Page 10 of Fated to the Panther

I was the one panting.

My wantonness surprised me, never really believing such pleasure existed. I’m so happy I was so very wrong.

“Bed. I want you laid out for me on my bed.” Roane’s whispered demand against my ear shot another tremor through me.

I moaned yes, again not recognizing my own voice.

Roane grasped the back of my thighs and lifted me against him as he marched to the bed. The change in pressure and a different angle against my clit almost made me come, and I let out a frustrated sigh. “Wait, more.”

His chest rumbled at my disappointment. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll make you come as many times as you need.”

I expected to be tossed onto the mattress, but a loud trill filled the room. Roane froze and dropped his forehead to mine. “Fucking perimeter alarm,” he rasped, “Dammit. We’re not alone.”

Dazed, I managed a nod before the heat from Roane’s body left me and for the first time in my life, I felt no shame in calling upon my long-buried magic to take care of whatever dared to come between me and losing my virginity.

Chapter

Eight

ROANE

Amazement filled me at the sight of my mate on my bed. But was more incredible was the power emanating from her. Her palms had risen, and balls of light hovered over her flesh.

“Uh, love. Easy. Tell me what’s happening right now?” Nodding toward her hands, I held my arms out as I tried to calm the tempest brewing in her eyes. “It’s okay. I’ll handle things. Can you lower your arms for me?”

She slowly did as I asked. I sensed the magic she’d called up lessening until the light she held in her hands winked out. “What was all that about, love?’”

Rapidly blinking, her eyes returned to normal, she shook her head, then focused on me. “I, that hasn’t…it’s been forever since I’ve used my magic. I can use it to uh, move things.” Her grin lit up her face.

“Well, damn. That’ll come in handy. But not tonight, okay?” I couldn’t wait to quiz her on what else her power could do, but like everything today, it would have to wait.

Whoever interrupted us would soon beg for their lives as my hypersensitive hearing tuned in to the indistinct murmurs and movement from the balcony. There were two distinct voices. One I’d spoken with not hours ago, and the other, what seemed like a lifetime had passed since our last meeting.

My parents.

“Demons?” Kara asked.

The worry in her voice hit me hard. I never wanted her to believe I couldn’t protect her. More so my panther, who began to chuff insistently.

“Unfortunately, worse. Stay right there. I expect to pick back up exactly where we left off as soon as I get rid of them.”

“What could possibly be worse than demons? Do panthers have a natural enemy I’m not aware of?”

I snorted. “If you count a goddess and an otherworlder as enemies, then yes. But these enemies? I can handle.”

“Wait. Otherworlder. Is that a nonthreatening way of saying alien? As in capital A-L-I-E-N, alien?” Kara’s kiss-bruised lips were a beacon I had to ignore because, of course, my parents chose now to insert themselves in my life.

Not sure how much time I had, but it definitely wasn’t enough to give an explanation about my father and equally unexplainable mother, I crept to the doorway and observed what could only be described as an unprecedented event. To my memory, they had gone centuries without seeing each other.

Dammit, Kara had witnessed merely a fraction of my capabilities. What I hadn’t had time to tell her was that my brothers and I were unique in the immortal world thanks to our parentage. And I wasn’t sure what to expect from my father, especially which form he’d decided to take for this visit.

When my parents didn’t attempt to enter, I did what any son would do when faced with beings who could end me with a mere thought. I eavesdropped.

“Whatever. Just tell me why you’re here?” Athena, Goddess of War and a dozen other titles, her tone as imperial as ever, looked down her nose at Tiegh, or rather at his chest as he was almost eight feet tall. His form human, towering, muscular and lethal. The thing about our father was he was able to shift into any form imaginable and, thankfully, today, he chose to look like his sons.

We’d heard the humans describe us a cross between MMA fighters and bodybuilders. The only feature that distinguished us from one another was our hair, from my shaved skull. I loathed taking care of it ever since I became frozen in my immortality during my third decade. The rest ranged from silver to dark brown in varying lengths.

My favorite prank ever was sending them hot rollers and a year’s supply of conditioner which I’d ordered from the humans’ favorite twenty-four-hour shopping network. Looked as if Tiegh needed a set of rollers as his mane of hair rivaled that of Trace’s, our youngest brother who wore his flowing white-blond locks the longest.

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