J. Geissinger - Shadow’s Edge

The forest called with the sweetest song she had ever heard in her life.

A song of sanctuary. A song of home.

Jenna pushed off from the earth and began to run in great, loping strides to the trees, her feet a blur beneath her as the welcoming arms of the forest came up fast.

She didn’t look back.

He followed because he had to. His feet gave him no other choice.

Leander ran after Jenna, pumping his arms and legs hard as she became a blur of white streaking over the open meadow toward the trees. The animal in him roared to life, clawing out of his skin. He Shifted to panther in midstride, the rain now bouncing from sleek black fur and compact muscle, never breaking his gait.

His gaze never left her. Against the dark day and the darker forest ahead, she was impossible to miss.

She was pure white, as white as the most perfect pearl, exotic and luminous and rare.

He had heard of the legends of white panthers, members of their tribe in that lost, long-ago paradise where they lived like gods before it all came crumbling down to ruin. But to see her with his own eyes, to feel her—

He was so astonished he couldn’t catch his breath.

The forest was gloomy and damp and thick with fog. Low tendrils of it swam just above the ground, higher up it swallowed the tops of the trees in a dense layer the pale light of day barely penetrated. This was the most ancient part of the woods, one never before breached by humans, hidden like a pristine jewel in the heart of the New Forest. The trees grew to heights of over three hundred feet, the forest floor was buried beneath a foot-deep layer of perfumed leaves and moss and pine needles, the silence was unbroken save for the calls of birds and the sound of water dripping from low boughs to pool in clear puddles or sink into the earth.

Far ahead of him, Jenna moved through the forest like a ghost, pale and beautiful against the dark woods, navigating the dense undergrowth as if she knew its every secret. She left not a single leaf disturbed in her wake. Only the fog moved around her feet, parting in silence as she passed swiftly by, swirling into eddies of pale, clinging mist.

He craned his neck forward and stretched his legs as far as they would go, his paws sinking into the loam underfoot, the ache of muscle and sinew making him bare his teeth as he pushed himself to his limit to follow her. She was swift and lithe, undulating with expert and beautiful precision over the remains of fallen trees, around thick trunks and glistening dark foliage, moving like an ivory zephyr through the ancient trees.

He’d never seen anything move so fast. He’d never seen anything so beautiful.

He stayed carefully behind her, listening to the patter of rainfall over dirt and stone as they moved through the forest, watching his beautiful phantom move like the wind, the scent of upturned earth and potent female in his nostrils, his body alight and attuned to her every move.

She needed to see. She needed to get high and look out over her forest.

There. That tree ahead. Huge, towering, trunk like a skyscraper, boughs up high lost in mist.

She leapt from the forest floor and landed easily on the tree trunk twenty feet up, claws sinking deep into fragrant bark. She held still for a fraction of a second, testing her balance, feeling the wind slip through her fur. She raised her head and looked toward the sky, toward the rain-soaked canopy of boughs and branches filtering wan light from overheard.

She pushed off, climbing straight up.

When she could climb no farther, she jumped out to a high branch as wide as a king-size bed and landed on all four paws, dropping into a perfect, silent crouch. She padded out toward the end of the branch as it curved up through an opening in the dense mass of leaves, the bark cool and rough beneath her feet.

An unobstructed view of the forest was spread before her like a banquet. She feasted her newly strong eyes on the rainbow beauty of sunlight glistening off wet treetops, rolling hills sapphire-dark with rain and mist and groves of fir trees, black woods and emerald moors and meadows thick with wildflowers bowing under the weight of rainfall.

She sat back on her haunches, lifted her nose to the west wind, and closed her eyes.

Owls nestled snugly into hollowed trees. Deer, close by, nosed through piles of dry leaves to capture fallen berries. Squirrels scabbered over bark, a woodpecker’s staccato tattoo against a trunk, moss and stone and centuries of undergrowth. The scant vibrations of all the creatures for miles around. Rainfall, lighter now, pattered down through the canopy, slacking. The scent of fresh water slipped past banks of vetiver grass, over sandy, granite-strewn bottoms: the river Avon.

She was awash in the forest, immersed in it, drunk with it. She never wanted to leave.

Then a new scent, darker and warmer than the others, a faint touch of spice under the animal smell of hot blood and wet fur. A new heartbeat pulsing in time with her own.

She turned her head and opened her eyes to find him crouched there, at the base of the branch. His long tail snaked back and forth behind him. Canny almond-shaped eyes fixed sharp and questioning on her face.

And this was startling: the beauty of this creature was even more tangible and pleasing to her than anything else, even the entirety of her vast and pristine forest. The huge, wedge-shaped head with the long, tapering nose and even longer silver whiskers that caught the shadowed light, the fur shining so charcoal black it carried a tinge of royal purple, the body so powerful and muscled.

This animal was magnificent. Blessed with an undeniable, hard grace.

She leapt to all fours in one smooth motion and began to walk toward him, moving ever so slowly, carefully. Curiosity called, something warm and willful sang through her blood.

A sound in her throat now. A huffed chirrup, a questioning tone.

He made a low, rolling sound of acknowledgment that rumbled through his chest. She crept closer and stopped just a foot away.

He eased forward, elegant and deadly, perfectly silent on four huge, silken paws, and brought his face to hers. With the barest of pressure, he rubbed his cheek against her face. His whiskers passed over hers with an electric current that was close to a shock.

Startled, she drew in a breath and froze.

He froze as well, his gaze slanted down to hers. Another heartbeat, another moment that she didn’t move, then he slowly lowered his head to hers again, stroking his cheek against her face. She closed her eyes and accepted the pressure, let him rake his face against hers a little harder, until he stepped closer and they were shoulder to shoulder and he was making a low growl of purring pleasure deep in his chest.

And oh, this feeling, this aching, this burning bright happiness—she’d never known anything like it.

She opened her eyes, took a sharp, cold breath into her lungs, and Shifted back to woman.

“Don’t,” she gasped, tottering with her hands held out, trying to find her balance again with human feet that seemed outrageously weak and frail.

He Shifted as well, a flash of black dissolving into vapor, which coalesced into the naked, muscled form she was beginning to know so well. He reached out and caught both her wrists as she flailed, teetering dangerously close to the sloping edge of the massive branch. A cool breeze ripe with moisture and the bouquet of the forest caught her hair, blowing from behind to lift it in heavy tendrils that reached out and flickered over his chest, caressing.

His voice was a spare, low growl as he fixed his fingers hard around her wrists. “Don’t what?”

She looked at him. Time slowed to a standstill.

She looked at his beautiful face and his hooded eyes, staring aslant at her through a fringe of coal-black lashes. She looked at his shining jet hair stirring around his shoulders, one long strand caught at the corner of his full lips. She looked at his resplendent, nude body, dusky skin patterned with shadow and light, and nearly stopped breathing.