Panther moon, p.1
Panther Moon, page 1
Panther Moon
Regina Carlsysle
Savage Sanctuary, Book Two
Running for her life, Chantrea Morgan, unmated and approaching her time of change, stumbles through the night only to be rescued by a gorgeous yet dangerous male. Blinded by instant recognition of her mate, she clings to him, her only means of salvation. Her body burns for him. Her heart aches with the need to be claimed by this wild Texas panther.
Hudson Cates, warrior of the Turquoise Moon tribe of shifters, saves his grieving mate and brings her home to claim her in the only way he can…with orgasmic pleasure, savage possession and a raw sensuality that is bred into their species. In a ritual as old as time, only he, aided by another male from their tribe, can help Trea embrace her panther beast.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Panther Moon
ISBN 9781419933370
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Panther Moon Copyright © 2011 Regina Carlysle
Edited by Helen Woodall
Cover art by Dar Albert
Electronic book publication March 2011
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Panther Moon
Regina Carlysle
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Grateful Dead: Grateful Dead Productions, Inc.
Harley: H-D Michigan, LLC
Jell-O: Kraft Foods Global Brands, LLC
Riverwalk: Paseo Del Rio, Inc
Chapter One
Chantrea carried an armload of supper dishes to the sink, the muted sounds of the television playing in the living room, making her smile. Sounded like a baseball game to her. Being an addict to the game was her dad’s one true vice. Her mother, Celia, laughed at something Brant said. Typical evening in the Morgan household. Outside the modest Texas home, crickets chirped as the wind rustled the leaves of ancient oaks and cottonwoods. An owl hooted from a faraway branch. “Hey, Mom, dinner was great,” she called as she loaded the dishwasher, turned it on and headed into the living room.
Celia smiled from her position curled up against her husband of several centuries. “Love it when a new recipe turns out.”
Brant kissed the top of his wife’s blonde head and winked at Trea as she wandered into the room. “You did good, hon.”
As an unmated female panther, she had grown up knowing she wanted what her parents had. Love. Affection. The deepest kind of understanding between mates. It was so heartwarming to witness their love firsthand. She was constantly in awe.
Wandering to the wide mantel over the fireplace, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her worn jersey shorts and looked at the pictures lovingly displayed there. “I miss Maxwell.” Her sigh was soft but even over the sounds of the game she knew her folks heard it.
“Your brother had to leave, honey. It was his time,” her mother said with calm conviction. Trea turned at the slight hitch evident in her mother’s voice and knew Mom missed him too. “He likes his job in Houston though he still hasn’t found any females of our species. There are just so few of us left but maybe, just maybe he’ll be one of the lucky males to find the perfect mate. You would think it easy in a city of over five million people. I know it hurts that he had to go but it’s natural, honey. He’s a man and gods know there is no future out here in the boonies. We’ve lived like hermits for so long.” Celia lifted a brow and glanced at Brant. “It hasn’t been fair to either of our children.”
Trea picked up the framed photo of her brother and herself taken during one of their rare family vacations. Tracing the handsome, male face, she blinked back moisture from her eyes as a blast of love caught her off guard. Like her, Max was blond and green-eyed but there the similarities stopped. Where she was slender, small, and to her way of thinking, rather ordinary, her brother Maxwell was a bonafide heartstopper. The gorgeous rascal was built like a tree trunk, broad-shouldered and handsome as sin. He was the kind of guy who’d made the local girls melt but he had carefully avoided all but the most necessary entanglements with humans. Smart dude. Trea was so proud of him and couldn’t help but wish him well in finding a mate of his own. The lady would be a very lucky feline. No doubt about it.
Behind her, Trea heard her parents shift position and she turned, surprised, when her dad pushed a button on the remote to turn off the television. Silence, sharp and somewhat ominous, fell into the depths of the small cabin. “We need to talk, princess.”
Frowning, she replaced the photo and gingerly sat on the edge of an overstuffed chair to look at her parents. Something about her father’s tone sent worry to dance over her spine. “What’s up, Dad?”
Brant Morgan focused his gaze on her. “Your mother and I have been talking.” He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. “Chantrea, you are nearing your time. Maybe this is a good moment to—”
Trea’s face burned. “Dad!”
Celia patted Brant’s arm. “Love of mine, you are so clueless. Let me.”
He shook his head and sighed heavily, seeming downright relieved to let someone else tackle the delicate subject of a female were panther having her first heat. “Good. Go for it.”
Celia wasn’t deterred, focusing an intelligent gaze on her. “For all these years, we’ve tried to keep you safe out here in the country. You know panthers are solitary creatures and it’s uncomfortable for us to live among crowds. It’s stifling. Invasive. It was a huge risk for us to even let you attend the public school in town but, honey, we have worried so much about you. You’ve been so isolated out here in the woods of east Texas. No friends. Nothing that normal human girls come to enjoy. You don’t have a real life out here.”
“But I’m not human, Mom. It’s okay.” Chantrea knew darn good and well her life wasn’t normal. Sometimes it made her sad but this wasn’t the fault of her parents. They had to protect her. It was their duty and she would never fault them for the lonely state of her life. She shook her head and smiled, not wanting them to stress about the choices they’d made. “Really. Don’t worry about me.”
“We have to, Trea,” her dad said, leaning forward to prop his forearms over his sturdy thighs. “It wasn’t possible for you to date the local boys, honey. You know we don’t mix but you are a woman now. Things are, um—”
Once again, Celia put her hand out to stop him. “Happening to your body.”
Trea swallowed hard, knowing the utter truth of Mom’s words. Already she felt flashes of heat zip through her with astounding effect. Soon she would be helpless to the oncoming change and facing the shift from woman to panther would be the most horrible thing imaginable when dealing with it alone. She knew she couldn’t do it. The time to mate was upon her. Discomfort climbed over her flesh and buried itself deep in her belly. “Do we have to talk about this now?”
“We’ve decided to move to Sanctuary,” her dad baldly stated. “It’s time.”
Sanctuary, an area in south central Texas, had been set aside years ago by their king, Titus Declan, who believed the survival of the were panther depended on them building a community. It was brilliant. Truly, brilliant. Bring them all together in the same place, ensuring males and females could find mates, band together for protection from human predators, and have some kind of normalcy in their lives. Still, her father had balked at the idea of giving up the solitude every panther craves. So they’d remained in their little wilderness home, shielded from the world. “I can’t believe this, Dad. You would give up your home just to take care of me? I’m a grown woman. I can take care of myself. I’ll go. Alone. You and Mom stay here.”
Brant surged to his feet. “Damn it, we’re a family. It doesn’t matter how old you are, we love you. We need to be part of your life, Trea. When your brother finally left, it almost—”
“Broke our hearts,” her mother finished. Odd how they always finished each other’s sentences. “He had to go. A man doesn’t continue to live with his folks but honey, you’re our girl. We should be near. There will come a time when you’ll find a mate of your own, you’ll have offspring.” Tears filled green eyes. “I just don’t want to lose you completely.”
Dad put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We’re selling the place. It has been decided. Honey, you must find a mate and if we don’t head out to find others of our kind, you will be in very serious trouble. It’s settled.”
An hour later, Trea sat curled up with a book watching covertly as her mom and dad walked hand in hand through the front door. Laughing, her mom looked back over her shoulder. “We’re going for a romp, sweetie. See you in a bit.”
She knew it might be longer than a bit. They loved nothing more than to strip down at the edge of the woods and shift into their beasts. Once they’d gone, she closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the cushiony fabric of the couch. So many changes ahead. A new place, new people. How would it feel to actually socialize with others of her species? An odd excitement filled her, along with a healthy dose of nerves. And maybe, just maybe, she would find her mate and her years of loneliness would end.
Trea closed her eyes and drifted off to the sounds of nature at play outside the walls of her home.
A loud shotgun blast ripped through the night, quickly followed by another. Celia Morgan screamed. She’d know the sound of her mother’s voice anywhere. Jerking awake, she came to her feet as a feral hiss blasted from her throat. Trea didn’t have time to question a sound she’d never made in her adult life as she raced to the cabin door and flung it open. Her parents lay at the end of the clearing, their naked bodies flashing quickly from human to panther until finally all movement stopped and they reclaimed their feline form in death.
Trea’s scream of pain and rage froze in her throat and her gums tingled violently. Somebody would die tonight. Somebody would pay. Gods! Barefoot, she ran to the edge of the porch when the hunters came into view.
“Fuck me blind, Tom. Did you see that?”
“Hell yeah. It’s the Morgans. I went to school with their daughter.” Tom Hawkins stepped closer, still pointing his rifle at Brant Morgan’s panther body. He whistled low and shook his head. “I’ll be damned. Can you believe this shit?”
Trea went still. She didn’t recognize the first man who spoke but she certainly knew the other. He was a local hoodlum. A big, dumb redneck. Nobody ever died from being a redneck hick and a bully but he’d crossed the line tonight. Another low hiss burst from Trea’s lips. Fighting back waves of grief, holding them for another time, a better moment, she crouched low wishing with everything in her that she was mated and fully panther. Over the past weeks her senses had been keener, her mind sharper. Trea sniffed the air and scented whiskey along with the smell of her parents’ blood. Though her heart ached, her rage, in that instant of raw pain, was stronger.
Finally the other man spoke again. “Then that means—”
Tom’s head snapped up as he spotted her on the porch. “Get her, Walt. She’s one o’ them. I want that snooty bitch’s head hangin’ on my wall.” He pointed his weapon and fired. Wood from the door frame splintered and flew in every direction. Trea knew she was no match for a gun and she was certainly not capable of fighting off two drunken men. If she were fully panther, her options would be much different.
The time for thinking over, Trea let her well defined sense of self-preservation kick in and she turned in a whirl of movement and headed through the house grabbing the keys to her parents’ truck on the way out the back door. Her bare feet pounding against the warm grass, she made it to the truck and started it up.
Another shot rang out to shatter the back windshield of the old pickup. No time. No time. Gotta go. Staying here meant death at the hands of her parents’ killers. She wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Not by a long shot. Trea hit the gas and kicking up a cloud of dust behind her, made her escape.
* * * * *
In the dead of night the vision came rolling through her dreams, whipping any semblance of calm into a frenzy of motion. Mahara Declan, caught in those quiet moments between sleep and wakefulness, shifted in her bed and opened her mind. From the mists, a woman’s voice cried out to her. The panic was unmistakable. The fear. The terror. Mahara suffered it along with her because in her heart she knew they were kin. They were both panthers, both women. The prophetic dream unfurled in her mind and she knew this unknown woman belonged to them. She was destined to be part of the Turquoise Moon panther tribe and Mahara knew in that instant of revelation that others would follow her, thus ensuring the continuation of their species.
Bolting upright in the bed, immediately realizing her husband Titus no longer slept beside her, she stumbled to her feet and wiped the remnants of tears from her cheeks. She threw a lightweight robe over her bare body and padded toward the door on the other side of their massive bedroom. A meager light shone from beneath it and she knew that when Titus couldn’t sleep he often retreated into his cozy, private office to think about his troubles.
Mahara opened the door, her heart expanding at the sight of her mate hunched over his desk, the glow of the computer screen casting white light over the well-defined lines of his face. His long, black hair was mussed as if he’d spent the past hours raking his fingers through it. Though the prophetic dream still held her deep in its grip, she softened as sexual need raced wicked fingers over her body, her thighs. The intangible need curled deep in her pussy setting up a throb in flesh that was tender, on fire. Her nipples pearled beneath the satin of her robe. Even after the years they’d been together, she couldn’t look at him without being overcome.
He glanced up, a vacant expression in his golden eyes, and then sudden recognition seeped into them. “Darling, did I wake you?”
Mahara shook her head and went to him. As if anticipating her actions, her giant panther rolled back in his chair and stretched out so she could settle herself on his lap. He was naked, dark, ripped, completely yummy, and all hers. “No, I dreamed,” she whispered as she sank against his warm, muscular body. “It woke me.” Unable to resist his scent, she buried her nose in his hair and inhaled.
Titus’ arms went around her. “Tell me.”
“A woman stepped out of the mist. She was one of us. Two men approached her from opposite sides. They touched her and kissed her. One male was dominant over her.”
“A mate and his second? Did you know the female?”
In their culture, mates recognized each other by their scent and it usually occurred very near the time of the female’s shift into her panther identity. It was a dangerous proposition for the women of their species and many had been lost over the centuries leaving their race vulnerable to extinction. The shift from human to panther was difficult and sometimes deadly. No one knew the why of it but it was commonly accepted. Over the years, it had been discovered that the addition of a second male into the transition phase eased things along. A second was something like a human best man at a traditional human wedding yet this guy would join the couple in their bed while the female adjusted to her feline form. Weeks later, he would leave them and wait for the day when he would find his own mate.
Mahara looked up at her husband and shook her head. “She was a stranger yet one of us. Men were after her, Titus. Hunters. My dream spoke of death and blood and discovery. It is just the beginning of what we will face.”
“We have worked to hide our true identities for centuries while mixing with humans. Bringing our people here to our land is the best course of protecting ourselves and our way of life,” Titus said. “What do you know of the hunters?”
She shook her head. “Not much. Just that they are coming.”
“Where is the woman?”
“She’ll be coming to us soon. I don’t know from where exactly but I could feel her running frantically toward Sanctuary.”
Titus sighed and let his head drop back to settle on the padded leather of his chair. He slipped his hand into the loose front of her robe to toy with her nipple. Pleasure slid with lazy intent through her body to settle low in her belly. Beneath her ass, Titus’ cock hardened. “It has been my dream for all these many years to bring my people together in one place, to see us thrive again. Damn it, there are far too few of us.”
Mahara settled her lips on his forehead. “I know, honey. If we could gather the women here, the men will follow. There is plenty of room to build in the area. South Central Texas is full of wide-open spaces and we already own a huge amount of land surrounding the compound. Separate houses for our mated panthers with lots of privacy would be the perfect answer to the solitary nature of our beasts. Yet we would be together for protection from humans who might prey on us.”
