Crystal Jordan

Walk on the Wild Side of Romance

Crystal Jordan

Walk on the Wild Side of Romance

Ex-model and fashion designer Andrea Cruz doesn't need anyone—she had to make her own way in the human world after her Panther Pride leader father rejected her and threw her out. She’s spent over a decade away from her own kind, hiding the feline within her. 

But her father died and her older brother took over as leader and has demanded she return home to swear fealty to him.

As much as she dreads returning to the San Francisco Pride den, she has no choice. Even worse, the moment she arrives she senses her fated mate. Miguel Montoya, her brother’s second-in-command. The man brings out the submissive nature she’s tried so hard to suppress, but he tempts her mind with daring games and teases her body with dark, forbidden pleasure she can't resist… 

Note: this story was originally published as part of the On the Prowl anthology.

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Excerpt:

God help her. Andrea pinched her eyes closed, praying that her flight would never end, that she’d never have to go back home. Her heart raced and she tightened her fingers around the strap of her leather purse so hard she snapped it in half. Shit. Her stomach clenched.

She glanced around to make sure no one had noticed and shoved her bag onto the floor, tucking in the broken strap. She smoothed a hand down her khaki skirt and crossed her sandaled feet, trying to act casual. A woman as slender as she was shouldn’t have the upper body strength to break a thick piece of leather—but then again, she wasn’t just a woman. She was a Panther. And if she didn’t get ahold of herself, she’d be a shapeshifter in a boatload of trouble with her Pride members. She swallowed and shut her eyes again, taking deep, calming breaths.

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The smell of so many humans packed into such a small space was giving her a headache. Their energy hummed around her, vibrating against her nerves. Of course, in the mood she was in, just about anything would be enough to wind her tighter. God, she needed a drink. And if she didn’t need all her wits about her when she came face to face with her family, she’d be sucking down the little bottles of booze the flight attendant had offered her.

“Ms. Cruz?” A light male voice sounded to her right.

She jolted and opened her eyes to see a slender man in his mid-twenties crouching in the airplane’s aisle next to her seat. “Yes?”

He beamed. “I thought that was you.”

Arching a brow, she pushed away her anxiety and tried to hide a grin. It wasn’t often that she was recognized anymore. She’d quit modeling almost four years ago to start her own clothing company, Pantheras Designs. “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to say that I love your new men’s line.” He rolled his wide blue eyes dramatically. “My boyfriend and I spend way too much buying your clothes.”

She chuckled quietly, relieved that he wasn’t going to make a sad attempt at hitting on her like men who’d spent their teen years staring at glossy photos of her in a bikini. “I’m flattered. Thank you.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “My boyfriend will never believe I met you. Would you mind taking a picture with me?”

“Not at all.” Anything that distracted her from the dread that coiled tighter and tighter inside her with every passing moment.

“Let me grab my phone.” The young man pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and flicked it open to push a few buttons. Turning on his heels he leaned back toward her and lifted the phone to just above his face and tilted it down. She angled her head so that she was next to him, conscious after so many years in front of a camera of just how to position her body, her neck, her face to show off her features best. He snapped the picture and then flipped the phone around so he could see the image. “This is awesome. You look phenomenal.”

“Thank you.” Her gaze slid over the picture. Yep, she still had it. She grinned.

“Excuse me, but you’re not supposed to be in the first-class cabin. You’ll need to go back to economy.” A flight attendant hurried up to scold the young man.

He flushed a dark red, jerked to his feet, and fumbled with his cell. “Oh, right. I’m sorry.”

Andrea caught his wrist before he scurried back to his seat. He looked down at her, embarrassment reflecting in his blue eyes. She squeezed his arm. “It was very nice meeting you. You made my day.”

“Thanks for the picture.” Huffing a laugh, he stuffed his phone into his pocket. “I bet you have somewhere glamorous to go tonight, so I doubt this could make your day.”

“Trust me, it could.” She smiled and let him go. The kid had no idea. But, then, most humans couldn’t guess at the life she led. Secrets, lies, and hiding her true nature were something she’d done every day for the last fourteen years. No human could ever know about her kind, so since she’d left the Pride at eighteen, it was the rare occasion that she’d been able to let her feral side loose and change forms.

She’d stayed away as long as possible, avoiding her brother’s summons by claiming she had contractual obligations to fulfill before she could return to San Francisco.

Eighteen more months of freedom.

But her brother and his mate, Solana, were having their first child and she was required to take a loyalty oath to the new heir of the North American Panther Pride. There was no more escape for her. She knew once she returned, her brother would never let her leave again. A low moan caught in her throat. That was the last thing she wanted—to be trapped forever, a showpiece for her Pride and nothing more. They’d parade her around to all the other Prides until she found her mate and then the only point to her life would be to breed.

It still blew her mind that her brother had mated to Solana Perez—a former outcast from their Pride. When Andrea had last seen her, Solana was a non-shifter. A Panther who couldn’t assume animal form. Such people were second-class citizens in the Panther Prides because only in Panther form could their kind breed, and the population was so scarce that they had to consciously work on making sure enough children were born each generation. Or they would die out. Extinction was an ugly prospect for everyone.

While Andrea could understand why non-shifters were seen as “less than” she disagreed with the idea that breeding was the most important function a person could perform. Her father had believed it though—his archaic attitudes had caused so many arguments between them that she’d given up ever co-existing peacefully with him and left to make her way in the human world when she came of age. She hadn’t seen her brother since she was sixteen and he was a cocky twenty-year-old on his way to serve as the South American Panther Pride leader’s second in command. Would he be as conservative—as stifling—as their father?

Nausea pitched in her stomach. She wanted to tell herself it was the mild turbulence as the plane circled to land at SFO, but she knew it was a lie.

Time seemed to speed, blurring as it whipped past. The next thing she knew, she was standing by the luggage carousel to collect her bag. There it was. She reached for the handle when a large male hand curved around her and lifted it for her.

“Andrea Cruz?” His breath moved the hair at the back of her neck.

A ripple of awareness went up her spine at the controlled voice behind her. She had to see the man attached to it. Some instinct went off in her head as she spun to face him. Her nipples tightened, thrusting against her lace bra. Gooseflesh broke down her arms, and her skin flushed with heat. Her pussy dampened, clenching with the ache of sudden want.

And then she knew.

Mate.

“Who are you?” Her voice came out a harsher demand than she’d intended, but the foundations of her world had just crumbled beneath her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Unusual for a woman as tall as she was. He was gorgeous, eyes richer than dark chocolate and long ebony hair secured at the nape of his neck. Her fingers itched to rip the tie away and bury themselves in the long strands. Would they be rough silk or satin soft? She wanted to know with a desperation that scared her.

His brows lifted and he almost smiled. Almost. “I’m your brother’s Second, Miguel Montoya.”

Second. The shock of that announcement, the horrifying memories of her father’s Second and what he’d done to her, made her stomach lurch. Oh, Christ. What the hell was she doing here? Every muscle in her body screamed at her to run, to get away from all the changes ripping through her life. She jolted when he took her elbow, and a frisson of heat she didn’t want to feel slithered through her body.

“This way.” His grip was gentle, but she doubted she’d be able to escape unless he wanted her to. She felt herded while he ushered her out to a waiting limousine.

Her senses reeled, panic and passion spinning through her so fast she couldn’t keep up. His scent filled her nostrils, his fingers rasped against her skin, and the power of it threatened to drag her under. He gave her bag to the driver and handed her down into the open door. The leather creaked under her as she slid across the wide seat.

A gasp jerked from her when he sat beside her, plastering her against his side from shoulder to thigh. He shut the door behind him, shutting the rest of the world away to cocoon them inside the limo. Her gaze snapped to his, awareness flashing through his brown eyes. He knew. He sensed it as well. Mates. Her body heated to a boiling point, need sharper than she’d ever experienced slicing through her. Her instincts drew her to him like a moth to flame…and she wanted to be burned.

“Andrea.”

A shudder ran through her at the sound of her name on his lips. His hand curved over her leg just above her bare knee. Her fingers clamped around his wrist, stilling his movement. “We can’t.”

“I want you.” His gaze locked with hers, refusing to let her deny what was happening. They flickered to a deep gold, the color of a Panther, of change.

It was too much to resist.

COLLAPSE

When Antonio Cruz, the powerful new leader of San Francisco's Panther shifters, meets outcast Solana Perez in a dark alley, their passion lights up the night. 

He senses that she is his mate, but her position as a non-shifter—a Panther who cannot change forms—means he can never claim her. Rejected by the Pride long ago, Solana knows she's untouchable for a Pride leader, knows that she has no place among her kind. She tries to resist her craving for him, but their chemistry is undeniable, challenging Pride laws and Antonio's leadership.

As rival Panthers sense weakness, Antonio faces an impossible choice: reject Solana to maintain order, or risk everything for a love that defies shifter tradition. In a world where passion clashes with duty and shifter politics turn deadly, Antonio and Solana's forbidden romance could be their salvation—or their downfall.

Note: this story was originally published as part of the On the Prowl anthology.

Published:
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Excerpt:

Antonio watched the men circle his mate from atop a building far above the alley they’d cornered her in. A few nimble leaps brought him to the end of the shadowed corridor. He jerked his clothes off and dropped them as he ran, shifted into his Panther form to let his black fur blend into the night, and stalked the men as they had stalked her.

The predators became the prey.

He ran his tongue down a long fang, anticipation and rage boiling hot in his veins. They would pay for scaring her. God and all the saints couldn’t save them if they harmed her.

It had taken two days to track her scent after he’d sensed her in the city. And now he’d found her. Nothing compared to the ice that froze the blood in his veins when he heard her first scream, the terror of seeing men hunt her. Yes, these men would beg for his mercy before the night was through. A growl rumbled from his chest as he moved down the alley, his claws clicking on the pavement.

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When one of the men grabbed for her, a roar ripped from his throat. Everyone froze, turning in slow motion to stare at the newcomer. A Panther. He bared his teeth and watched the man closest to him turn ghostly pale. He could smell their fear, taste the tang of it on his tongue, and he took a small amount of satisfaction in that.

This close, even his rage couldn’t cloud the fact that the men weren’t human. They were Panthers, like him. Worse, they were from his Pride. The Ruiz brothers—Javier, Felipe, and Roberto. His own people, under his rule. Why would they hunt a Panther female? If she belonged to another Pride and was visiting his territory, then her Pride leader would hold him responsible for any harm his people caused her. Not to mention she was his mate and he would shred them alive for hunting her in the first place.

She screamed, and the frozen tableau broke into chaos. Antonio lunged forward, slicing his claws into Roberto’s calf. He went down with a spray of blood and saliva, squealing and clutching his leg.

Antonio leaped over the fallen man to sprint forward, intent on reaching his mate. Felipe shifted to Panther form, hissing a warning, but it meant nothing to Antonio. They were past the point of warnings. A single leap forward and the two of them clashed midair, claws and fangs tearing into each other. Antonio slashed across the young Panther’s face and he rolled away with a whimper, his black fur matted with dark crimson blood.

Antonio’s tail whipped around as he sprang for Javier. The man tried to climb the wall, but he had no more chance of escape than Antonio’s mate had. Antonio dragged him down to the ground, his fangs digging into the man’s jeans. Both front paws planted on the younger man’s chest, making him wheeze, and Antonio shoved his face into Marco’s. A growl vibrated his vocal cords, and what little blood was left in the man’s face fled. His bloodshot eyes went wide with horror.

His mate’s soft cry reached Antonio’s ears, jerking him back from the edge of feral. He shuddered, fighting the instincts of his Panther nature. He turned toward her, wanting to comfort her and soothe her fear.

But she wasn’t looking at him—she snarled at Felipe, bracing her back against the wall as she hissed deep in her throat. A purr rumbled his chest at her courage.

Javier took the opportunity to speak. “Please, sir. Listen to me. She doesn’t deserve protection. She’s a—”

A roar ripped free from Antonio’s throat as he transformed into his human form. He hoisted the shorter man up by his T-shirt until they were nose to nose. “Silence! The three of you will be in my study when I return to the mansion. Is that clear?”

“But how long until—”

“Obey me. You won’t enjoy the consequences if you don’t. But I will.” He dropped Javier to his feet. The younger man scrambled away and ran. His brothers had already disappeared.

He turned back to his mate. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. You?” She shoved her dark hair out of her face, her fingers sifting through the streaks of blond that shot through the long strands. He soaked in the details of her, taking in every curve of her face and body. Her chocolate-brown eyes searched him and they went wide when she saw the straining erection jutting between his thighs. Shifting back had left him naked. A wry smile pulled at his lips. He was going to have to figure out where he’d dropped his clothes and hope some vagrant didn’t steal them before he got there. For the moment, he focused on his mate.

She sucked in a quick breath when he took a step toward her. Swaying on her feet, she stared at him for long moments. The silence stretched to a fine breaking point. She shook her head, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. “It can’t be.”

She’d finally sensed it—that they were mates.

“Oh, but it can be. It is.” Stalking forward, he backed her up against the brick wall. His nostrils flared to catch her sweet scent, the one he would become addicted to. He had no doubt she had the same adrenaline humming through her as he did, and it morphed into something hotter, more carnal. Anger and fear still pumped through his system. His shaking fingers fisted at his sides. His eyes narrowed at her and a dart of excitement flashed through her gaze. The delicate smell of her wetness filled his nostrils. It was heady. She swallowed, her lids dropping to half-mast.

She released a breathy laugh, and naked want shone in her gaze. “I don’t believe it. We can’t be mates.”

“Let me prove it to you,” he growled.

COLLAPSE

Reclaimed by the Immortal Viking Wolf

As Viking warriors, raven-shifter Bryn and wolf-shifter Erik broke each other's hearts in the name of vengeance a thousand years ago. And it cost their mortal lives.

Reborn as an immortal valkyrie and berserker who serve Freya and Odin, they’ve managed to steer clear of each other for almost a millennium.

But their god and goddess have gone missing, and signs of the end times have begun to appear. Bryn and Erik will have to team up if they want to stop the apocalypse and defeat the monsters hell-bent on ruling Earth.

What they don’t expect is to fall as hard for each other as they had so long ago. But no one cares about warriors’ hearts, not when the world is depending on them to win.

Even if they pay with their lives. Again.

Reclaimed by the Immortal Viking Bear

Viking god of thunder and bear-shifter Thor has been married to the earth goddess Sif for millennia, but tragedy and betrayal tore them apart long ago. Now husband and wife in name only, they avoid each other when they can and barely tolerate each other when they can’t.

Too bad they’re still in love—though they’d never admit it.

But ancient prophecies are beginning to turn against them, leaving them no more room for misgivings. The apocalypse is coming, and unless they work together, they don’t stand a chance against the enemies they face.

Can they learn to trust again, or will the end of the world consume them both?

Please note: the ebook version of the book is available exclusively on Kindle Unlimited. All other links are for the paperback print version. The individual stories in this anthology are available widely as ebooks.

Excerpt:

Ravencrest Farm, Virginia

“I need a shieldmaiden.”

Bryn was bent over, digging out a rock that had gotten wedged under one of her horse’s shoes. At the sound of that voice, deep and rich and so familiar, every muscle in her body froze. Pain and longing and a million other emotions she refused to feel twisted through her soul. Moving as slowly as a thousand-year-old woman—which was actually how old she was—she carefully set the mare’s hoof on the ground and straightened, but didn’t turn around to face him. “Well, you’ll need to keep looking, then.”

“Brynhild.”

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“Just Bryn, thanks. Go away, Siegfried.” The gods knew he’d never show up here unless it was to fuck up her life. No, thanks. She might once have been a shieldmaiden, a valkyrie. She might still be able to shift into a raven and soar into the clouds. She might be older than dirt. But all of that meant she had an even lower bullshit tolerance than she did back in the day when Siegfried was the love of her life. Also her betrayer, her tormenter, the man who cost her mortal life. The man who she’d betrayed in turn, a blood-soaked vengeance she’d never been able to cleanse from her stained, battered soul.

That was a long time ago, but some wounds never really healed, did they? She tried not to think about it. Ever.

She stroked a hand down the horse’s silky neck. Unhooking the crossties, she snapped a lead line on to the mare’s halter, and walked her to her stall.

No sound gave away the fact that he’d followed her, but she was keenly aware of his presence, his nearness, his ability to throw her off-balance. Tingles skipped over her skin and she tried to ignore the reaction.

His voice came from directly behind her when she latched the stall. “I’ve used Siegfried as my surname since I came to America. A hundred years ago. Maybe more.”

“Okay.” She infused as much disinterest into the word as she could manage.

“Erik is what you can call me now.”

“I prefer to call you gone.” She set off down the wide, concrete barn aisle. The sun would set in about half an hour, so she had to wrap up for the day. One more horse needed to be brought in. She whistled as she approached the paddock gate and Rogue’s Gallery came galloping up to the fence. The stallion slid to a stop just before he reached her, rearing up and whinnying.

She snorted. “Settle down, show-off.”

The stallion snorted back, shaking his head. The second she opened the gate, he shoved his nose against her shoulder, demanding petting. She scratched behind his ears and he nickered in appreciation. “Ah, now. That’s my boy.”

“He looks like my Grani,” Erik noted. “Same color, anyway. Gray as stone.”

Yes, and she hated to admit that she might have a soft spot for Rogue for just that reason. “Grani was a warhorse who died a millennium ago. Rogue here is a thoroughbred. He had a great racing career and now I keep him for stud.”

She clipped on the lead rope and then had no choice but to face her unwelcome guest.

Whoa. Her lips parted, surprise spurting through her. What a change. He was still enormously tall and built like a honed Viking warrior, a berserker who could conquer an army with one hand tied behind his back. It was his hair that caught her attention. Or rather, the lack thereof. He’d shaved his head, and the look was so different, she blinked. She’d seen him once or twice over the last thousand plus years, never of her own will, but when Odin and Freya had summoned them at the same time, there was nothing Bryn could do about it.

This was the most dramatic change he’d ever made to his appearance. He’d always worn his hair long, no matter what the current fashion of the time dictated. His silver eyes, framed by absurdly long lashes, somehow seemed even more dramatic, more intense. Before this moment, she wouldn’t have believed it possible.

That gaze pinned her in place like a bug under a microscope, and it took effort not to squirm. She wasn’t used to that. Most men she met were like spoiled toddlers, and it had been a couple of decades since one had interested her in doing anything other than yawn.

Decades. Shit, she might be regrowing her hymen at this rate.

And thinking about sex while staring at Erik was a mistake. She shook herself and glanced away. Somehow with the shaved head, it was easier to think of him as Erik instead of Siegfried. Though he was both now, wasn’t he? Erik Siegfried. The new name suited him.

“Why are you still here?” She brushed passed him—careful not to make actual contact—and led Rogue to the smaller stallion barn.

“Are you serious?” he asked, incredulousness dripping from the question. “You’ve seen the signs, Brynhil—Bryn. You have to know what they mean.”

Hurricanes, earthquakes, winters that lasted far too long, summers that burned far too hot. Mortals thought it was climate change, but a valkyrie could sense the difference. Signs of the end times. The Vikings called it Ragnarök—the Twilight of the Gods—but it had been given many names by many cultures. Armageddon, eschaton, apocalypse, Satya Yuga, the appearance of Maitreya—it was all the same, as far as she was concerned—a prophesized final chapter before a supposed golden era began.

She shrugged as she finished putting Rogue away, then she turned to Erik. “Ah, but you’re the dragon slayer who’s supposed to kill the baddies who want to take over the world. I suggest you quit bothering me and get to it.”

His smile was sharp and unamused. “Trust me, I’d like nothing more than kill the baddies, preferably before they do the kind of damage that will land us in Ragnarök. Unfortunately, I need a shieldmaiden’s help.”

“I’m not the only one left.” Though, it had been a century or more since she’d been in contact with any other valkyrie. Freya hadn’t summoned her in a long time, and Bryn was just fine with that. She had her farm, her horses, and a quiet existence she enjoyed. “Go pester someone else.”

“Damn it, Bryn.” He scrubbed a hand over his head, looking as if he’d like nothing more than to strangle her. Interesting. He’d always been so obnoxiously calm and patient back in the day.

It annoyed the shit out of her that she liked this less stoic side of him. She widened her eyes innocently. “What?”

“I need your help.” He spread his hands in a gesture of helpless frustration, his heavy brows snapping together.

“No.” There. Simple, easy. An idiot should get that message through his thick skull.

The growl he emitted was more wolf than man, reminding her that berserkers could shift forms as easily as valkyrie. Again, that less civil side of him was…too alluring, too tempting, tugging at something deep within her. Something she’d rather crush under her boot.

COLLAPSE

Marra's body burned with desire. It was Wild time, the first week of spring, when Lynx from all over North America gathered in the Sierra Nevada foothills to mate. The time when every Lynx female went into heat.

But Wild is bittersweet for Marra. She's past the age when most Lynx find their mate. She only comes to Wild for sex and always leaves as she came: alone.

Yet this year is different. A new male Lynx has come to Wild, a foreigner who will claim her in ways she only imagined...

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Excerpt:

Wild.

God, she needed it. Marra's body burned with the cravings she could barely contain. Restlessness made her fingers tighten on the steering wheel, made her squirm in her seat. She flipped the headlights off as she exited the highway. She could see just as well in the dark, and she didn't want to blind any of her kind who might be nearby.

And many of them would be close.

This was the Wild time, the first week of Spring. Lynx from all over North America gathered in the Sierra Nevada foothills every year for this one event. Hers was a solitary kind, except at Wild. Every female of their breed went into heat at this time.

A shiver wracked her body. Heat held her in its unyielding grip, and she reveled in it. The urge to fuck was more than she could bear, made her skin feel too tight for her body. Her nipples peaked in anticipation of the days to come.

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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.

COLLAPSE
On the Prowl cover - a woman with long dark hair walking in the foreground with a large black panther beside her and a moonlit cityscape with lights streaking passed in the background
Part of the On the Prowl series:
Editions:eBook - Second EditionPaperback - Second Edition

Meet the Cruz family. They look human—except for the golden sheen their eyes take when they're aroused beyond control...and the way their claws come out when it's time to play rough. They're Panthers, ancient shapeshifters, and their survival depends on mating to bring out their wild sides...

CLAIM ME
When Antonio, the strong, sexy new leader of the Panther pride, meets luscious Solana in a dark alleyway, their passion lights up the night. But she's an outcast, an impossible mate—and her touch makes him lose all control...

TAKE ME
Ex-model and businesswoman Andrea doesn't need anyone—until she meets Miguel, who tempts her mind with daring games and teases her body with dark, forbidden pleasure she can't resist...

NEED ME
Wild twins Ricardo and Diego do everything together—and their women appreciate the teamwork. Until shy Isabel takes refuge in their pride, and both want to claim her. Of course, sometimes two mates are better than one...

Please note: the ebook version of the book is available exclusively on Kindle Unlimited. All other links are for the paperback print version. The individual stories in this anthology are available widely as ebooks.

Available on:
Tags:
Excerpt:

Antonio watched the men circle his mate from atop a building far above the alley they'd cornered her in. A few nimble leaps brought him to end of the shadowed corridor. He jerked his clothes off and dropped them as he ran, shifted into his Panther form to let his black fur blend into the night, and stalked the men as they had stalked her.

The predators became the prey.

He ran a tongue down a long fang, anticipation and rage boiling hot in his veins. They would pay for scaring her. God and all the saints couldn't save them if they harmed her.

It had taken two days to track her scent after he'd sensed her in the city. And now he'd found her. Nothing compared to the ice that froze the blood in his veins when he heard her first scream, the terror of seeing men hunt her. Yes, these men would beg for his mercy before the night was through. A growl rumbled from his chest as he moved down the alley, his claws digging into the pavement.

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When one of the men grabbed for her, a roar ripped from his throat. Everyone froze, turning in slow motion to stare at the newcomer. A Panther. He bared his teeth and watched the man closest to him turn ghostly pale. He could smell their fear, taste the tang of it on his tongue, and he took a small amount in satisfaction in that.

This close, even his rage couldn't cloud the fact that the men weren't human. They were Panthers, like him. Worse, they were from his Pride. The Ruiz brothers—Marcos, Juan, and Roberto. His own people, under his rule. Why would they hunt a Panther female? If she belonged to another Pride and was visiting his territory, then her Pride leader would hold him responsible for any harm his people caused her. Not to mention she was his mate and he would shred them alive for hunting her in the first place.

She screamed, and the frozen tableau broke into chaos. Antonio lunged forward, slicing his claws into Roberto's calf. He went down with a spray of blood and saliva, squealing and clutching his leg.

Antonio leaped over the fallen man to sprint forward, intent on reaching his mate. Juan shifted to Panther form, hissing a warning, but it meant nothing to Antonio. They were past the point of warnings. A single leap forward and the two of them clashed mid-air, claws and fangs tearing into each other. Antonio slashed across the young Panther's face and he rolled away with a whimper, his black fur matted with dark crimson.

Antonio's tail whipped around as he sprang for Marcos. The man tried to climb the wall, but he had no more escape than Antonio's mate had. Antonio dragged him down to the ground, his fangs digging into the man's jeans. Both front paws planted on the younger man's chest, making him wheeze for breath, and Antonio shoved his face into Marco's. A growl vibrated his vocal cords, and what little blood was left in the man's face fled. His blood-shot eyes went wide with horror.

His mate's soft cry reached Antonio's ears, jerking him back from the edge of feral. He shuddered, fighting the instincts of his Panther nature. He turned towards her, wanting to comfort her and soothe her fear.

But she wasn't looking at him—she snarled at Juan, bracing her back against the wall as she hissed deep in her throat. A purr rumbled his chest at her courage.

Marcos took the opportunity to speak. "Please, sir. Listen to me. She doesn't deserve protection. She's a—"

A roar ripped free from Antonio's throat as he transformed into his human form. He lifted them both to their feet, hoisting the shorter man up by his t-shirt until they were nose to nose. "Silence. The three of you will be in my study when I return to the mansion. Is that clear?"

"But how long until—"

"Obey me. You won't enjoy the consequences if you don't. But I will." He dropped Marcos to his feet. The younger man scrambled away and ran. His brothers had already disappeared.

He turned back to his mate. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. You?" She shoved her dark hair out of her face, her fingers sifting through the streaks of blonde that shot through the long strands. He soaked in the details of her, taking in every curve of her face and body. Her chocolate brown eyes searched him and they went wide when she saw the straining erection jutting between his thighs. Shifting back had left him naked. A wry smile pulled at his lips. He was going to have to figure out where he'd dropped his clothes and hope some vagrant didn't steal them before he got there. For the moment, he focused on his mate.

She sucked in a quick breath when he took a step towards her. Swaying on her feet, she stared at him for long moments. The silence stretched to a fine breaking point. She shook her head, pressing the heel of her hand to her forehead. "It can't be."

Ah. She'd finally sensed it. That they were mates.

"Oh, but it can be. It is." Stalking forward, he backed her up against the brick wall. His nostrils flared to catch her sweet scent, the one he would become addicted to. He had no doubt she had the same adrenaline humming through her as he did, and it morphed into something hotter, more carnal. Anger and fear still pumped through his system. His shaking fingers fisted at his sides. His eyes narrowed at her and a dart of excitement flashed through her gaze. The delicate smell of her wetness filled his nostrils. It was heady. She swallowed, her lids dropping to half-mast.

She released a breathy laugh, and naked want shone in her gaze. "I don't believe it. We can't be mates."

"Let me prove it to you," he growled. His hands wrapped around her waist, lifting her against the rough brick. Her legs curved around his flanks, she arched against him, and made him snarl with his need. She drove him wild. Jerking her dress up, he found her naked underneath. Perfect. He pushed forward, his hips fitting into the cradle of hers. The blunt tip of his cock rubbed over her slick folds. Her gaze flashed with the same desire that burned in his veins. "Your name. Tell me your name."

Her little pink tongue darted out to slide along her lips. "Solana."

She whimpered, tightening her legs about him. He groaned, but held back from plunging his dick into the snug fit of her damp pussy. Barely. "Yes or no, Solana?"

Her hands reached for him, fingers burying into his hair. Choking on a breath, she arched her hips toward the press of his cock. "Yes."

COLLAPSE

On The Prowl cover - above the title is a shirtless man with a tattoo on his bicep laying on a leopard print blanket, below the title is a panther with a cloudy full moon behind it

First edition cover