Mitya increased his speed and changed the angle, jerking her legs up so he could hit that place inside her that sent her careening over the edge. She was engulfed fast, her entire body, taking Mitya with her, so that it seemed the world retreated, throwing the two of them together into a fiery realm of sheer pleasure. She heard herself keening his name. Sobbing it. Chanting it. When she could breathe, open her eyes, the aftershocks still shaking her, he was dropping her legs from around him and lifting her off the hood.
“Call to her, Ania. She’s so ready. Call to her.” His voice was hoarse, almost a sawing.
Looking into his eyes, she could see the leopard. Unlike Jewel, unlike Ania, he was calm. Those usually malevolent eyes were steady, amber rather than yellow, wholly focused on her. Watching. Waiting.
Ania took a breath. Now, Jewel. You can run free. Tease him. Entice him. Play.
Jewel had obviously made up her mind because the next thing Ania knew, she was on the ground, on all fours, her skin feeling as if it was shredding, too small to accommodate the bones, so much denser than her own. Her jaw hurt, stretched, elongated, teeth filling her mouth so fast she was terrified, her heart beating out of control.
Mitya’s hand stroked over her head, calming her. “Breathe, kotyonok, you’re doing great. She’s almost out. Relax and let her take over. You’ll still be right there. You’ll feel the freedom as well. I’ll be with you the entire time.”
His voice was steady. Mitya was the man who could always be counted on. His voice held that rough velvet tone that meant he was in command and needed to be obeyed. She forced her shivering body to relax and allow the shifting to happen. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Her body felt like it was coming apart. It hurt. Every joint. Every bone. Her teeth. That hurt the worst. Or maybe it was her skull. The itch was horrendous.
The actual change felt slow and unsteady, as if Jewel pushed, retreated and then pushed again. Like Ania, she had no idea what she was doing. The female was definitely in her first life cycle with Mitya. She had no past experience to draw on.
Then suddenly there was fur covering her body, beautiful, astonishing fur. It was thick and long, the undercoat a gorgeous white. Not golden brown, but pure white with thick black rosettes. They were widely spaced, each almost a perfect circle of dense black. The coat was impressive and different, but definitely Amur, a winter snow coat that was so beautiful and different, she would have been hunted relentlessly in the wild for that alone.
Mitya stroked a hand down her fur, murmuring his approval. Jewel was on the smaller side, weighing not more than sixty pounds, but she was compact and sleek, with roped muscles moving beneath her thick fur. Mitya shifted easily, his experience showing. The transformation was done in close to a second, maybe three at most, his large body suddenly completely different, one moment standing on two legs, the next, Dymka was there, those intimidating eyes completely focused on his mate.
Dymka was large for an Amur leopard. Most large males weighed around a hundred and six or seven pounds. Dymka, clearly, was closer to two hundred pounds of sheer fighting muscle. His body dwarfed Jewel’s, towering over her as he stood beside her, his chin sliding over her back possessively.
She trembled for a moment and then looked into his eyes. Ania felt the impact. Dymka was conveying something important to the female. Ania tried to adjust her imaging to what the male used. You are safe with me. She is safe with me. I will guard you both with my life. Mitya will do the same.
The reassurance was done by shoving images into Jewel’s mind, just as Ania did when she talked to her female. Dymka was much better at it. He had a lot of practice communicating with Mitya.
Jewel tossed her head up, gave Dymka a flirty look and then leapt away from him, heading toward the field where the heavy brush seemed a gateway to the trees just on the other side. The moment she began to run, pain burst along her hip, on her right leg, as if something had shaved through her fur, right along her hip, and stung a long line there. Dymka hit her hard in the side, driving her off her feet so she rolled over and over, his bigger body pushing hers. They ended up in a tangle of limbs just past the first line of brush.
Dymka nudged her to her feet, his body between hers and the road. She realized she’d narrowly escaped being shot. The male was already protecting her. He wanted her to run toward the trees, keeping to the brush. She took off, Dymka prowling after her, shielding her from the road as she made a dash for the trees, her heart in her throat.