Page 7 of Panther Heart's Secret Passion
Adrienne
I followed Allen through the dark forest, my boots crunching on pine needles, my heart still racing from the sight of my trashed motel room. The air was cold, the fog thick, but he moved like he knew every step of the path, guiding me deeper into the woods until we reached a small cabin tucked in a clearing. Its wooden walls glowed softly in the moonlight, and when he pushed open the door, a warm, flickering light spilled out from a fireplace inside. The room smelled of cedar and smoke, and a fur rug lay in front of the hearth, the flames casting shadows that danced across the walls. “This is a safe place,” Allen said, closing the door behind us. “Those vandals who hit your room, they won’t find you here.”
I set my bag down, my eyes narrowing as I turned to face him. “Vandals? Really, Allen? My room was torn apart, my laptop’s gone, and Benjamin’s dead with a note saying I know too much. You expect me to believe this is just random? You’re always there when things go wrong, and I’m done with your half-answers. What is going on?” My voice was sharp, frustration boiling over, my hands clenched at my sides.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, his green eyes darkening as he stepped closer. “Adrienne, I’m trying to keep you safe. That’s all you need to know right now.”
“That’s not enough!” I snapped, stepping toward him, my chest tight. “I’m not some damsel you get to drag around and keep in the dark. My career’s on the line, my life’s on the line, and you’re standing there acting like it’s nothing. Why are you always in the middle of this? Who are you, really?”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t back away. The firelight caught his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, and that damn pull in my chest, that warmth I couldn’t shake, flared stronger. Our eyes locked, and the air between us crackled, heavy with something more than anger. “You don’t make this easy,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “I’m doing everything I can to protect you, but you keep pushing.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to push if you’d just tell me the truth,” I said, my voice softer now, but still sharp. I stepped closer, my fingers brushing his chest, the heat of his skin through his shirt sending a spark through me. “I’m not afraid of the truth, Allen. I’m afraid of losing everything because you won’t let me in.”
He caught my hand, his grip gentle but firm, his eyes searching mine. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he murmured, but he didn’t pull away. The bond between us, that electric hum, was too strong, and before I could say another word, he leaned down and kissed me, his lips hard and desperate against mine. I kissed him back, my hands sliding up his chest, tangling in his hair as I pressed myself closer. The firelight danced on our skin, the warmth of the flames mixing with the heat between us.
“Adrienne,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to look at me, his hands on my waist. “This is a bad idea.”
“Then why does it feel so right?” I said, my voice bold, my hands tugging at his shirt. I pulled it over his head, my fingers tracing the hard lines of his chest, the scars that crisscrossed his skin like a map of battles fought. He lifted me onto the wooden table by the fire, his hands exploring my curves with a mix of tenderness and urgency. I arched into him, my breath catching as he peeled off my jacket, my shirt, his fingers deftly unbuttoning my jeans. His lips found the curve of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, and I gasped, my hands gripping his shoulders, urging him closer.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he said, his voice rough as he kissed along my collarbone, his hands sliding under my bra, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin beneath. I moaned softly, my fingers fumbling with the clasp until it fell away, leaving me bare under his gaze. His eyes darkened, a hungry edge to them, and he leaned in, his lips trailing slow, deliberate kisses across my chest, lingering on the curve of my breast, his tongue teasing until I arched against him, my breath ragged. “Allen,” I whispered, my voice thick with need, my hands tugging at his jeans, desperate to feel more of him.
He chuckled, low and warm, his hands guiding my jeans down my hips, his fingers brushing the inside of my thighs, igniting sparks with every touch. “You’re impatient,” he teased, but his voice was strained, his own need clear as he shed his jeans, his body lean and strong in the firelight. I pulled him closer, my legs wrapping around his waist, my hands exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the scars under my fingertips. He kissed me again, deep and hungry, his tongue sliding against mine as he pressed himself against me, the heat of his skin burning through the last of my defenses.
I guided him closer, my hands bold as I traced the line of his hip, urging him on. He entered me slowly, his eyes locked on mine, watching every flicker of my expression as I adjusted to him. My breath hitched, my nails digging into his shoulders as he moved deeper, his shifter strength controlled but undeniable. “God, Allen,” I gasped, my voice breaking as he set a rhythm, slow at first, each thrust deliberate, building a fire that matched the one in the hearth. His lips found my neck again, his teeth grazing my skin, and I tilted my head back, giving him more, my hands sliding to his hair, tugging gently as he kissed lower, his mouth warm against my collarbone.
The table creaked under us, the fire crackling as we moved faster, our bodies finding a desperate, primal rhythm. His hands gripped my hips, steadying me as I arched into him, my legs tightening around his waist, pulling him closer. My gasps mingled with his low growls, the sound raw and wild, the bond between us amplifying every sensation. I raked my nails across his back, feeling the muscles tense under my touch, and he groaned, his lips claiming mine in a fierce kiss, his tongue teasing as he thrust harder. The heat built, overwhelming, and I clung to him, my body trembling as we pushed each other higher. His hands slid to my thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to send a jolt through me, and I cried out, my voice echoing in the cabin as I reached my peak, the bond pulling him with me in a rush of heat and release.
We collapsed onto the fur rug in front of the fire, our bodies entwined, the warmth of the flames wrapping around us. My head rested on his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear, and I traced the scars on his arm, my fingers lingering on the raised lines. “These are old,” I said softly, my voice still husky. “Where’d they come from?”
He tensed, just for a second, before his hand covered mine, his voice heavy. “Broken family. Got into some fights growingup, left home young. Not much to tell.” His words were clipped, like he was shutting a door, but his thumb brushed my knuckles, softening the moment.
I propped myself up, looking at him. “That’s not nothing, Allen. You don’t have to hide it from me. I want to know you, not just the hero who keeps saving me.”
He smiled, but it was tight, guarded. “You know more than you think. I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing.”
I wasn’t buying it, but before I could push, my eyes caught his bag by the table, a knife peeking out, its handle carved with a strange symbol, like the runes I’d seen in my research on forest myths. My suspicion flared, my journalist instincts kicking in. “What’s that?” I asked, sitting up, pointing at the knife.
He followed my gaze, his face tightening. “Just a tool. Old family heirloom.” He leaned over, pulling me back to him, his lips brushing mine in a soft, distracting kiss. “I’ll tell you everything when it’s safe, okay? I promise.”
I wanted to argue, to demand more, but his kiss was warm, and that bond pulled at me, making it hard to think straight. “You better,” I said, my voice teasing but firm. “I’m not letting you off that easy.”
He chuckled, his arms tightening around me. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
A guttural howl pierced the night outside the cabin, sharp and close, cutting through the warmth of the fire. Allen tensed, his body going rigid as he sat up, his eyes darting to the window. “We’re surrounded,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent. “Enemies.”
Chapter Eight
Allen
The howl outside the cabin still echoed in my ears, sharp and menacing, as I crouched by the window, my senses straining for any sign of movement. Adrienne was curled up on the fur rug, her breath steady but her face tense, even in the firelight. The bond between us burned in my chest, urging me to stay close, but those rogues were out there, Morris’s pack, and I couldn’t let them get to her. I stood, grabbing my jacket, and kept my voice low. “Stay here, Adrienne. I need to check something outside. Lock the door behind me.”
She sat up, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Check what? Allen, you’re doing it again, shutting me out. What’s out there?”
I forced a smile, trying to keep it light. “Just some animals, probably spooked by the noise. I’ll set a few traps, scare them off. Stay inside, okay?” I didn’t wait for her to argue, slipping out the door before she could push back. The night was cold, the fog thick, and the scent of pine and damp earth filled my lungs as I moved away from the cabin. The moment I was out of sight, I shifted, my body rippling into my panther form, blackfur blending seamlessly into the shadows. My paws hit the forest floor silently, my senses sharp as I caught the rogues’ scent, acrid and heavy with menace, circling closer.
I moved swiftly, weaving through the trees, my eyes scanning the darkness. The first rogue lunged from a thicket, a gray wolf with yellow eyes, its snarl cutting through the quiet. I dodged, my claws raking across its flank, sending it yelping back into the fog. Another came from the side, a lean coyote, its teeth snapping at my shoulder. I twisted, slamming my weight into it, my jaws closing on its scruff as I threw it against a tree. The third was bigger, a bear shifter, its roar shaking the leaves as it charged. I leaped onto a low branch, then dropped onto its back, my claws digging deep until it roared in pain and retreated, crashing through the underbrush. Their snarls faded as they scattered, but I knew they’d be back. Morris wasn’t the type to give up.
I circled the cabin, making sure the rogues were gone, my heart pounding from the fight and the weight of what I was hiding. I planned to tell Adrienne I’d scared them off with traps, something simple to keep her from asking too many questions. But as I approached the cabin, my senses prickled, a faint glow cutting through the fog. Adrienne stood outside, her flashlight in hand, its beam sweeping the clearing. I froze, mid-shift, my body caught between panther and human, muscle and fur rippling as I tried to pull back into the shadows. Too late. The light hit me, and she gasped, her eyes wide with fear, the flashlight dropping to the ground with a dull thud, its beam slicing through the mist.
