Page 21 of Magic Pussy

Never had she been gladder to be a brown lady than she was in that moment. She felt her cheeks burn, and if her complexion had been lighter, her entire face would have been red. Her? Who even said shit like that.

"I realized my cat has never met you," he explained.

Oh, well. That was considerably less cheesy.

Good.

It was good, right?

"That should be interesting," Rain replied cautiously.

Since leaving Louisiana, she'd been around plenty of shifters, Ace, Vivicia, and others. Each animal behaved very differently; some hissed, others came for a sniff, and a rare few tiptoed to her to get a scratch. Then there was Ace's, who'd done all three in the space of a few minutes.

She wondered about Luke's cat. She couldn't imagine that it would be the goofy, welcoming kind. Luke was quiet and brooding most of the time. There was something mysterious about him, an edge she couldn't quite identify. While his dominance level was nowhere as noticeable as Rye's, Ace's, or even Daunte's, Rain didn't doubt that he could have been alpha in another pack. The Wyverns somehow managed to relatively peacefully include a dozen extremely dominant shifters; Rain suspected that it had to do with Christine's presence. As an omega, she could absorb the excess of stupid animosity dominant shifters were prone to. But typically, in packs and prides, there wasn't more than a handful of extremely strong characters like them.

And yet, while he could have been alpha, Rain wasn't surprised that he wasn't; he didn't seem to be the type. Luke was all for observing from a distance, laid back, only acting when it was absolutely necessary.

Which, of course, begged the question: why was he here at all? Volunteering for going away from the pride, into hostile territory, wasn't in his character.

The cheetah was going to be reserved and hostile, she was practically sure of it. It probably had to do with the fact that it had lost all his family, everyone who had mattered to him.

"Should I be concerned? Go prepared? I can buy some catnip balls to throw at you."

Luke narrowed his eyes. "How many times will I have to tell you that I'm no kitten, witch?"

She shrugged. "Ace loves catnip."

"Ace is half an actual cat. And she's insane."

Good point.

"And I won't attack you. Not now, not ever. Don't you ever worry about that."

Turned out, he was wrong. She did get attacked, in a manner of speaking.

Rather than taking dusty tunnels, this time Rain went to get a rental car, and drove to the bayou, remaining out of the local shifters’ way.

It was still technically their land, but no one headed out to this particular swamp, for fear of some urban legend that felt all too real when you were a paranormal.

It was said that a jilted bride had killed herself down there and that she still haunted the swamp. Probably poppycock, but no one wanted to test it out.

Rain used to steer clear, too, but hanging out with a ghost for a year had somewhat changed her perspective.

Grandma Iris rode with them in the back seat. The moment they left the city, she disappeared; Rain couldn't see her in the rear-view mirror. She still felt her presence, though.

They got to the swamp and Rain had the pleasure of watching Luke get undressed. He didn't even try to find some privacy, peeling his t-shirt from his torso and then dropping his pants. Rain almost wanted to tell him to slow down and put some music on so she could enjoy the full experience.

He went commando, of course. His kind often did, because it was fewer clothes to tear apart if they ever needed to shift in a hurry.

God bless shifters' inherent lack of modesty.

The man was ripped. And fucking hot. And very, very...big. She wasn't only talking about his hulking six-foot-three Scandinavian frame, here. If memory served, Luke had previously admitted to Viking roots.

Then her eyes had gone to his crotch, and stayed there.

"You know, it's rude to stare," he informed her, somewhat indifferently.

"I can't help it. It's basically in my face."

---