EPILOGUE
The girl was just asking to get her ass paddled.
Lack of moonlight and the impenetrable darkness of the forest hid the black panther prowling over pine needles and damp leaves. His ears flicked in displeasure, his muzzle twisted into the feline version of pissed-off alpha male.
How long did Alisia think she could continue sneaking around without him finding out? He was a freaking shapeshifter. With his acute hearing and overdeveloped sense of smell, of course he’d learn about her late-night escapades.
His nose twitched, sorting through the assortment of odors that assaulted his senses. Diesel fuel and truck exhaust mixed with rich earth and dying vegetation. Underneath it all was the subtle scent of citrus and the musk of woman. His woman.
Through the shadows, Ripley made out the shape of a large bush growing against the base of a giant pine tree. Upon closer inspection, the black gleam of a Honda CB 919 motorcycle was barely visible between the dense leaves. Thirty yards away, the rumble of logging trucks rolled down the dirt road, hauling the last loads of the night.
So that was how the little minx was getting down the mountain. She was good, he’d give her that. Stashing bits of clothing around the forest to throw him off her scent. His little nurse should’ve remembered that when she was ovulating, her scent changed. The aroma was like catnip, enticing him with the promise of hot, nasty, body-draining sex. Just how he liked it.
Anger and fear for her well-being cut through his lust. Why would she risk going out alone?
Yes, life in their mountain home required some getting used to. As much as Max and Crystal worked at making it feel like a home, they were still cohabitating under layers of volcanic rock with very little sunlight and forced ventilation.
But much to his surprise, Ripley discovered he loved living underground. He was surrounded by nature, nestled deep within her bosom, and there was plenty of room for his animal to take whatever form it wanted.
But where he had the luxury of stretching out his legs and running in the fresh air, his two-legged companions were required to take more caution. A human suddenly appearing from between two boulders would draw much more attention than Ripley in one of his animal forms. The constant vigilance of their privacy would drive him stir crazy, too. Still, jeopardizing her safety, as well as that of the rest of the team by sneaking out, was just plain foolish.
Was she meeting another man?
A snarl broke free with the thought as the fur rippled along his body. No, the cat shook his head, that wasn’t it. He would smell it if she was. Alisia belonged to him. She just had yet to acknowledge it. The woman was being stubborn which, under different circumstances, he usually admired.
He followed her trail back to headquarters. Slipping through a fissure in the rock in the guise of a ferret, he made his way to the secret entrance to his room to change into some clothes. It wasn’t the first place he wanted to stop, but the others appreciated it when he didn’t walk around naked.
The ferret dropped to the floor and stood on his hind legs. His bones snapped like firecrackers, growing into a large, brawny, giant of a man.
Knowing Alisia was at home released the worry in his mind but did nothing to ease the fury bubbling under the surface. His fangs, still extended over his lips, throbbed in his gums as they receded and changed. His claws curled into his palms as they shaped back into fingers.
Yet his muscles quivered, urging him to follow his instinct and claim his mate. Command her to put her in his care and keep her safe. The swollen length of his cock agreed wholeheartedly as pre-cum dripped from the dark crimson head in a steady stream.
Oh God, not again.
“No. No!” he shouted. He would not come at her like an animal.
He stumbled into the bathroom and turned the shower on full force. Icy water cooled the heat of his skin, but the fire of lust continued to flow in his veins. This was the third such attack in the past two months, and by far the strongest.
“Motherfucker,” he groaned, curling into the tile. His long nails tapped a staccato rhythm on the porcelain as he continued to shake.
Sex and fighting. That was all that seemed to dominate his thoughts lately. Sex and fighting, fighting and sex. A vicious cycle that worked him up to the point of explosion. The only time he found any sort of peace was when he took animal shape. But he couldn’t live like that forever. He was still a man, dammit.
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
In through the nose, out through the mouth.
He blindly reached out to adjust the spray of the water and knocked a bottle of shampoo to the floor. The cap popped open and the smell of sandalwood drifted from the puddle of soap mixing with the flow of water.
He snatched the bottle up and held it to his nose, huffing like a junkie.
“Seahawks are 30-1 odds of making it to the Super Bowl. Chargers 15-1, Pats 3-1. Hernandez finished seven for sixteen with seventy-nine strikeouts.” In through the nose, out through the mouth.
Between the deep breathing and random sports statistics, his fangs receded and his fingers returned to normal. When his extremities grew numb from the cold, he shut off the water and staggered out of the bathroom dripping wet. The fight with his instinct left him as weak as a kitten.
A smart man would have fallen on the bed and let sleep take him away, but Ripley couldn’t rest until he was certain that Alisia was safe and confined. He wouldn’t survive if she snuck out again.
He dragged a pair of sweats and a cotton T-shirt over his damp body then padded barefoot down the hall.
The cave was quiet, with everyone already settled in for the night. Again, it made him wonder what Alisia was doing out so late on her own. Her supportive position on the mountain kept her out of the public eye and completely anonymous, but the Evolutioneers were wanted people. It would only take one observant person to follow the beautiful blonde on the motorcycle and give away their position.
His pretty bird wasn’t going to like it, but he was going to have to clip her wings. Or at least Max would, he thought with a rusty chuckle. Make the boss man put his foot down, and then Ripley could console her with a comforting hug followed by heated kisses.
In through the nose, out through the mouth. Don’t go there, or you’ll end up back in that icebox of a shower.
He crept to the door of her room. Laying his ear against the panel, he strained to hear what was happening on the other side. Water ran in the bathroom sink and shut off with a squeak of the knob followed by the soft scrub of bristles against teeth. Safe, homey sounds of Alisia getting ready for bed.
Ripley sighed and rested his head against the wood. Unbidden images of what she might wear to bed drifted through his mind. A lacey, stretchy camisole and short set? T-shirt and panties? Nothing at all?
In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
The scent of apples and hand sanitizer brought his head up in time to see Doc Kelly coming around the corner.
“How did I know I would find you here?” she asked in a hushed voice.
He snorted. “Because I’m a glutton for punishment?” he answered just as softly.
She nodded and smiled with a touch of compassion in her eyes. Then she jerked her head pointedly behind her and headed back down the hall.
Ripley followed her along the twisting walkway to her laboratory/medical center. Once he was inside, she shut the door behind him. The click of the lock sounded much too loud in his ears, like the banging of a gavel, sentencing his fate.
Bracing his feet apart, he folded his arms across his chest. “Well. Did you find anything?”
Doc leaned back against the counter and brushed a lock of hair behind her ears. That sharp gaze of hers looked him over from the top of his head to his bare feet and back up again. Her chest rose on a breath, her mouth fell open to speak, before she deflated like a balloon. “No. Not a thing.”
He bit back a snarl of frustration. “Nothing whatsoever?”
She shook her head. “Physically, you’re normal. Well, normal for you, anyway.” She smirked. “I checked your current blood samples with older ones. There is a higher level of testosterone than before, but nothing to be concerned about. The mood swings you told me about, the aggressive urges, the higher body temperature all fit with the raised testosterone levels. But again, you appear normal.” She paused. “For a human.”
For a human.
His fingers tightened around his biceps at her words. A growl rumbled in his chest as he wrestled with the need to punch his fist against the rock wall. Broken fingers weren’t going to help.
Doc bit her lip and glanced at the ground before meeting his gaze. “Rip, sweetie, I can’t ignore the fact that you’re not entirely all human.” As if he needed her to remind him. “Have you ever seen anything like this in your vet practice?”
He closed his eyes and sank back, letting the wall support his weight. “Yeah, I have.”
Long, tense seconds passed while Ripley contemplated the uncertainty of his future. The problem with being a rarity was that the unknown brought both exhilaration and utter terror. Unfortunately, he had a bad idea of what was in store for him.
Doc’s brow furrowed, worry darkening her eyes as she waited for him to elaborate. “Ripley?”
He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve seen this type of behavior in animals who were feral.”
“Feral?” she gaped in horror. “As in deranged?”
A humorless grin twisted his lips. “Not deranged. What it means is, I’m turning wild.”