Savage Sanctuary 2: Panther Moon (2 page)

Morgan screamed. She’d know the sound of her mother’s voice anywhere. Jerking

9

Regina Carlysle

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

10

Panther Moon

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 11

Regina Carlysle

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.”

12

Panther Moon

“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.”

Titus looked at her, his gold-colored eyes burning and intense. The force of his love rolled from him to her and settled like a tender ache in her heart. “You are amazing.”

“I’m glad you’ve finally realized it.”

Grinning wickedly, he smacked her ass. “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“Mm. Suspect you’ll find a way to try to bring me down a notch or two.”

Titus laughed and stood, holding her in his arms. “Never. Hell, I like a sassy

woman!”

“Glad to hear it.”

13

Regina Carlysle

His arms bunched around her as he carried her from the office and into the dark

bedroom. Together they landed in a heap among the rumpled bed sheets. Titus’ hands

went immediately to the tie at her waist and within seconds she was as naked as he.

Titus latched on to a nipple and sucked hard as his other hand zeroed in on the petals of her wet pussy. His fingers teased her body, dipping deep into her vagina and she

answered this toying quest with quick, tightening against them. The remnants of her

dream lingered on the edges of her mind and, as always, her husband was completely

in tune with her emotions.

“Don’t play with me, Titus. Take me hard and fast. I’m dying for you.”

Titus lifted his head from her breast and kissed her, sending his tongue into his

mouth with a savage hunger that she happily returned. He tasted her fully, nipping her tongue and Mahara felt her gums tingle as her fangs threatened to elongate in her

mouth. Thrilling tingles set up between her legs as Titus’ hands played with her aching flesh. Suddenly he lightly pinched her clit and her back arched from the bed. Her belly pressed his and she writhed against him as he continued his tender torment.

He broke the wild kiss and pressed his mouth to her throat.

Ah! Fangs!

She sucked in a breath as they scraped along her skin, teased between her breasts,

and nipped at her belly. Since her hour of turning, she’d learned to appreciate the

power of a well-placed bite. Cream drenched her pussy, coating both her inner thighs

and Titus’ busy fingers. He emitted a low, coughing sound that was common to their

species.

“Titus!”

Quickly he thrust his fingers into her pussy. In, out, he plunged them deep and

hard. Mahara cried out at the intensity of the pleasure and her body quivered for more.

Managing a glance at him as he crouched low over her, she noted the intense focus in

his gaze, the flash of his feral incisors, gleaming white in the darkness and for a split second she tensed. Titus made a low, animalistic sound and struck, sinking his teeth

14

Panther Moon

into the notch between her inner thigh and her mons. She screamed as pleasure spiked, sharp and wild. His raspy tongue raked across needy flesh and she spiraled higher. Her hands reached down to clasp his head, holding him against her as she lost control in

that blinding moment of heat and savage completion.

Then he was inside her, thrusting, pumping. His cock was a searing hot brand,

blazing a path through pulsing tissue and melting heat. An orgasm punched through

her again. Her nails raked his shoulders and the immediate scent of his blood caused a growl to curl in her chest as her feline beast struggled to break free and run wild. Fangs elongated in her mouth. She licked at his skin and used her incisors on his mounded

chest.

“Yes!” Titus gritted his teeth as the unearthly sound of his panther’s call filled the spaces around their writhing bodies. “Gods!”

As she sank her teeth deep, he roared his release. Once they lay replete together and she was snuggled against him, the memory of her vision began to consume her again.

She knew he felt her internal struggle because he tightened his hold and buried his lips in her hair. “When is she coming? Do you know?”

“Soon, honey. I think she’s on her way now and we must be prepared to guide our

people in the way they must move forward in this world.” She stroked her hand over

the fading scratches on his shoulders and pressed her mouth to his chest. “We will

survive, my king.”

“That’s good to know, my queen.”

15

Regina Carlysle

Sanctuary was near. She could feel it in her bones and smell it in the air. Chantrea

had been on the run for what seemed days. Was it just a little over four hours ago that she’d sat back comfortably in the small house she shared with her parents and closed

her eyes, wishing for all she was worth that she could join them in the hunt? Gripping the steering wheel of the beaten old wreck of a truck that her dad had used to haul

things, she felt the burn of tears behind her eyes. Relentlessly, they slid across the surface and she stubbornly blinked them away. Damn it! She didn’t have time to cry

now. She’d cry later when she was safe from the hunters who searched for her.

Even now she could feel them practically breathing down her neck!

Guilt consumed her as grief crawled with insidious slowness into her throat,

threatening to choke her. If only she’d been able to shift. If only she’d come into her time of change earlier, she might have been there and stopped it all. What? Stop a

bullet? Even a were panther was helpless against a shot to the heart or head. She

could’ve done nothing but get herself killed too.

All she really knew at this point was that she was alone.

Drunken hunters looking for a quick thrill had stalked and killed the most

important people in her life. Now she had no home to call her own. Trea had been

unable even to bury her dead. Tears poured down her face and ruthlessly, she scrubbed her palm over her cheeks. The only option left to her was run to Sanctuary and hope

their king, Titus Declan would take her in, have mercy on her.