Page 4 of Finding my Shifter Soulmate

I’ve finally found her. And she's absolutely breathtaking, curvy, and feminine.

I want her. I don't care where she's from or her past. I don't care why she's here in Bali or why she is alone. I want to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back into the jungle, rip off her clothes, and bury myself in her depths. I'm surprised the entire island doesn't hear the pounding in my chest or feel the heat in my soul.

Watching her strut, swinging her hips in a steady rhythm, I'm hopeless. Mindless. Lust-drunk. And though I'm hungry for her, the moment we find ourselves alone, I will control myself. I will control my desire.

No harm will come to her. On my honor as king of the spirits and guardian of Bali, she is my life now. So help me, I will make sure she is cared for, that she has shelter, food, and comfort. And everything else, including pleasure. I will take care of every single one of her needs.

So, I follow along quietly, wishing I could simply roam out into the open, casually walk right up to her, and take her by the hand. I wish I could openly talk to her and learn all about her, but I keep my paws rooted in the sandy soil.

Now that I have her scent, I will find her when I can actually communicate with her. When I can next stand upright on two legs instead of four.

Chapter Three – Sabrina

The water has been wonderful, but I'm ready to get out for a bit. After lounging in the sun, it's time for me to explore some more. My skin is hot, flushed, and a little pink, so I don my hat and sunglasses, grab my wallet, and decide to wander around. Maybe I'll find another lovely museum or perhaps an incredible historical site.

As I begin strolling the narrow streets of the small village, I pass several interesting shops, lots of quirky bakeries, and tons of restaurants. Overflowing colorful flower pots and little statues of elephants, monkeys, and even dragons line the sidewalks. Long red and gold banners with vibrant blooms are draped overhead, crisscrossing the buildings and streets. A flutter of excitement trickles down my spine and I realize I'm feeling happy.

Jean was right. This was a wonderful idea.

When my stomach starts growling, a cozy little bakery catches my eye. The air carries the delicious scents of spices, baking bread, and chocolate, so I step inside. Though I'm not familiar with the kind of delicacies they serve, they appear to have a million different types of desserts, and I'm eager to try whatever I can. I order a slice of cake with green tea filling and a coconut rum pastry topped with an adorable swirl of flan. As an extra treat, I purchase a chocolate custard egg tart. I was already excited, but then they hand me a chocolate chip shortbread cookie just for stopping in.

I'm in heaven. Thank you, Bali.

Back out on the open street, I follow a worn stone path through the dense bushes and trees until I hear music off in the distance. It must be coming from a street fair or some kind of celebration, so I head straight for the sound.

My suspicions were correct, and I come upon a big crowd of people surrounding a cluster of dancing locals. Some are performing a traditional dance, others play the drums, and two play unusual bowed string instruments. The band plays out in the open on a big patch of grass. Farther into the park, on the other side of a huge pond filled with pink lotuses, there are two men with a display of butterflies. Some perch in glass cases, and others are soaring above them in the sky.

It's the most beautiful show I've ever seen. So much wonder before my eyes! I take in everything at once, standing in the midst of it. Dancing men whirl while playing mystical music. Beautifully dressed women weave beaded necklaces. Groups of children play tag and squeal in delight. I'm feeling overwhelmed in the most delicious way.

The tempo changes, and everyone yells and cheers at the band's sudden faster beat. They all starts to dance. I've never been good about dancing in crowds before, but the energy the band and the partygoers are exhibiting is infectious. So instead of watching, I simply blend into the crowd, raise my hands in the air, and move to the music. I sashay from side to side, moving in a little circle, my hips undulating.

It's nothing like what the locals are doing, but as I scan the faces, I don't see any disdain. Only good-natured laughter and appreciation for the fun we're all having together.

With one exception.

A man stands off to the side wearing a Barong mask. He seems to be watching me, but it's difficult to tell without seeing his face. The longer he looks, the more my heartbeat quickens and the more my stomach stirs with a strange feeling. My feet find a resting spot, and I stop moving along with the music.

Do I look stupid? Probably. But still, why is he looking at me like that? The eye holes in the mask are dark. It's impossible to make out if he's scowling or if he's smiling. Still, the longer he focuses on me, the more I feel like a laser beam shot through me.

Intense. Exciting. Woozy. A little wobbly on my feet.

When another male dancer grabs me by the hand and starts twisting his hips in front of me, I finally break my stare with the masked man and chuckle. The dancer spins me around and around with the music, and I laugh out loud. At that, several other dancers pull me to join them, and before I know it, I'm in the middle of the party. Feeling, smelling, hearing it all, and it's amazing. Just a month ago, I couldn't imagine myself feeling so confident, but here I am. A completely different woman. Not shy. Not timid. Nothing like the old Sabrina.

As the song comes to an end, everyone stops to applaud the dancers and musicians. By the time the crowd disperses, the man with the Barong mask has vanished. I turn back to where he was standing, trying to spy his shape, but he's disappeared. At least, I think he has, until I pivot on my heels to walk away, and just a few feet in front of me, there he is. No longer masked.

My jaw drops at the sight of him. He's tall, a couple of inches over six feet, and his lean, muscular body makes me blush. His black hair is short, but it's messy and wild. His features are chiseled, and his eyes are the deepest shade of brown with the twinkle of an orange flare. He has highcheekbones, and when he grins, I can see that his teeth are sparkling white, straight, and perfect. He's sporting a delicious tan, and for a split second, I let my imagination wander to places I shouldn't. It’s hard not to. The man is the picture of masculine beauty.

I'm intrigued, and I decide to be a little bolder than I typically would be back home. "Hello," I say. "I hope you don't mind that I joined your dance party."

"Please," he replies with a stunning grin. "You're most welcome. You seemed to enjoy the music and dancing."

His accent is almost impossible to place. Though it’s not as strong as an Australian or an English accent, I detect the undertone of a strange dialect. His voice is firm, yet gentle and rich, and I find it instantly appealing.

"It was mesmerizing. And your mask... It's so detailed," I tell him. "It's a Barong, right? From Balinese mythology?"

"Very good!" He nods. "Most tourists don't take the time to learn about our culture. They're usually content sitting on the beach with drinks in hand."

"I'm not here to do the typical tourist routine," I confess. "I want to experience the authentic Bali. What makes it special and unique. Every corner, every moment. That's why I came here."

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