Lynx would rut in the abandon only Wild could grant them. She allowed a small smile to curve her lips at the thought. Wild always caused a bittersweet pang for her. This was the time for mates to be sensed and claimed, but Marra was long past the age of mating. She arrived alone and left the same way, denied what others had found. Her shoulder lifted in a rueful shrug. It was her destiny, no matter how lonely. But Wild was not about regrets—it was about connection. Sex. And she would enjoy it as she always did. A fuller smile bloomed on her lips, and she almost purred. Pulling off the dirt path, she parked in the long row of other cars. Everything from new Mercedes to old pick-ups held together with bailing wire lined the road.

Money didn't matter now, only instinct. The veneer of civility they wore in the human world would be cast aside to let the feral cats within them loose. Her hands shook as she fumbled for the door handle.

When she stepped out of the car, the unmuted scents of the night pressed in on her. She breathed deep. The smell of other Lynx, of sex and all that was Wild filled her nostrils. She barely held a moan in check.

Holding herself with the thinnest thread of restraint, she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off of her arms. The rasp of her pants' zipper sounded loud and unnatural to her ears. Wriggling her hips, she pushed her slacks down and stepped out of her heels. No pantyhose or underwear. She wouldn't need it for this. She wouldn't need clothes at all. Tucking her discarded garments into her car, she closed the door. The cool mountain air caressed her taut nipples, the planes of her belly, the damp heat of her pussy.

Then her control snapped.

It was the last day of Wild. She could feel the heat easing its grip on her body. Tears pressed against her lids at the prospect of this time away from time ending. She clenched her jaw, shoving the thought away. No. She would enjoy the now, squeeze every ounce of sensation out of what time remained to her. Her grin sharpened, showing her truest nature. Feral woman.

Shivering again at the cool breeze licking at her flesh, she shifted into her Lynx form. Her body flowed into the new shape, bones and sinew remolding into those of a feline. Spotted fur soon covered her skin, protecting her from the chill wind.

She wound through the tall trees, padding lightly on her paws as the underbrush thinned and gave way to the rocky shore beside a flowing river. The last rays of the fading sun sparkled on the water as it gurgled around and tripped over larger rocks. The breeze fluttered through her thick fur, bringing with it the scent of her pursuer.

Soon. Soon, she would have him as she had had so many others this week. A pang struck her, and her heart clenched in her chest. Guilt twisted inside her, choking off her breath.

Two years had passed since Shane died. Her mate. The first year, she hadn't been able to make herself attend Wild. The loss was too raw, too new. Alone in her house, the cravings of her body had eaten her alive until she'd screamed from the relentless want she couldn't stop. She was in heat, she needed to fuck. Those animal instincts didn't care that her very human heart had shattered, that half of her soul had been ripped away, leaving her empty and barren. Broken.

Lost.

She couldn't face her Wild time alone the second year. She just . . . couldn't. The need had clawed at her too deeply, slicing through her control. She swallowed and twitched her ears, trying to ignore the guilt. Shane was possessive, as all males of their kind were. He would hate knowing that she craved the touch of another man, any other man who might want to stroke his fingers down her naked skin, who might be willing to thrust his long cock into her overheating body. Anything to assuage the need, to ease the carnal torment for even a single moment.

He would never have understood.