Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Isaiah’s gut clenched at the memory of how happy she’d looked. He’d eavesdropped on their conversation—it hadn’t been hard, thanks to shifter-enhanced hearing—and learned enough basic details about her to do a thorough background check.
A quick summary? Her name was Lucinda. She was human. And she’d been engaged for five years to a fellow human.
It wasn’t common for a shifter’s true mate to be human, but it wasn’t rare either. His cat had been pissed by her being engaged to another, but not discouraged. The animal had felt certain she’d toss aside the human male once she realized she was meant for them. Isaiah, however, hadn’t for a moment believed she’d end what appeared to be a solid, loving relationship for a perfect stranger.
So, instead of edge his way into her life, he had kept tabs on her from afar, always looking for some crack or weakness in her relationship—anything that would suggest it wouldn’t go the distance. On the contrary, Isaiah had learned that she was getting IVF treatment as she and her fiancé were planning to start a family.
Yeah, that had been as painful as any gut-shot.
Still, his cat had been hopeful that maybe, just maybe, Lucinda would one day be theirs. The animal had believed that, destined to be theirs, she’d somehow become detached from her fiancé at some point. Isaiah hadn’t felt quite as optimistic, but he had harbored some hope that his cat was right.
That hope recently died a swift death when Isaiah learned that the IVF treatment had worked. She was pregnant.
His ribs suddenly felt too tight, making it hurt for him to draw in a breath. Refocusing on his laptop, he finally responded, Long story cut short: my human TM is engaged to an equally human accountant and is carrying his baby.
Long moments of nothing went by, then … Whoa. Super sorry to hear that. Sucks that you had to learn she's yours when the situation is so impossible.
Exactly. It seemed cruel that the universe had allowed him to find Lucinda when nothing could ever come of it. Is there any chance of your TM seeing the light and backing out of his mating?
No. Especially when he’s so set on leading a pride. It wouldn’t matter if he did back out anyway, I couldn’t accept him. Too much dark emotion there now, you know?
He did know. He really fucking did.
Isaiah was well-aware that it was irrational of him to feel betrayed by Lucinda. She didn’t even know him. But the emotion was there all the same.
It had to be worse for Quinley because, going by her remark that her true mate didn’t believe they were fated, she must have posited it to him only to be rejected.
Returning his attention to his laptop, he typed, I take it you’re not looking for a mate who’ll move to your territory? If he was reading the situation correctly, Quinley wanted to be away from her true mate, but Isaiah needed to be sure.
I’m looking to switch prides and start afresh, she replied. What about you?
I intend to remain part of my pride. My mate will need to transfer here. He paused, briefly hesitating before adding, My pride is made up of mostly pallas cats. Will that be an issue for you?
Nope.
Nope. Just nope. He liked that.
Would it be a problem for you or your pride mates that I’m a different breed of shifter? she asked.
Such bigotry had once existed in his pride, but it had smoothed out over time. His Alpha female was actually a devil shifter—the shifter equivalent of a Tasmanian devil. Havana would probably be intrigued to learn what Quinley was.
Generally speaking, though not very social, black-footed cat shifters were placid creatures. They were also incredible hunters—if they set their sights on something, it was a rare occasion that they didn’t catch it.
Even smaller than pallas cats, they looked much like a regular tabby. They were all about the simple things. Just wanted to eat, run, hunt, sleep, and eat some more.
Yes, they ate a lot. They would feast on anything—mammals, birds, insects, the living, the dead, the dying. As long as it was edible, they’d eat it. Hell, even if it wasn’t edible, they would still try to eat it.
Whether in human skin or animal fur, they didn’t seek trouble. But if pulled into a fight, they would battle fiercely and savagely until their opponent tired—which often occurred, because no other shifter was as high-energy as black-foots.
For Isaiah, their very existence flipped the finger at logic. Black-foots weren’t built to take a beating in their feline form. Anyone could see that. But, as if blessed by shifter gods or something, they never seemed to die.
You stabbed one in the heart? Awesome for you. But they’d live. You set one on fire? Brave of you. But they’d survive. You drowned one in acid? Highly sadistic—and messed up. But they’d still live to tell the tale.