Page 37 of An Unexpected Claim

Peyton

When I woke up in my bed the next morning, my mood had already been in the dumpster. Last night, my dreams of Nathan had been incredibly vivid.

Seriously, this level of obsession with him can’t be healthy.

At one point, during a particularly dirty fantasy, I’d been so surrounded by his woodsy scent that when I jolted awake, I would have sworn that if I opened my eyes, he would be right there in bed with me. When I looked and found no one there, I didn’t know whether I was relieved or disappointed.

Another morning with breakfast but no Nathan.

As I chomped my way through the delicious breakfast he’d left for me—enjoying it in protest—all alone,again,my disposition continued to plummet.

I finished up, rinsed my dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. When I turned back around, my gaze swept over the wall of glass and soaked in the beautiful view of the land outside Nathan’s cabin. Fall on the East Coast could be magical. The colors of the leaves were so bright that even a camera or an amazing artist couldn’t capture it completely. Whenever I found myself out this way, I’d loved going for a run in the crisp air and my panther enjoyed romping in the piles of fallen leaves.

My girl brushed her fur just under my skin, hinting that she would like to be set free to run and play. It sounded wonderful to me too, and I wanted to explore my new surroundings.

Stay.

I snorted. Like that was going to happen. I was done waiting around for him.

I’d had enough sitting around, cooped up in this cage, bored out of my mind and itching to explore my environment. One of my favorite things about moving to a new place was exploring, learning all about it, and discovering all of its secrets. Then when the thrill was gone, and I became bored again, I’d move on to another exciting adventure. Sometimes I stayed only days, and sometimes I settled in for months or a year. I never knew what my future held, and it made every day exhilarating.

If I acted like an invalid and stayed in Nathan’s cabin much longer, I’d lose my ever-loving mind. After I showered, I didn’t bother with clothes since I would just take them back off when I shifted. As I made my way through the open living room to the back door, I could already feel my tension fading. Then I stepped out into the sunshine and took a deep breath. I felt as if I’d just cut the strings to a corset and could finally fill my lungs with air.

The temperature was on the warmer side for autumn, and I could hear the faint laughter of children playing tag. The joyful sound brought a smile to my face and I lightly touched my stomach, wondering what my child’s laughter would sound like. A realization hit me right then. I didn’t want my baby to grow up isolated like I had. He or she should have friends to play with and family around to love and care for them. It wasn’t something I craved—in fact, it made me feel a little suffocated—but I wanted my little one to have options, to choose their own path, just as I had.

No matter what happened, I promised my baby that we’d work it out so they spent plenty of time with their dad and his pack.Besides, my cub probably had more in common with the wolves than I ever had, despite my DNA. I kept the knowledge that I was a half-breed locked up tight in a drawer I almost never opened. But a baby changed everything and there were bumps on the road ahead that I’d never expected to deal with. Considering how deep I had buried the half of me that came from wolves, I had simply assumed my child would be a panther, like me. However, reality busted its way into my mind, and I couldn’t ignore the fact that my cub didn’t even have half-panther genes. Their father was a wolf, and their maternal grandmother had been one as well.

Long forgotten memories started to surface, and the threat of a serial killer no longer seemed as terrifying as the possibility that my cub would live through the same childhood experiences as me. Suddenly, the need to shed my humanity and let my panther take over, to run and feel the freedom of the wind in her fur, overwhelmed me. She pushed hard to the surface, her protective instincts heightened by the fear and terrible memories cloistering me. I didn’t fight her, and she broke free, popping bones and tearing flesh until all that remained was a sleek, black panther.

She leapt off of the deck and raced into the woods, weaving around trees and other obstacles with ease. Euphoria flooded our minds, making our hearts race, keeping time with the light touches of her paws on the ground as she practically flew through the forest. Silver Lake was a gorgeous area and I understood why people would be happy here. We stayed away from the town because Nathan had mentioned that there were humans living among them. But we passed lovely homes all along the lake and even discovered a couple of peaceful clearings.

After a few hours, my panther meandered into a more secluded spot, one with a picturesque waterfall across from it. She stopped at the water’s edge and bent to take a long drink. When she finished, she cocked her head and examined her surroundings with interest. The next second she was in the air before diving straight into the clear water. After swimming a small distance, she popped her head back up for air and headed toward the falls.

She went directly under the heavy spray, making a sound that equaled a laugh, then climbed up onto the smooth ledge jutting out from the rock behind the curtain of water. After shaking out her coat, she inspected every inch of the outcropping before lying on her side to rest.

A few minutes later, her ears perked at the sound of another animal approaching. We immediately recognized them as a shifter, but remained wary as a petite, female, golden-red wolf padded onto the ledge from a small piece of land that connected one side of the rock to the grassy bank.

My panther slowly climbed to her feet, alert and slipping into predator mode, which meant appearing relaxed and unimposing. The wolf looked at us, her dark eyes so full of pain that I felt the sting in my own heart. My cat immediately backed down and returned to her lazy spot on the ground.

There was a stretch of tense silence, but eventually, the pitter patter of paws sounded as she moved further into the alcove. My panther lifted her head and glanced over to see the wolf still several feet away, but she circled around before lowering to the ground. She curled into herself, a classic “leave me the hell alone” sign, so my panther and I relaxed and gave her space.

After a while, I was tired of doing nothing and nudged my girl to let me out so I could look around. She huffed in annoyance, mostly because she didn’t want to move from her comfy spot, but acquiesced to my request. Once the transformation was complete, I shivered from the cold of the stone beneath my naked skin, but my body quickly adjusted to the temperature.

I rolled up into a sitting position and glanced over at the other occupant on the rock. The wolf watched me curiously, though she remained hesitant, but I sensed it was more of a battle between loneliness and the desire to shut out the world.

I scooted to the edge of the rock and dangled my feet into the foamy water, happy to enjoy the solitude. A few minutes later, I heard the tell-tale noises of my neighbor shifting into her human form, then the soft slap of bare feet on stone as she shuffled closer. She sat a few feet away and crossed her long legs in front of her before brushing her long reddish-gold hair back over her shoulders.

“Are you visiting?” Her voice was soft and sweet, but the angst I’d seen in her eyes was in the undertone.

My head swung in her direction and I met her sad, pretty brown eyes. “Yes. Sort of.” She watched me curiously, but I waved my words away. “It’s a long story. What about you?”

She paused for so long that I wondered if she’d decided not to talk after all. Then she answered as she faced forward to stare at the waterfall. “I…I just moved here—joined the pack, I mean.”

I nodded and placed my palms on the ground behind me before leaning back and raising my eyes to the cliff overhead. “Where are you from?”

Again, her answer was a long time coming. “A world away, and yet not far.”

I chuckled and followed the water with my gaze as it fell, splashing into the pool below. “Believe it or not, I know the feeling.” I’d spent a chunk of my childhood with a pack not far from Silver Lake. But I hadn’t been back or had contact with anyone since I left for boarding school. Sometimes that time seemed like an out-of-body experience, as if I’d watched it happen but hadn’t lived it, which made the place and people feel as if they existed on another plane.

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