Page 45 of Heartless

I pivoted mid-air, and we went down, tumbling and screaming. In that blink of an eye when my back was turned, he’d shifted, and my panther now tore through my control. As a human, he was something to toy with. But in panther form, he was both an equal and an aggressor. As we rolled down the rise, she was fury incarnate, her jaw locked around his neck and her hind legs kicking hard enough to rupture his gut. We were locked so tight, I could feel the thud of his heart, the hot stink of his breath, the rake of his claws…

If she could find a weak spot, biting was the least of her intentions.

Prey.

It whipped past us on that brutal wind, a delicious scent that lifted us out of battle, and turned us to a dark clump of trees.

Hunger slammed into me, making my head spin. This was something we both felt. That gnawing, aching emptiness that had to be filled now.

I gave chase, Trey a blur at my side.

He was bigger, faster, but he didn’t try to outrun me. Instead, he kept pace, his glowing eyes watching my every move. I chuffed, trying to knock him with my head, but he danced easily out of reach, before falling back into step. As we closed in on the prey, we didn’t need words, or even a glance. He went low, around the base of the ridge, and I went high, out onto the snowy ledge. The trees were a dark knot at its base, and the prey was in the thickest part. It was a dominant buck, bedded down out of the wind, his nose tucked up under his hind legs.

I sensed Trey crouched down at the closest exit route, just as my feet left the ledge and I hit the tree. It bent under my weight, but I was already moving, threading through the branches with short, controlled leaps. The buck was on his feet, eyes rolling as he sensed my approach, but he was wedged in too tight to turn. And in moments, I was on his back, claws sinking into his flank as I bit deep into his spinal cord.

I ate my first kill. At some stage, Trey crept in through the trees. I hissed and growled, but there was too much meat, and he was patient. When I’d had my fill, I leaped onto a low branch and licked the blood from my paws, chuffing as Trey tore through the thick slabs of flesh. I barely noticed the moon moving across the sky, or the distant spread of stars. But I felt the wind like a caress. Like a familiar hand between my shoulder blades, holding me in place.

When I’d finished my grooming, I leaped off the branch and trotted through the trees. Trey was immediately on my heels. A single swipe of my tail and we were rolling again, although this time with less fury. He was bigger, but I was more agile. And I discovered a dirty streak as we hunted each other across the frozen mountain. We ran and played and bickered until I felt a heaviness in my limbs, and then he nudged me up towards another rise. This one had a house atop it, a thing of decks and spiral stairs, all crafted from a giant tree. It spoke to something deep inside me. The need for higher ground, for a sturdy branch at my back, and for the scent of prey on the wind.

But I was so tired, I was stumbling. I saw an open door, wooden floors, the beady eyes of dead things on the wall. Trey nudged me again, but I had the scent of the place, my head sagging as I padded towards the den. There was a bed – human, but also panther – and I leaped up onto it. Trey followed, but just as I began to curl up, he pushed me onto my back. My neck was suddenly exposed, and my legs kicked out. I was on the verge of clawing him in the belly, but he quickly shifted, and instead of what would have been a killing blow, I sank my teeth into his neck.

Blood exploded in my mouth, so much darker and sweeter than the buck.

I reared back, my form growing hazy at the edges. But just as I slipped back into my skin, darkness swooped in and took me. And strong arms pulled me tight, a fading murmur against my ear. “I’ve got you, macska.”

***

I woke to the taste of blood in my mouth, and Trey Barakat’s naked butt beside me. Terrifying enough, until I realized I was naked, too, and sprawled across a strange bed like I’d been picked up and poured into it.

I froze, staring up at the weak sunlight playing over a pale, beamed roof. For another girl, this might have been the traumatic moment when she realized the previous night was a foggy void. Not me. Even as I replayed my cat’s adventures with Trey, I felt her stretch under my skin, the smug press of her claws kneading my spine. She had no problem looking at Trey’s butt, but it was the taste of his blood that she was really savoring.

Our mate.

Fuck that shit.

I rolled off the bed before she could get any ideas, and headed straight for the nearest door. Everything was familiar, if you were looking at it through the haze of a mate-drunk animal. Hardwood floors, high ceilings, and the kind of art on the walls that made me green with envy. But as much as I wanted to linger and take it in, Trey’s scent had the opposite effect, and I was almost running by the time I hit the door.

My stomach flip-flopped with relief when the knob turned under my hand. It wouldn’t have made sense for anyone to have locked us in, although with the Barakats, you never knew. And I was still confused as to where exactly we were. Trey’s scent was lathered over everything, and when we’d come in, my panther had been certain she was entering his den. But maybe this was just a crash pad. Although, he’d made a big deal about this being on his land. His territory. He’d brought me here for a reason, and I was fairly certain it had to do with the nasty taste still lingering in my mouth. So where exactly was I?

“At the scene of the biggest mistake of my life,” I muttered, then grimaced as I saw a girl in her mid-twenties watching me from the end of the hall. She was wearing jeans and a casual sweater, although they were as expensive as the sharp cut of her caramel bob. Did she own the place? She had that rich college girl look. I blanched as I realized this could be her winter house, and Trey was just some kind of gatecrasher she was too polite to toss out. So what must she think of me? The Horn trash the cat had literally dragged in? “Um. Sorry.” It was probably too late to shoot for modesty, but I tucked my girls under the little cover I could offer. “My clothes are around here somewhere…”

“Unlikely, unless your cat’s come up with a nifty way of carrying them for you.”

Okay. So she knew what I was, even if she didn’t know exactly what I was doing in her house. “Could you show me the way out, please?”

“I could,” she replied, taking a sip of her high-end coffee, “but I’m not sure Trey would thank me for it.”

Another clue. She knew Trey, which probably meant he wasn’t a gatecrasher, but I still didn’t know if that made her friend or foe. “Maybe not, but I’ll owe you until the day I die.”

She must have heard the desperation in my voice, because she smirked. “Good trade. Come with me.”

She turned and headed into the wide, open room I remembered passing through last night. The beady eyes actually belong to stuffed animal heads, and while the human part of me was more interested in the gallery-level art on display, I paused when I realized this wasn’t your usual hunting trophies – every single head on the wall belonged to a wolf.

If the girl noticed me staring, she didn’t say anything, walking into the kitchen and collecting a pile of clothes from the sleek marble counter. She handed them to me without a word, and I was relieved to see the sweater had a high neck. I’d got into the habit of wearing my hoodie since Trey bit me, and the last thing I wanted to do was flaunt my chewed-up neck on my walk of shame.

While I quickly dressed, she poured me a cup from the complicated-looking coffee machine. But instead of giving it to me, she placed it on the counter and nodded to one of the bench seats. “Sit and chat for a moment, then I’ll make sure you get home.” Normally I’d do just about anything for a cup of coffee that smelled that good, but I cast an uneasy glance over my shoulder. “If you’re worried he’s going to wake up and come hunt you down, don’t be.” She took another sip, her brows raised into her bangs, and I winced, because the message was clear.

You don’t go out hunting when your prey is already stuffed and hanging on your wall.

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