Black Magic (Alpha Pack #1.5)(13)

Rocking his hips, he began to move inside her. Deep, to the hilt, and out again. Slow and easy, stoking the fire once again, searing her to the depths of her soul. She buried her fingers in his hair again, watched his face as he made love to her. The pupils of his eyes had gone elliptical and smoldered with passion. The muscles of his shoulders bunched and his fangs protruded as he panted with each thrust, the disc of his pendant hanging from his neck, resting between her br**sts.

"Harder," she urged. "Faster."

Increasing the tempo, he did as she asked, moaning. Driving them higher. She knew he was close when he gathered her to his chest, hips pumping furiously. She clung to his back, her own release building until-

She shattered with a cry, pulsing around his length. Her release triggered his and he came with a hoarse shout, sinking himself as deeply as possible. He stayed there, convulsing, holding her close, until at last they were spent. Then a bit longer as they came down from the high, kissing the curve of her neck.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"No, thank you." She hugged him. "You were wonderful."

Carefully he pulled out. Rolling to his back he gathered her to him and she laid her head on his shoulder, content. Suddenly something occurred to her.

"We never cleaned your cut," she said, feeling guilty.

"I did, after you went to sleep. It's nothing, just a scratch."

She thought it was more, especially in light of her nightmare, but didn't want to spoil the moment by bringing it up again. "If you insist."

"I do."

"Fine. You're just as bad as those macho wolves I've worked with for the past few years."

"Are you saying I'm stubborn?"

"Yep."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Speaking of wolves . . ." She hesitated. "Would you do something for me?"

"I'll try."

"Would you show me your panther?"

"That's right, you've never seen him," he said, as though just realizing it. "You really want to?"

The amazement in his tone puzzled her. Why wouldn't she be interested?

"Of course I do. He's a part of you."

The naked joy in his expression as he smiled was almost her undoing. Had nobody ever said such a thing to this wonderful man?

"Okay," he said, sitting up. "Here goes."

"Wait-you aren't going to eat me, are you?"

"Honey, only my human half would do that," he teased, heated gaze raking her body. "And we already know how much you love it."

Before she could form a retort, his form wavered. Began to reshape. Pale skin became sleek, black fur. His face reformed into a squared muzzle full of sharp teeth, his ears pointed. Black fingernails became claws. A long tail twitched where none had been before, and emerald eyes studied her intently.

Kalen was now a big, gorgeous black panther.

"You're beautiful," she said in awe, stroking his head.

He butted under her hand, his demand clear, and she laughed. She scratched his ears and he started purring loudly, flopping onto his side. Eventually he rolled to his back, presenting her with his belly, which got a good scratching as well.

"Don't think I'm going to spoil you like this all the time," she said with mock sternness. "You'll get lazy."

Without warning, he morphed into a human man once more and lay there studying her, lips forming a smile. But the sadness had returned to his eyes, making his expression appear wistful.

"No one has ever done that before," he said quietly.

"Done what?"

"Asked me to change into my panther. Embraced him. Accepted me." He looked away. "Nobody has ever cared. My parents thought I was a freak when I was a kid and they learned I could do magic, but when they found out I'd learned to use my power to shift into a panther? They threw me out on my ass. I was fourteen."

Her heart clenched, aching for the lonely, hurt boy who'd grown into a lonely man. "I care. And you're not a freak."

"You're a special woman, Mackenzie. Most people aren't accepting, don't have a good soul like you."

The nightmare intruded again, the horrible stranger's accusation, and she found herself asking, "What about your soul? I believe it's good and kind."

He fell silent for so long, she thought he didn't want to talk anymore. Then his voice drifted in the darkness.

"I'll tell you a secret." He paused. "I don't like to be touched. Or I didn't before tonight."

She stilled. "Before me?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you?" Please, dear Lord, don't let it be what I'm thinking.

"I don't have a good soul, honey. I sold myself to survive, to anyone who wanted me," he whispered. "I had no job skills, wasn't legal to work even if I had any, and I had to eat. So I did the only thing I knew how, and I did it well."

So it was what she'd been thinking. No, worse. The self-loathing in his voice scared her more than anything. Because a powerful enemy, like the man in her nightmare, could take that hatred and twist Kalen into his own image. Into a man who would do evil things.

She gripped his hand. "You were just a kid. You were tossed from your home as a minor, a crime in any state. You got caught in the same trap as any number of homeless teens, and didn't know where to turn. Who to trust. Your parents should've been thrown in jail. Give yourself a break."