Baylee, look at me. He didn’t know if she could access the mental channels his kind were born with, communicated through in their alternate forms, but he figured it was worth a shot. Baylee, look at me.
She shuddered fitfully, exhausted. Her tongue lolled onto the dirt as she tried to catch her breath. But those marvelous blue eyes, bigger and brighter in panther form, met his wearily. He could see the humanity in her now; she’d managed to take back the reins and section off the beast’s mentality.
How long have you been in this form? He asked, nuzzling at her neck.
There was strained silence, then a hesitant, Ten moons.
Stunned, he froze. You’ve been living like a panther for over a week?
She’s strong. Stronger than I am. I changed, and she took over. She regarded him dully, the she-panther’s face mournful. What happened to me, Daxon? Why am I like you?
Good fucking question, he thought, unable to answer her. His lineage wasn’t of were-blood. Cubs were born with the natural ability to shift forms; that ability wasn’t transferable through any other means. By all rights, he should turn the matter over to his father and the elders of the clan; they had the wisdom and the clan history at their fingertips.
We’ll figure it out, baby. This...you...has never happened before to my knowledge. His beast’s purring almost drowned out Daxon’s thoughts. Well, at least someone was happy. Do you know how to change back?
Baylee glared at him. I don’t know how I did it in the first place, Dax. How the hell am I supposed to know how to reverse it?
I’ll teach you, he promised. Do you trust me, Baylee?
She hissed at him, jaws opening to flash her impressive teeth. Trusting you is not an issue, Daxon. It never has been.
I never wanted to leave you, Baylee. Daxon cursed ripely as the words popped out of his brain without him meaning them to. He felt her stiffen beneath him. First things first, okay? Relax, take deep breaths and imagine yourself as you’d see yourself in a mirror.
Everything went quiet, as though the forest itself held its breath in anticipation. Her breathing calmed, merged into one with his. That’s it, baby. Remember who you are.
THE PANTHER PROWLED in her head, growling softly. She was angry she’d been imprisoned back inside Baylee’s mind after so many days of freedom. The hunt and kill, the space to run and feel textures beneath her feet. The sweetness of fresh air.
Baylee tried to block her out, to concentrate on Dax’s instructions and her own image of herself. More difficult than she’d expected, she thought as she brought wavering pictures of her face and body to mind. Ten days of seeing through the big cat’s eyes distorted her memories, separated parts of herself.
The human and the primal.
Human Baylee wanted her body back. To have hands and feet, a mouth to smile with. To never eat raw, warm meat again or go to the toilet in the bushes—Human Baylee found that entirely humiliating, despite having no audience and the fact her genitals weren’t entirely on display. To have a voice.
Primal Baylee, however, rejoiced at the freedom of going anywhere, doing anything she liked. To bound twenty feet up a pine tree in only a couple strides. Killing to survive, living to suit herself. Primal Baylee had found her voice; the sound of it brought the birds screaming from the trees and dropped men to their knees.
Would you love me if I stayed this way?
Daxon’s green stare deepened, glowed. I’d love you any way you are.
I don’t think I can change back. She...she’s strong and seductive, Dax. Part of me wants what she wants and between them both, I can’t fight them. They won’t let me change.
You think I don’t know that feeling? That desperation to be wild and free? You can live like this, Baylee. For a time. After so long, you’d never be able to return to human form, and you’d live the rest of your short years as the cat. Twelve to fifteen years, Baylee. That’s all you’d get.
Baylee flinched at his words. Twelve to fifteen? She’d be a teenaged panther when she died. She’d die never knowing the touch of his lips on hers again, the skim of his hands over her heated skin. Never feel him inside her, joined deeply, completely.
She closed her eyes, shut out the whining she-panther and concentrated on visualizing her hands. Her hands changed first last time, she saw no reason in breaking tradition.
The pain shocked her as much as it had the first time. No tickling sensation this time but the feeling of having every individual hair on her pelt ripped from her skin. Bones shrinking, creaking, snapping with sick pops.
She writhed beneath Daxon, bare skin against warm fur, arching as ribs and spine and limbs crunched. Then it was skin against skin, and Daxon’s arms came around her, held her tightly against his naked chest.
“That’s it. Nearly there, Baylee. So close now.”
Her scream cleaved the air in two, short and sharp. Breathless, agony radiating like a physical body-blow, Baylee trembled violently. “D-does it always hurt this m-much?”
“No. No, sweetheart, only the first few times you revert to human form.” He kissed her lavishly, hands stroking over her and soothing away the tremors. “You need to rest now. Shifting forms expends energy, and you’re not strong enough yet.”
Resting was the last thing on her agenda. “I want to know how you feel about me, Dax.”
His intense gaze softened and his lips twitched. His big hands, almost as large as his paws, cupped her face tenderly. “Saying the words will land us both in a whole new heap of trouble, baby. Sure you want to risk it?”
“What’s in me is tied to what’s inside you.” Her voice steadied. “I know what I have in my heart for you, Daxon. If the words are the right ones, I don’t care about trouble. Say them.”
“My brave little shifter,” he said with a rakish grin. “I love you.”
Baylee closed her eyes, basked in the warmth. The right words, indeed. They resonated inside her, thrummed wildly and infected every cell with steady delight. “I love you, Daxon. Leave me again and I’ll turn you into a rug for my bedroom floor.”
He laughed wickedly. “A fine rug I’d make, not that I’ll make the same mistake again. Leaving you hurt me, Baylee. I hope you believe that. Pain I’ve never experienced before, and never want to again.”
She wrapped her legs around him and rolled them over, reversing their positions, silently accepting his apology. She straddled him, flipping her hair back over her shoulder in an ebony waterfall. Her hand slipped down between them, grasped his cock in a firm grip. “Not a masochist, Dax?”
His eyes darkened. “Definitely not.”
His erection grew in the caress of her fingers, weeping as her touch taunted him. She kissed him fiercely, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She shifted, pressing his cock against her and sinking down in a swift downward motion.
They both moaned.
The huntress’ blood ran through her veins, giving Baylee a feminine advantage. This was what she wanted, what she needed, and she’d let nothing stand in her way. The panther had taught her how to accomplish that, if nothing else. Focus. Determination. Stamina.
Her hands ran down his chest, lingering over ridges and planes, her pussy clenching hard as his stomach muscles tightened with every thrust. So weird, and wonderful, to correlate one with the other.
“I own you,” Daxon growled.
“Yes.”
“Say the words.”
“I’m yours.” She jerked, shuddered, toppled over the edge of climax with a cry. “All yours, Daxon.”
“Good.” He flipped them, settling her against the ground and raising her legs over his broad shoulders. “You drive me fucking crazy, Bay. I wish I had some restraints and a bottle of lube handy; driving you just as crazy would suit me just fine.”
“What the hell do you do with lube?” she panted it out, fired up by the look in his eyes. She screamed when he drove back inside her, their position altering everything, his pubic bone striking hers with a firm slap.
Dax threw his head back and made a sound that became half-wicked laugh and half-desperate groan. “Lube, Baylee. You know what lube is?”
Baylee closed her eyes, absorbing the depth he held himself within her, the throb and flex of his cock titillating oversensitive tissues. Her hands ran up his back, over muscles taut with control, into his hair. “Lube as in lube?”
He chuckled. “Lubricant, my love. Lots of it, so your tight little ass will take my cock the same way your gorgeous pussy does.” He ground a little deeper so she gasped, trapped on the border of pleasure and pain. “All the way. Every inch of me, Baylee. All right here,” he added, slipping a hand beneath her and stroking that unorthodox spot.
She fisted viciously around him, heard him grunt, felt him swell quickly. The panther muttered, paced, strained to get her claws in him and do what nature intended. “Then do it. You’re man enough, aren’t you? God knows there’s enough beast in you.” She remembered his dominant tendencies and looked him clear in the eye before adding, “Sir.”
“Witch.” He erupted, snarling with the force of his ejaculation, teeth bared in a grimace that looked on the brink of painful. “When I get you into a proper bed, you’re going to beg me to take your ass, Baylee, I promise you.”
She simply stretched her arms over her head and savored the heat centered around her womb. Happy, content, she let herself drift, wrapped in his warmth. “Promises, promises, big guy.”
He nipped lazily at her collarbone. “I keep my promises, Baylee. Now, it’s high time we got you home, baby. The pair of us smell like rabid skunks that accidentally sprayed each other.”
“Ten days in the wilderness will do that to a person,” she murmured.
Daxon gave his own stretch, kissed her softly on the mouth. “Can you remember where you left your gear? We’ll get it gathered up, collect my truck and go find a shower and a bed.”
Vague images. Pain and destruction, flutters of flimsy material floating away around her. Baylee cleared her throat. “Slight problem.”
“Hmm?”
“I think I killed my gear.”
A dark eyebrow raised. “You killed your gear. Did it transmogrify into a six-point buck for your feeding pleasure?”
She shook her head. “The change came quickly; I was still dressed because it was cold, and the tent had collapsed so I just crawled into it as it was...I don’t think there was a lot left of anything by the time I’d finished.”
Something flashed over his face. “Did you tell your friends where you were going?”
Embarrassment flooded her cheeks. “We maybe had a fallout.”
“Goddamn it, Baylee. You disappeared into the woods for damn near two weeks and the people who care about you have no idea where you are?”
“I...we argued, then you called, and all I could think about was finding you.” She averted her eyes as they filled. “They don’t understand what I have with you. I’m supposed to be happy and interested in them when they find someone, but when it’s my turn, they ruin it.”
“Baby, I don’t know whether to kiss you or spank you. For fucks’ sake, did you not hear the racket through the woods? Horses, ATVs, dogs? They sent a fucking search party out after you, and guess what they found?”
She didn’t want to know the answer if the tight set of his jaw was any indication of how angry he was. Green fire burned in his eyes, and she wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t spank her where she lay.
“Baylee, your panther shredded your clothes, your tent. You’ve essentially disappeared without a word to anyone. No wonder the search party didn’t get this far,” he muttered to himself. He slipped free of her and got to his feet, offering her a hand up. “They think you’re dead.”
She blinked. “Dead. As in dead, dead?”
“As in mauled to death and eaten by a large wild animal,” he confirmed. He yanked her up when she grasped his hand. “We need to get you home and this mess sorted out before things get out of hand. How confident are you about shifting?”
Dread pooled in her belly. “She’ll take me over again.”
“No, she won’t.” His tone meant business. “She’ll follow me.”
“Daxon, you don’t know her.” Baylee wrapped her arms around herself, warding off a chill. Whether it came from the night air or the thought of surrendering to the beast again, she couldn’t tell. Too much of her wanted to embrace the panther and abdicate control.
He took her face in his hands. His anger cooled a little, and he sighed. “Somehow, she’s come from me. Don’t ask me how, I couldn’t tell you under threat of torture, but it’s the only way I can see how you’ve developed shifter abilities. If she’s anything like my beast, she’s a handful and a half. She’ll test you, seduce you, fight you over the slightest thing. You have to be stronger, more devious than she can ever hope to be. Which is saying something.”
“I’m not a devious person, Daxon. I’m simple and easily swayed and she’s more than aware she can hijack me.”
“I don’t love simple, easily swayed women. I love a strong-willed, independent woman who can shapeshift.”
“Oh,” she said softly. “Are there many of them?”
Daxon grinned. “Just one. The only one. Now, big girl panties on, Baylee, and show me what you’ve got. Black’s your color.”
Baylee blew out an unsteady breath. Black’s my color, she repeated to herself. Black’s my color. She closed her eyes as her skin tickled, spreading lush black fur from head to toe. “I hate the bone-cracking.”
“Just relax, don’t fight it, and eventually it becomes second-nature.” His voice had dropped several octaves. “You won’t feel it after you’ve changed a few times; the endorphins and adrenaline carry it all away.”
She opened her eyes, surprised by the timbre of his almost-unrecognizable voice. He’d shifted halfway, more panther than human now, waiting for her to catch him up. He grinned again, canine teeth peeking out.
She completed the shift, battled from the get-go with the beast for ownership of their body. She looked helplessly at Daxon as he stood a couple feet away, tail twitching, eyes gleaming.
Catch me if you can, he dared, and bounded away playfully.
The she-panther’s attention switched quickly from take-over to the chase. She yowled, and Baylee cocked her head curiously. Want to play, Sheba?
The panther purred, and Baylee took it to be confirmation. Either that, or she preferred a name rather than be referred to as ‘the beast’. Okay then, go get him.
They charged, a combined unit now rather than two entities at war. Greenery morphed from individual trees and plants into a blur of color. A rock formation appeared from nowhere, it seemed, looming a good eight feet high, all smooth edges and jagged crags.
Baylee braced for impact but nature stepped in. The panther’s lithe body and powerful limbs made short work of leaping to the top, hind feet scrabbling only a little for purchase. Then they were flying from the pinnacle, landing gracefully with the barest skid of paws in dirt before they powered forward on Daxon’s trail.
Gotta be quick to keep up with me, girls.
They poured on more speed, thundering down the deer paths, following his scent and the sound of his paws. He had to pay for his cockiness. Even a man—a cat—as stunningly masculine as he shouldn’t be allowed to have unlimited arrogance.
This way, Sheba directed and turned them through the thick undergrowth without a second’s hesitation, despite Baylee’s protests.
Baylee. Baylee!
They scaled a massive ponderosa, claws gripping the bark easily, until they reached the upper branches. Sheba navigated it easily, leaping from tree to tree, a flightless bird. Then they hunkered down, waited.
Baylee, where the fuck are you?
Shush, Sheba ordered and stared down at the path below them. Daxon jogged back beneath them only a few moments later, nose lifted in the air as he searched for them.
They sprang, dropping from the tree in near silence, landing on Dax with a hefty o
omph of impact. Baylee’s silent whee of terrified fun went unnoticed. They were on their feet before Daxon gained his.
Catch us if you can, pussy cat, Baylee taunted, caught up in Sheba’s infectious playfulness. We want to play.
They bolted down the path. Baylee squealed when the thud of his paws drew closer and the presence of his bigger, more dominant body smothered her sense of self-preservation. They raced side by side, snapping lightly at each other, bodies bumping against each other in an effort to knock the other one off stride.
Behave or I’ll fuck you seven ways to Sunday when I get you home, he warned.
That’s not an incentive to behave myself now, is it? She laughed delightedly and kicked it up a gear. You want me to be bad, Dax, admit it. Can’t punish me if I’m a good girl and you’re dying to see me with a red ass.
Where the hell did that come from? Baylee congratulated herself on her newfound brazenness, laughed again when he snarled. The air began to change, losing the purity of the mountains and the forest. Traces of humanity seeped through.
Wanna play dirty, Baylee? I can play dirty all day long. I’m going to enjoy tying you to the bed, spread-eagled and unable to move. Your ass will have the spanking of a lifetime before I fuck it. I won’t be gentle. It’s going to hurt. My thick cock driving through that tiny, virginal hole. He panted beside her, keeping pace. You’ll come so hard you won’t remember screaming my name. But your neighbors will. I will.
In unison, Baylee and Sheba slammed on the brakes. Arousal permeated the air, along with the barest hint of fear. Daxon shot past them, then strutted back, circling around her sniffing. Filthy pussy cat.
His whiskers twitched. Truck’s just through there; we can shift here. You smell delicious, Baylee. Something I said?
You’re a sneaky bastard.
I know how to push your buttons, baby.
She couldn’t disagree with him there; she was curious to see how many buttons she had, and if he knew how to push them all. Sighing, she began the change. First things first, she thought.
Wild: Hangman's Haunt Book 1 Page 12