Cat with the Blue Eyes (MF)
The Cats of Craig Mhor
It’s not easy being among wild cat shifters when you’re simply human. Especially when you’re trying to keep your supposed mate at arm’s length. Catlin Creamer isn’t buying into this destiny nonsense. What does that even mean? Dylan MacSween might be her every fantasy on legs, but she will not be subjugated by any man, let alone an Alpha like him.
Give him a pack to rule any time. Wooing a female like Cat is a complete step into the unknown. However, this Alpha knows what he wants, and he wants his mate. Persuading her might take some time, but when his leadership is challenged, Cat proves herself more than worthy as his life partner.
The cat next to her smiled—if that’s what you called the baring of canines—shook and morphed into a hot as hades male. One she’d sworn off ages ago.
He was bad enough as a cat. As a human, a naked human, he was ten times worse.
Dylan MacSween stretched and her mouth went dry.
God, he was magnificent. Long tawny tresses with those gold and dark streaks in them, just like his fur when he’d shifted. A torso sprinkled with short strands of gold and black, which arrowed downward to where dark, wiry, hair made a nest for his, she had to admit, rather magnificent cock. To say she drooled was an understatement.
Her mouth went dry as she thought of what he could do with that appendage…if she agreed to mate with him.
Unfortunately for her, he was her designated mate and she was having none of it. No way would she be told to mate, or subjugate herself to anyone. Even if it did mean she stayed single forever.
“You’d hate it.” Dylan shook his head and let his hair spin around and settle on his shoulders. “Being single for ever.”
“Dammit, keep out of my thoughts. It’s rude to listen in,” she said indignantly. “Mine all mine.”
“You forget as my life partner to be, I can read you without consciously trying. Hear you automatically,” Dylan said as he finger combed his hair and plaited it loosely. “Sod it, this needs cutting. Have you got an elastic handy? Nowhere to hide one like this.” He regarded his naked body unselfconsciously.
Catlin rummaged in her pocket and brought out a pink scrunchy. “Only this.” She waited to see what he’d say as she dangled it from one finger and whirled it around in a circle.
“Thanks, that’s fine.” Dylan took it from her mid-swing, and secured the end of his plait. “Right, any clues where my jeans are?”
“Where you left them maybe?” Catlin said sweetly. Something in his tone annoyed her. “I’m not your servant. I have no idea where you dump stuff, because I have no need to.”
Dylan gave her a black look. His eyes glowed yellow and dangerous before he blinked and sheathed his inner cat. She shivered. Why, oh why did she insist on challenging him?
Because he’s too big for his paws that’s why. But was he? Or was he merely fulfilling his role in the Dowt—their group of Scottish Wild Cats that lived and worked as humans part of the time and shifted into their wild forms at others.
“Never said you were my servant, sweet Cat. I don’t want a servant. I want a partner.”