“My name.” He used his tongue to trace the lush temptation of her lower lip. “Say it again.”
“Talon.”
“I like to hear it on your lips,” he said, kissing the line of her jaw before heading down the silken skin of her throat.
Her nails bit into his shoulders as she arched in pleasure beneath him. “What are you doing to me?”
“Darling, I’ll do anything you want,” he muttered, forgetting where they were and, more importantly, who she was.
Nothing mattered but the sharp-edged hunger that clawed at him whenever he was close to this female.
He reached the neckline of her sweatshirt, impatiently using his chin to push it aside so he could trace her collarbone with his lips.
“Oh,” she breathed, rubbing against the thick thrust of his erection.
He growled, about to reach down and yank off the loose bottom of her sweats when his gaze caught sight of a tiny mark at the bottom of her collarbone.
It was like being doused in icy-cold water.
One second all he could think about was the savage need that was pounding through his body, and the next he was pushing himself upright and shoving shaking hands through his tousled hair.
“Shit,” he rasped.
She raised herself onto her elbows. “What?”
His gaze remained glued to the birthmark that marred the perfect ivory of her skin. “A raven.”
She flinched. As if he’d physically struck her.
“It’s not a raven, it’s a birthmark.”
“The symbol of evil.” The words left his lips before he could consider their impact on Isi.
Hell, he was a Hunter, not a Suit.
“Evil?” Isi surged to her feet, grabbing a hefty stick off the ground to swing toward his head with a magnificent fury. “Get out of here, you son of a bitch.”
Angry with himself for having forgotten he intended to treat this female as the enemy, and potentially putting his people in danger, he turned to walk away.
He needed some distance to pull his head out of his ass and start thinking clearly.
Or at least try to ease his raging hard-on.
“Gladly,” he snarled, headed back to his parents’ cottage.
The branch went whizzing past his head, grazing his ear. “And stay the hell away,” she shouted.
Turning his head, he sent her a last glare. “You leave the Wildlands and the elders will kill you. Make no mistake about it,” he growled.
She flipped him off. “Bastard.”
Talon stormed away.
For the first time he felt like a bastard.
CHAPTER THREE
Isi woke with a weary groan to find the late morning sun pouring through her open window.
Momentarily disoriented, she pushed herself to a sitting position, glancing in confusion around the room painted a cheery yellow.
What the hell? This wasn’t the room she’d been using for the past month.
It took a minute before the memories from the night before slammed into her.
Talon.
The bastard.
Talon the Bastard. Yep. That suited him to perfection.
Shoving herself out of the bed, she stomped her way to the attached bathroom.
Last night she’d hovered at the edge of the Wildlands for over an hour before the sickness had driven her back to the cottage. Her every instinct had warned her to return to New Orleans and take the first bus the hell out of town, but she wasn’t entirely sure that the threat of the elders wasn’t real.
Finally she’d had no choice but to return to the cottage where there was some measure of relief from the constant sickness.
Although not as much as there had been during the night, she realized as she quickly showered and pulled on a robe. Which could only mean that Talon was no longer in the cottage.
Good, she savagely told herself, entering the room he’d taken over, to gather her clothes and take them to her new, painfully sunny room. She’d rather be sick than have to endure his repulsive company.
Pretending she actually did find him repulsive, Isi pulled on a pair of jeans and skimpy top that hit just below the gentle swell of her breasts. She smiled with a grim defiance as she realized the top was cut low enough to display her evil birthmark. Then, spiking her blue-streaked hair, she headed out the door and to the clinic where her sister continued to fight for her life.
Acutely aware of the cats who trailed behind her at a discreet distance, she followed the narrow path that led from the isolated marsh to the village, keeping her head high.
She’d learned from day one that her presence in the Wildlands attracted unwelcome attention.
Some curious, some hopeful, but most filled with a predatory hunger that assured her they were just waiting for the opportunity to rip her to shreds.
Not the nicest neighbors a girl could have, but sadly they weren’t the worst.
She’d run away from the orphanage when she was barely fourteen to live on the streets of Chicago.
Tough to top that.
Reaching the clinic, she entered the wooden structure through a side door and headed directly to her sister’s room at the back of the building.
Unlike human hospitals, there was no stench of antiseptic or disinfectant. Instead the air was laced with the scent of healing plants and potions as well as the exotic musk that was unique to each Pantera.
There was also a decided lack of sterile white walls and linoleum floors. In this clinic the walls were paneled in rich cherry wood with floors covered by handwoven rugs.
Pushing open the door to her sister’s room, she stepped inside, not surprised to find Raphael sitting beside the bed.
The male refused to leave his mate’s side unless it was a matter of dire urgency.
Rising to his feet at Isi’s entrance, Raphael motioned for her to take his seat beside the bed.
“Good morning, Isi.”
She hurriedly perched on the edge of the chair, always a little on edge around the man.
He might have sworn to protect her, but he was clearly ready to snap. She didn’t want to be around if something happened to Ashe.
“How is she?” Isi asked, focusing on the dark-haired woman lying in the wooden bed, covered by a hand-stitched quilt.
“She’s holding her own,” Raphael said, the weariness in his voice drawing her gaze to his haggard features.
Christ, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“Why don’t you go rest?” she offered. “I’ll sit with Ashe.”
There was a brief hesitation, as if he was debating whether or not to trust Isi alone with his beloved mate. Then, obviously realizing he was near collapse, he gave a reluctant nod.
“I’ll be just down the hall.”
The Pantera leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his mate’s lips before turning to leave the room and gently closing the door behind him.
Alone with the female they claimed was her sister, Isi studied the pale, perfect features that held only a faint resemblance to her own. Over the past month she spent a part of each day with Ashe, usually watching her sleep, although there were times when the other woman would wake long enough for a short conversation.
Still, Ashe remained more a stranger than a member of her family.
Which suited Isi just fine.
Concentrating on her sister with a fierce intensity that didn’t allow any stray thoughts of Talon the Bastard, she was aware the second Ashe’s lashes twitched and her hand unconsciously reached for her mate.
“Raphael?”
Isi leaned forward, lightly grasping the outstretched hand. “It’s Isi.”
The thick lashes lifted to reveal beautiful brown eyes. “Sister.”