Unbound: Shifters Forever Worlds(3)

Sara laughed, then caught the expression on Glory’s face, realized that she was serious, and clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I thought you were kidding,” she mumbled behind her fingers.

“Sara’s just saying you will want some new clothing for your mate. That you’ll want to look as good as you can.”

Glory studied herself in the mirror. The braid secured her hair behind her back, though a few unruly curls had made their way out already. Her eyes were too wide, too large, and very green. Her breasts… well, those were too small for the hips she had, she scowled at her shape. More pear than hourglass, with those hips.

I doubt clothes would do anything about that.

She pulled her top down, hoping to hide her shape, but a man came to mind. A light–eyed man with an easy smile that used to make her senses buzz as if she were intoxicated. The same man who’d told her she had a perfect body, a woman’s body, full of curves.

Now she realized, he’d never meant it. If he had, he would’ve never left without a backward glance.

She wished she’d been able to do not looking back thing.

She hadn’t.

She couldn’t.

Her nightly dreams were filled with visions of a man who was so stunningly handsome, he took her breath away.

Every damned night. Every dream. Visions of one man played through her mind. Of course, in her dreams he was eighteen, the age he was the last time she saw him. Now she knew he was much older. More than a decade had passed.

She also knew he was far more handsome than he’d been back then. His younger, less mature face had fulfilled the promise of chiseled, glorious manhood. He was the type dreams were made of.

Of course he was. Dane Snow, the man she’d always known as Dane Forester, had grown up to become Hollywood’s latest heartthrob.

He played in all the latest action movies, the Hollywood magazines said. Doing his own stunts and his own co-stars.

She tried not to let the sting of that get to her. Tried and failed.

Of course, he did. He was a snow leopard shifter. Movie stunts were no big deal to a man with his physical prowess.

What about sex? Was that not a big deal to him either? Plowing his way through starlets and models?

Fuck him.

And f*ck this upcoming bonding bullshit.

No, Glory Aleman, daughter of the ivy shifters was not the least bit excited.





3





Dane ushered Ashley and her friend out of his trailer after giving them a few moments to get dressed.

They left under duress, protesting, asking him why they couldn’t have a little bit of fun with him.

“I have things to do today.”

Things.

Like getting to the mountains and shifting into his snow leopard and running it all off. All his emotions. All the memories of Glory.

He’d spent a lifetime immersing into roles to be anyone but the heartbroken solitary leopard shifter he was, and yet, he’d come full circle, here he was again, no different than the young man who’d walked away from Glory.

Walked?

A sneer crossed his face.

I didn’t walk.

He wouldn’t have walked away from Glory.

He was pushed away.

Not that it mattered at this stage. Glory was dead. If he hadn’t allowed himself to be run off, maybe she’d be alive now.

Maybe.





* * *



A few short hours later, Dane pulled into his favorite rest stop off the interstate. Good thing they weren’t shooting too damned far away. He was on his four-wheeler, a nondescript vehicle that would get no attention and allow him the anonymity he needed for the next step.

Baseball cap and dark sunglasses on, he slipped away and into the trees, making like he was just another tourist.

He stopped when out of range of prying eyes and cameras and stuffed his keys into an abandoned hole in a tree because though his clothes shifted with him, none of the articles he carried did.

Time to shift.

He didn’t shift often enough and was out of practice. For him it was a bone crunching sinew tearing event that took longer than it should.

I really should shift more often.

He leapt through the heavily wooded area, relishing the freedom and solitude. He ran and ran, loping through the forest, ignoring the rare bear he came across. Tiny mammals scurried out of his way, as he sought the replenishing solace his soul would get.

Memories of the past chose this time to infiltrate his subconscious, probably because his leopard granted them access that Dane would not.





* * *



Years ago…



Dane was fourteen years old, in his tiger form, exploring Uncle Frank’s land at Woodland Creek. He heard voices, and curious, he stalked the sounds, using his snow leopard skills to keep him hidden while he crept through the underbrush.

He encountered a brick wall, and knew the sounds came from the other side. The brick was part of a building. He traversed every side, scouring for a door or gate into the building, ever more curious about the voice he heard. The building wasn’t large, more like a small cabin, really.

Her voice was low, so low he couldn’t make out the words, but not too low for his leopard to pick up.

Puzzled that he couldn’t find an entrance to the little building, he gazed at the top of the brick wall. He could do the jump. He could leap quietly and see what was on the other side. There didn’t seem to be a roof on the building, so he should have an unobstructed view.