Page 12 of Pretty Kitten

“Let’s get one thing straight,” a deep voice interrupted her inner pity party, and, when she lifted her eyes, Daunte was just in front of her, invading her personal space. “None of us - not one of us - will lay a hand on you. You got it?”

His amber eyes had changed to a gold shade, as Ace’s did when she was pissed. She’d never seen his shift that way though. Clari gulped and bobbed her head.

“And you’re not the only one the law would condemn,” he added, pointing towards the baby now sleeping in her arms.

Her eyes bulged. They’d hurt a kid? No way! They couldn’t.

“Hopefully, nothing will come of it. Turners are extremely rare.”

“But what if he is one? What then?” she insisted. She couldn’t just let it go, even if the probability was minimal. She needed to know, if only to prepare herself.

Rye was the one who replied.

“If he is one, and you turn, your body and mind will suddenly be forced to become something else. You’ll change in every way. You may hate it. You may love it. You won’t understand it. But we’ll be here to guide you. If you shift, you’ll be a Wyvern.”

There were nods of assent all around.

She didn’t know just how tense she had been until her shoulders sagged in relief. She wasn’t going to be expected to deal with all that alone. Of course not. She felt a little silly for even thinking of it.

“But, the law…”

“No one will think to test Zack for years. As long as we’re careful - which means never letting him out of sight, never letting him close to a human being - they’ll never know what happened. When the council sends someone to see him… well, we know a few witches. I’m sure we’ll find a workaround.”

That sounded good, right?

“As for you- that could get complicated. Your friends, family- everyone will need to carry on thinking that you’re what you’ve always been until now. That would take a lot of self-control on your part. Never showing your true nature. But with training, there’s no reason why you won’t manage.”

Clari had smiled. Okay, that didn’t sound all that bad, did it? In fact, if she was entirely honest, if only to herself, she didn’t mind the idea of shifting.

Not at all.

“In the meantime, you’re going to have to stay here, under observation for the rest of the week. The first shift is always the worst. We can close the bakery; with Zack’s birth, no one will question it.”

Chapter 9

Catching a Break

It took a lot to get a shifter drunk, but Daunte was doing his best to try, pouring one brandy after the next. He needed it, if only for a night. Maybe then, he’d manage to stop thinking. About her.

There was a very, very good chance that nothing had changed. She was just a normal, human girl, and she would remain so. But telling himself that, repeating it, almost chanting it, didn’t change what he and his cat wanted.

Until then, they’d both been reasonable. They wanted her, but it was just a passing fancy he could get over. Relationships between humans and shifters could work, but not when the male was as dominant as he was. He needed a female strong enough to push back, or a submissive who understood the rules enough to fold under his demands; humans didn’t get what their animal counterparts demanded; they could push, and push, ignoring the dominance, and end up getting hurt in the process. Daunte didn’t think he was able to ever lay a hand on a woman, but he wasn’t about to question facts that had defined his race for hundreds of years. Their animals could burst to the surface in anger when provoked.

Now that she’d been bitten, there was a possibility, a minuscule, quasi-nonexistent possibility, that she might have been turned and he entertained the idea. Clari in his arms. Clari’s hand in his. Clari smiling up at him. Clari panting underneath him.

So, yeah. He fully intended to get drunk until it passed.

He genuinely didn’t think anything could improve his sour mood until the phone in his pocket beeped. Pulling it, he frowned at the unknown number, until he read the text.

Nice day in Mexico.

That managed to get a smile out of him. Emily. It had to be Emily, telling him she was safe - or at least, alive. If she was smart, and he was pretty sure she was, she wasn’t anywhere near Mexico. But she was well enough to send him a message, and that was what mattered. He hadn’t abandoned her to her death.

“Wow. Daunte Cross smiling. I didn’t think that was possible.”

If he hadn’t imbibed a dozen brandies, he would have heard and smelled her before she could get too close.

Daunte put the phone back in his pocket, and turned to face Clari.

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