Raphael grimaced. He was still reeling from the combination of shifting despite being away from the Wildlands and the shock of being yanked out of his animal form.
“I assume you were the one to trance me?”
Bayon nodded with regret. “Sorry I had to put you out. You were too hyped for me to convince you to return to human and I needed to get you away from the kill.”
Raphael waved aside the apology. Although it was rare to use the words of power that would force a Pantera back to his human form, he knew his cat would never have allowed his friend near.
“You did what you had to do.”
Bayon folded his arms over his chest, his expression grim. “The obvious question, is...why did I have to do it?”
“Damned if I know.” Raphael’s memories were hazed by the surge of adrenaline that had gripped him from the minute he’d realized Ashe had left the safety of the bar. “I was tracking Ashe when I caught sight of the stranger.” His voice thickened with fury. “When I realized he was trying to skewer her with an arrow, my cat took over.”
“Did the stranger do anything to you?”
Raphael arched a brow. “Do?”
“Shoot you with a poison arrow?” Bayon asked. “Cast a spell? Use a secret military weapon to force you to change?”
He snorted at the moronic questions. “It didn’t have anything to do with the stranger. I changed when I came close enough to feel Ashe’s aura.”
Both men glanced toward the silent woman standing in the center of the room. Instantly she held up her hands in a gesture of innocence.
“Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t do anything.”
“Could it be the child?” Bayon suggested.
Raphael frowned, considering the precise second he’d shifted.
As he’d sprinted across the dark street there had been terror that he was going to be too late. And a blinding fury that anyone would try to hurt his mate. But his last memory was the sweet smell of lush land and female magic.
Ashe’s scent.
“I’m not a medic or a philosopher,” he at last said with a shrug. “All I know is that my cat decided this female was mine at first sight and it wasn’t going to let anyone or anything hurt her.”
“Maybe the elders have some idea,” Bayon muttered. “We need to get her home.”
“My thought exactly.”
“Wait,” Ashe protested. “This town is my home, not the middle of the swamp.”
Glaring toward Bayon, who parted his lips to demand Ashe’s compliance in his usual blunt style, Raphael moved to stand directly in front of her, his finger brushing over her too-pale cheek.
“Is it truly your home, ma chère, or somewhere that you live?”
“I—”
“The truth.”
Their gazes locked, her dark eyes revealing the lonely, wounded child who’d been unwanted her entire life.
Until she’d walked across his path.
Now she would never, ever be lonely or unwanted again.
Cupping her cheek in his hand, he prepared to convince her just how desperately he needed her, when Bayon made a sound of impatience.
“I hate to interrupt, but this touching scene will have to wait.”
Raphael glared at his friend. “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”
“It’s in my job description.”
“No shit.”
Reaching into his back pocket, Bayon held out a scrap of material.
“Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
Raphael’s sensitive nose curled at the stench of rotting flesh and something else. That same ‘wrongness’ he’d smelled on the humans entering the hotel earlier. With reluctance, he flipped aside the folded material to reveal the patch of skin cut into a perfect six by six square.
He hissed in shock.
Not at the fact that he was holding a slab of flesh. He was a predator who’d just ripped out the throat of a man.
But at the sight of a brand that portrayed the outline of a raven with wings spread in front of a full moon.
“Where did you get this?”
“I returned to dispose of the body,” Bayon answered. “This was branded on his lower back.”
Beside him Ashe gave a gasp of horror. “Oh my god, is that his skin?”
Raphael flinched, wishing he could protect her from the darker side of his nature. Christ, it was bad enough she’d had to witness him tearing apart a man just a few feet away from her without having to endure the gruesome prize he held in his hands.
Unfortunately, this brand changed everything.
“The Mark of the Shakpi,” he breathed. “This is—”
“Impossible?” Bayon took the word out of his mouth. “Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.”
Ashe cleared her throat, struggling to hang on to her severely tested courage.
“What is the Mark of Shakpi?”
“It’s an ancient legend that speaks of the origin of our people,” Bayon answered, his flat tone intended to bring an end to the conversation.
Of course Raphael’s stubborn mate wasn’t going to be intimidated.
“And?”
Raphael took charge of the story. “The legend claims that the bayous gave birth to twins,” he said, sharing the oral history that every Pantera learned while still in the nursery. “Opela was able to call upon the magic of the land, eventually creating the Pantera. Her sister, Shakpi, grew jealous of Opela’s love for her children and tried to create her own children to rule the Pantera. The children twisted the magic, using it for evil, and Opela had no choice but to have her sister imprisoned.”
Ashe frowned. “Imprisoned in the swamps?”
He shrugged. “No one knows where she was sent.”
She gave a slow shake of her head. “There are a lot of stories about the bayous.”
“Only one that our people believe.”
“So you really think some mythical woman has escaped from her secret prison and is now going around branding her personal Robin Hoods?”
Did he?
Raphael glanced back down at the branded skin, a primitive fear lodging deep in his gut.
A part of him wanted to laugh it off as an old wives tale. As Ashe pointed out, there were a dozen stories that came out of the bayous.
But he didn’t laugh.
He wasn’t human. He was Pantera. A creature of magic.
And the fact that this brand was discovered when their people were unable to breed…well, it had to mean something.
“It’s one explanation,” he murmured.
She pressed a hand to her temple, as if her head was throbbing. “I really have fallen down the rabbit hole.”
Raphael gave a short, humorless laugh. He felt exactly the same way.
Six weeks ago he’d been a respected diplomat for his people, in absolute control of his life.
Now he was mated to a human, expecting a child, and growing increasingly convinced his people were being hunted by an evil, ancient goddess.
Yeah, that was one hell of a rabbit hole.
Giving a shake of his head, he thrust aside his rising panic and turned his attention to Bayon.
“The most important thing is to keep Ashe and our babe safe,” he announced.
“Agreed,” his friend swiftly agreed. Then they both froze as that now-familiar scent drifted through the open window. “Raphael.”
“I smell them,” he rasped.
Bayon pulled a gun from the holster at his lower back, his eyes glowing with power.
“Get her out of here while I distract them.”
Raphael didn’t bother to argue. Not only would it be pointless to try and keep Bayon out of a fight, but his duty was to protect Ashe and the child she carried.
Moving forward he laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll meet you back at the Wildlands. Take care.”