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Hunted
Intensity Excerpt
Carallon,
865 Neshan Calendar
The
sleek black tiron padded through the hazy light of the cloudy
afternoon. Cold winds from the early summer storm barely
penetrated its thick fur. Leaves crunched under its large
paws as it paced through the forest and his fur stuck up
in wet tufts from the sporadic rain. More was coming. The
tiron could scent the water in the air and feel the energy
of the storm crackling in the air.
He lifted his head and his nostrils flared as he pulled
in the cool mountain air. Her scent was stronger now. He’d
found her trail earlier in the city and the lingering scent
had caused a possessive lust to explode through him. His
mate! Finding her had been his only thought. He’d
left the city and began following her into the forest near
the city. He knew there was something he should have done,
but he couldn’t push past the drive to get to her.
The knowledge that there was something he should be doing
nagged at the edge of his mind, just out of reach. For now,
all that mattered was her.
He had no idea why she was traveling alone through the mountains.
Well, alone except for the canil with her. The animal’s
tracks and scent had remained constantly at her side the
entire time he’d been tracking her. It obviously wasn’t
stalking her. It had to be a pet or a guard animal, because
the beast’s scent was mixed with hers. In spite of
the fact that she wasn’t totally without protection,
he needed to be with her. Every instinct within him screamed
for him to find her and protect her.
He had to get to her. She was alone and a storm would break
soon. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew she
was safe with him. He wouldn’t let anything happen
to her.
Tyson shook his head. He could feel a strange cloud growing
in his mind. He knew that the wild instinctual part of him
held more control than usual. At this point, little else
mattered except finding his woman. He had no idea what he’d
encounter as he trailed her around the mountain and away
from the city, but he would get to her.
* * * * *
Tori brought more wood into the large cabin. She wanted
to have enough to last through the night and into tomorrow
although she doubted the storm would last past the morning.
She’d have to shelter here until the storm passed.
Not that her aunt would miss her. Tori knew her aunt had
made a place for her there after Tori’s brothers disappeared
only because Tori’s uncle had ordered it. Since her
uncle wasn’t there now, her aunt didn’t hide
her animosity. If he had been at home, Tori wouldn’t
have been sent to the city to deliver those goods on her
own.
Still, the drop off of the wares had happened as planned.
The trouble had happened on the way back to the valley when
the storm had hit. The michkal had run off when one of the
first claps of thunder had sounded. The sturdy pack animal
wasn’t the fastest beast, but she didn’t have
a hope of catching it when it was panicked. She had no doubt
that it would make it back to the stables on its own, but
Tori wasn’t risking the mudslides and floods that
could happen on this mountain on foot. Those bulging, deep
gray clouds promised more than the small patches of rain
that had been dumped so far.
She’d never been so glad to see a place as she had
to see this isolated hunting cabin. Coming back from the
town, she’d known she wouldn’t make it back
to the valley before those heavy clouds burst. In good weather,
it took nearly two days to reach the village from this point.
On foot and in bad weather when there was a chance of flooding
from rain, it could take more than extra time. It could
take her life. The forest trails could be treacherous, not
to mention the rivers. She expected a lonely, but hopefully
short stay at the cabin. She didn’t think any other
villagers were travelling and only someone familiar with
the area would know of the shelter and that it would be
stocked with the essentials.
Putting the wood down along the inside wall, she turned
and whistled. Mirlu, her big, gray canil trotted over to
her and into the cabin. She closed the door and barred it.
Wiping her muddy boots on the thick brown woven rug near
the door, she hung her wet coat on a peg near the door.
Finally, she could get warm and rest for a while. She took
the wood to the rough hewn box near the fireplace and pulled
off her boots as she settled in for the night.
Tori added a couple of logs to the fire and stirred the
soup in pot hanging in the huge rock fireplace. The cabin
was stark and definitely bare. There weren’t even
chairs or beds, only the essentials, supplies and a couple
of pots for cooking. She took a seat on the cushions she’d
placed on the bare plank floor in front of the fireplace
and leaned back on her arms relaxing for a moment. She had
a fire for warmth, a comfortably padded pallet for the night
and soup to eat.
Now, she could rest while the storm rolled overhead. It
was a relief and a much better option than having to stay
out in the cold rain and eat whatever she could find in
her bag or on the trail. That could have happened if the
michkal had run off a little later in the trek around the
mountain and through the forest to the valley.
Dozing slightly as the warmth of the fire filled the cabin,
her eyes snapped wide in alarm as the door rattled against
the bar holding it closed. Mirlu stood and walked to the
door, but he didn’t growl or even seem alarmed. His
head cocked to the side and his long, pointed ears swiveled.
Must be the wind. She turned back to the fire. The door
banged against the bar again, but this time, it did it three
times in a row. That couldn’t be just the wind.
The fact that Mirlu wasn’t agitated reassured her.
The canil was protective and if it was anything or anyone
he considered a threat, he’d be all fangs and growls.
She rose to her feet and walked over to the door. She cautiously
slid the board free of one of the loops and pulled the door
open a little to look outside. Even though Mirlu wasn’t
worried, she wasn’t going to take chances. The plank
would keep it from opening fully.
She looked out and at first didn’t see anything, but
then she looked down. A sleek black form stood right in
front of the door. A big feline paw with long, sharp claws
raked at the door. A tiron. She blinked. She’d only
seen the animal form of a Santir shapeshifter in a book,
but she couldn’t mistake it. Looking back at Mirlu,
she raised her brows. Not a threat? The animal was huge.
He stood chest high, muscled and she’d bet those claws
of his had left marks on the door. She’d never met
one of them, but she knew there were a couple of groups
in the area.
The tiron stumbled sideways as it raised its paw to scratch
at the door again. It didn’t even seem to be aware
that she had it partially open. Okay, something was wrong.
Maybe it, he or she, was hurt. Now, that she wasn’t
gaping in shock, she noticed that the tiron’s sides
heaved with labored breaths. Where were the tiron’s
friends? She knew shifters tended to stay in groups and
seldom traveled alone. Wondering why the Santir was here
during one of the worst storms to hit the area in years
was going to have to wait. He was in trouble and obviously
needed help.
She pushed the door closed far enough to remove the bar
fully and then opened the door. Stepping to the side, she
held open the door so the tiron could enter. The tiron’s
eyes fixed on hers and it took a slow step forward. Its
rounded head pressed into her stomach and even through the
fabric of her shirt, she felt him take in a deep breath.
A rolling purr rumbled through the beast as he turned and
entered the cabin. The beast’s triangular ears swiveled
and tipped back. He couldn’t seem to walk a straight
line as he moved into the room.
She frowned as she followed after shutting and barring the
cabin door. What had that been about? Who was this shifter?
Mirlu seemed comfortable with him, but right now she was
questioning the canil’s ability to know what was dangerous.
That shifter was huge and the claws on those paws looked
lethal.
The tiron plopped on his butt in the middle of the floor
and watched her with deep green eyes. Tori raised an eyebrow.
She’d expected the tiron to change into human form.
From what she knew about them, they weren’t shy about
nudity, but maybe he was being considerate of her.
Tori bit her lip. She had no idea if she’d be able
to find any clothing to fit him among those on the shelf
in the storage room. At least, she thought it was a he.
After the way he’d pressed against her and the intense
look in his eyes, she hoped it was a he. Without getting
a little personal and much closer to him, she couldn’t
be sure. Until he or she changed and there was proof, she’d
just think of it as he. She didn’t even know what
he really looked like or how tall he was. Shaking her head,
she closed her eyes for a moment and took a calming breath
as she ordered her thoughts. She was getting ahead of herself.
The shifter needed to get warm and dry first and then they
could see if there were some pants or something to fit him.
“I’ll go get a pallet and blankets for you.
It’s wet and chilly out there. You look a little drenched,”
Tori said hesitantly before she turned and headed toward
the door to the storage area. She felt a little strange
talking to a huge animal, but she knew he could or at least
should be able to understand her.
She opened the door and stepped into the cool cave carved
from the dark gray and black mountain stone. Shelves filled
with dried food, blankets and other supplies lined the walls.
She stacked blankets, thick padding as well as a towel on
one of her arms. Taking a chance that they might fit, she
added a pair of soft thick cloth pants to the pile. She
turned to go back into the main cabin and stumbled to a
stop. The tiron stood in the doorway. Deep green eyes locked
on her. They burned with intensity as he watched her every
move. She hadn’t seen such strong emotion blazing
from anyone’s eyes before.
Her nerves stretched taut. She eased by the animal and glanced
nervously back over her shoulder as she walked across the
room. He followed her with a stumbling, weaving gait that
worried her. She couldn’t think of anything other
than time to help that.
Tori spread the padding near the fire and piled on a blanket
or two. She put the towel and pants near the bedding and
turned down the blankets as she stepped back. Her feet touched
fur and she felt something brush against her thigh. She
stiffened and stopped, managing not to trip over him. Looking
back, she saw his head brushing against her thigh.
“Why don’t you change and dry off so you can
get under the covers and warm up a little?” She moved
to the side and half-turned to give him or her some privacy
in case they were shy.
The tiron rose and paced a circle around her. His large
heavy body pressed against her and she felt the dampness
of his fur through her pants. His long tail hooked around
her leg just before she turned her eyes firmly to the wall.
She waited and waited, hoping that he’d say something
once he was covered. She heard a light thud and that drew
her eyes to the pallet.
He sat on the pallet without so much as a blanket pulled
over his legs. Goddess above, the man was sexy. Long straight
black hair hung over his wide shoulders. His rich, brown
skin gleamed in the flickering firelight. Dark spots at
his jaw and ribs were barely visible against the rich tone
and noticeable only because she couldn’t take her
gaze off him. His green eyes looked unfocused as if he was
drunk or drugged. His long lashes lowered and rested against
his cheeks drawing her attention to the high arch of his
cheekbones. A smile curved his full lips.
“I found you.” The man’s words slurred
together, but were clear enough that she had no problem
understanding them.
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