His Darkest Embrace (Jaguar Warriors 2)

It was time someone taught Skye Knightly a lesson.

A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he relaxed. He was more than up for the job. He shifted his body, hissing softly as the bulge between his legs throbbed with a need long denied.

Christ, was he up for it.

Once he was somewhat comfortable, he opened his mind up and listened. The nocturnal sounds of the jungle comprised a melody he would never tire of. It fed his soul in a way that was indescribable. It calmed him.

Again, his eyes wandered over Skye’s still form. Her chest rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep. The woman was a mystery. One that, he was pissed to admit, intrigued the hell out of him.

He didn’t trust her, didn’t know anything about her other than the fact that, apparently, they were natural-born enemies.

He got to his feet and crossed over to where she lay. Hopefully, when he rendezvoused with Cracker and the boys, they’d have more information on her family, the Knightlys. He knew her father was dead and there was a missing brother, Finn, but other than that he was clueless. The whole eagle knight thing was a mystery to him and he didn’t like any loose ends when running a mission.

In a fluid movement Jagger doffed his clothes and quickly tied the loose end of the rope up to one of the protruding branches of the downed tree to her right. He left it in an intricate knot, knowing it would be a cold day in hell before she was able to undo it.

He cracked the bones in his neck and rolled his shoulders as the mist began to crawl up over his long limbs. Within seconds his bones popped, limbs shortened, torso elongated, and a thick, shiny black pelt was left in place of his flesh. The jaguar barked a soft call, its long tail swishing back and forth slowly as its senses drifted on the languid breeze.

After a few moments the animal jumped over the long, tanned feminine legs at its feet and disappeared into the underbelly of the jungle.

The powerful cat roamed a great distance, hunting, tracking, but there was no enemy to be found. Neither animal nor human nor otherworld. And while this was a good thing, Jagger was on edge. He sensed something off, a slight kink in the ebb and flow of the vibrations that ran along Mother Earth.

Was it otherworld? He was frustrated because, truthfully, he had no clue, and other than a vague feeling, there was no evidence to be found.

His thoughts turned to Skye and her weird behavior the night before. Was there some merit to her actions? Had she sensed something he’d not been able to? Or was she just one hell of an actress?

The large cat scoured as much area as he could, seeking out any enemy that he might have missed. When the first fingers of sunlight began to tint the sky, jagged shards of gold bleeding through the early gloom, he turned and made his way back to where he’d left Skye.

Jagger knew they still had a good day’s hike before they would get anywhere near the jaguar reserve. And that was at the relentless pace only someone with the strength of the jaguar or eagle could attain.

He shook off the eerie quiet of the jungle and took off running. There was no time to waste.

He approached the ruins where they’d taken shelter the night before and slowed as he came abreast of them. Skye’s subtle, fragrant scent hung in the air like a seductive invitation. He began to pant, his nostrils quivering, and his tail twitched aggressively, snaking back and forth.

Jagger growled from deep in his chest as he glided over the soft earth. He rounded the edge of the broken-down stone wall, its sad gray countenance mostly covered by the myriad of greenery that made up the jungle floor.

He immediately caught wind of the scent of blood and swung his great head back and forth, panic nipping at him when he saw that Skye was not where he’d left her. The rope lay in tatters, covered in the unmistakable scent of her blood.

Jagger’s vision narrowed as the panic he felt intensified to an overwhelming sense of fear. He had left her there, tied up and defenseless. What the hell had he been thinking?

The mist immediately crawled over the powerful body of the cat and seconds later a tall human form emerged and ran toward the edge of the ruins.

Jagger knelt down, his fingers touching the earth at his feet.

The ground was messed up, but as far as he could see there was only one set of footprints. He scented the air, but other than Skye’s fragrance there was nothing to be found. He quickly donned his clothes, pulled on his boots, and followed the trail back into the jungle. It led in the opposite direction from where he’d been.

He raced through the thick underbrush, his mind and body focused on Skye. It wasn’t hard: she’d made no effort to cover her tracks and the scent of blood and fear lay heavy in the air. He found her less than a quarter of a mile away, at the edge of a small waterfall that fell from a sheer rock face.

She turned to him and that was all it took. He was at her side in seconds, a deep scorching shame hitting him hard as he looked down at her.

Her long hair lay in a wild mess, the thick waves untamed in the humid, wet air. Her tank top, drenched from the

mist that hung in the air, was shredded violently and barely covered her breasts. The ragged edges were ugly, like gaping wounds. Large dark stains marred the white cotton and he could see that it was blood.

His gaze dropped to the chafed and torn flesh at her waist, and the shame he felt intensified.

What had he done to her?

“I thought you’d left me,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “Like everyone else.”