Leap of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #4)(47)

If the Scythe ever tried to capture Cold Creek as they had Dogwood, she had a feeling the humans would regret it.

Darcy wiggled in the chair, getting comfortable, and drank more wine as the conversation moved to planning the Samhain festivities at the end of the month.

Would she even be here then?

As soon as her villagers were found, she’d have to leave. And she’d never dare to return and endanger these wonderful people.





Chapter Twelve





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The misty forest clearing was quiet except for the slight rustle under a serviceberry bush. Ignoring her pushy animal instincts, Darcy ran through a mental checklist.

There was the rat. Check.

She tensed her muscles, wiggled her butt, and lashed her tail.

Body is ready. Check.

As everything came together, she pounced. Her front paws landed on the woodrat. Gotcha. Her jaws closed around its body. A high squeak made her cringe even as she felt the satisfying crack of bones. Fresh, hot blood filled her mouth.

Paw on the body, she ripped off strips of flesh and swallowed. Chewing? Nah. Within a minute, the woodrat had disappeared into her belly.

As she cleaned her muzzle, delight was a bubbly froth in her veins. Catching her own lunch still simply amazed her…aside from the ewww factor.

Recalling her surroundings, she shifted to human form and looked around for Bree.

The wolf sat on her haunches across the clearing.

“I can’t believe I just ate a rat,” Darcy said to her.

Breanne opened her jaws in a doggy laugh, shifted, and found a seat on a flat stone. “Although you took a rather long time before you pounced, you did great. Better than me, since I didn’t get good at hunting for ages. And even then, I refused to eat my kill. Zeb had to finish off what I caught. It was embarrassing.”

“I can understand why a chef might not want to indulge in rodent tartare.” In fact… Darcy swiped a hand around her mouth to make sure she cleaned away every icky drop of blood. “Now what are—”

Holding up a hand, Bree sniffed the air. “There’s a cougar around.”

Darcy inhaled and smiled. “It’s strange how a person’s animal form smells almost the same as his human form. That’s Gawain.” He must be following their trail, so he probably wanted to talk to her, which meant she shouldn’t shift back to furry.

Only, she didn’t want to talk to him without any clothes on. Where was a convenient bush to step behind when she wanted one?

Darn it, when she was immersed in lessons, being naked around her mentors didn’t bother her. They were simply her teachers. However, outside of lessons, she couldn’t ignore that they were incredibly masculine, potent, desirable males.

With a scowl, she crossed to kneel beside Bree.

Gawain bounded out into the clearing, spotted them, and padded across the sparse grass. Halfway across, he trawsfurred smoothly to human.

Wow. Just…wow. Every time she saw him undressed, her mouth went dry.

As the muted light from the sun glowed on his mist-dampened skin, it shadowed the hard-packed muscles of his wide chest. His wide shoulders tapered to a narrow, taut waist. His legs were solid, lightly dusted with hair. And his male shaft was…well, she’d guess proportional. Maybe more than proportional, but what did she know? It curved downward, long and thick, over large, round testicles.

Bree cleared her throat.

Staring. Darcy was staring at his cock. She jerked her gaze up to meet Gawain’s amused—heated—eyes.

“Ladies,” he said smoothly. The male was rarely at a loss for words. “I stopped at the lodge to ask Zeb for some help with a fan, but Zeb said he doesn’t fu…mess with mechanical tools. He said to ask you, Darcy, since you have a talent with the human-made devices.”

A compliment from terse Zeb; that was lovely. Darcy pulled in a breath of delight, and saw Gawain’s gaze drop to her chest. To her breasts. Embarrassed heat ran from her all-too-exposed breasts right into her face. “Right. I’d be happy to take a look.” She glanced at Bree. “Was there more we needed to cover?”

Bree didn’t even try to conceal her grin. “Nope. We got to the end of my list of what to teach.”

“Fantastic.” Gawain smiled. Damp from the wet foliage, his hair and beard had darkened to a rich brown, making his eyes even bluer. Each breath brought her his masculine musk, shifter-wild, mixed with the tang of iron and smoke.

He turned his attention to Darcy. “Are your clothes at the lodge?” His shaft grew, thickened…

What would that feel like in her hand?

“Answer the question, Darcy.” Bree nudged her.

Darcy felt the blush sear her cheeks. Again. What was wrong with her? Her words came out in a stutter. “Clothes. R-right. Yes, at the lodge. Meet you there.”

Too embarrassed to continue, she shifted. As her front paws dropped onto the grass, love flowed upward from Mother Earth. With a lash of her tail, she bounded down the trail. By the time she arrived, she would have herself back under control.

Why did he have to be so…so masculine?


The pretty panther female was moving so fast she’d disappeared into the forest before Gawain could speak. Wasn’t she cute?

He took a slow breath. The fragrance of her beginning arousal still hung in the clearing, and the appreciation in her gaze had been better than anything he’d felt before.