The Snow Leopard's Pack (Glacier Leopards Book 5) by Zoe Chant (1)

The mountain lion was back.

Lillian Lowell clutched her car keys tighter as she hurried from the door of the CVS to her car. The mountain lion was crouched at the very edge of the parking lot, watching her.

This was the second day in a row she’d seen it. Yesterday, she’d closed up the library and come out to find a big, dirty-yellow cat sitting calmly by the street. She’d stifled a shriek and run to her car, and called Animal Control as soon as she was safely away.

She’d gone home feeling shaky and afraid. She hadn’t mentioned the incident to her mother, though, because the potential for overreaction was...high. Even though Lillian was a divorced adult woman in her thirties, her mother tended to treat her like a child.

Anyway, Animal Control had told her they’d investigate, but they hadn’t known specifically what mountain lion she’d been talking about.

This morning, after she’d arrived at the library, she’d waited in her car for several minutes while she craned her neck in all directions, trying to make sure it wasn’t still there. But there hadn’t been any sign of it, so she’d gone into work as normal.

But now it was here at the CVS, several blocks from the library. Watching.

She fumbled with her keys, hitting the button to unlock the door while she kept her eyes fixed on the big cat. She yanked the door open and got in, breathing out a long sigh. Safe.

But then it stood up, yawned—showing her a set of enormous yellowed teeth—and stretched. Its body seemed impossibly long as it reached forward, flexing its claws. Lillian shoved the keys in the ignition, not taking her eyes off of it.

Just as she started the car, the mountain lion’s body seemed to—shiver. Shimmer. Something.

And then, as she watched with her heart in her throat, the cat transformed into a man.

A shapeshifter.

He was shortish, heavyset, with a scruffy beard, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Lillian didn’t recognized him at all. But he looked straight at her, grinned, and gave her a little salute with two fingers.

Lillian pulled out of the parking lot with a shriek of tires, gunning the gas to get out on the road as fast as possible. It was loud enough that there was no way she could actually hear the man laughing behind her, but her imagination couldn’t let go of the idea.

She started to drive home, wanting nothing more than to get to safety...and then hesitated.

The shapeshifter had shown up at her job, and then at the store she always stopped at on the way home.

If he was following her, he probably already knew where she lived. Maybe he’d show up there, too.

And Lillian lived with her parents—had lived with them for years, since her divorce. If this shapeshifter was stalking her, wanted to hurt her or scare her for whatever reason, she couldn’t put her mom and dad at risk by going right home and just...waiting for him to show up again.

Besides, that sounded like a nightmare. She’d be constantly checking the windows, ready to dial 911 at the slightest sound. She wouldn’t sleep a wink.

She pulled over. She couldn’t go home, not until she knew it was safe. But then where could she go? Was anywhere safe?

Lillian knew that the area around Glacier National Park, where she’d lived her entire life, was a place where shifters were very common. In most of the world, they were a secret. But there were some communities with so many shapeshifters that everyone knew about them, an open secret.

Still, Lillian had managed to avoid them for most of her life. Shifters were supposed to be unpredictable and dangerous. There was no telling what their animal instincts might lead them to do, and it was safer to stay away from them altogether. Her parents had forbidden her to be friends with any of them in school, and she’d kept that up in her adult life.

At least, that was what she’d always tried to do. Until several months ago, when her little sister Teri had become one.

Since then, Lillian had been torn.

Her mother, on the other hand, had declared Teri lost to the family. It wasn’t clear whether Teri’s change was her true rebellious nature coming out, or whether being turned had erased her whole personality, and put some animal in her place.

Lillian knew it was the first option. Teri had always chafed against their mother’s controlling behavior. She’d never learned how to go with the flow, to steer their mom gently toward agreement.

Teri always had to go her own way, and Lillian thought that meeting a snow leopard, shacking up with him, and getting turned into one herself was the all-out rebellion that had been stewing for a while.

Maybe it was just because she couldn’t bring herself to believe that her baby sister was now a vicious animal. But she was pretty sure she was right.

They’d barely talked since Teri had left with her shifter fiancé. Every few weeks, Lillian would call, just to ask her if she was all right. Teri would assure her that she was fine. And Lillian couldn’t quite bring herself to ask anything beyond that, because she was afraid of the answers.

What’s it like, being a shapeshifter? What about your man, is he good to you? Is his family the family you always wanted? Better than us?

Are you happier now?

A flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Lillian jumped in her seat, heart pounding, as the mountain lion bounded past her car, settling on the grassy curb and staring at her.

Lillian stared back at it. Why was it doing this? What did it want?

Slowly, it lifted a paw, and flexed its claws.

Lillian caught her breath. Was it going to attack her? What happened if she parked somewhere else and got out, and it was lying in wait? Would she be killed?

Lillian was struck with the incontrovertible knowledge that she couldn’t handle this alone. She could try calling the police, but she didn’t know if they had any policy in place about how to deal with shifters, since shifters didn’t even have any legal existence.

And maybe some of the police were shapeshifters. If so, would they be on the mountain lion’s side?

The whole idea was terrifying. And Lillian had never dealt well with being scared. She didn’t like scary movies, was always afraid of walking alone at night, and hated any kind of fighting or conflict.

It was a cliché, really. The spinster librarian, single at 33 and living with her parents, jumping at shadows and unable to take care of herself.

But that was the reality and she had to accept it. She couldn’t fight off a mountain lion by herself. She didn’t know how any of this worked. She had no idea what had made this shifter target her, and she didn’t know how violent it could get. She didn’t know if there was some sort of...shapeshifter policing body that could stop it, or if all shifters sided with one another.

But she did know someone who could find out.

With shaking fingers, not taking her eyes off the mountain lion, she pulled out her cell phone and called her sister.

***

Cal Westland settled into his desk chair with a sigh. It was the end of the regular working day at Glacier National Park, which meant reviewing everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, then getting everything ready for tomorrow.

This didn’t mark the end of his working day, though. Once he was done with all of the computer business, he’d head out into the Park itself. The sun would be setting by then—just barely, it was late these days, here in the middle of July—and he’d shift into his snow leopard form to do a long patrol of the major tourist areas.

He’d check on anywhere that had been a problem; today, that was that area of the lake where the waterweed was out of control, and ready to tangle up unwary swimmers. Then he’d finish up with a good run along some path that he’d been neglecting lately, refresh his understanding of what the landscape was doing. Finally, he’d head home to his cabin.

It was a satisfying way to spend a workday. Cal was aware that he was among the luckiest men he’d ever met. He’d come home from Iraq over ten years ago, sure that he was going to end up another out-of-work vet sitting around with his memories—good and bad.

Instead, Major Wilson Hanes, the best officer he’d ever served under, had called him up about five minutes after his feet touched American soil again, to tell him he had a job for him.

Major Hanes had set him up at Glacier. Knowing Cal was a shifter—Hanes was a snow leopard shifter himself, and involved in the top-secret military echelons who knew about shifters and used them to the best of their abilities—he’d found the place in America most likely to make a snow leopard feel at home.

Cal had never had the chance to express his gratitude. But someday he was going to find a way.

Now, he’d spent ten years working every day in the wild, rocky, endless natural expanse of Glacier National Park, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Cal was brought out of his thoughts by a knock at his office door.

He indulged himself by playing one of his favorite guessing games. The knock was quick and confident, loud but not the echoing thump of a large fist—rather, the rap of a small one. Teri.

“Come,” he called.

Sure enough, the little blonde head that poked around the door belonged to Teri Lowell, his newest hire and the second-newest member of Glacier’s little cabal of snow leopards.

“Sorry to bother you,” Teri said. Cal could hear the sir that she’d almost tacked on to the end of that.

He wished he could police the silent “sirs” as thoroughly as he did the audible ones. No Marine gunnery sergeant wanted to be called “sir.” Cal worked for a living, after all.

“I need your help,” Teri was saying earnestly.

“Come on in, then,” Cal said, nodding to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Teri stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She looked nervous, Cal noticed, which wasn’t like her. Normally she was one of the most confident, chipper employees he’d ever had. Something must have gone wrong.

“All right, out with it,” he said, mentally bracing himself for news of a missing tourist or an injury. Surely Teri would’ve learned by now that something of that nature needed to be reported right away, without any hesitation.

“It’s my sister,” Teri said in a rush. Then she bit her lip.

Cal frowned. That was unexpected. “Your sister’s at the Park?”

“No, no.” Teri shook her head. “Sorry. This isn’t Park business. It’s...pack business.”

Cal sat back in his chair, trying to look thoughtful, and not like he was possessed by a growing wariness.

Pack business. What was pack business? Cal had done his very best, as more leopards showed up at Glacier and clustered around him, to make it clear that he wasn’t running a kingdom or a dictatorship, and that they were all adults who could live their own lives just fine. And if they couldn’t, well, they probably needed help he couldn’t give them.

But now Teri, one of the most capable young women he knew, was coming to him with “pack business.”

“My sister’s in trouble,” Teri said, leaning forward so her elbows were on her knees. “There’s a shifter stalking her. A mountain lion.”

That stopped Cal’s thoughts in their tracks.

“A mountain lion,” he said slowly.

A mountain lion stalking a woman. A human woman? She must be: Teri had only been turned a few months ago, and Cal understood that there’d been some issues with her family not liking shifters.

It wasn’t his business at all, so he’d kept his nose out and his attention on Teri’s work, not her family life. But if her sister was human, and a shifter was stalking her—

“What do you mean, stalking?” Cal asked. “Just following her? Threatening her?”

“She said he’s shown up outside her job, following her car as she went home, showing up in the parking lot where she was shopping,” Teri said, twisting her fingers together. “She’s afraid. She doesn’t know what he wants, or what to do. I’m the only shifter she really knows, but I’ve only been a shifter for a few months, and I don’t know much about the community here. Zach really doesn’t either.”

Zach was Teri’s mate, who’d moved here with his brother to take a ranger job several months before. There was no reason for him to know the ins and outs of shifter relations at Glacier.

Teri bit her lip. “Lillian’s scared, Cal. She has no idea what to do. She doesn’t know if calling the police would help, and she doesn’t want to go home, because she lives with our parents and she won’t put them in danger. She needs help, and I don’t know what’s best.”

As a rule, Cal didn’t interfere with the lives of his employees. Sometimes, though, he found himself in a position where they were asking him to. For example, Joel, Zach’s brother, had come to Cal for advice about his mate a month or two ago. Cal hadn’t been about to turn him away when he needed help, so he’d talked him through the problem and sent him on his way.

When he’d realized that Joel thought he needed Cal’s permission for his mate, Nina, to settle in town and join their community, Cal had told them that he wasn’t the sort to put his nose in other people’s business. They could live their lives without any interference from him, after all.

On the whole, he found that discouraging people from coming to him for issues in their own personal lives just meant that they sorted those issues out just fine among themselves. And probably grew into better people as a result of it.

But if an innocent woman was in trouble...that was a different kind of a thing.

“Where is your sister now?” he asked.

“On her way here,” Teri said. “I thought that, if nothing else, there’s a larger concentration of shifters here in the Park than in most places, so we could keep her safe if anything happened.”

Cal nodded, thinking. Mountain lions.

Well, he knew a mountain lion or two in town. And they were men who wouldn’t hesitate to frighten a woman if it would get them something they wanted.

The question was: what did they want?

“Go meet her when she gets to the Park, and have her come here,” Cal directed Teri. “Maybe we can get this sorted out without too much fuss.”

Teri nodded vigorously, and hopped up out of the chair. There was that familiar energy, Cal thought, with a traitorous hint of fondness.

He didn’t want to play favorites among his employees. He particularly didn’t want to be seen treating the leopards any differently from the humans. But he’d always had a bit of a soft spot for Teri.

As Teri left the office, Cal found himself wondering if her sister was just like her. Tiny, blonde, and full of energy? Probably younger, if she lived with Teri’s parents. Maybe more impulsive. He pictured a teenaged girl with all of Teri’s willfulness and enthusiasm. He could see a girl like that not realizing how dangerous the local mountain lions could be, or maybe getting caught up in the thrill of potential danger, and getting herself in trouble.

Cal caught himself thinking, Well, I’ll get it sorted out, and shook his head at himself. He wasn’t here to manage other people’s lives. He had plenty to manage with the Park.

He’d just make sure the girl was safe, and that would be it.

Resolved to keep on minding his own business as much as possible, Cal turned his attention back to paperwork. He’d gone through most of the day’s business by the time there was another quick, pert knock at his door.

“Come,” he called, and in came Teri, followed by—

Cal found himself caught out. This had to be the sister, but she wasn’t anything like he’d pictured. Not a little bubbly blonde teenager at all.

No, this was a fully-grown woman, older than Teri by at least a few years. In her thirties, definitely. A mature woman, taller than her sister, with generous curves—but conservatively dressed, with her hair twisted up into the sort of elegant coif that dared gravity to mess with it.

And she was somehow...drawn in on herself. He couldn’t see Teri’s cheerful energy in this woman. There wasn’t any obvious upset, either. Instead, she presented a smooth, polite expression as she moved gracefully forward to take the seat he indicated.

“Cal, this is my sister Lillian,” Teri was saying, nervousness hovering around her. “Lillian, my boss, Cal, and the alpha of the snow leopard pack.”

If they’d been alone, Cal would’ve automatically protested that label. He was no one’s alpha; he refused to take away anyone’s freedom like that. The leopards at Glacier didn’t have to kowtow to him.

But somehow, faced with this careful, composed woman, sitting perched on the edge of one of his office chairs, he found himself swallowing the protest down.

She’s really scared, Teri had said.

Lillian didn’t seem scared. She seemed calm, poised, and ready to have a reasoned discussion about the situation. Her eyes, a striking dark blue color, met his without any hesitation.

But if he looked closer...her jaw was tight. One of her hands was clenched around the other. She sat ramrod-straight in the chair.

And with his leopard’s senses, he could scent it in the air. Fear.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for this woman to believe that Cal had the authority to help her with her problem.

So he gave her a friendly smile—he saw Teri do a double-take out of the corner of his eye, which was not flattering; he did smile on occasion, and it didn’t even crack his face open—and said, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Lowell. Why don’t you tell me about your mountain lion problem?”

Lillian met his eyes steadily as she said, “It’s been two days now. Yesterday, I thought it was just a wild cat in the library parking lot, and I called Animal Control. But today he was waiting outside the store when I was running errands after work. And this time, while I watched, he shifted into a man. He followed me through the streets while I drove, and when I pulled over, he waited, and—appeared threatening.”

“Threatening?” Cal frowned.

Lillian smoothed her skirt in what looked like a reflexive motion. “Baring his teeth. Flexing his claws.”

Cal’s inner leopard was taking notice. Had taken notice, in fact, from the second she walked in the door. But now it was starting to growl. Misbehaving cats. Shouldn’t be threatening her.

Cal mentally caught his leopard by the scruff of its neck. No one benefited from flying off the handle without all the information. “Did he talk to you? Tell you why?”

Lillian shook her head. “I don’t know what he wants. Or even if he’s dangerous. Maybe he’s just playing some kind of game, and there’s nothing at stake other than making me uncomfortable. But—” She stopped, compressing her lips together.

But she’s afraid it’s more than that. Cal could fill in the end of that sentence without any trouble.

If he were a human woman being stalked by a shifter with no apparent reason, he’d be afraid too.

His leopard growled.

“Have you met any of the mountain lions before?” he pressed. “Or other shifters in the area? Any idea why this man is targeting you?”

Lillian shook her head without any hesitation. “My only connection to shifters is through my sister. So unless she has somehow gotten on the wrong side of this man—”

The sudden tartness of her tone caught Cal by surprise, and he had to suppress a laugh. Even more so when Teri sent back a trademark little-sister offended glare and said, “Excuse me, I told you I had no idea what might be wrong and I meant it.”

Lillian seemed to accept that, and turned back to Cal. “I don’t know anything about the local shifter community. I’ve never had any interaction with them at all. Is there some kind of—organization? Any governing body?”

Cal shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The leopards tend to cluster around the Park, so we’ve got a bit of a community here, but otherwise people keep pretty much to themselves. The mountain lions—well, they can be loose cannons. Not smart to cross them.”

“I haven’t crossed them,” Lillian said, with a bit of a steel edge to her voice.

“I believe you,” Cal said quietly.

She seemed surprised to hear that, though he couldn’t think why. But for the first time, she sat back a bit in her chair, losing some of the fear-tense posture.

“Can you help me?” she asked, her soft tone matching his.

Cal was struck by the sense that this was a proud woman in front of him—someone who rarely asked for help. He was surprised at the wellspring of anger that was rising in his chest. The idea that someone would accost Lillian Lowell, frighten her and send her here to his office, to sacrifice her pride and ask for help—

Well, he didn’t know why that was getting his back up so much, but it was.

So he met her deep blue eyes and said, “I can.”

Her posture relaxed minutely. Relief. Cal wondered what her life had been like, that she was so locked down. Especially when her sister was so expressive. It didn’t seem to make sense.

“I make it a point to know who all the local shifters are,” Cal said. It was an old holdover from the Marines: make sure you know the territory. He’d gotten to know everyone automatically when he’d first moved in, even though he wasn’t naturally a social man, just because it was good tactics. By the time he’d settled back in enough to remember he wasn’t on enemy soil any longer, the habit was ingrained. And it’d paid off a few times over the years. “Can you describe what he looked like as a man?”

Lillian gave a quick but detailed description—about six feet, longish brown hair and beard, narrow face and deep-set eyes, wearing jeans and a dirty white tank top.

“Okay. That gives me an idea or two. I can go ask around, confirm who the guy is and why he thinks it’s a good idea to be hassling you,” Cal continued. “With luck, it’s just a dumb prank. Someone’ll bring him in line, and you can go about your business without any more trouble.”

“And if it isn’t?” Lillian asked, her voice steady.

Cal felt a rush of protectiveness. What was it about her that was bringing this out of him?

“Then I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Meanwhile, why don’t you go home with your sister tonight. Teri, you and Zach keep alert, why don’t you. Just in case.”

Teri nodded firmly. “We’ll keep watch. We can call in Joel and Nina, too.”

“There’s no need for this much fuss,” Lillian said, standing up. “I’ll take a spare bed for the night, but please don’t disturb anyone else’s evenings for what’s probably a prank.”

“Sorry,” Teri said cheerfully, standing up as well. “I’m going to disturb as many people as it takes, and you can’t stop me.”

Lillian closed her eyes briefly, then seemed to resign herself to Teri’s determined protection. She leaned forward, extending her hand. “Thank you very much, Mr. Westland.”

“Cal,” Cal found himself saying, taking her hand. It was softer than he’d expected—for some reason, she gave the impression of someone who had calloused, working hands.

Capable, he thought as he shook her hand. She seemed capable.

Her handshake was strong and confident, and she nodded once as she took her hand back. Cal got a breath of her scent, the fear receding enough to reveal something delicately feminine that he couldn’t put a name to.

“Cal,” she repeated. “Please call me Lillian. I’m very grateful to you.”

“Just doing my job,” Cal assured her.

It was only after she and Teri had left the office, closing the door behind them, that he realized that was a bald-faced lie. It was in no way Cal’s job to police the shifter community, particularly not the mountain lions, who had no connection with the snow leopards whatsoever, not even in a casual social way.

Well. It didn’t matter much, did it? Because he was going to find whatever little upstart mountain lion thought it was a good idea to mess with innocent women, and he was going to whip him into shape.

His leopard growled agreement.

***

Lillian ended up driving herself and Teri to Teri’s home.

“Still don’t have a car,” Teri said on their way to the parking lot, with a cheerful lack of embarrassment. “I can hitch with Zach if we’re on the same schedule, and even if we aren’t, it’s bikeable.”

Last winter, Teri had been in an awful car accident; she’d skidded on ice and her car had been totaled. It had taken her months to recover, and Lillian had to admit she was still a bit on-edge about Teri’s health. Almost losing her baby sister had been the worst experience of her entire life.

She’d come out of it somewhat overprotective, she had to admit. Although not nearly as bad as their mother, who had eventually driven Teri away because of it.

Teri gave her directions. Lillian was ashamed to realize that she didn’t even know where her sister lived.

“So,” she said tentatively as she drove, “you’ve been...happy? The last few months?”

Teri shot her a sidelong look. “The happiest I’ve ever been.”

That stung a bit. Teri’d had barely any contact with Lillian, and none at all with their parents, since moving out with her fiancé. And it was the happiest she’d ever been?

Lillian tried not to be hurt, or get defensive. Right now, she was focused on Teri. And Teri was happy, which was good: Lillian wanted Teri to be happy. Even if she was separate from her family, even if that did sting.

“And you like being—” Say it, say it, say it like it’s normal—”a shifter?”

Teri nodded vigorously. “It’s amazing, Lillian. I’m so strong, so fast. I can spend so much time outdoors, out in the Park. And I have this—it’s hard to explain. This presence inside me. My leopard. And she’s fierce, and powerful, and like a part of me that I never knew was missing.”

That sounded...hm. “Does she ever...overwhelm you?” Lillian asked delicately.

Teri shook her head immediately. “No. We’re a team.”

Lillian tried to reconcile that with what she’d learned about shifters growing up. That they were dangerous. That they couldn’t control their animal instincts. That they were violent.

She’d been caught between worry and wonder, ever since Teri had been changed. She didn’t know which was right.

Maybe this was her chance to learn. And to re-forge a relationship with her sister. They’d barely spoken since Teri moved out, and Lillian hated that.

“And how does this community work, exactly?” Lillian asked cautiously. “Your boss Cal presented a very...anarchistic picture. But he’s clearly in charge of something. You called him an alpha.”

Lillian had to admit that Cal Westland hadn’t been at all what she would’ve expected of a shifter leader. She’d pictured a shaggy, rangy type, living out in the woods. Surrounded, cult-fashion, by all of his followers.

Not the calm, thoughtful, fortyish man with the salt-and-pepper hair in a severe military style. It had been obvious that he was powerfully built, even sitting behind his desk, but he gave off a sense of...control. Like a man who was absolutely in command of himself.

Lillian hadn’t known very many men who were in command of themselves. The thought made her a bit wistful.

“Well,” Teri was saying thoughtfully, “it’s sort of hard to explain. Especially since we’re such a ragtag group—Grey’s the only one who really grew up in a shifter community, and he left it when he was a teenager. So most of us are making it up as we go along.”

“Cal too?” Lillian asked curiously. Was that self-command an act? Or just the sign of a man who didn’t need any external rules, because his own were strong enough to last?

Teri hesitated. “I don’t know about Cal. He doesn’t really talk about his past.”

“Oh.” That was oddly disappointing.

“Anyway,” Teri said, “apparently how it’s supposed to work is that anywhere you have a group of shifters, you have a leader. Some people call them an alpha. And they’re in charge of the group, and they have a say in who stays and who goes, and they keep everyone in line.”

Apparently how it’s supposed to work. “And how does it actually work, then?”

“Glacier is kind of weird in that it has all of these different kinds of shifters, and a lot of them are loners. So, like, old Mr. Thatcher and his daughter are hawk shifters—”

“They are?” Lillian had gone to school with Sarah Thatcher, and had had no idea.

Teri nodded. “Oh yeah. I didn’t know either. Anyway, there’s only the two of them, and they’re not about to let anyone else boss them around, you know? And that’s the case for a lot of the local shifters. One bear living out in the mountains, well, she minds her own business and no one cares.”

That made a certain amount of sense. “But you said Cal was an alpha.”

“Right, so, then there are a few types of shifters that actually have enough people for a community. And we’re one of them—the snow leopards.”

Snow leopards. Lillian had only had the very briefest glimpse of Teri’s shifted form, months ago. She’d had to do some Googling before she’d figured out that it must be a snow leopard.

Since then, she’d read all about snow leopards on the Internet, learning how beautiful they were, how they could turn almost invisible in a mountainous environment, the harsh climates that they could survive.

How, unlike most big cats, they took mates. That had made her feel much better about Teri’s situation—she’d rushed into the relationship so fast that Lillian would’ve been worried even without the shapeshifter aspect, but it seemed like snow leopards were committed animals.

“Snow leopards are super rare, actually,” Teri continued, “and Glacier is one of the few places in North America that has more than one or two. This environment is really well-suited to us. So there’s quite a few. And a lot of us are attached to the Park in some way. So, since Cal’s the head ranger at the Park, and has been here the longest of most of us, and is so much older—”

He hadn’t seemed that old to Lillian. Although she supposed that when you were twenty-five, forty was ancient.

“—he’s ended up in charge. He’s kind of ornery about it,” and Teri’s mouth quirked up in a smile, “and a lot of the time he’ll tell us it’s our job to sort out our own lives. He probably doesn’t like the label alpha, actually. But we all know that if there was ever a real problem, we could come to him. Like now.”

We all know that if there was ever a real problem, we could come to him.

Against her will, Lillian was envious.

What would it be like, to have someone around who didn’t want to tell you what to do, but was willing to help when you needed it?

Lillian’s mother wanted nothing more than to order everyone around and make them help her. Lillian’s father had shrunk down into almost nothing during their years of marriage, and obeyed his wife in every part of his life.

Lillian’s own marriage...well, the less said about that, the better. It had been over for two years now, and that was the best thing about it.

“Oh, right here,” Teri said, pointing at a house coming up on the left. It was modestly-sized, but clearly well taken care of, with cheerful sky blue trim and a neat lawn.

It was nothing like their mother’s dire predictions of a broken-down shack in the woods. She’d been convinced that Teri had gone off to live in squalor. Lillian was very happy to find out that she’d been wrong.

She pulled into the driveway and found herself checking all of the windows to make sure the mountain lion wasn’t lying in wait for her again. But she didn’t see it.

Teri noticed. “Don’t worry,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “If he shows up again, I’ll kick his butt. I bet I’m stronger than he is.”

“No,” Lillian said firmly, “if he shows up again, we’ll go inside the house and call for help. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

“Lil,” Teri said, with a strange note in her voice, “you can’t tell me what to do.”

It was odd. The line should’ve been delivered with a childish pettiness—the kind that Lillian had heard from Teri many times over the years. But instead, Teri said it with such an assured confidence, with a hint of...compassion.

Like Lillian had gotten something wrong, and Teri was gently correcting her, because she knew better.

It was a strange, uneasy feeling.

“Well, he doesn’t seem to be here, so it doesn’t matter,” Lillian said briskly, trying to move past the odd moment with action. “Will you show me around your home?”

That distracted Teri right away, and she hopped out of the car, leading Lillian inside with noticeable excitement.

“So this is the living room, and it’s mostly furniture that was already here when Zach moved in, but I found this chair at Lenny’s antiques—” Teri plunged into the tour, obviously proud of her house and excited to show it off.

Lillian was struck by how happy she seemed. For some reason, Lillian had had the idea that Teri had simply grown out of her childhood bubbly effervescence. That adult Teri was more sober, more likely to get angry or upset.

Instead, it seemed like those qualities had been the result of her situation. Now, here in this home that she obviously loved, her natural sunny disposition had come out again.

Lillian was torn—obviously she was happy that her sister was happy. But if the family had been what made her unhappy...

She followed Teri through the tour of the house, paying close attention to the things Teri seemed to be especially proud of. The tour ended in a pleasant, simply-decorated bedroom.

“This is where you can stay,” Teri announced. “Joel and Nina sometimes sleep here, but these days they’re always up in their cabin, now that Joel’s almost done fixing it up.”

“And Joel and Nina are...” Lillian said hesitantly.

“Oh, I completely forgot you’ve never met them,” Teri said, flushing. “Um, sorry. Joel is Zach’s brother, and Nina is Joel’s mate. Fiancée. You know.”

Lillian filed that away: apparently shifters used “mate” to mean “romantic partner.”

She also couldn’t help but notice that Teri had a whole new family, now—not only a fiancé, but a new brother- and sister-in-law.

Their mother had been expecting Teri to come crawling back any day, having realized that running away with her boyfriend wasn’t a good long-term solution for her life, and that she belonged with her family.

Lillian was starting to suspect that her mother was both wrong and right. Teri did belong with her family—but maybe it was this family, and not theirs.

It suddenly seemed possible that the state of the last few months—hardly speaking at all, never seeing Teri face-to-face once since she’d left—could just...keep on going.

And that was something Lillian didn’t think she could bear. To lose her baby sister forever...

“Teri, I’m sorry,” burst out of her mouth without any forethought or consent.

Teri’s forehead wrinkled in surprise. “For what?”

“For—for driving you away,” Lillian said, hearing the despair in her voice. “I could tell you were miserable. I knew that Mom was making you crazy, and that it wasn’t going to stop. And I just backed her up, instead of taking your side. I should’ve stood up to her for you.”

Lillian was the big sister, after all, by over seven years. It wasn’t right that Teri had been left to fend for herself like that.

Teri was quiet for a long while. “Thanks,” she said finally. “That means a lot, to hear that.”

Lillian nodded. “Good. You deserved better.”

“I did,” Teri said, with an edge of fierceness. Then she softened, taking on a faraway look. “But...it meant something to me, to break away on my own. You know? No one was letting me stand on my own two feet, so I stood up myself and walked away. And I’m proud of that.”

“Good,” Lillian said again, although her voice broke a little. Her heart was breaking a little, too. No matter how proud of herself Teri was, she shouldn’t have had to do that.

Teri’s eyes focused again, lighting on Lillian with a narrow look. “What about you?” she asked.

Lillian frowned. “What about me? I just told you that I’m sorry, and I truly meant it.”

“No, I mean—you’re still living at home. When are you going to leave?”

“Oh—Teri, I can’t.” The idea made her feel wistful...but it was impossible. For now, she was stuck.

And actually—Lillian made a quick mental note to call her parents to let them know she’d be out tonight. Her mother would hit the roof, but that was easy to circumvent over the phone. There’d be consequences later on, but she’d have to worry about that later on.

Right now, Teri was looking determined. “Sure you can. You said you were moving back in after the divorce to help Mom and Dad out...but they don’t need any help, really. They’re not sick, or too old to take care of themselves. And it’s been two years. You should have your own place.”

“It’s not that simple, Teri.” Lillian made herself sound firm. “You don’t have all the information.”

Teri frowned. “So tell me the information.”

Lillian shook her head. Teri didn’t need to know all of the sad, sordid details. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

Teri accepted that, although her mutinous expression suggested that this wasn’t the last time she’d bring up the subject.

“What are we going to do for dinner?” Lillian asked, to distract her. Teri brightened immediately. Lillian followed her down to the kitchen, determined once again to be happy that her sister was happy. After all, that was enough, wasn’t it? She didn’t need anything more than that.

There was no need to be selfish, after all.

***

It took Cal a while to track any of the mountain lions down.

They weren’t at Oliver’s, the local diner, where he stopped first to have a bite. He nodded at Nina, the waitress and Joel’s new mate, when she served him. “Seen any of Gordon Hennessey’s crowd in here tonight?”

She shook her head. “Not so far. They usually come in later, though. Drinking.”

Cal nodded. “And how’re you? Settling in?”

Nina’s lips curved in a small smile. “Yes, I am. This is a good place to live. Thank you for letting me stay.”

“No one let anyone do anything,” Cal said. “I’m not in charge of who stays and who goes. If you’re happy here, there’s no reason to leave.”

Nina nodded, although Cal got the sense that she might be humoring him.

He didn’t linger, finishing up his sandwich and fries and leaving a good tip behind, before setting out to sniff out some mountain lions.

He tried one of the local seedy bars, and then the other. He checked the lumber yard, where Gordon worked, and then the broken-down house where he and his girlfriend lived. A couple of hours passed, and he had to give up on the idea of confronting Gordon and his crew in public. It was time to take the search further out.

Gordon’s house was near the edge of town, and it was only a short walk to the beginning of the forest that stretched out for miles around. Cal ducked into the trees and shifted as soon as he was out of sight.

It wasn’t hard to pick up a scent. He followed Gordon’s trail from his job at the lumber yard to one of the seedy bars, and then away from the bar toward the edge of town. He lost it at one point on the street—Gordon must’ve been picked up by one of his crew in a car—but followed his instincts and headed out into the forest.

Sure enough, when he got near enough to Gordon’s brother’s cabin, he could hear a raucous noise coming from it, as the local mountain lions partied away the day.

He frowned. There were a good ten mountain lion shifters in the area, but only four or five of them were the sort of troublemaking men who might be the one stalking Lillian. On the other hand, four or five angry shifters was more than Cal would want to deal with out here on his own. He knew his capabilities, both as a talker and as a fighter, and those were long odds.

His leopard growled, We can take them.

Cal’s leopard was sometimes too eager for his own good.

Still, he wasn’t about to just turn around and go home. He shifted to human, walked up to the cabin, and knocked on the door—loudly enough to penetrate the noise.

There was a pause, and then someone yelled something indistinct at someone else, and then the door was yanked open. Gordon Hennessey’s scowling face stared out at him, and then contracted even further into a ferocious frown. “What do you want?”

“Just here to clear something up,” Cal said politely. “One of my people tells me there’s a mountain lion’s been harassing her sister. Following her around, that sort of thing. You know anything about that? Or maybe your brother does?”

Ordinarily, Cal wouldn’t have leaned on the my people like that. But Gordon was one of those shifters who didn’t much respect the law, the town, the human world, or anything but shifter pack-bonds. So if Cal wanted to get a response, he had to present himself as a fellow alpha.

The frown deepened. “Wayne!” Gordon barked, without taking his eyes from Cal’s for a second.

There was a long pause, and then Wayne Hennessey’s face appeared in the doorway next to his brother’s. His appearance hadn’t changed since Cal had last seen him: longish brown hair and beard, narrow face, and he was wearing a dirty white tank top and jeans.

“You bothering the snow leopards?” Gordon asked him.

Wayne’s face twisted into a surprised scowl. “What? No, what do I care about the snow leopards?”

“How about Lillian Lowell?” Cal put in. “Nice lady, pretty, blonde? Complaining about a mountain lion stalking her at her work?”

Wayne’s expression turned truculent. “She ain’t a snow leopard.”

“Her sister is.”

“Well, send her sister on down here, then!” Wayne’s eyes widened, and he nudged his brother. “We’d be A-okay with some pretty lady snow leopard coming to pay us a visit, wouldn’t we, Gordy?”

“Sure would.” Gordon’s face was impenetrable.

“Wayne,” Cal said, mustering as much patience as he could find, keeping his leopard locked way down, “what’re you after from Ms. Lowell? You just having fun? Can’t get a date on your own?”

“I get plenty of ladies, thank you,” Wayne sniffed. “Nah, I guess you can tell the lady yourself if you want. It’s not her, it’s her husband. He owes me.”

Husband. Her husband. The word struck a heavy chord of wrongness in Cal. “Ms. Lowell isn’t married,” he said carefully.

Neither she nor Teri had mentioned a husband, and she hadn’t been wearing a ring. So she couldn’t be married. Right?

“She was,” Wayne said. “And hubby’s tapped dry, so now it’s her turn. So you tell her that she can deliver the money, or she’s going to have a lot worse to deal with.”

“Threats, Wayne?” Cal asked softly. His leopard was rising in his chest, ready to shift and pounce.

Suddenly Gordon was filling the doorway, taking up more space than he had before. “Doesn’t look like you’re in a position to handle threats, little snow kitty,” he rumbled. “There’s five of us in here, and one of you.”

It rankled to back down, but it was the truth. If there was one thing he’d learned in the Marines, it was that trying to be a lone hero was one of the dumbest things a man could do.

“Wayne,” he said at last, “why didn’t you just tell this to Ms. Lowell instead of stalking her around town?”

Wayne grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. “This way’s more fun.”

“That all, snow kitty?” Gordon asked. “You want to interrogate me about my day too?”

“That’s all,” Cal said. “Be seeing you.”

“Sure will, I bet,” Wayne said, still grinning. Gordon shut the door with a final-sounding thunk.

Cal fought down his leopard’s snarling desire to beat the door down and make those mountain lions leave Lillian be. Nobody would benefit from him getting himself beaten up by five good-for-nothings. Least of all Lillian Lowell.

He sighed to himself, shifted, and headed back to town.

By the time he got back to his truck, it was late—after ten. He thought about his options, then called Teri.

“Hi,” she chirped, sounding cheerful as ever. “What’s up?”

“Found out a few things,” said Cal. “But it’s late enough to call it a day. I think your sister’s safe enough tonight. I’ll swing by tomorrow when you’re on your way to work, take over keeping an eye out for you, and talk the situation over.”

He wanted to go over tonight. Talk to Lillian again, tell her what was up.

Ask her about that husband.

But it was late. She needed sleep, if she’d been running scared from a stalker for days now. Cal could wait until the morning.

“Sounds good,” Teri said. “We’ve got Joel and Nina here, camping out, so it’s a full house if anyone decides to show up.”

“Good,” Cal said, filled with an odd kind of satisfaction at the idea of the group of them all pulling together to help. “See you tomorrow.”

“First thing!” Teri hung up.

Cal was left shaking his head at the phone. How that girl managed to be so upbeat no matter what, he’d never know.

Meanwhile, it was time to get back to the Park and finish up his interrupted workday.

And keep himself from heading back to that cabin and giving those mountain lions an idea of what this Marine thought about terrifying women because of some asshole’s debt.

That was an assumption, he reminded himself. He’d never met Lillian’s husband—ex-husband—and so he had no idea whether the man was an asshole or just a good man who’d gotten into a bad situation.

But he was leaning toward the former. And his leopard growled agreement.

He wondered if that was what had led to Lillian’s air of being so—confined. Contained. As though her personality was kept so carefully managed, so deeply buried, that it could only come out through that lens of perfect, feminine courtesy. He could imagine her at some kind of state function, taking hands and greeting people, all with that calm, reasoned tone of voice that she’d used to describe being scared and upset.

It made him angry.

And that didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t any of his business whether Lillian Lowell had perfect manners or not, and there was nothing wrong with it if she did.

But he couldn’t help wondering what was underneath. And who she showed it to, if anyone. And how he might find out.

Stop it, he scolded himself. The woman was scared, and obviously wary of shifters, for all that her sister was one. The right thing to do was to protect her, show her how shifters could be decent people, and let her go on with her life.

And meanwhile, get back to the Park and do his actual job.

***

Lillian woke up to a strange sense of well-being.

Normally, her day started with a rush of anxiety. She’d be thinking about what her mother needed before it was time to leave for work, what problems and upsets had arisen during the night, how quickly she could get everything done.

She envied Teri so much, sometimes. The way she’d just taken a step and...flown away.

But that wasn’t an option for everyone. Lillian couldn’t leave the way Teri had, so she was just going to have to deal with it.

But having a morning off, even if it was because of a crazy shifter stalker, was an unexpected relief.

Lillian got up, resigned to wearing the same clothing she’d worn yesterday. She hadn’t wanted to go home and potentially lead the mountain lion there, so she didn’t have a change—and she was four inches taller than Teri and noticeably more curved, so she wasn’t going to be able to borrow anything.

She’d called her parents the previous night to let them know she wouldn’t be home. She’d spoken calmly and simply, declined to say why, and hung up. Teri had watched her with envy.

“I didn’t realize you knew how to do that,” she’d said. “It took me forever to learn how to stop getting all defensive and justifying myself. Why don’t you do it more often?”

Lillian had just shrugged, not wanting a repeat of the argument about why she was still living at home, and gone up to bed.

Now, it was morning. A quiet morning, despite the number of people in the house. Lillian washed up, dressed in yesterday’s clothes with only a little wince—fortunately, she always carried deodorant in her purse—and came downstairs.

Zach was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. It was such an odd sight, to see a man in the kitchen, as though flipping pancakes, humming to himself, still barefoot, was just an ordinary thing to do in the morning, that Lillian almost stopped and stared.

She recovered herself before he noticed, though, and said, “Good morning. Can I do anything to help?”

He turned, with what she’d already realized was his characteristic broad smile. “Nope. Just take a seat. You’re welcome to coffee or juice or anything.” He indicated the counters with a broad sweep of his hand.

Lillian had to admire Teri’s taste. Zach was a cheerful, personable, good-looking man...who made breakfast. Young, of course—though she didn’t know when she’d started looking at the mid-twenties as practically babyhood. But for all his youth, he seemed serious and responsible, and she was glad for Teri.

Another head poked into the kitchen, this one belonging to Teri’s sister-in-law, Nina. Lillian had met her briefly the night before, and learned that she was quiet, a bit shy, but had a hidden fierceness that had come out when she’d told Lillian privately that no matter what happened, the leopards in the house were ready for anything, and Lillian didn’t need to worry.

Lillian had been hopelessly charmed. Nina was even younger than Teri, and a beautiful girl—also one of the only African-American women Lillian had ever seen settle up here in northern Montana—and Lillian wished a little wistfully that she could have the opportunity to get to know her better.

Maybe. Maybe if this all got settled, Lillian could work out a way to keep seeing Teri, and Teri’s new family, without disrupting her home too much. Perhaps she could invent some kind of library event once a week, or pretend that the work schedules had changed and she was working two evenings instead of one, and come visit for dinner without their mother knowing.

If she’d be welcome. She hoped so.

“Please sit down.” Lillian smiled at Nina. “Do you want some coffee?”

Nina nodded fervently. “Coffee would be lovely, thank you. We were up in shifts.”

Lillian paused, halfway to the cupboard where she’d learned the mugs were stored. “You didn’t sleep? Just because of me?” Behind her, Teri tripped into the kitchen, her blonde curls in their usual morning frizz, rubbing her eyes. Lillian turned on her. “Teri, did you keep this poor girl from getting any sleep just because of my silly problem?”

Teri’s eyes flew wide, and she held up her hands. “Whoa, wait! Everyone volunteered. And agreed. Nothing is my fault!”

Nina broke in, nodding vigorously. “We want to keep you safe. No one should have to deal with that. And it’s—it’s bad for shifters, when some of them behave like that. It makes it hard for the others, because it means humans are afraid of them, or it means that there are fewer good packs out there to join.”

There was a wealth of sadness—bitterness?—in Nina’s voice. Lillian wondered what her story was. All she’d said when Lillian had mentioned she’d never seen her around before was that she’d come in from out of town.

“I just don’t want any of you inconveniencing yourselves for what’s probably nothing,” Lillian insisted. “Don’t lose sleep on my account.”

“We’ll lose as much sleep as we choose,” Teri said, going for the coffee. Then she softened the words with a smile. “It’s worth it to me. I want you to be safe.”

Seeing protectiveness from her younger sister was very, very strange, Lillian decided as she sat back down and sipped her coffee.

Being hosted by her was even more strange—Teri went to set the table and help Zach finish cooking, and they all sat down to breakfast together. It was a pleasant meal, though mostly quiet.

Lillian had gotten used to her mother’s litany of complaints every morning over breakfast. It was shocking how restful it was to go without them.

She insisted on cleaning up afterward, as everyone else had to go to work. Lillian had called in sick.

“Am I coming to the Park with you, then?” she asked Teri.

Teri shook her head. “Cal said he was going to stop by this morning. He learned a few things last night, apparently, and he wanted to tell you about them. I don’t know when, though.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Now, I guess,” Zach said, and went to answer; the bass rumble of Cal Westland’s voice drifted down the hall.

Lillian came forward to say hello, and found herself startled at how much room the man took up. She’d thought she had a sense of how tall and broad he was when he’d been seated at his desk yesterday, but really she’d had no idea. He was well over six feet, and his shoulders seemed endless.

Lillian wasn’t a small woman, in height or in weight, and she’d gotten used to feeling a bit large and ungainly around most men. But Cal made her feel positively petite.

“Thank you for taking time out of your day.” She was annoyed to hear her voice come out just a tad breathless. The man was doing her a favor, and probably missing some work because of it. There was no need to get all girlish over him as an additional burden.

“No problem.” He glanced around at what suddenly seemed like a crowd of people. “Looks like some people are about to be late for work.”

There was a sudden scramble to decamp. Even Nina, who from what Lillian understood didn’t work in the Park, got sucked along in the whirlwind, leaving alongside Joel.

Teri grabbed her hand. “Cal can drive you to the Park later if that’s what he thinks is best. Keep me updated!”

“Of course,” Lillian managed.

And then even Teri was gone, and it was just Lillian and Cal, standing in the entryway to Teri’s home.

“That’s quite an impressive skill you have,” Lillian said mildly. “They really hop to it.”

Cal shrugged, but his expression was warm. “They’re all eager to do well. Good kids.”

Lillian appreciated the confirmation of her perspective on how young all of Teri’s friends were. “Why don’t you come sit down?”

“Thanks.” Cal moved past her toward the living room she’d indicated. Lillian was struck by a sudden awareness of the closeness of his body. His scent, woodsy and masculine, filled her nose and made her flush.

“Would you like some coffee?” There was that breathlessness again, damn it. “There’s a cup or two left.”

“Sure,” he said, sounding surprised. She went to refill her own cup and pour one for him.

She’d fallen automatically into hostessing, she realized, even though this wasn’t her house. Well, no one who lived here was present, and it wasn’t presumptuous to offer the man a cup of coffee, especially if it’d go to waste otherwise.

And she needed to be doing something.

She brought it to him—he’d waited to sit down until she got back, and in fact he waited even longer, until she’d taken her own seat on the couch. Old-fashioned politeness, she thought, faintly charmed.

Cal took a long drink of coffee, sighed in what looked like pleasure, and set the cup down on a coaster. He leaned forward. “Lillian,” he started.

Hearing her name in that low rumble of voice gave her such a jolt. He’d only said it a couple of times, and every time it seemed to hit her right in the chest.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem like he’d noticed. “This is a little awkward,” he was saying. “I apologize for prying into your business like this. But do you have an ex-husband?”

That was a real shock. After a frozen moment, Lillian set her own cup down, untouched, to keep it from betraying any nervousness in her hands.

“Yes, I do,” she said, as steadily as she could manage. “Lewis Jacobs. Is he involved in this somehow?”

But she knew the answer before Cal even opened his mouth to speak.

“Wayne Hennessey is the man who was following you,” he said, “and he claims that Mr. Jacobs owes him something, and he’s looking to collect.”

Lillian stood abruptly—Cal immediately stood as well—and strode over to the window. She stared out of it, not seeing anything, while she tried to compose her face.

Of course. Of course. What else could it possibly have been?

“Are you all right?” came that rumbling low voice from behind her. She shivered. Was he close? It felt like he was close.

She had the most absurd desire to turn around, press her face into his shoulder, and start to cry. As though that ever helped anything. As though anything could help this, apart from her own hard work and sacrifice.

“My ex-husband had a gambling problem,” she said steadily without turning around. “Has, I suppose. I never knew how extensive it was while we were married. Silly of me. I should’ve realized he was always lying about how much he lost.”

“Not a sin to trust your husband,” Cal said quietly.

“No, but in my case it was naïve at the very least.” Lillian couldn’t stand facing away like a coward any longer, so she turned to look at Cal.

He had the most compassionate expression. She wouldn’t have thought—his features were on the rugged side, and he’d been very composed, if friendly, when they met. But now...

“When we divorced, the courts ruled that I was responsible for half his debt,” she continued, feeling her face flush and wishing she could control it. “Even half of it was an immense amount of money. Far more than I could repay. I’ve been paying every month since, and I’ll be paying for a long time to come. And now there’s more, apparently.”

Although he’d likely done all of this gambling since the divorce. She shuddered to think of how much more money he might’ve lost in the last two years.

Cal turned away. Lillian frowned, taking a step forward. Was he—angry? Disappointed in the situation, in her?

Then she noticed that Cal’s fists were clenched.

“I used to be in the Marines,” Cal said in a tight, even voice. Lillian wondered at the non sequitur, but he continued: “So I know a lot of bad language. A lot of words I wouldn’t use in front of a lady. But I don’t know any words bad enough to describe a man who’d rack up gambling debts and ruin his wife’s life making her pay them off.”

Lillian opened her mouth. Then she closed it.

She’d been about to disclaim. To say, Oh, it wasn’t that bad. My life is just fine.

But that would be a lie. And she found that she didn’t want to lie to this man.

“Being angry with Lew doesn’t solve anything,” was what she finally came up with.

“No,” Cal said, slow and thoughtful, “but it sure is satisfying right now.” He turned around and caught Lillian’s mouth quirking up. “Does that help you? I can be angry as all get-out at that man for you. If it cheers you up, I’ll stay angry with him for a long, long time.”

It was such a sweetly ridiculous offer, coming from this serious man, that she almost laughed. “You’ve helped plenty already, discovering what’s up,” she assured him. “I guess I’ll just—call Lew and talk to him about it.”

That sobered her up fast. Lew was going to deny everything. He was going to whine that it wasn’t his fault. He was going to use the conversation to try and convince her to take care of it all for him. She could hear him now. “I’m in real danger from these guys, Lil! Can you front me something to pay them off for now, and I’ll get it back to you when I win big?”

Lew was never going to win big.

“Hey,” Cal said softly, and she started. “Where did you just go?”

The question was quiet but serious. Like he truly cared about what was going on in her frazzled mind.

She shook her head, trying to shake off her own—what, girlish infatuation?—at the same time. “Nowhere. Thank you very much for your help, I truly appreciate it. Now that I know what the problem is, I’m sure I can figure something out.”

There. That was the appropriately adult response. No hint of a plea to stay and keep his large, reassuring, masculine-smelling self by her side until this was over. Because frankly, between her whiny ex and her overbearing mother, there was no way that would turn out well.

But Cal frowned. “I don’t want to say you don’t know what you’re doing, because I can tell you’re a capable woman—”

Can you? How?

“—but the Hennesseys and their crowd are dangerous, Lillian. If they’re after you, I’d be more comfortable if you let us help you out.”

So would Lillian, to be perfectly honest. But, “I can’t impose to that extent. From what you and Teri have said, it’s going to be like trying to ride herd on some kind of—of outlaw gang or something.” She shook her head. “That sounds like a bad Western. But they’re clearly not going to listen to reason, is my point.”

“Then we give them something else to listen to.” Cal’s voice was serious.

Lillian stared at him. She wasn’t used to this. She was used to people who complained about their problems, who ducked out of responsibility, who tried to put everything on her. Who ran away when the going got tough.

This man was looking her in the face with those cool, iron-gray eyes and telling her, I’m stepping up and taking responsibility for this.

“You shouldn’t put yourself in any danger,” she said. “None of this is your fault.”

“None of this is your fault, either,” Cal pointed out. “You didn’t gamble, or borrow any money, or do anything wrong.”

“I married Lew.” Bitterness seeped out through her voice.

“Why?”

The question took her off guard. Strangely, it seemed to have taken Cal off-guard too: he was already backpedaling hastily.

“I apologize. That’s truly none of my business.” The faintest hint of pink colored his neck.

This big, strong man was blushing. Lillian found it...terribly endearing.

“I was young,” she said impulsively. “I was in college, living at home, and I desperately wanted to get away. Lew was another student, and he seemed like something miles away from the...squalid minutiae of living at home.”

She tried a smile, and it sort of worked. “Of course now I know that the minutiae are what make up everyone’s life, and looking down on them is a one-way ticket to being dissatisfied. But then, I was just struck by how much of a dreamer he was, the sort of things he said in class. He loved philosophy, art, and literature, and I wanted to be a librarian, so I thought it was a match made in heaven.”

She laughed without any humor. “I didn’t quite make the connection that being a dreamer didn’t translate into having any practical skills. All Lew ever wanted to talk about was big ideas. He’d forget to do the dishes. He’d quit a good job because he thought it was boring. He thought it was stupid that I cared about things like making money and having a clean house and dinner on the table every night—he had these dumb romantic ideas of, of living in a garret in Paris and subsisting entirely on absinthe and Great Art.”

Cal laughed softly.

Lillian looked at him. His eyes were crinkled at the corners. Suddenly their color didn’t seem so darkly iron-gray—there was a hint of silver in them that she hadn’t noticed before.

“I don’t mean to make fun of you,” he said. “It sounds like a nightmare to me, frankly. But the way you described him—I can picture him no problem. I can see how you must have felt, living with someone like that. Please keep going.”

Lillian waved a hand. “Well, there’s not much more to tell. We started fighting, and then fighting more, because I was both the breadwinner and the housekeeper and I resented it, but he thought I was getting all worked up over nothing. And believe me,” she could hear the emotion starting to come out in her voice, “there is nothing more frustrating than having your spouse tell you, over and over, that they don’t care that you’re unhappy.” She shook her head, feeling the echoes of remembered pain, then took a deep breath and continued.

“But he could never see it that way. He thought that he could just...convince me that I was being wrongheaded, and that his way was the best way. And then we’d eat air for dinner every night, I suppose.”

“Or absinthe and Great Art.” Cal’s voice was wry, and he was looking at her with such...intense compassion that she had to look away.

So she smiled humorlessly at the front window and said, “Oh, no. That was the other thing. First we had to move to New York or Paris or Berlin. Someday. And then we could start that chapter of our lives. Where he thought we’d get the money to do that, I have no idea.” She paused. “Well, I suppose now I do.”

“The gambling,” Cal said softly.

Lillian nodded. “It’s so easy to see what he thought would happen. He’d win big, come home one night and surprise me—’Honey, we’re moving to Paris!’ And then we’d live a life of leisure, I suppose. Without considering that no matter how much money he won, I’m sure he’d run through it like water, because that was just the kind of man he was. Anyway, that’s how he excused going along with the judge’s ruling about splitting the debt. It was all for me, you see.”

“Even though you didn’t know about it and would’ve told him not to do it if you had,” Cal finished.

Lillian nodded. “So there you go. The whole silly, sordid story. If I’d left him the first time he told me washing the dishes didn’t matter, everything could’ve been prevented.”

“If he’d realized something was wrong and maybe learned that even in Paris, dishes still need to be washed, then everything could’ve been prevented,” Cal said with a hint of ferocity that surprised her. “From my perspective, all of the ifs should be on his side. You married a college student with his head in the clouds—well, there’s plenty of those out there. The question is, when do they realize they’re not in philosophy class anymore and grow up.”

He’d taken a step or two forward, so he was standing right next to her, as though ready to take her arm, offer his help. It felt strange to be so—so supported like this. Lillian wasn’t used to having someone so staunchly on her side.

Her mother had berated her for being so foolish as to marry a man who would leave her in debt, her father had declined to comment, and she’d left Teri out of the loop as much as possible, not wanting her baby sister to learn what an idiot she was. Her college friends had all moved on, and Lillian kept a professional face on at the library, not wanting to be the subject of gossip at work.

But it had made the divorce the loneliest thing she’d ever done. And she’d accepted that all of the struggle and pain would be hers alone, forever, because it seemed best to keep it inside—to protect herself.

But Cal was right here, towering over her and looking like he wanted to protect her.

“Well,” she said briskly, not sure how comfortable she was with the feelings that Cal’s warm, fierce gaze was giving her, “all the ifs in the world aren’t going to help anything now. Lew has kept gambling, and it’s still a problem.”

“But it shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Cal insisted. “The man’s caused you more than enough problems, and he should’ve figured that out by now.” A long pause. “Maybe someone should tell him that.”

Lillian was certain, suddenly, of what Cal was thinking. That ferocity was still there, and his eyes—much more silvery now, it must be the light—had darted toward the door.

“Do not go threaten him or rough him up.” Lillian countered his intentions before he could get more specific. “He’ll weave it into some story about how he’s the victim and he needs my help more than ever. And he’ll likely call the police on you.”

She surprised herself with the severity of the tone. Maybe it was ridiculous—looking up at this powerful ex-Marine, telling him what he could and couldn’t do on her behalf.

But Cal was nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” A quirk of a smile, as the ferocity faded into the background. “As satisfying as I might find it, right about now.”

“Believe me,” Lillian said dryly, “so would I. But it won’t work, and it’ll likely get you in trouble.”

“I’d risk trouble, but not if it didn’t help you out.” Cal shook his head. “That’d just be dumb. All right. We’ll find another solution.”

That was another novelty: she’d objected, and Cal had listened to her. She wasn’t looking at half an hour of arguing her point, followed by the likelihood of him doing it anyway.

Which was something she’d thought she’d left behind when she divorced Lew...only to move back home so she could repay her debt and remember that her mother was exactly the same way.

But Cal was just—respecting that she knew Lew better than he did, and accepting that with, We’ll find another solution.

Then she really heard what he’d said. “Wait,” she objected. “We don’t need to find anything. I really don’t want to take you away from your job any further, or get you in trouble with the local shifter community, or get you caught up in anything illegal. That’s absolutely not fair to you.”

“None of this is fair, Lillian. And I’m more interested in how unfair it is to you. Besides,” Cal said slowly, “one of the reasons the Glacier area is such a haven for shifters is that everyone respects one another and pretty much minds their own business. I told Wayne Hennessey in so many words that you were part of our community, and he straight-up ignored me, just threatened worse.”

“He threatened you?” That was it. Lillian wasn’t going to be party to bringing down violence on an innocent man like this. She was going to work this out on her own, whatever it took—

“No, Lillian.” Cal’s face was serious again. “He threatened you.”

That brought her up short. “...Oh.”

Cal moved closer. Lillian restrained herself from leaning into him. She could feel his body heat, though, and it was somehow reassuring.

“The police don’t like getting involved in shifter business,” he was saying. “The locals know we exist, of course—hard to live in this town and stay ignorant—but there’s no protocol for handling us and they’d rather stay away. So it’s more than likely that in a case like this, with no hard evidence of anything, they’d just do some cursory questioning, keep their noses out of it, and make everything worse.”

He looked her in the eye. “Which means that it’s up to us, the shifter community itself, to police behavior like this. Threatening an innocent woman because of a debt she didn’t incur? That’s unacceptable. I won’t allow it.”

Lillian had another flash to that imaginary Western, and Cal as the local sheriff, saying, Not in my town.

It should’ve been silly. But somehow, it wasn’t at all. That firm conviction, in that deep voice, standing so close to her and saying he wouldn’t allow her to be hurt...she had to work hard to control that breathlessness again.

“All right,” she agreed finally. “We’ll work together.”

Cal nodded. “Good. I want to keep the kids out of it as much as possible.”

Meaning Teri and her crowd. “I agree.” She wasn’t drawing anyone else into this mess, that was for sure.

She looked around. “That probably means I should get out of Teri’s house. Scratch that, that definitely means I should get out of Teri’s house. But...I can’t go home. I live with my parents.” Saying that brought a blush to her face, because she was well into her thirties and it was embarrassing. But—well, it was true.

And Cal just nodded. “Smart. Faster to pay down your debt that way.”

“Yes. And I’m well on my way,” she added, and then clamped down on that line of speech. What, did she want to dazzle this man by chirping, I’ve paid off forty thousand dollars of debt in the last two years with my good job and my thrifty ways! No.

But now Cal was shaking his head. “You impress me, you know?”

Lillian frowned. “I’ve just told you all of the ways my silly choices got me in trouble.”

He looked at her. “No. That’s not what you’ve told me. You’ve told me how being young and in love got you into a terrible situation, and how you’ve picked yourself up, taken on ownership of problems that rightly shouldn’t have been yours, and stepped on forward with your life. Can’t be easy, living at home. Especially—” He stopped.

Lillian frowned. “No, go on. Especially?” She had a suspicion of how that sentence ended.

Cal looked embarrassed. “Couldn’t help overhearing a thing or two about Teri’s situation, is all. Seems like she had it kind of difficult at home. Can’t imagine it’s any easier for you, and you’re sticking it out.”

Lillian was strangely tempted to open up, to give Cal a whole long litany of the problems with life with her mother. The way she put Lillian down. The way she didn’t listen to a thing Lillian said. The way she required all the attention to be on her all of the time. Et cetera, et cetera.

She put a firm hold on that. There was nothing less attractive than people who just complained about others all day, and she’d just spent a solid quarter-hour listing all of the bad qualities of her ex. She wasn’t going to top that by complaining about her mother. How embarrassing.

She decided on, “It’s been challenging. But I grew up the house, I know what to expect.”

“Doesn’t make it easier,” Cal murmured. “Sometimes that makes it harder.”

Lillian just shook her head, not wanting to get into it. Because she was afraid she might never stop. “No matter how challenging it is, I don’t want to bring any danger to my parents’ doorstep. But I don’t know where else I could stay. I suppose a hotel.” She was reluctant to commit to that because of the expense—due to her intense debt-payoff regimen, she never had very much spare cash.

“Not a hotel,” Cal said. “You should—” He stopped.

Lillian looked at him. He seemed almost surprised. At himself? At what he had been about to say? “I should what?”

“I was going to say, you should come stay with me,” Cal said, looking embarrassed. “I have a guest room. But I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He seemed to notice suddenly how close they were standing, and took a quick step back, as though to demonstrate the principle.

Lillian raised her eyebrows. She knew she shouldn’t agree, because the idea of putting the man to all of this trouble seemed wrong. But she was caught by his assumption. “Uncomfortable? We’re both adults. I was married, so you can assume I’ve stayed in the same house as a man overnight before. I’m no innocent maiden who’s going to gasp at the thought of being unchaperoned with a single gentleman.”

He smiled a little. “Right. I should’ve known. Well, then, Lillian: come stay with me tonight. I can handle any mountain lions that appear, and your family will be out of any danger. Meanwhile, we’ll work on figuring out a way to make them back off for good. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lillian agreed.

And maybe she shouldn’t have accepted, maybe she shouldn’t be letting Cal take on all this responsibility and inconvenience. But it was clear that he wanted to. That he felt it was his own problem to solve as well as hers.

And—she had to admit—it was such a relief to feel as though she was on a team. How long had it been? Maybe the early days with Lew, when they were still in college, and he’d made her feel like they could take over the world together.

At the time, she’d hadn’t realized that Lew was more serious than she was about that. That when it came down to it, they wanted different things—he wanted castles in the clouds, she wanted a clean house on the ground, with a hot meal for dinner.

And a change of clothes. Lillian said to Cal, “Do you think it would be too much of a risk to stop home to pack a bag? I’m afraid I’m wearing yesterday’s clothes already, and I hate to think what they’ll be like if I have to spend another night without any luggage.”

Not to mention a hairbrush and some makeup—Teri had given her a spare toothbrush last night and told her to make free with any of Teri’s own things, but some things just weren’t meant to be shared.

“I think we can take the risk,” Cal said. “After all, they likely already know where you live.”

“Very comforting, thank you,” Lillian said dryly.

Cal chuckled softly, but then he reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to keep you safe, Lillian.”

And the touch and the words went through her in a full-body shiver.

***

Cal’s leopard was growling continuously inside his chest.

Cal had to admit, he was tempted to join in. He had been ever since Lillian had explained how her worthless husband had put her in danger.

Not to mention ruining her to the point that she’d been forced to move back in with her parents.

Cal couldn’t imagine it. How could a man not only be stupid enough to lose that much money gambling—Cal didn’t understand that, full stop, but he knew that people did it; that the allure of the barely-possible beat out the consequences of the present—

But to lose that much money and somehow see no problem with making his wife pay it back? A woman he supposedly loved?

It was loathsome. A man who could do that must have no conscience at all. No empathy, either—other people must not even be real to him. Because if his own wife wasn’t real enough for him to understand what he was doing to her, Cal couldn’t imagine what other people were like to him.

Had he known was he was doing even back when they’d gotten together? Had that wide-eyed college student thought, Hey, here’s a woman who’ll support me for as long as it takes. A good woman who’ll work hard and care for me, no matter what. I’d better tie her to me for good.

Or had he genuinely believed that he loved her, and that they’d walk out into his impossible future together?

Cal decided that it didn’t matter. Whether he’d started out that way or not, Lewis Jacobs was a detestable user, and Cal was going to make sure he paid for it somehow.

And meanwhile, he was going to do his best to get that little worried frown off of Lillian Lowell’s face.

It was barely there, because she was so good at appearing composed, but he’d started noticing it. It lived right between her elegant eyebrows, just the tiniest wrinkle of concern, and it appeared every time she relaxed even the smallest amount.

That made Cal suspect that it was always there, even if it wasn’t visible. He wanted to make it disappear for real.

He doubted he could make it happen right now, though. They were in Lillian’s car, and she was driving to her parents’ house. Cal had decided to leave his own car at Teri’s place and ride with Lillian—he didn’t want her alone until all of this business had been sorted out, and he had a feeling she’d feel better if she were in her own car, driving, than if he just decided to take charge willy-nilly and start driving her around.

Besides, this way if one of the mountain lions showed up, Cal could easily get out, shift, and take care of him while Lillian drove herself to safety.

But as they got closer and closer to Lillian’s home, the little worry line grew more and more pronounced.

“Everything okay?” Cal asked finally, when he noticed Lillian’s knuckled going white on the steering wheel.

Kind of a stupid question, of course: no, everything was not okay, and Cal knew it. But he thought the sense of it would make it across.

And sure enough, Lillian shook her head. Her lips tightened. “Can you tell if the mountain lions have been around?” she asked abruptly. “I mean, can you...sense them, or smell them, if they’ve been somewhere?”

“Sure.” It was suddenly clear what Lillian was worried about. “It’s much easier if I’m shifted, but I can get a hint even in human form. You want me to see if they’ve been sniffing around your parents’ place?”

Lillian nodded sharply. “Yes. But that means you’re going to have to get out of the car, and my mother’s going to see you, even if you don’t come inside.”

“I’m happy to come inside.” Cal was pretty sure that wasn’t the point Lillian was getting at, but he wanted to make it all the same.

“It doesn’t matter whether you do or not,” Lillian said, “my mother’s going to insist on talking to you. And she isn’t going to be nice.”

Cal laughed. Was that all? “Lillian, I work at a national park. I’m the authority people go to when they’re not happy with what the regular staff are telling them. Believe you me, I’ve dealt with plenty of people who weren’t very nice. And that’s without even counting being back in Iraq. Compared to that, people not being very nice to me is a cakewalk.”

Lillian was quiet for a second, and then she said, “You know, I don’t know that anyone’s ever compared my mother to an Iraqi insurgent before.”

“I can bet she takes at least as much planning before engagement,” Cal said.

Lillian laughed, a short humorless burst. “I’m sure she does, honestly. But—Cal, this is my mother. It’s not the same as an angry tourist.”

“Why isn’t it the same?” He’d encountered some entitled mothers traveling with their families before, that was for sure.

She said, so low it would’ve been difficult for a non-shifter to hear her, “I don’t want her behavior to affect your opinion of me.”

Hearing that Lillian cared so much about his opinion gave Cal a surprisingly warm thrill. His leopard’s continuous growl even softened, mellowing into a purr.

Cal didn’t know why this woman suddenly meant so much to him, but he suspected it had to do with how impressive she was. He had immense respect for everything she’d been through, and particularly that she’d survived it with her head held high, retaining her pride—and her confidence in herself. The way she’d insisted she could handle all of this without help...Cal supposed she’d gotten used to not being able to lean on anyone else. She probably thought the whole world was unreliable.

And he was determined to prove that wrong.

“No matter what she says or does,” Cal said, hearing the fierce conviction in his own voice, “it’s not gonna affect my opinion of you. I swear.”

Lillian looked over at him, a quick, flickering glance. Like she wasn’t sure she believed what she’d heard, and had to check to make sure. Cal looked back steadily.

Lillian was going to come out of this knowing that someone respected her, and believed she deserved better than what she’d gotten.

“She’ll treat me like a child,” Lillian said carefully, as though testing the truth of what he’d said.

“A woman who treats her adult daughter like a child is showing how little she knows, not how little you know,” Cal said. “I promise, Lillian. If she behaves badly, that reflects badly on her. Not on you.”

Lillian breathed in and out, and Cal could see the shakiness of it in the slightest shiver of her shoulders.

She was full of contradictions, he thought. So strong, proud, and confident—and yet there was this vulnerability hiding under the surface. So solidly practical and capable—and yet, from what she’d said about her ex, she’d been carried away by beauty, philosophy, and literature.

Most of what Cal had seen so far had been the outside layer of strength and practicality. He admired the hell out of it. But he also wanted to know what lay underneath.

Did Lillian show it to anyone, after her asshole ex had trampled all over it? Cal suspected not.

Show it to us, his leopard purred. She can show us all of herself. We’ll wrap it up, protect it, treasure it.

Cal reminded himself, and his presumptuous-as-hell leopard, that there was no guarantee Lillian would want to open up to him like that. And if she didn’t, well, he’d have to take himself on his way without getting what he wanted.

Because if there was one thing he did know, it was that this woman had had enough of people taking what they wanted from her.

They pulled up in front of a good-sized house in a nice part of town, and Lillian turned off the car. She took a slow, deep breath and turned to Cal. “Ready?”

“I promise you, Lillian,” Cal said, looking her right in the eye, “this isn’t going to cause a problem between us.”

She looked a little steadier at that. Or Cal flattered himself that she did, anyway.

The door to the house was already open, and an older woman was coming out the door. Cal could see her resemblance to both the sisters, but the lines on her face weren’t like those that were faintly starting to appear on Lillian’s. They were frown lines, lines of her forehead scrunching together and her eyes narrowing. This woman looked like her face naturally fell into an expression of judgment and dissatisfaction.

Right now, she was zeroing in on Lillian, as she came down the walk to meet her. Lillian was stepping out of the driver’s side with a resigned expression.

Cal got out of the car, came smoothly around to stand at Lillian’s side, and held out his hand as she approached. “Good morning, ma’am. My name is Cal Westland, and I’m a ranger over at Glacier National Park.”

Whatever diatribe the woman had been about to aim at Lillian fizzled and died as her attention redirected sharply to Cal.

“A park ranger?” she said. “What’s a park ranger doing here? And what do you have to do with the fact that my daughter didn’t come home last night?”

Lillian had been right. She was speaking as though “her daughter” was fifteen, not in her mid-thirties.

“I called you and let you know, Mom, remember?” Lillian intervened. “There’s been a problem and I’m going to be away for a couple of days. How about we go inside and we can talk about it.”

Mrs. Lowell’s eyes narrowed, but she allowed it. Cal noted that Lillian hadn’t actually promised to explain anything, only to talk about it—which was likely unavoidable anyway.

He had a feeling she was very, very used to playing these kinds of verbal games with her mother.

Inside, Lillian’s father was nowhere in sight. Mrs. Lowell turned on them immediately. “Now. Tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s been a problem with Lew, Mom,” Lillian said. “He needs some help. I have to leave for a couple of days while it gets sorted out.”

She kept moving as she spoke, heading for the stairs. Mrs. Lowell hurried up after her, with Cal following behind, again impressed at how Lillian, without ever lying, managed to sound like she was explaining the situation without giving up any real information.

“A problem with Lew?” Mrs. Lowell pressed. “What sort of problem? Why does he see the need to intrude on your life after two years? How many more problems can he even have to cause? And why on earth do you have to leave to take care of it?”

“It’ll just be easier, Mother,” Lillian said in a calm, patient tone. She’d opened a door into a simply-furnished room, unearthed an overnight bag from a closet, and begun to pack it. Cal politely turned his back; he doubted any woman wanted a man she’d just met watching her take out her underthings and personal items.

“Easier?” Mrs. Lowell repeated. “To deal with this problem without your family alongside you? Nonsense. Tell me what happened, and we’ll address it together.”

“I don’t want to get you involved, Mom.” Cal could see out of the corner of his eye that Lillian was packing with quick, efficient movements.

“I’m already involved, I’m your mother,” said Mrs. Lowell. Then she frowned suddenly, and her attention transferred from Lillian to Cal. “And who is this? Why does a park ranger have to be involved? Has Lew somehow caused some problems out in the wilderness?”

“He’s just helping me out, Mom,” Lillian said.

She was obviously so very, very practiced at this. Her voice was pleasant but bland. Her expression, when Cal had been looking at it, had been absolutely composed. She moved purposefully but without too much haste, so it was clear she was occupied but not that she was determined to get in and out of this house as quickly as she possibly could.

It was a masterful performance. And it made Cal’s chest ache. To have to keep up a face like this in your own home...to know that if you showed weakness, it would be pounced on, and if you put up a boundary, it would be trampled over. To maintain a constant performance just to be able to go about your life, and knowing that you would be imposed upon no matter what...

“I thought you were going to stop using that face cream,” Mrs. Lowell interrupted the argument abruptly. She snatched it out of Lillian’s hand. “That’s the kind I read the article about. It’s supposed to be bad for your skin, remember? You never remember the things I tell you, I keep saying you should see the doctor about your memory.”

Lillian said, “I’m sorry, Mom, I forgot. I’ll buy a different brand next time.”

It was funny. On the outside, that was the sentence of someone who was cowed, who obeyed her mother in all things. But Cal knew, because he was here at all, that Lillian didn’t. She was prioritizing. The face cream didn’t matter when put next to the larger matter at hand.

But it still meant that she was smiling and apologizing while her mother grabbed her things and accused her of being mentally deficient.

It took a strength Cal could barely envision. At least when you were overseas, you got to acknowledge to everyone else that it was awful. Here, Lillian had to smile and pretend that everything was just fine, even though she was deep in enemy territory, that much was clear. Undercover in her own life.

Help her, his leopard growled.

He would. Somehow, he was going to solve this problem in a way that freed Lillian from this—this repression of herself.

“So why are you here?” Mrs. Lowell looked at Cal with a clear-eyed hostility that said she didn’t appreciate this threat to her absolute control of her daughter.

“Just helping out, ma’am,” he said blandly.

As much as he would’ve liked to give her a piece of his mind, it seemed best to follow Lillian’s lead for the moment: politely vague and unhelpful. After all, they did have a bigger problem at hand.

But Cal had marked her: her days as a petty dictator were numbered.

“Lillian,” Mrs. Lowell said in a steely tone, without taking her eyes off of Cal, “That monster who kidnapped Teri is a park ranger, isn’t he?”

She said it so utterly matter-of-factly that it took a moment for Cal to really hear her.

He knew that Teri’s mother had called the police on Zach after Teri had moved out of this house and in with him. He’d heard thirdhand from Grey, another one of his rangers, that there had been something of an embarrassing scene where Teri had had to explain to the officers that no, she hadn’t been kidnapped, she was living with Zach of her own free will and her mother was simply overprotective.

Mrs. Lowell had pulled something similar when Teri had come to the Park last spring while in the last stages of recovery from a car accident, and Cal had been peripherally involved, and heard a similar embarrassed explanation.

It looked like Mrs. Lowell had told everyone a story where the shifters had kidnapped her daughter against her will. Maybe she’d even started to believe it herself. And now she was suspicious of Cal.

“Teri’s fine, Mom,” Lillian said, hefting her bag over her shoulder.

That set her mother off. Cal wondered if it had been calculated to do so, because while Mrs. Lowell went off on a rant about how her younger daughter was absolutely not fine, and the shifters had stolen her away and turned her into an awful monster and et cetera, Lillian started down the hall toward the stairs.

Cal followed. It certainly was a good distraction against any further interrogation about him and what he was doing there.

Although he wasn’t sure he liked the idea that Lillian might be protecting him from her mother’s questioning. Because more and more, he was starting to feel as though someone should be protecting her. Since her parents obviously never had.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Lillian let her mother grandly go take up a position in the living room, ready to rant some more, while she leaned in to say to Cal, “Can you step outside and check to see if the mountain lions have been around? I’ll be out in a minute.”

Cal hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you here like this.”

Lillian gave him an exasperated look. “Cal. I live here. Please.”

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t mean you should have to put up with it for one more minute,” Cal said, in a fierce undertone. “But all right. One minute.”

Lillian’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smile. “Starting now.”

Cal automatically began counting in his head as he headed for the door, to the echoes of, “What were you just saying to him? Where is he going?” from the living room.

Lillian said calmly, “Just telling him to leave, Mom, it’s clear he’s not welcome here,” and Cal had to shake his head again at how good she was at deflecting the subject.

He stepped outside into the warm sun, took a second to take a deep and quiet breath, and then ducked around the side of the house and shifted.

By the time Lillian came out—fifty-nine seconds later—he was human again and waiting by the car.

“They’ve been here,” he said to her. “But not for a day or two; the scent’s old. I’d say that staying away is the right thing to do. It looks like they haven’t bothered to keep an eye on the place while you’ve been gone. There was no trace of them inside the house—in an enclosed space like that, I would’ve been able to catch some kind of hint even in human form.”

Lillian nodded. “Good.” She tossed her bag in the backseat and got in the car just as the door to the house opened again. Cal took his place in the passenger’s seat and they drove off, leaving Mrs. Lowell silhouetted furiously in the doorway.

***

Lillian was so embarrassed. She wished she could’ve had Cal stay in the car. But he’d had to come out to see if the mountain lions were watching the house, and there was no way her mother would’ve allowed him to just hang out on the lawn. She would’ve come outside to interrogate him about what he was doing there.

So the best thing to do had been to bring him inside, let her mother get angry and want him back outside, and then send him out to shift very discreetly and do his sniffing around. Besides, she really had wanted to know if somehow the mountain lions had come in, so Cal had had to be in the house to see if he could scent them there.

Her parents made her crazy, but that didn’t mean she wanted them to be in danger.

But it meant that Cal had witnessed her mother in full form...and Lillian just bowing her head and accepting it.

She was ashamed, sometimes, of how she acted at home. The way she folded up any backbone she might’ve ever possessed and meekly nodded her head to her mother’s dictates. Said, All right, and That sounds best, and Of course.

But normally it was a private shame. It was something she was doing so that she could put her life back together—although she’d probably be in her late thirties by the time she managed it, and any dreams of a better marriage and maybe even children out the window by then. But still. She was working quietly to get her freedom back.

This was the first time anyone outside the family had witnessed it. And it made her just want to hide her face forever.

Especially considering who Cal was. A Marine veteran, an experienced park ranger, and a shapeshifter. A snow leopard. A fierce wild cat.

Whereas Lillian was more like a scared mouse.

Cal broke the silence in the car suddenly, his deep voice seeming to spread through the space and...warm it up somehow. “I don’t know how much you know about snow leopards.”

It wasn’t what Lillian had been expecting to hear. She glanced over; Cal was looking casually out the window. “A bit,” she said cautiously. “I’ve done some reading, since Teri was changed. We have a few books on big cats in the library.”

“One of the snow leopard’s biggest weapons is camouflage,” Cal said quietly.

Lillian perked up. “Oh, yes! I saw this on the Internet. There were pictures of rocky mountainsides, and you’d have to try to find the snow leopard in the picture. And I never could, it was impossible! Then they’d circle it for you on the website, and I’d finally see it, but really the snow leopard was so well camouflaged it might as well be invisible.”

Cal looked over at her, smiling a little bit. “You did do some research.”

Lillian shrugged, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. “Well, my sister just became one. And I’m a librarian, it’s my job.”

“No, I admire that. Most people just make assumptions about things, don’t take the time to look deeper. It’s a good trait.”

His warm approval seemed to wash over her. Lillian looked away. What was it about this man?

Maybe the fact that he’d ditched everything to help her out of a dangerous situation. That probably had something to do with it.

Although that didn’t explain why she found his face so compelling—his features weren’t classical handsome, rougher than the smooth lines of a Hollywood actor, but she felt like she could watch him forever.

He was talking again, and she shook herself out of her reverie. This wasn’t like her at all.

“Snow leopards are masters of camouflage. I’ve never been as good at it as some others—too big, not as good at darting around. But I still like to fly under the radar a bit. We all do. We’re not like stags or wolves or lions, making big displays all the time. Only if we absolutely have to.”

Lillian nodded, still not quite understanding where this was going, but willing to listen until it got there.

“All that’s just to show you that I mean what I say when I tell you how impressed I am at how you’re handling that situation at home.”

“Oh,” Lillian said faintly.

“Sometimes, you can’t make a big display,” Cal said. “Sometimes you’ve got to stay in a dangerous situation, and if you push a big confrontation, you’ll mess everything up. Sometimes if you fight, you’ll lose more than just the fight. And the person who can keep going under those circumstances, who can move forward day after day, keeping themselves inside and getting what they need slowly but surely—that person is strong. That person is someone to watch out for. Because they know how to win.”

“...Oh,” Lillian said again, and this time it was only the faintest breath of sound.

Never once had she thought of her situation in those terms. She wasn’t someone who knew how to win, was she? She was someone who was making the best of having lost big.

“It’s a hard thing to do,” Cal added. “It’s hard as hell, pardon my language. So I hope you get breaks from it. I hope you’ve got somewhere you can get away. And now that you’re part of our pack, you’ve got more help and a better escape, if you choose to use it.”

Lillian’s brain caught on one specific phrase in that. “Part of your pack?” she repeated.

Cal nodded slowly. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping. It’s up to you, of course. But your sister’s part of the pack, and you don’t need to be a shifter to be one of us. One of my best rangers, Jeff, has a mate and a stepdaughter who’re both human, and they belong with us just as much as anyone else.”

That—was too much. The whole idea was too much. Another family? Lillian part of Teri’s happy little community? It didn’t seem possible.

But Cal looked serious.

“I’ll—I’ll think about it,” she managed faintly.

Cal seemed to accept that. “No problem. Take your time. Nothing’s set in stone.”

The lack of pressure helped her relax a bit more. And then they were pulling back into Teri’s driveway, and the conversation ended.

Cal got out, and said, “You can follow me to my place. I’ll make sure you’re close behind. It gets a bit winding toward the end.”

Lillian promised to follow closely, and soon they pulled away again, heading...up into the mountains.

Lillian should’ve figured—he’d chosen to devote his life to the Park, so it made sense that he wanted to live out in the wilderness. But she was suddenly apprehensive about what his place was going to look like. A rickety cabin? No indoor plumbing? He seemed like the kind of man who wouldn’t mind living rough. Particularly considering he was a shifter.

But she was wrong. After following a winding mountain road for less time than she’d been anticipating, they pulled out into a wide clearing with a solid-looking little house. Not a cabin, a house. It didn’t seem rickety at all, and there was no sign of an outhouse.

Cal got out of his car and came up to hers; when she opened the back and got her back, he held out a hand, eyebrows up—not taking it, just offering to carry it.

Slowly, she handed it over. He smiled, his eyes crinkling. “Thanks.”

Thanking her for the opportunity to help her. It was so—strange.

He led her up to the house, unlocking the door and showing her in.

It was a beautiful, beautiful building. So much rich wood everywhere, an open-plan space with a nice-looking full kitchen, an area in front of the fireplace with a soft couch, and stairs leading up to a second floor.

“I’ve got a small guest room through there,” Cal said, pointing to a door at the far end. “I sleep upstairs, so you’ll have plenty of privacy. The bathroom’s right there.” Another small door.

He led her through to the guest room, which was very simply-appointed: a small bed, a little end table, a wooden chair.

“Sorry it’s not nicer,” Cal said quietly. “I’ve always lived here alone, I don’t know much about decorating or anything like that. Keep on meaning to figure out how to spruce the whole place up a little, get some pictures on the wall or something, but it never really happens.”

“It’s absolutely fine,” Lillian said, setting the bag down. “And it wouldn’t take much—the place is already beautiful. All of this wood!”

Cal nodded. “The building’s fantastic. Solidly built, excellent construction, it’ll last forever. And I like the look of it. There’s just no finishing touches, really.”

Lillian followed him back out to the main area and sent a practiced eye around. Typical for a man—the basics of furniture were all there, but there were no accents. “It’d be easy to make it look more finished,” she told him. “Some rugs, some throw pillows, a nice photograph or two on the walls...maybe some plants.”

Cal grinned. “Maybe I should hire you as my interior designer, then.”

Lillian laughed a little. “Oh, no. I’m just parroting Pinterest back at you, that’s all.”

“Well, I don’t even know what that is, so you’re definitely a step ahead of me,” he countered.

“It’s a pretty frivolous website,” Lillian admitted. “All décor and style and silly things. Not something I’d expect most men to care much about.”

“Hey,” Cal said. “Just because it’s a site for women doesn’t make it silly. I just said I wished I knew how to do all this stuff. Being a bachelor, it means you lose out on the sort of things women learn how to do. Having a decent-looking house isn’t a frivolous thing.”

“No, I suppose not,” Lillian said slowly. She wondered if that meant Cal...regretted being a bachelor. Was he looking for someone now?

No, that was reaching. He hadn’t said he wanted a relationship at all, just that he wished he knew some of the things women were educated in. That was practically the opposite of wanting a relationship. Besides, everything about this solid little house in the woods screamed self-sufficient anyway.

“So,” Cal said, interrupting her thoughts, “it’s getting to be around lunchtime. Are you hungry?”

Twenty minutes ago, Lillian could’ve sworn she was too tense to ever be hungry again, but now she suddenly found that she was ravenous. “Yes,” she said, surprised.

“Good,” he said with a smile. “I like to cook, but I hardly ever get anyone other than myself out here to do it for.”

See, Lillian told herself, he’s saying he doesn’t date. He’s happy to be single.

“So why don’t you go get yourself settled in, and I’ll put something together for lunch?”

Lillian caught up with what he was saying. “Wait,” she said. “I’m imposing on your hospitality enough already. You shouldn’t have to wait on me as well.”

“Absolutely not,” Cal said with conviction. “You’re a guest in my home. I’m not letting you cook for yourself. Anyway, I have to eat lunch, too, so I might as well make it for two.”

Well, she couldn’t really argue with that logic, although it felt unnatural to go off to the guest room while someone else cooked for her. At home, Lillian did most of the cooking, since neither of her parents were very good at it.

Which some people might have objected to, but Lillian found that she appreciated the half-hour or more she got alone in the kitchen; her mother usually took that time to watch TV, so it was a welcome break to spend by herself.

But now she got a break while someone else cooked for her. It was very strange.

Lillian took advantage of it, though; she spent a few minutes unpacking her things and putting them in the tiny closet in the guest room, and then just took a few deep breaths. Everything had happened so fast, and now she was in this man’s home, trusting him to protect her from danger.

But she did trust him. That was the strangest part. She felt absolutely confident in Cal’s sincerity, as well as his ability to keep her from getting hurt.

...and the way his eyes seemed to warm when he looked at her, as though there was a gleam of silver flame buried inside that deep, dark gray color...

Lillian had to admit it, at least to herself. She was attracted to Cal. He moved with a noticeable grace that belied his height and impressive build; it was like he knew what every muscle was doing at any moment, and they all worked together in a flowing efficiency that was impossible not to watch.

And the way his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes...

Plus, there was just so much about him that was attractive. He’d welcomed her sister into his—his pack. He’d given her a job at the Park. He clearly cared immensely about Glacier, and also about the people who worked under him there. He took care of himself; the careful severity of his haircut and the crisp creases in his uniform would probably have betrayed his military history even if he hadn’t mentioned it, and Lillian admired any man who took the time to put effort into his appearance.

And he was older than she was—and he was a man, not an overgrown boy. She hadn’t met many men since her divorce, but the ones who were still single at her age or above tended to be the ones who had never grown up, and so never wanted to settle down and take responsibility for their lives, get married and have children.

She wondered what had prevented Cal from doing so. It certainly wasn’t desirability.

Although she also had to wonder how much of this was her just comparing Cal to Lew and coming up with all opposites. Was she just happy to find someone as little like her ex-husband as possible?

And if she was, would it be a bad thing?

Besides, Cal wasn’t just a list of characteristics that equated to Not-Lew. He was a good, kind, thoughtful, strong man.

And a shifter.

Lillian took a final deep breath and went out into the kitchen—only to stop short at the sight of the countertops covered in food-prep. Her eyebrows went up. “This is more elaborate than I was expecting.”

Cal glanced over his shoulder and smiled, although it looked kind of...embarrassed? Yes, there was that slight pink flush creeping up his neck. Lillian was surprised to realize she recognized it already—and found it endearing as all get-out.

“I like to cook,” he said simply. “I thought when I got this place that I’d barely be here, always out in the Park, but it turns out that even when you work as much as I do, you spend some hours at home with nothing to do. So I learned how to cook. Turns out it’s not as difficult as a lot of lazy husbands probably think it is.”

“That’s the truth,” Lillian muttered. “Can I help at all?”

Cal shook his head firmly. “You can sit down and relax.”

“I’ll set the table at least,” she offered.

“No, thank you, I’ll plate it all up out here,” Cal countered, and Lillian finally had no choice but to sit down at the little kitchen table.

Somehow, though, with Cal’s back turned, his attention busy on the food, it became easier than it had been to ask tentatively, “What’s it like, being a shifter?”

Cal’s hands paused in chopping a green pepper, and Lillian hastily said, “I apologize if that’s rude, I didn’t think—”

“No,” Cal said thoughtfully, “it ain’t rude.” The rough grammar caught her by surprise; she wondered if this was his natural way of speaking, and he’d been cleaning himself up around her. She hoped he stopped, if so. At this point, she wasn’t about to judge him harshly for an ‘ain’t’ or two, that was for certain.

“Just,” he continued, “I don’t normally get asked that question.”

“Really?” she said, surprised. “I would’ve thought people would be dying to know.”

“Well, most people outside this town don’t know, remember,” Cal said. “Out in the rest of the world, shifters are just a weird legend no one believes in anymore.”

“Yes, but you’ve lived here a long time now, haven’t you? And if you grew up in another shifter town...”

Cal shook his head. “I’ve lived here ten years. But it’s the first place I ever lived where shifters were fairly well-known. Like, here, most people don’t talk about it, but everyone knows. You grew up knowing, right?”

Lillian nodded. “My parents told Teri and me that shifters were dangerously violent, so I couldn’t say we were knowledgeable, but yes.”

Cal grimaced at that, glancing back at her as the knife paused. “I gotta say, it’s a miracle you and your sister both turned out so darn well. Seems like it should’ve been impossible. I’m more impressed than I can say.”

Lillian shifted position in the chair, uncomfortable. “So you grew up somewhere it wasn’t known at all,” she prompted.

Cal turned back to his chopping. “That’s right. And it wasn’t—well, I’d prefer this.”

“I can imagine,” Lillian said, trying to picture the sort of desperate secrecy that situation would require.

There was a pause while Cal slid the vegetables off the cutting board into a bowl, and then he said abruptly, “Secrecy was important, but my pack took it to an extreme. Our alpha—my uncle—he was a real dictator. Constantly suspicious that someone was about to spill the secret. He monitored everyone, had a couple of bruisers to make sure all the pack members stayed in line, did exactly what he said. Didn’t want anyone to move a finger without his okay.”

Lillian thought about it. “That sounds awful,” she said, then added slowly, “And...familiar.”

Cal nodded, not turning around. “I don’t talk about it much,” he said tersely. “Not much to say, really, and most of these kids wouldn’t understand. But it seemed to me like you would.”

“Yes,” Lillian said softly. “Not that I’ve experienced the same tactics that he used. No enforcers. But when you live under the thumb of someone who insists on knowing every move you make...it’s difficult. It’s very, very difficult.”

“That’s right,” Cal said. “So I joined up at eighteen. Snuck out, went to the recruiting office, never looked back once. Always been happy I got out.” He took a long, slow, breath, and then tossed some vegetables in a pot, stirred, and then turned around to face her.

“Shifters like hierarchy,” he said. “That’s what I was getting at, answering your question. It’s because of the secrecy, because we don’t have any separate police, or government, or anything like that. So shifter communities, they tend to have some kind of leader. A lot of them call the leaders alphas. Because that’s what they are, most of the time—whoever can display the most dominance to the others. Whether that’s psychological or physical depends on the community, but a lot of the time it’s decided by fighting.”

“That sounds very harsh,” Lillian said quietly. “Difficult for everyone.”

Cal nodded. “These kids here in Glacier—some of them have never known that life at all. I’ve got a ranger, Jeff? He grew up here. He’s got this big family, all shifters, and there’s nothing like that at all. They just live their lives. Which tells me it doesn’t have to be like that. But it gets like that anyway, somehow.

“So they call me their alpha a lot of the time. Because I’m their boss, because I’m a bit older than they are. But they don’t know what it can be like.”

“It sounds to me like you’re doing a very good thing, then,” Lillian said. “Making this place a place where shifters can live more freely, in a healthy community, without violence and fear.”

Now Cal looked uncomfortable. “Maybe,” he said. “It’s hard. Because a lot of the time, it seems like they want a leader. They come ask me advice, ask me what to do. Your sister came to me with this mountain lion problem. And now I gotta decide: do I act like I’m an alpha? Tell her how to handle it, go to the mountain lions and threaten them, because I’m the snow leopards’ alpha and that’s what alphas do?”

Lillian was taken aback. “I had no idea you were bothered by this. Please don’t—I can figure something else out—”

“No,” Cal said quickly. “No. That’s not the problem. Those mountain lions are assholes—pardon my language—and it’s high time someone taught them a lesson, since the police aren’t about to do it. They’re everything that’s wrong with shifter culture, following Gordon Hennessey like he’s their judge and their President all in one. No.

“The thing is just that when I do go to them, I’m putting myself out as the representative of the snow leopards. That’s the trouble. I’m talking to them like Jeff, and Grey, and Nina, and all of them are standing behind my words. And I just wish there was a way to do it as only me, without taking something from the rest of the leopards that they might not want to give me. That’s all.”

Lillian thought that over. “Well,” she said slowly, “why not ask them?”

There was a pause, and then Cal let out a startled laugh. “What?”

Lillian shrugged. “Ask them. If you’re upset that there’s no equitable decision-making in shifter culture, start it yourself. Do you have—hm—pack meetings, or something similar?”

“Well,” Cal said slowly, “no, I suppose we don’t.”

“Maybe you could try something like that, then,” Lillian said. “Sort of like a town hall, I suppose. If they all want you to be their leader, it’s...sort of like they elected you. Unless I’m off the mark,” she added, watching as the expression on Cal’s face went through some odd contortions. “Maybe this doesn’t apply in your situation. I’m afraid I really don’t know a thing about shifters and how they work.”

“A town hall,” Cal was saying slowly. “Huh.” He shook his head. “That’s the strangest thing.”

“It’s fairly normal,” Lillian said hesitantly.

“No, I get that, I just—well, I grew up in that pack I told you about, and then I spent fifteen years in the military, and then I got a job here at the Park where sometimes decisions have to be made fast and without any arguing, if someone’s safety’s at stake.” Cal was talking through it as though he was realizing something as he spoke.

“So there wasn’t much room for any other kinds of authority,” Lillian interpreted. “It was always a straight chain of command.”

Cal nodded. “Town hall. Huh.”

Then he shook himself and turned back to the stove. “Sorry, gotta keep an eye on this,” he said over his shoulder. “It’s almost done.”

“What is it?” Lillian asked.

“Just soup and a salad. Pretty simple stuff.”

In Lillian’s experience, most men’s idea of “making soup” was to open a can of Campbell’s, and they never would’ve thought to include a salad alongside it. “It looks amazing.”

Cal shrugged. “I had some leftover chicken, so I thought this would make a good meal. Got some good bread to go with it, too, and it’s got to be eaten pretty soon anyway.”

Lillian said, “I’m still impressed. I can see you’re a good cook.”

Cal waved a hand, as though shaking off the compliment. “Wait until you taste it before you say anything.”

Lillian had been deliberately imitating Cal’s way of complimenting her—because, she’d realized, he’d been doing it regularly throughout the day. Slow, clear statements about how impressive he thought she was.

She’d been brushing off the compliments because they never quite jived with how she felt about herself. But she hadn’t realized until now how irritating that might be. She wanted to say to Cal, “No, don’t act like I’m wrong to compliment you. I’m not wrong, I can tell that you’re good at this.” It was frustrating, even.

She wondered if that was also how Cal had felt when she’d wriggled out of acknowledging what he said about her. Food for thought there, maybe.

“Just about done,” Cal said, and the next few minutes were a fascinating study in how quick and careful a big man like him could truly be. The kitchen was tidied up, the table was set, and soup was ladled into bowls, all in just a few minutes, and all without any mishap or even too much clatter.

It was graceful as hell—pardon my language, Lillian thought, smiling to herself—and insanely attractive.

Cal brought the soup to the table and set it down in front of her. It smelled amazing.

“Thank you for this,” Lillian said. “I really appreciate it.”

“My guess is you don’t have people cook for you that often,” Cal said. “So I’m happy to change things up a bit for you.”

Lillian was quiet at that, not wanting to complain. Instead, she tasted the soup. It was amazing, rich and full-flavored. The vegetables were bright and not at all overcooked, the chicken was tender, and the stock was...”Do you make your own stock?”

Cal nodded. “Pretty easy. Toss a chicken carcass in a pot of water, walk away for a while, come back and it’s done.”

Lillian shook her head. “Expect me over for dinner again, I suppose.”

“Happy to have you,” Cal said warmly.

Lillian hadn’t been expecting the depth of feeling she could hear in his voice. She felt herself flush.

Was he interested? Was he just being friendly? Or maybe he was feeling something sincere, but it was just because he was happy to welcome someone else into his pack. Lillian could tell that he was a natural leader, whatever his discomfort over the possibility of being too authoritarian. Maybe he was just glad that the pack might be expanding.

“So,” Cal said, apparently oblivious to her racing thoughts, “what made you want to be a librarian?”

“Oh,” Lillian said, immediately distracted, “there was really nothing else I could’ve been. I could hardly decide on a major on college. I just wanted to know a little bit about everything. If I could’ve majored in English, history, biology, chemistry, theater, and fine arts all at once, I would have.”

“That’s interesting,” Cal said thoughtfully. “I guess I would’ve thought a librarian would obviously be someone who liked English literature. But there’s a lot more in the library than just that.”

Lillian nodded vigorously. “There’s all sorts of subjects. And we have a lot of people come in to learn how to use computers these days, too, so I do a lot of educating about that, which I enjoy also.”

Cal smiled. “Librarians of the future.”

“It’s important,” she said. “People need to know how to use computers to access so many services these days, and especially out here in the middle of nowhere, some people still don’t. So it’s a big part of my job. But—well, mostly, I love to read.”

“What are some of your favorite books?”

Lillian smiled. “That’s a good question. People usually ask, ‘What’s your favorite book?’ which I can never answer. Hmm, let’s see. Some of my favorite classics are Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, Twelfth Night...I like science fiction more than I would’ve expected; I just finished Dune and it was very, very good. History, of course; I’ve been reading a book on World War I that’s truly amazing—” She made herself stop.

“Huh,” Cal said. “Maybe you could recommend me some things. There are some nights at the Park where I’m on duty, but mainly there to be on call if there’s some kind of emergency. And the hours can get a bit long with nothing to do. Can’t shift, because then I’m not on the radio, can’t go out into the mountains because I have to be available quick. Just have to sit in my office. A book would be welcome.”

Lillian smiled. “Of course. Come in the library sometime and I’ll pick some things out for you.”

“I’ll do that.” There was that warmth again.

They finished up the meal, and Lillian stood up with her plate before Cal could protest. “No, I won’t hear it,” she said when he opened his mouth. “You cooked this amazing meal for me, the least I can do is the dishes.”

She used her steeliest tone, and Cal looked at her thoughtfully for a minute before saying, “How about we do them together.”

That seemed workable, at least.

Lillian was startled to see that they moved around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine. Normally, two people in a kitchen was a recipe for bumping into each other and dropping things left and right, but somehow Cal seemed to have a sense for where she was, and was always turning at the right moment to hand her a plate or point out the right cabinet to put something in.

She had to wonder if that apparent sense for her was as...physical as the sense she had for him.

He was a big man, and it almost seemed to her that she could feel his body heat, radiating off of him, making her want to lean in close. When he was behind her, she knew it with a bit of a shiver, and when he was turning to her, handing her something, she was reaching for it almost before she knew it was there.

She’d never experienced something like this before. With Lew, it had never been quite this...natural. It had always been hard work to meet Lew where he was at, and she’d thought that meant the marriage was worthwhile, a product of both of their hard work, but obviously she’d been wrong.

And this was something else.

When the last dish was shining in the dish drainer, Lillian stared at the spotless kitchen. “How are you not married?”

Then she winced. She’d been busy suppressing any truly insane statements like, Can I touch your biceps? or Your shirt got some soapsuds on it, better take it off, or even the most outrageous, Would you shift for me? I want to see what you look like as a snow leopard. You must be beautiful.

And now that had fallen out of her mouth instead.

Cal had turned to look at her when she spoke, and suddenly he was...close. Very close. Inches away, and if Lillian had thought she could feel his body heat before, well, that was nothing on now.

“I never met the right woman,” he rumbled.

Forget his body heat, she could feel his voice. All through her lower stomach, making her muscles go liquid.

She leaned in. She couldn’t help it. He was so close, and she just wanted—she just wanted—

He kissed her.

That was what she wanted. Lillian melted under his mouth instantly, letting the kiss sweep her away. Cal made a low noise and pulled her against his body.

She felt like she’d been filled with this tension for hours. This anticipation, this awareness of her own body. She hadn’t known how to disperse it, to make herself relax again, get rid of the—thrumming inside her that had been getting steadily harder and harder to ignore.

This, it turned out, was the answer. Lillian’s arms went around Cal’s shoulders without her even realizing what she was doing—until she was struck by how broad they really were.

His muscles were supple, not rock-hard like she’d assumed they would be. Lillian thought of a sleek cat, and sighed against his mouth.

Cal’s hands were firm on her waist, his fingers stroking gently over the fabric of her shirt. He deepened the kiss slowly, his tongue slipping into her mouth as Lillian opened for him.

The full-body relaxation Lillian had been feeling, the total relief from tension that had suffused her body, started to transform into something else. God, it had been so long since she’d been aroused by a man like this, she’d almost forgotten what it was like.

Or had she? Because she was sure, even though it had been years since they’d had sex even before the divorce, that she’d never, ever felt this way with Lew.

Like she was on fire. Like there was a flame inside her, centered low in her belly and spreading out through her entire body. To her fingertips, to her toes, pushing her to press in closer, slide her tongue along Cal’s, and step backwards as he moved forwards, pushing her back against something solid.

Lillian felt his thigh slide between hers and press right up against the ache between her legs. She broke the kiss to breathe, to just feel that sweet pressure, her eyes slipping closed.

“Good?” Cal’s voice was filled with the warmth she’d come to expect from him, but with a deep edge of something more. Something hotter.

“So good.” Lillian let herself slide down whatever she was braced against—the fridge, she realized hazily—just a few inches. But it was a few inches of delicious friction through her jeans. She was wet, she knew it; probably she was about to soak through the denim and leave a damp patch on Cal’s thigh. The thought was dizzily hot, dirty like she wasn’t used to.

Cal groaned softly, the noise deep and rough and sending a thrill through her. Lillian opened her eyes, wondering, because she hadn’t done anything; in fact, her hands had fallen away, and she was just—

—braced against the fridge, rubbing up against his leg. She froze in place, a blush flaming her cheeks. Of all the low-class, shameless—

“Whoa, no,” Cal said. “Don’t stop.”

His eyes were fixed on her face. She realized that he must have made that noise just because of...how she looked.

“That’s a sight,” he said softly, “that I could happily watch until the end of time.”

Lillian straightened, the embarrassment fading but leaving her a bit more collected. “I think there’d be some friction issues long before then.”

He laughed, looking startled. Lillian was struck by the joy she felt at the sight of it; she wanted to see that again.

But maybe not right this second. The laugh faded into that same sharp-edged warmth she’d seen before, although now it was more restrained. Leashed. Lillian had the sense, as she’d had when she first met him, that Cal always kept himself very well in hand.

She wondered what he was like when he let go.

Maybe she could find out.

Right now, though, he was contained and careful. “I want you to know,” he said, “that I only want to do what you’re comfortable with. We could stop right now if you’d rather—”

“No,” Lillian interrupted, embarrassment returning for a second at her own vehemence.

But Cal just smiled. “Okay, I admit I’m happier to hear that than I would’ve been if you’d wanted to stop. But if you do want to stop, ever, at any point. No matter what, no matter when. Just say so, and we will. I want you to be sure.”

Lillian nodded. “I’m sure,” she said, pulling him down into another kiss.

She didn’t want to talk about it for too long. She didn’t know why she was so sure, and she was afraid if she examined it for too long, the surety would fall apart into a pile of doubts and insecurities.

This felt so good. So right. She hadn’t felt this good about anything for so, so long, and she just wanted to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.

Cal kissed her back, hard, and then pulled away again. “Okay,” he said. “Then I want you somewhere more comfortable than the kitchen.”

Lillian’s instinct was to protest moving—to protest doing anything other than what they’d been doing. But, well, it made sense. “Upstairs?” she asked tentatively.

As an answer, Cal held out his hand. Lillian took it, feeling silly about it for all of two seconds until her hand was absolutely engulfed by his.

His fingers were warm and rough. A working man’s hand, calloused and strong. She wondered what it would feel like on her body. Or inside her—

She shook the thought off, her cheeks hot with more than embarrassment now, and followed him up the stairs.

The bedroom took up the entire second floor, the ceiling sloping up into a pointed roof. The bed was enormous, and covered in a huge, soft-looking duvet. Lillian thought of her own bed at home—her old child’s bed, a sad twin with an old flowered comforter that was losing its stuffing—and wanted to just fall on it and starfish herself out.

That idea sent almost as much of a thrill through her as the kiss had. God, she wasn’t like this. Hedonistic. She’d been sacrificing pleasure for practicality for so long, she was surprised she still remembered what pleasure was even like.

“I like that look on you,” Cal rumbled softly behind her.

She looked over at him. “What look?”

“Happy,” he said, and kissed her softly.

This kiss was more tender than the ones in the kitchen had been, but somehow no less intimate, or arousing. It was like Cal was reaching inside her, finding the parts of her she’d locked down long ago and holding them close to himself. Lillian could feel her whole body opening to him as her mouth did.

She was full of this...grasping ache, this need to have him as close as possible. Hungry. She was hungry.

He slipped his hands under the hem of her shirt to stroke his skin. The roughness of his callouses on the soft skin of her sides was just as arousing as she’d thought it would be. She gasped into his mouth as he moved his hands slowly upward, lifting her shirt as he went, until he broke the kiss and Lillian had to raise her arms to let the shirt come over her head.

Then her shirt was off, and she looked down at herself, her eyes catching on the heaviness of her breasts, the roundness of her belly.

Cold reality started to creep in. She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. Hadn’t she just been this hungry, uninhibited creature? But she couldn’t chase away the self-consciousness.

“Look at you,” Cal said.

“I don’t—I’m not—” Lillian stumbled over her words. How to say to this gorgeous man, who’d probably never been out of shape a day in his life, that her body had never been a source of pride to her? She wasn’t in her twenties anymore, and she’d always weighed too much anyway. There was a reason she dressed like—well, like a librarian. A reasonably stylish librarian, but still. She wore high-necked shirts and full skirts, her body tucked away from anyone who might catch a glimpse of it.

But Cal was looking at it now like he was the hungry one.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said quietly. “Those curves. They make a man want to put his hands all over you.”

Lillian stared down at herself again—her breasts, which were not perky little B-cups, required a hell of a lot of underwire to keep them contained. Her wide hips, her thighs.

“I don’t see it,” she admitted, and that moment of vulnerability was somehow much, much harder than just taking her shirt off had been.

“Then I have to show you, I guess,” Cal said. “See?” He reached out and traced the inner curve of her breast. Lillian shivered as his fingers glided down into her cleavage, settling there for just a second.

“This right here,” Cal said. His voice had gone even deeper, if possible. His hand kept going downward, slid out to her waist and cupped her hip.

“And this,” he said. “Can I unbutton these?” He tugged at the waistband of her jeans.

Lillian nodded, and Cal slowly undid the buttons, his hands brushing the skin of her stomach—an area she normally would’ve said wasn’t attractive to anyone.

But when he had the button undone, Cal leaned down and pressed a long, open-mouthed kiss to the place the button had rested. Lillian made an involuntary noise as muscles inside of her jerked in pleasure at the touch of his mouth.

He straightened, and looked her in the eye. “I badly want to see you without any clothes on at all. Okay?”

Lillian could only nod, overwhelmed.

Cal stripped her out of her jeans easily, by means of simply nudging her over to that enormous bed, tugging them down, and then kissing the incredibly tender skin on the inside of her hip. When his stubble rasped over it, her knees went weak, and she sat down on the softness of that duvet.

Cal got her jeans, socks, and shoes right off after that, quick as anything, and then came back up to unhook her bra.

He kissed her between her breasts when it came off, right where his fingers had rested a few moments ago. “You look perfect,” he said into her skin. “You feel perfect.”

Lillian wondered if she could believe it. Maybe not, but could she believe that he believed it?

Cal’s fingers came back, then, and this time they were tracing over the waistline of her panties. Lillian blushed to think of them—they were nothing sexy, no lace or bows, just plain high-waisted briefs. She didn’t shave anything down there, either, so it wasn’t a smooth perfect sight, like actress in a movie in her underwear.

“Can I take these off too?” Cal asked.

But he still wanted to look at her.

“Yes,” Lillian said, almost not recognizing her own voice. She lifted her hips for Cal to tug them off, feeling hot trails of sensation wherever his fingers brushed her.

And then she was naked, as she hadn’t been in front of anybody else in a long, long, long time.

Cal’s eyes were hot on her, though; Lillian almost thought she could feel his gaze, traveling over all the parts of her body she’d always thought were unattractive. Her upper arms. Her knees. Her hips. The unruly bush of her pubic hair.

Then he stepped forward and bent down, wrapping her up in his arms...

...and lifted her up and deposited her in the very center of the bed.

Lillian let out a decidedly girlish noise. “Careful!”

He pulled back immediately. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no—I just meant—I’m too heavy to do that.”

Cal shook his head. “You’re not too heavy for me,” he said. And looking at his body, Lillian had to admit that it was probably true. Even if he hadn’t been a shapeshifter—were they stronger than regular humans?—he looked like he could bench-press her no problem.

He bent down to kiss her, and then started moving down her body. His lips were hot and his stubble was just the right amount of rough, and, Lillian quickly discovered, he was determined to pay close attention to just about every inch of her.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her skin, “here,” her collarbone, and then the hollow in the middle. “Here.” Her shoulder. “Here.” The inside of her elbow.

He kept repeating it, as he kissed her wrist, the palm of her hand, and the tip of her ring finger, and then the ticklish skin high on her side, almost under her arm—Lillian squirmed, and then shuddered as he pressed that kiss in harder, until the tickling turned into a thrill of pleasure.

“Here.” Her nipple, and she gasped. “Here,” and he kissed down her stomach, leaving sparks of sensation behind. Lillian tensed.

“Here.” The hollow of her hip. Then the inside of her thigh, and Lillian spread her legs almost involuntarily, wanting—wanting—

His fingers touched her first. Those calloused fingertips softly sliding over her clit, sending lightning bolts of sensation through her entire body. Lillian cried out.

“Sorry,” she said, when she caught her breath. “I was just—surprised.”

Surprised wasn’t the right word, but she didn’t know if she could say overwhelmed with pleasure out loud.

Call stroked her again. “Don’t apologize.” Lillian let out a breathy moan. “I want to hear every noise you make. I get the feeling you don’t—” He stopped himself before saying whatever was going to finish that sentence. “I don’t want you to think you’ve got to hold back. I don’t want you to be embarrassed about feeling good. I want you to feel good. I want you to make noise, and move, and I want to make you come.”

“Oh.” Cal had punctuated that last word with another stroke down her clit. “I think—I think you’re going to get your wish,” she managed.

He grinned, and it was surprisingly boyish. Wicked, almost. Lillian liked it. “Let’s see.” And he bent his head.

Someone who by his own admission was perpetually single had no right to be as good at this as he was, Lillian thought hazily. Cal started out just lightly, his tongue soft against her clit, chasing each twitch of sensation. Every time she made a noise, or jerked against him, he spent a bit more time doing just that, and he seemed to remember every reaction, because he’d come back and do it again.

He sucked lightly just at the top of her clit, licked down to just above her entrance and spent some time there with his tongue and his fingers both, then worked back up in long, wide licks that had her quivering against his mouth.

Lillian sighed under the attention. He sucked again, and the sigh turned into a long moan, which grew louder as he started focusing his licks down near the base of her clit. And then she felt it: the touch of one of those big, calloused fingers against her wet entrance, circling slowly around it.

It was too much. As Cal pressed his tongue in, then opened his mouth and sucked right where the pleasure was coalescing into ecstasy, Lillian heard herself cry out. She came hard, her entrance fluttering against Cal’s finger as her internal muscles clenched around nothing, her clit twitching against his mouth.

When she caught her breath, Cal had pulled back and was watching her face with the same expression she’d seen downstairs against the fridge. “That,” he said quietly, “is a sight.”

Lillian thought she should be blushing at how uninhibited she’d been, but all she felt was a foreign kind of sexiness. The awareness that that look on Cal’s face was for her. And—her eyes flickered downward—so was the bulge in his jeans.

“I could do with more of a sight myself,” she said, letting her eyes travel up and down his body.

He laughed, looking surprised. Lillian found herself hungry for more than just his body—she wanted to hear that laugh again and again. It seemed to nourish something inside her, warm her and fill her with happiness to hear.

Cal was unbuttoning his shirt. Lillian immediately forgot about anything but the sight of his muscled chest emerging from the fabric, one delicious inch of skin at a time. She couldn’t believe this was hers.

At least for today.

The shirt came off, revealing his whole torso. Golden-tan, lightly furred with salt-and-pepper hair, and all made up of real, hard muscle. Not the kind a guy got from going to the gym. The kind a man got from working outside.

Cal’s hands went to his pants, and he quirked an eyebrow at her, like, do you want this too? Lillian again noticed how playful it seemed. God, he was charming as hell, even though she was sure he wasn’t meaning to be.

Lew had always tried hard to be charming. It had felt like he was making an effort for her, right up until it started to feel like he was lying all the time.

“Yes, please,” Lillian said to the unspoken question, keeping her voice steady with an effort.

Cal’s hands slowly undid the button of his pants, then the zipper...and then he pushed them down along with his underwear in one smooth motion, and stepped out of them to stand naked in front of the bed.

“Wow,” Lillian’s mouth said, without any input from her brain whatsoever.

Unbelievably, he seemed a bit self-conscious all of a sudden. “Just what nature gave me,” he said.

“Nature was in a giving mood that day, then,” Lillian said fervently. Not only in his height and muscles, but also in his—ahem—endowment. He was big everywhere. And hard, hard enough that she was amazed he was holding back as well as he had been.

Lew had always seemed a slave to his hard-on, no control over himself at all. It was eye-opening to notice that the shifter, supposedly a man of wild and vicious instincts, was waiting for her to look her fill without any trouble.

Well, she didn’t want either of them to wait any longer. “Will you—will you come here?”

That chased away any hesitation in his eyes; she could only see eagerness as he came forward, crawling up the bed to hover over her. Lillian reached up, put her arms around his neck, and pulled him down.

A flash of heat jolted through her body at the sudden feeling of him, warm and muscular, pressed all along her bare skin. He’d settled perfectly and naturally between her legs, and she could feel his erection against her thigh, hot and with a hint of wetness.

She was practically panting with desire, she realized. The orgasm he’d given her had left her muscles still shivering with the need for more. She felt open and aching, wanting nothing more than to be filled.

“I want you inside me,” she said into his ear.

Her voice sounded low, full of desire. Sexy. She’d never heard herself sound quite like that before.

Cal made a low noise. “Anything you want,” he said, and kissed her neck. Lillian’s hips twisted involuntarily at the shock of want his stubble sent through her. The rasp against her soft skin was startlingly hot.

One of his big hands cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing over her nipple, and then drifted down—stopping, as though he couldn’t help himself, at her hip, and then sliding down her thigh. Lillian lifted her leg when he tugged at it, and then his hand slipped slowly—reluctantly?—away, and he pulled back enough to get a hand between them.

One of his fingers slid inside her easily. A second joined it, and Lillian moaned at the sensation of them in her. It wasn’t quite enough, though. “Come on,” she insisted. “I’m ready.”

Cal smiled at that, and leaned in to kiss her. His fingers slipped out, and the next thing she knew, the blunt head of his cock was pressing against her entrance.

“Oh,” Lillian said involuntarily. Maybe she’d been wrong about being ready. He was huge, larger than anything she’d ever had inside her.

But it never crossed over into real discomfort. Cal went slowly, so slowly, pushing a little more, and a little more, until the head was in. Lillian grabbed at his shoulders, clutching hard. Her nails must be digging in, she thought dizzily, and hoped it didn’t hurt, because she couldn’t let go. He was huge, he was so huge—

“Are you okay?” How was Cal’s voice so tender at this moment, when he had to be going crazy at how tightly she was clenching around him?

“Yes,” Lillian gasped. “I’m okay, I’m okay, keep going.”

He was huge, and the stretch was intense, but it wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all. In fact, as her muscles slowly got used to the size of him, the pleasure was starting to build into something impossibly, unreachably good.

Cal took her at her word and kept going, as slow as slow could be. Lillian’s head fell back and she gasped for air. He was so enormous, and it felt so, so good—she’d never realized she could feel like this. Like pleasure was holding her whole body captive, so she couldn’t feel anything else, couldn’t do anything else but shudder around him.

It seemed to take an eon for him to bottom out, but finally, achingly, he was seated fully inside her. Slowly, Lillian found herself able to think again, as she adjusted to his size and caught her breath. He still felt enormous.

“Okay?” he asked her again. His voice sounded tight, like he was finally starting to have a hard time holding back, but he stayed absolutely still.

She nodded. “More than okay.” She sounded breathy and overwhelmed. “I never would’ve thought—but you feel so good. Are you all right?”

That made him chuckle, and she gasped at the burst of sensation that came with the movement. “I don’t know what you think would be a problem here.”

“Just—” she struggled for words. “It must be hard for you—going so slow. Holding back. You don’t have to.”

His voice went darker. “I do have to. None of this would be good if it wasn’t good for you. Is it good?”

“So good,” she sighed. She was dimly aware that she sounded just as pleasure-drunk as she was, but it was all too much to be embarrassed. “Will you move?”

“Mmmm,” he agreed. The noise sounded like it came from deep in his chest, and she could hear the satisfaction in it.

Then he started to move, and Lillian again lost any ability to think.

It was still so slow, achingly slow, but the feeling of him sliding in and out, pressing against all the best spots inside her and increasing that pressure as he pushed in, left her shuddering with pleasure. He was big enough to get all the way inside her, right up to her cervix, which—Lillian knew that some women found that painful, but she never had.

Each time he came all the way inside and pressed against it, she spasmed around him, clenching hard—then relaxed as he withdrew, catching her breath. And then he pushed in again, and she cried out with how good it was.

He sped up slowly, incrementally, so that she didn’t even notice until his thrusts had started coming fast enough that she was riding a continuous wave of pleasure. She focused hazily on his face, and she could see that his hair was damp with sweat, and his face tight with pleasure, or effort.

Cal met her eyes, focused on her. His own eyes seemed to be all silver now, no trace of the darker iron gray she usually saw, and he looked at her like he was seeing the most beautiful thing in the world.

He kissed her, and she came for the second time. It broke over her like an enormous drenching wave, tossing her body around with its force; she clutched hard at Cal to anchor herself in the storm of pleasure. Her hips jerked hard, driving him as deep as he could go, and she moaned brokenly through it.

“God—Lillian—” Cal’s voice broke too, and as Lillian started to come back to herself, he drove hard into her one last time and came as well. She could feel the pulses deep inside her, and shuddered again.

It was a long, long time before either of them moved. Finally, Cal withdrew, breathing hard.

“Wow,” Lillian said finally, on a shaky exhale.

Cal laughed breathlessly. “Wow is right.” He’d rolled over on his back, and was staring at the ceiling, as though thinking some kind of deep thoughts. Lillian couldn’t imagine what they might be; her brain was completely wrung-out, and she felt like she might fall asleep at any moment.

In fact, the next few minute disappeared into a kind of fog, and the next thing she knew, Cal was there with a warm washcloth, giving them both a nice, shivery little sponge bath to get all the stickiness away. Lillian stretched out into the softness of the pillows as he disappeared again, and slipped away into sleep.

***

Cal watched Lillian softly breathing in her sleep, carried away on the wave of emotion that had descended on him when he’d first seen her naked and vulnerable, crossing her arms over her chest like she didn’t want anyone to look.

The wave still hadn’t crested. It just kept getting stronger and stronger. He’d thought he was at the peak when he’d tried to show her how gorgeous she was, how her luscious curves made him want to kiss her all over; when he’d made her come on his tongue; when he’d pushed inside her, so slowly, determined not to hurt her, and seen her go wild with pleasure.

When they’d come together, and he’d realized with a shattering epiphany that she was his mate.

Cal hadn’t ever thought he’d find his mate. He’d given up on the idea when he left his pack at eighteen to join the Marines. He’d known then that he was leaving shifter culture behind, and with it, the likelihood that he’d ever have even a slight chance to find a true mate.

Then, when he’d come to Glacier, he’d briefly wondered if his mate might be there. But when none of the shifter women in town had caught his eye at all, he’d given up on the idea entirely.

He’d never thought his mate might be human.

And he never could’ve dreamed up someone like Lillian. If he’d been thinking to himself, he probably would’ve imagined an outdoorswoman, a shifter, someone who’d patrol alongside him and work with him at the Park.

Someone who would fit right in with his life as it was.

Instead, here was Lillian. She’d gone to college. More than that, she was a librarian; she’d probably read more books in the last year than he’d even looked at in his life. She didn’t seem the outdoorsy type; too collected, too composed.

Gracious. Mannered, in kind of an old-fashioned way that Cal realized he liked. Watching her navigate social situations with that thoughtful competence was more attractive than he could’ve guessed.

And the way she’d looked around the cabin with a practiced eye, started suggesting changes before she’d cut herself off—

Well, what Cal had thought about saying, before he’d decided it was too forward, was that the place needed a woman’s touch. Because it did; he’d been thinking for years that he should ask a woman’s help with getting the place decorated, without ever managing to ask one.

Because, if he were honest with himself, he liked his home to be his own, and he didn’t want any strange people and their tastes intruding.

And yet, he’d invited Lillian to come stay without at second thought. He’d cooked her lunch and let her help clean up with him, and it had felt so natural that he hadn’t even remembered that he usually kept the place sacrosanct, never inviting anyone else over.

Now it made sense, though. Of course his mate felt like she belonged here. Of course he knew that this was her home, too.

Cal’s thoughts raced ahead before he could help himself. Lillian setting herself up as the woman of the house. Every room taking on touches of her taste. Seeing her presence in paintings on the walls or cushions on the chairs. Books stacked on end tables. Watching her move comfortably around the kitchen when it was her turn to cook. Arguing her into sitting down and resting her feet when it was his turn. Cooking together.

Even—maybe—having children someday.

Little snow leopard cubs.

That was an idea that he’d firmly cut off long ago. He’d known himself, he thought: a bachelor, childless, married to his job, destined to be the crusty old mentor to all the new young rangers coming into the Park. He’d settled comfortably into his role—he knew he acted older than he actually was, and he usually leaned into it.

It was a comfortable authority, a way of life he’d pulled around him like a worn-in old coat.

Taking the coat off, just to see what it might be like, felt strangely terrifying.

But...it could happen. It would depend on what Lillian wanted, of course. But maybe she wanted kids. He could picture that no-good ex-husband of hers so clearly in his mind: there was no way that asshole had wanted the extra responsibility of children. He was probably the type that thought kids would tie him down and keep him from achieving his dreams.

And maybe Lillian felt the same; maybe that was part of the reason they’d married in the first place. Cal had no way of knowing until he asked her.

But maybe she didn’t. And he could see it so easily: she’d be a great mother. Natural authority, absolutely immune to any type of kid-style manipulation, but kind and affectionate, ready with a hug or a time-out as needed. Ready to give Cal a piece of her mind if he did anything wrong. And faced with the complete foreign country that was babies, he’d need a safety net like that.

One day, Cal thought, with a careful deliberation, as though the idea might burst like a balloon if he hit it too hard, one day this cabin could hold a family.

Once they got through this mountain lion threat.

A fierce protectiveness roared through Cal at the thought. He could admit it, finally: he’d felt this from the moment a beautiful, brave woman had sat in his office and calmly explained that shifters were threatening and frightening her, and that she was afraid for her own safety. He’d felt it when he’d gone to Hennessey’s cabin. He’d been feeling it all along.

He’d been locking it down, keeping his leopard muzzled, because it was inappropriate for the situation. And overall not likely to help Lillian much.

That last hadn’t changed. But now he understood.

Our mate is in danger, his leopard snarled. Our mate! Protect her!

It all made sense now. He’d wanted to take on all those mountain lions alone, back at that cabin. He’d been reckless to even confront them. And when Lillian had told him about her worthless ex, Cal had wanted to hunt him down and show him what real men thought of the sort of cowardice that led to the mistreatment of women.

It was all true. Cal would help any woman in this situation. But the depth of his rage and the fierceness of his leopard was all due to Lillian. It was because the beautiful, brave woman was his mate.

He reached out and gently traced his fingers down the side of Lillian’s face. Her hair had come out of its complicated-looking style and was falling in curly golden tendrils over the pillow. He caught one in his fingers; it was soft as silk.

Should he explain what had happened? He wanted to, deeply and desperately; he wanted her to understand that he was on her side—that the side was theirs, forever.

But she knew so little about shifters. Would the idea of mates scare her? Would it make her want to get away somewhere? That wasn’t safe for her right now.

Cal couldn’t risk her getting hurt. And he didn’t want to confront her with something so momentous when she couldn’t leave to think it over, not without putting herself in danger. On the other hand, he didn’t want to lie to her. He wasn’t sure what to do.

But he was sure of something: no one was hurting Lillian under his watch. Not ever.

He glanced at the clock. Late afternoon. Practical considerations started creeping in: maybe she’d want a snack or something when she woke up. He’d go down and see what he could rustle up.

***