb of an erection pressed against her belly and ground against her stiffened clit. Lips nuzzled her ear. A cheek rubbed against hers, bringing a scent that had come to represent temptation. Aryck.
Her nipples were tight, aching points stabbing a smooth chest. She let herself pretend, keeping her eyes closed, not wanting the fantasy to end as her fingers lingered at the base of his spine, then dared to go lower.
His moan was a rumbled purr as her hands smoothed over firm, muscled buttocks. He lifted onto his elbows enough to allow him to trail kisses to the edge of her mouth.
Like a cat, his tongue darted out, licked along the seam of her lips. Enticed.
She opened for him. Her lower lips did the same. Unfurling, making her want to spread her legs wider and cant her hips. To tear away the barrier of her panties so he could find her opening and join their bodies with the thrust of his cock deep inside her.
His tongue slid into her mouth, rubbed against hers as his body rocked, each movement striking her clit. She opened her eyes, unable to deny herself the sight of him above her.
He growled in satisfaction. Shifted his weight onto a single elbow, freeing his hand to cup her bare breast.
Desire rushed through her. A whimper escaped and she arched her back.
His face tightened, nostrils flaring as his fingers rubbed over her nipple, clamped onto it and tugged, eyes more jaguar than human. Daring her to deny him. Promising exquisite pleasure with her acceptance.
She licked her lips and his hips jerked, thrust his rigid cock against her clit and made her cry out. Lust flashed through her and she clamped her legs against his.
He lowered his head. Lapped at her nipple. Took it between his lips and suckled.
Need made her forget everything else. She tangled her fingers in his hair, writhed under him as gentle sucks gave way to the feel of teeth, to pain that only fed the pleasure.
With a growl he released her nipple, laved and kissed her breast, burying his face in her cleavage before once again covering her mouth with his. His tongue thrust aggressively as his hand went to her panties, fingers curling around them at her hip in preparation of ripping them away from her. Enough sanity remained for her to cover his hand with hers, stopping him.
Before he could renew his sensual assault, the door opened with a crash, and Aryck rolled to his feet, ready to defend against attack. Rebekka sat and grabbed a blanket, pulling it up to her chest.
The sight of Melina and Phaedra cleared the haze of passion from Rebekka’s mind with the effectiveness of stepping out into the rain during the winter season. But it did nothing to eradicate the lust pooled in her belly and between her thighs.
Her breathing remained harsh, as did Aryck’s. A blush stole over her at seeing him standing naked, perfectly at ease. Uncaring and unconcerned about the hardened length of cock on display.
The Jaguar healer came farther into the room. Rebekka noticed the bundle in Phaedra’s arms then, recognized her own clothing, clean and folded, the journal lying on top.
“Leave us,” Phaedra said to Aryck, including Melina with a glance.
Aryck bent over, retrieving the pants he’d dropped to the floor the night before. The action afforded Rebekka a view of sculpted muscle, of graceful power and sheer masculinity.
Her channel clenched, wetting her inner thighs with arousal and sending a spike of need through her clit. He looked back at her, eyes holding heat and knowledge. If they hadn’t been interrupted, he would be inside her now.
She shook her head in silent denial but knew it was a lie. He stepped into his pants, drawing them up with excruciating slowness. Behaving like a cat wanting adoration and smiling as he got it when she licked her lips.
Rebekka turned her head. A fist tightened around her heart. She’d be gone soon, probably after she’d eaten.
Phaedra handed Rebekka the bundle as Aryck and Melina left. Rebekka set the journal aside and dressed quickly, needing the armor of clothing to cover the awkwardness of what had happened—or nearly happened—with Aryck.
“Your breakfast should be almost ready,” Phaedra said, turning and walking toward the door.
Rebekka saw her shoes next to it. She picked them up rather than stop to put them on.
A young girl tended a fire at the back of the cabin. Rebekka’s mouth watered at the smell of spiced sausage and fried potatoes.
“Sit,” Phaedra said, gesturing to a heavy log as she took over the chore of cooking.
Rebekka sat, dropping the shoes to the ground rather than put them on. The rich loam was cool against her feet, fertile where much of the land they’d passed through to arrive at the Jaguar camp had been red dirt and sandstone.
The girl lingered, obviously curious. Rebekka sent her a tentative smile and had it returned.
Phaedra glanced over her shoulder at the girl. “You have roots and berries to gather if you hope to continue your lessons today.”
The girl slipped into the woods, quickly disappearing from sight.
Rebekka looked around. Like the healer’s cabin, this one was well hidden and seemingly isolated. It was a concession to the jaguar in their natures, she guessed, since the big cats were solitary creatures.
Levi had told her Lion prides lived in family groups, several generations of females with their mates and offspring sharing the same dwelling. Wolf packs were the same, though an alpha pair ruled and membership depended more on mutual agreement than blood ties.
A plate thrust against her hand scattered Rebekka’s thoughts and made her stomach rumble. She set the journal on the log. Phaedra sat so it was between them.
With the first bite of food it became impossible for Rebekka to do anything but eat. She was ravenous, starved. Thinking back on it, the last meal leaving her feeling full had been at the Iberá estate.
When she finally finished eating there was nothing left, on either the plate or the skillet. “How are the cubs?” she asked.
Phaedra’s smile held the answer. “They shift between forms and already chafe at being told they can’t stray far from their homes. I suspect their parents will soon grow tired of having energetic and rambunctious boys underfoot.”
“Caius included?”
&
nbsp; The healer’s smile faded. “He is well, but his mother remains the same. Our kind mate for life. Some do not survive the loss of the bond.”
There were herbs and potions to combat depression. During The Last War shock and grief had driven many to turn inward and lose touch with the world of the living.
By Allende’s order, Rebekka didn’t make or dispense mood-altering drugs to those who worked in the brothel. That was a business for a vice lord. But like the stimulants some of the prostitutes took, drugs to lift a user out of depression were available.
“Can you give her something?”
“It’s not our way.”
Rebekka looked around, taking in the beauty of the dark woods only a few steps beyond the fire pit. She breathed in the pine and cedar scent, the smell of earth. Listened to the birds and sought them out: quail pecking and rattling through scrub, a crow sitting high in a tree, a cardinal a few branches beneath it, a red-tailed hawk flying above, crying out in a harsh, prolonged kee-ahrrr.
She understood why Phaedra wouldn’t interfere. Here nature would take its course. It held the capacity to soothe and restore, but it was also ruled by a law dictating survival of the fittest.
Rebekka set the empty plate aside and picked up the journal. She traced the edges with her fingertips, remembering Phaedra’s threatening growl when she’d first seen it. “This belonged to a man who was alive during The Last War. He treated anyone brought to him, human or Were. I received it in payment for a healing. The person who gave it to me knew it had once belonged to a Were. I’m not sure if they knew he was Jaguar, and I don’t know how it came to be in their possession.”
“I reacted badly. I’ve had few dealings with humans and none of them good. You are not what any of us expected.” Phaedra laughed softly. “Save for Nahuatl, the shaman, perhaps. But that’s the way of those who visit the ancestors, to dole out information only as it’s deemed necessary.”
Curiosity led Rebekka to risk getting into an argument with Phaedra as she had with Aryck. “The Weres in the brothels don’t mention the ancestors.”
“The ancestors aren’t to be spoken about lightly. Their reach is long, even for those who’ve had their eternal soul cast out of the shadowlands.”
Rebekka wondered if Phaedra ever questioned whether all those trapped between forms had been judged by the ancestors. She considered challenging the healer’s beliefs as she’d done Aryck’s, then shrugged the thought away. She wouldn’t be here long enough to change the way they saw those they considered outcast.
“Do I leave today for Oakland?”
“I hoped to convince you to stay and share the knowledge contained in the journal. Koren, our alpha, hasn’t granted permission, but I believe he will once he learns Nahuatl spoke to the ancestors and your continued presence in Jaguar lands won’t anger them.”
A flash of need hit Rebekka, having everything to do with Aryck and nothing to do with remaining in order to discuss healing. Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks as her body readied itself for him. There was no way to hide what it meant from Phaedra, who’d witnessed evidence of the attraction already.
Rebekka expected Phaedra to warn against any involvement with Aryck; instead the healer said, “In our pack knowledge is passed down orally. Our history is learned sitting at the feet of our elders. The stories we tell are created and embellished at the fireside. The best of them are committed to memory and become favorites.
“There are marks we use to leave messages behind. We don’t put ink to paper, or know how to read what others have recorded. Until you came, bringing the journal, I thought there was little that hadn’t been passed down, healer to healer. I was wrong. Now I know much has been lost. I hope you will stay and share what was once known by one of my kind.”
Rebekka rubbed her palm against the material of her pants. Her pulse sped up when she felt the Wainwright token in the pocket, then slowed with the realization Phaedra must have found it and decided that possessing something connected to witches wasn’t important and didn’t make Rebekka a threat to the Jaguars.
Unbidden the image of Annalise came to mind, leaning forward, talking of a coming war between supernaturals, of there being choices that might ultimately lead to the deepening of Rebekka’s gift so she could fully heal the Were outcasts, allowing them to shift between forms.
This was one of those choices. Rebekka felt certain of it.
Her hand strayed to the amulet. Her mind went to the past, to the demon father who’d saved her from rape and sent her to the brothels.
This world was far removed from that one. And whatever his reason for fathering her, she didn’t think she’d serve his purpose here.
But here offered a measure of safety, of peace, as long as she kept the amulet on.
And temptation, a small voice whispered in her mind, her body tingling with pleasure at the memory of Aryck on top of her, his cock thrusting against her stiffened clit as his tongue fucked in and out of her mouth. If they hadn’t been interrupted …
She wet her lips. Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized even though the answers she needed were in Oakland, and remaining near Aryck would only lead to pain, she couldn’t leave, not when she had an excuse to remain. “I’ll stay and share what’s in the journal with you.”
“Good.” Phaedra rose to her feet. “I need to speak with Koren.”
Rebekka remained seated. She clamped her thighs together, but instead of easing the throbbing in her clit and swollen labia, it seemed to intensify her awareness of them. Until Aryck she’d never viewed herself as a sexual being. She’d suppressed all desire, not wanting to be turned on by witnessing carnal acts she knew degraded and slowly killed something inside those she loved and considered her friends.
She touched the place where the tattoo was hidden beneath her clothing. She’d thought to save herself, to use her virginity as a way of proving she was no prostitute. But that assumed she would find a man she could trust with both her heart and her body, someone she could share her life with—her secrets.
How could she think she’d find that now? Who would want a demon’s child? A healer whose gift could also bring death on an unimaginable scale?
Need rippled through her at remembering the hungry look in Aryck’s eyes. Why not take the pleasure he offered?
Because I don’t think I can keep my feelings separated from my body, she admitted, a chill invading as she imagined Aryck seeing the tattoo and knowing what it meant, then turning away from her in disgust because of it.
A small hand holding a bouquet of purple flowers appeared in front of Rebekka’s face, jerking her from her thoughts. She turned her head slightly and saw the Tiger cub standing on the other side of the log she sat on.
“For making me better,” Caius said.
Rebekka took the flowers, holding them close to her nose and inhaling. “Thank you.” She patted the log next to her. “Would you like to sit?”
He looked down, shifting from one foot to the other before finally mumbling, “I have a favor to ask.”
She reached over and took his hand. His nervousness crept up her arm and settled into her chest. “Ask.”
Blue eyes looked at her through shaggy, white-blond bangs. “Will you go with me to meet the Tiger?”
Her heart turned over in her chest. Of course Caius would want to meet Canino, someone who was like him.
“Do you know where he is?” She hadn’t thought about Canino since arriving at the Jaguar camp.
“Yes.”
“Let me put the flowers in the cabin and my shoes on and we’ll go.”
They found Canino sunning himself on a huge flat-topped boulder next to a small pond. He yawned widely, revealing his canines. A roar followed when Caius ducked behind Rebekka.
“Can you ask him to shift?” Caius whispered, trying to keep his voice low enough so it wouldn’t carry to the Tiger.
Sudden guilt burdened Rebekka’s heart, casting doubt and making her question whether or not she�
�d done the right thing in agreeing to stay here longer instead of returning to Oakland and the Weres who needed her there. “He can’t change form.”
“Oh.” Caius edged out from behind her. “It doesn’t matter.”
Canino stood, body rigid, lips pulling back in a silent snarl.
Caius retreated behind her again.
Despite the show, Canino’s emotions didn’t register against Rebekka’s senses as a threat. They were more like those of a cranky, solitary male whose nap had been interrupted and who intended to go back to sleep unless his unexpected visitors were committed to staying.
There was a tingling of curiosity directed at Caius as well. A touch of sadness that made her wonder how Canino had come to be held in the maze, and if he’d lost a mate and offspring in the process.
Rebekka turned long enough to put an arm around Caius and maneuver him so he stood in front of her. Anxiety and the desperate desire to be accepted vibrated through his small body.
She leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of his head, sending the same waves of calm she used with injured wildlife to soothe him. “Aryck told me if it weren’t for you, the other cubs would be dead.”
Caius’s chest swelled and he stood a bit taller. “He did?”
“Yes. You were amazingly courageous to do what you did for them. Now introduce yourself to Canino. He won’t hurt you.”
The Tiger chose that moment to charge.
He came at them fast and Rebekka jumped, her pulse skittering despite her belief he wouldn’t attack her.
Caius froze in place, making only the tiniest of sounds.
At the last moment Canino veered, nearly knocking Caius and her over with the rub of his side before padding back to the rocks and stretching out again, tail twitching and curling against the stone like a striped question mark, as if asking, Well, what are you waiting for?
“Go on,” Rebekka said, cupping Caius’s chin and tilting his face upward so she could place a kiss on his forehead.
The cub pressed against her, soaking in the affection. Rebekka’s thoughts strayed to his mother, locked in her grief over the loss of her mate and failing the son she’d created with him.