I knew I couldn’t stay in town overnight. There were too manyNo Overnight Parkingsigns. I couldn’t afford the ticket or the tow. And sleeping in a car where someone might notice was never a good call.
I needed a spot that was quiet and out of the way.
I drove until the buildings thinned and the road narrowed, following a turnoff that looked barely used. The pavement gave way to packed dirt, and my tires crunched softly as I slowed.
Signs were posted—something about construction access and authorized vehicles. But they were half hidden by brush, and nobody was around.
The rain picked up, drumming harder against the roof as I pulled off to the side where the ground flattened just enough to park.
I shut off the engine and sat there for a moment, listening to it tick as it cooled.
Just one night. That was all I needed. A dry, quiet place to sleep until morning. I’d move on as soon as the sun came up.
I climbed into the back seat, tugged my blanket around my shoulders, and snagged my book from my backpack. I’d read until the light faded, then pile on extra clothes to make sure I stayed warm while I slept.
I didn’t notice how still the forest had gone. Or that I’d chosen a spot that was about to change everything.
2
GARNER
Pre-dawn light filtered through the trees as I prowled the perimeter of the construction site, my senses alert. The world had been washed clean by last night’s storm. Rain clung to pine needles and soaked into the earth, making any lingering scents more noticeable.
This was my favorite time of day—when I could let my cougar free without worrying about being spotted. My muscles ate up the ground in long, silent strides. My paws sank into damp soil without a sound. Powerful and controlled. Exactly as I was meant to be.
This wasn’t a patrol I had to think about. My body knew the route as well as my mind did. Every rise and dip of the land, boundary marker, and place where trouble might try to creep in if I wasn’t watching.
The land had become my responsibility when my family’s construction company bought it, but I’d considered it mine long before then. It was only thirty minutes from the wilderness my pack called home, and my beast had always been drawn to this area.
I leaped over a fallen branch. The storm had left its mark. Mud churned where runoff had cut too fast through a slope. There were fresh tracks from a deer near the creek. I cataloged it all without slowing, my instincts sorting threat from harmless as easily as breathing.
Then I caught it.
Disturbed ground near the access road. Tire tracks where there shouldn’t have been any.
I slowed to a prowl, my senses sharpening as my cougar lifted his head and dragged the morning air deep into his lungs. Then a sound tore through my chest—an instinctive cry I’d never felt before.
Something had changed. And my cougar knew it before I did.
I took one more step forward, and my cougar froze mid-stride, muscles going rigid beneath my skin. Every instinct I had was locked tight.
My mind finally caught on to what the scent was.
Human.
Female.
Sweet in a way that made me greedy. Because she was mine.
The last word wasn’t just a possibility. It was a certainty.
My hackles lifted as instinct slammed into me so hard it stole my breath. My cougar surged forward, his focus narrowed to a single truth.
Mate.
My beast wanted to find her. To put my body between hers and the world. To circle and guard. Ensure nothing touched what belonged to us.
To claim the woman who was born to be mine.
