desperately for a purchase. She missed with her left hand but her right caught the gnarled branch firmly. She managed to grip with her left and kept moving, using her weight as a pendulum to swing herself onto the branch.
She ran along the branches, fitting an arrow into her crossbow. Brodrick scrambled up the trunk and landed behind her, hard enough to shake the tree. She faced him, standing her ground, looking into those evil yellow eyes. He stared at her, motionless, in a crouch, prepared for a rush. She felt the pull of his mesmerizing power, those eyes burning over her, marking her as prey.
She held the crossbow at her hip, loosely aimed, and stared into his eyes. She let him see her loathing. She despised him. There would be no respect. No give to this monster. And no fear. She would never show him fear again. His lip curled at her insubordination. Grown jaguar-men, experienced fighters, bowed before him, but here she was, a lowly woman, meeting his stare, not looking away—daring to challenge his authority.
Solange made certain that he could see her contempt. Her defiance. Her complete revulsion of everything he was. Taunting him. She knew him. She’d studied him. He demanded complete reverence, and he got it through intimidation and cruelty. All must bow before him, especially women. He hated the women who carried life in their bodies but refused to follow his will. They were put on earth to serve their men, to be used in whatever way the men saw fit, and yet they’d fled the rain forest and his authority to find human males. It was a slap in his face and he despised them. Every chance he got he punished them in demeaning and brutal ways. She knew her defiance would enrage him—and she wanted him enraged.
They stared at one another for a long time, neither blinking. She saw the power gathering in his muscles, the fierce directness in his stare.
“It’s been a long time—Father.” She spat the word.
The jaguar stilled, muscles going rigid. She’d thrown him off his attack. She kept his gaze, playing the life-and-death game with him.
“You wanted royal blood. Am I the only one you didn’t manage to destroy?”
She saw the hesitation—the puzzlement. He wanted a female shifter of pure blood, but where had she come from? And royal blood? In all the hundreds of female children he’d destroyed, he wouldn’t remember one.
He would want her alive. He knew she was a shifter and that she was fast at it. There were so few women left who could shift.
She waited patiently, breathing. In. Out. Waiting for him to hear what she said. Not pure. Royal. She saw the moment he understood . Father . Royal. Yeah, he put it together. He shook his head, clearly shocked, his eyes never leaving her face.
She flashed her teeth. “Aren’t you going to say welcome home— Daddy ?”
It was a taunt. A dare. A female challenging him.
He snarled and began to shift—as she knew he would. She had only seconds. He was fast—faster than she’d imagined he could be. She brought up the crossbow and shot an arrow straight into his shifting throat.
Turning, she leapt into the next tree, moving fast, knowing if she hadn’t killed him, he would come after her.
She heard the roar, caught the spatter of blood on the leaves around her and kept going. The jaguar was enraged, and a wounded cat was doubly dangerous. Something big crashed onto the tree behind her and the entire tree shook, nearly dislodging her. She threw herself precariously onto the next branch, scrambling to get across the shaking limb. Tree frogs jumped out of her way. A lizard burst out from under leaves and ran. She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye but didn’t slow, leaping to the next tree, landing in a crouch to whirl around and let fly a second arrow.
The black jaguar looked hideous, all teeth, blood running down its neck to the broad chest. There in the darkness his eyes glowed red, fixed on her, angry and determined, his
She ran along the branches, fitting an arrow into her crossbow. Brodrick scrambled up the trunk and landed behind her, hard enough to shake the tree. She faced him, standing her ground, looking into those evil yellow eyes. He stared at her, motionless, in a crouch, prepared for a rush. She felt the pull of his mesmerizing power, those eyes burning over her, marking her as prey.
She held the crossbow at her hip, loosely aimed, and stared into his eyes. She let him see her loathing. She despised him. There would be no respect. No give to this monster. And no fear. She would never show him fear again. His lip curled at her insubordination. Grown jaguar-men, experienced fighters, bowed before him, but here she was, a lowly woman, meeting his stare, not looking away—daring to challenge his authority.
Solange made certain that he could see her contempt. Her defiance. Her complete revulsion of everything he was. Taunting him. She knew him. She’d studied him. He demanded complete reverence, and he got it through intimidation and cruelty. All must bow before him, especially women. He hated the women who carried life in their bodies but refused to follow his will. They were put on earth to serve their men, to be used in whatever way the men saw fit, and yet they’d fled the rain forest and his authority to find human males. It was a slap in his face and he despised them. Every chance he got he punished them in demeaning and brutal ways. She knew her defiance would enrage him—and she wanted him enraged.
They stared at one another for a long time, neither blinking. She saw the power gathering in his muscles, the fierce directness in his stare.
“It’s been a long time—Father.” She spat the word.
The jaguar stilled, muscles going rigid. She’d thrown him off his attack. She kept his gaze, playing the life-and-death game with him.
“You wanted royal blood. Am I the only one you didn’t manage to destroy?”
She saw the hesitation—the puzzlement. He wanted a female shifter of pure blood, but where had she come from? And royal blood? In all the hundreds of female children he’d destroyed, he wouldn’t remember one.
He would want her alive. He knew she was a shifter and that she was fast at it. There were so few women left who could shift.
She waited patiently, breathing. In. Out. Waiting for him to hear what she said. Not pure. Royal. She saw the moment he understood . Father . Royal. Yeah, he put it together. He shook his head, clearly shocked, his eyes never leaving her face.
She flashed her teeth. “Aren’t you going to say welcome home— Daddy ?”
It was a taunt. A dare. A female challenging him.
He snarled and began to shift—as she knew he would. She had only seconds. He was fast—faster than she’d imagined he could be. She brought up the crossbow and shot an arrow straight into his shifting throat.
Turning, she leapt into the next tree, moving fast, knowing if she hadn’t killed him, he would come after her.
She heard the roar, caught the spatter of blood on the leaves around her and kept going. The jaguar was enraged, and a wounded cat was doubly dangerous. Something big crashed onto the tree behind her and the entire tree shook, nearly dislodging her. She threw herself precariously onto the next branch, scrambling to get across the shaking limb. Tree frogs jumped out of her way. A lizard burst out from under leaves and ran. She caught the movement out of the corner of her eye but didn’t slow, leaping to the next tree, landing in a crouch to whirl around and let fly a second arrow.
The black jaguar looked hideous, all teeth, blood running down its neck to the broad chest. There in the darkness his eyes glowed red, fixed on her, angry and determined, his
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