If Donal wanted, he could be entirely silent. And deadly, too. There were reasons wolves needed a pack to take on a panther.
When young, Tynan had thought it unfair his littermate was more dangerous. But now, Tynan wouldn’t trade. He loved having packmates for hunting, playing, and simply being together. Felines and bears missed out.
Tynan checked over his shoulder.
Meggie ran behind him, a beautiful, dainty wolf. Rather than common gray fur, her outer coat was a warm brown. Near the skin, the fur was almost black before lightening to milk chocolate at the tips.
Tynan caught a glimpse of Donal, a lean, tawny-gray panther, disappearing into the underbrush for a quick mouse-appetizer. Or to catch one for Meggie in the shifter method of pleasing a female.
With a soft woof, Tynan increased his speed, to get farther from town before they stopped. At one time, an inadvertent sighting would mean simply calling the Cosantir to erase the human’s memory. Now, humans whipped out cell phones faster than a horny man would his dick. These new times called for discretion.
Once away from town, Tynan left the creekside trail and headed up a steeper slope. He kept an ear turned back, evaluating the sounds. Meggie had grown stronger. Her gait was even. Donal was behind her.
Tynan opened his jaws in a smile. It was rare he and Donal found time to enjoy a trail together.
The forest gave way to a pretty meadow with wildflowers blooming pink and white. Snatching up a hefty stick from a fallen tree, Tynan crouched with his butt in the air. Tail waving. I got a stick, want to play?
Stopping, Meggie stared at him as if she had no idea what to do. Then her instincts took over, and with a high yip, she lunged at the stick.
The game was on.
Tynan tore across the meadow, staying barely out of her reach, taunting her with high-paw prancing to show her just who owned the toy.
She was quicker than he’d expected, balancing the weakness of her leg with unexpected bursts of speed. Twice he evaded her, and the third time, she lunged…just as Donal leaped out of the brush. The cat batted the stick out of Tynan’s jaws and skittered away.
Pouncing, Meggie darted off with his stick in her jaws.
Tynan gave chase, and damned if his sneaky littermate wasn’t putting his paw on the female side of the scales. It was difficult to catch Meggie when two hundred pounds of feline kept jumping in the way.
When Tynan managed a successful feint and grabbed his stick back, he noticed her limp.
Time for a break.
He set the stick by a tiny trickling stream, trawsfurred, and dipped up water to scrub his drool-covered face.
Laughing, Meggie did the same, and he was pleased to see she’d grown more comfortable with being naked around males. Mostly.
She frowned. “Why couldn’t the magic that lets us trawsfur let our clothing shift with us?”
Donal shifted to human. He settled on the meadow grass, propping himself up on his elbows. “Probably because our wild hunt ancestors were lusty fae and disinclined to have any barriers to getting it on.”
At her wide-eyed look, Donal grinned, then tipped his head back to savor the last few rays of sunlight.
Unable to resist, Tynan shifted to wolf and pounced on Donal’s stomach, yipping in gratification at the whoofed exhalation.
The sound changed…to a panther’s snarl.
Uh-oh.
Tynan tore across the meadow.
The panther was right on his tail, then knocked him sprawling. Rolling to his paws, Tynan charged the feline, and almost…almost shouldered him over. Up on hind legs, they grappled, fake biting, growling and hissing. Donal’s barely exposed claws were defeated by Tynan’s thick, not-fully-shed undercoat…although a few painful pinpricks got through.
Meggie had jumped to her feet, obviously unsure if they were serious.
Ah, she’d never gotten to play as a teenaged shifter, had she? Tynan broke away and did a speeding zoomie circle around his littermate, voicing taunting, puppylike yips.
Donal chirruped a laugh, sprang, and the fight was joined again.
He had time to see Meggie’s alarm change to a grin.
Shifting, the little wolf danced forward and nipped Donal’s hind end.
Hissing, Donal spun—and Tynan bit his ass. Yeah, this was what he’d been missing—a partner to help fight the feline.
Back and forth, he and Meggie went, keeping the panther turning.
The game ended when Tynan achieved the win—Donal’s tail.
“His face!” Margery was laughing so hard, her sides hurt. By the Mother, she could barely breathe, and if she giggled harder, she’d wet herself. She crossed her legs, almost fell, and giggled harder.
Whoever said cats didn’t show emotions? When Tynan nipped Donal’s tail, the panther’s eyes had gone wide, then his ears went back, and his eyes slitted.
But before the cat could do anything, Tynan shifted to human and dropped down beside Margery, laughing his ass off.
Trawsfurring, Donal scowled, hands on hips. “Brawd, you’re going to pay for that one.”
Oh, no. Was Donal really angry? Remembering Ailill Ridge when minor altercations turned into bloody fang-fests, Margery jumped to her feet.
But Tynan was still snickering, obviously unworried.
Donal was grinning as he sat down. He patted the grass between them. “Relax, sweetling. It’s a game.”
Relieved, she did just that, the grass cold on her bare buttocks and legs.
“You’ve never played shifter games, have you?” Tynan guessed. The breeze brought her his scent, so very masculine and tempting. When she didn’t answer, he cupped her cheek with his thumb under her chin. His blue eyes held hers. Patient. Determined.
“No.” Her voice came out husky because his touch and scent brought back all the desire of the night. How his lips felt, his hands, the way he’d filled her.
“Mmm.” Donal’s resonant voice held a cat’s purr as he picked up her hand, kissing her palm, then her wrist, sending goosebumps up her arm.
And she knew he’d caught the fragrance of her desire.
A smile flickered over Tynan’s lips before his thumb lifted her chin so he could take her mouth. His mouth was firm, his kiss so thorough that warmth rushed through her.
A hand between her breasts pushed her backward, and an arm behind her shoulders eased her down onto the grass. “We wanted to do this last night, but I got called away,” Donal murmured. “Unfortunately, we’re too close to town here to do more than hands-on play.”
“Hands-on is good, though,” Tynan agreed. His grin flashed. “So is tongue.”
Donal’s mouth covered her breast—and Tynan moved down. His lips teased her other breast.
So many sensations. A mouth on each breast. When both males began sucking, her back arched at the exquisite pleasure.
Donal’s hand slid down between her legs, and she gasped as his fingers slid over her clit, teasing her right into need.
Tynan lifted his head to study her expression for a second.
“More.” She slid a hand behind his neck and pulled him back down. The low rumble of his laugh and Donal’s deep chuckle were as heady as they had been the night before.
Donal’s tongue circled one nipple, then she felt Tynan’s teeth on the other with a gentle tugging, then sucking.
The sound of approaching people broke into the quiet. Both males lifted their heads.