⛰️ Shifter Mountain: Hearts of Stone, Book 1, Chapter 2
Keeton Grey is an Eastern Mountain Lion Shifter with a serious people problem. As in, he hates all of them.
What the actual fuck?
Keeton stalked through the woods, feline senses on high alert. The sounds of soft whimpers and bitten back moans reached his sensitive ears. This patch of forest high in the Panther Mountains was his domain.
My territory.
His Mountain Lion snarled loudly. The sound caused the source of those devilishly intriguing noises to stifle a gasp. He wanted to laugh, would have if he wore skin and not fur, but regardless of the person’s attempts to quiet themselves, Keeton was very much aware of their presence.
The notes in the air turned sour with fear and he puffed out a breath, scrunching his feline nose in distaste. Lemony tart was not his favorite flavor. He was more a rosewater and honey type Mountain Lion. Aptly named the ghost cat, Keeton crept forward. Really, he should just roar and scare the piss out of the trespasser, but something elusive about the man held his interest.
Unable to resist, he snarled once more, even louder than before. The stranger yelped, then gasped again, as if the sudden movement jarred something out of place. Whatever. A man could crawl with a broken leg. He’d seen it often enough when he’d been on active duty. He listened for the rustle of leaves, nodded satisfactorily as the interloper started moving off his property. Then crash, boom, thud, and more whimpering.
Hmmpf.
Served the ingrate right. Keeton would harbor no intruders in his inner sanctum. He sniffed the air, hissing at the decidedly human scent that reached him. But where he expected some hot shot male foolish enough to walk onto his property despite the warning signs, he’d posted every hundred yards since his return to US Soil, the floral notes on the air told him it was a woman who dared invade his domain. A woman who he was fairly sure had injured herself on the rocks hidden beneath the layers of slippery leaves that had fallen between bouts of rain the last week or so.
Shit.
He couldn’t leave a woman out there all night. The sun would set soon, and he still had to go back for his change of clothes before he could let her see him. First, he’d better make sure she was not in any real danger.
He leapt onto a sturdy limb from a nearby birch tree. Creeping forward stealthily, Keeton balanced his long, muscular body on the branch that dangled over the rocky patch of ground the woman had stumbled upon. Hair the color of a desert sunset, a sort of rusty gold caught his eye, but that wasn’t the only thing about her that dazzled.
The female wore a pair of well-worn jeans that hugged her curvy frame. She was leaning over a backpack, its contents now spilled across the forest floor, and she tried earnestly to gather them up silently. From what he could see she had a toothbrush, shampoo, some clothes, bug spray, and fuck, was that a taser gun?
She was completely adorable. Everything inside of him swelled with the need to go to her. To make sure she was unhurt, keep her safe from harm. Once she had her belongings, he feared he missed his chance. But the sweet looking woman bit her lip and cried out as her ankle refused to support her, and she slumped back to her knees.
Grrr.
He fought his cat’s urge to run to her, turning back instead for the nearest of his secret stashes of clothes spread throughout the mountains. He would give her the aid she required, but he needed to be dressed to do that.
The sooner he helped her, the sooner she would be gone. Off his property. Out of his life. Then Keeton wouldn’t have to worry about the very real dangers she posed to his lifestyle. No, he wouldn’t think about that now. Refused to even say it aloud.
He shrugged on his jeans and flannel, using his long stride to his advantage just in case she managed to try to wander off. Foolish woman could get herself really hurt. True, he was the fiercest beast in the land, but not the only one. There were plenty of black bears, a few wolves, and several coyotes in the Panther Mountains.
Wild creatures who were generally wary of his turf, but the area she’d fallen was near the edge of his territory. There was no telling who or what she’d run into if he didn’t get to her in time.
Keeton inhaled a deep breath, picking up the floral hints of the female’s scent along with the distinct tartness of fear. His Mountain Lion roared inside of him. The beast didn’t want the woman scared. He pressed against his skin, scratching, and clawing for Keeton to move faster. He didn’t want to startle her any further, so he purposely made noise, changing his stealthy animalistic tread for that of his noisier, less graceful half.
“Hello? Is someone there?” she cried out, and her husky voice was like a balm to his soul.
Grrr.
Keeton paused, allowing the dulcet tones to wash over him. Something was different about this woman. Sure, he had his fair share of trysts. Nothing but bodies in the dark to satisfy an itch, a natural urge he could no more control than he could his need to shift.
He should not think such thoughts. Could not afford to even imagine indulging in the seductive female who needed his help. No. He would simply walk her back to her camp. She must have come on a tour or some such thing. They were frequent this time of year, but never came this far out.
He should know, having spent the last eighteen months alone in his cabin. No one for miles except the occasional hikers who wandered too far from civilization to prove something to themselves. Keeton had no time for those people. No time for liars and fools.
She’s neither, his beast whispered insistently in his mind’s eye. But he refused to heed the animal. Just as he refused to acknowledge the hardness in his jeans at the sight of her soft, flushed skin when he made himself known.
“Oh! You scared me.” She laid a hand over her chest and closed her eyes, relief easing her muscles.
He wondered what she would do if he told her. He was the most dangerous thing out there. Cocking his head to the side, he watched as she struggled to stand. Not quite trusting himself to touch her just yet. His Lion was far too close to the surface for that.
“I’m so glad you’re here. I twisted my dang ankle,” she said, still talking although he hadn’t uttered a word. “And I think I heard a bear or something just a little while ago. Damn near peed my pants.”
The strange woman exhaled a breath and leaned over to grab her bulky backpack. She shouldn’t try that on such slippery terrain, but before he could utter a warning, she was halfway to tipping over and landing on that gorgeous rump of hers.
Shit.
He darted forward on sure feet. Never had a problem with the leaves and rocks himself, but he was a Shifter, and this was his territory. Keeton knew the terrain like the back of his hand.
“Oooh!”
“Here, I got you,” he grunted, and the raspy sound of his voice surprised even his own ears.
The stranger looked up at him with enormous hazel eyes, the color of which he couldn’t pin down. One moment green, the next russet, circled in black with flecks of gold throughout. He was hypnotized. Forgot he was holding her for a moment, but the feel of her soft, honey scented skin snug against his was enough to wake his innermost longings.
“Thank you,” she whispered the words, the soft rustle like leaves in the wind.
Her voice had a calming effect on his Mountain Lion, but her ultra feminine body, well, that had the opposite effect on him. Too hastily, Keeton pushed away from her, causing the petite beauty to wobble unsteadily.
“Sorry,” she murmured, clutching his flannel with her fingers.
He should’ve let her fall, but there was no fucking way he’d do such a thing. He steadied her with firm hands, stepping back so as not to brush his suddenly rock hard cock against her softness. She was everything beautiful and bright that he’d forgotten about the world when he’d locked himself away in the mountains.
“I’m Marilena, but everyone calls me Lena for short. It’s spelled L-E-N-A but pronounced lay-nah. Throws everyone, but my dad was Italian.”
She shrugged and cleared her throat. Perhaps she was uncomfortable with silences, but Keeton had grown used to them. He simply watched as she bit her lower lip, releasing her hold on his shirt. She was still wobbly, so he held out his hand. An offering that she took with a grateful smile.
Keeton grunted indifferently, but it was a ruse. A storm of lightning like zings zipped up and down his body. Like electrical currents zapping him into awareness. He grabbed the backpack before she could reach for it once again, shrugging it onto his free shoulder while keeping a firm grip on her waist.
“Thanks,” she repeated, but he couldn’t talk just yet.
Keeton was trembling from head to toe. His heart was pounding so hard, he thought the blasted muscle was going to beat him to death.
What was she just talking about?
Her name?
Marilena.
Beautiful.
“Keeton!” He snapped. “What?” He closed his eyes and took a calming breath before turning their full force on her. Fuck, but she was so lovely. He pushed the Lion down, willing the creature to be still when he opened his mouth next to speak.
“My name is Keeton Grey.”
