The largest cat, likely the mother, started moving in a fast stalk and prepared to leap off the ground to attack.
Evalle braced herself for sharp claws and fangs ripping into her body.
The roar of an animal that sounded much larger than any of these cats shook the trees surrounding her clearing.
Power burst into the open space, flowing between her and the closest cat, and shoving the attacking feline back. The other jaguars perked up at the noise, alert to a new player.
She’d have liked to mark that as a positive sign, but the sound of heavy footsteps bearing down on her warned she had something far deadlier than these animals to face.
Someone who wanted more than her death.
Tristan would want to see her writhe in pain.
A giant beast shoved small trees aside with no more effort than if they had been saplings. He stood taller and greater in bulk than her Alterant beast form and stomped forward on feet twice the size of a human’s. Forty feet away, he paused and dropped his head back, roaring a long, guttural sound.
Chills crawled up and down Evalle’s spine in spite of the damp heat.
The jungle cats skulked away unharmed but clearly intimidated by the beast in ragged jeans that actually fit his huge legs. Where had Tristan gotten clothes?
He stood with hunched shoulders, cracked lips pulled back to show uneven, razor-sharp fangs. Long arms dangled at his sides, fingers tipped with curled claws. Shaggy locks of matted, dirty-blond hair hung in clumps between scaly patches and leathery skin that covered the vicious angles of his face. Beneath a jutted forehead, a broad nose flared and black eyes glowed hot in the darkness.
Black? Not bright green?
A terrifying creature for anything or anyone to fight.
But Tristan hadn’t let the jaguars rip her to pieces.
Could that mean he would give her a chance to talk before he killed her himself?
She had little time and a tiny hope that she could convince him to listen to her. “Hi, Tristan. I know we parted under less than ideal circumstances.”
He pulled his lips back in what she thought might be his version of a smile or a grin. Maybe he was glad to have company. She would be.
For lack of a better response, Evalle smiled, too. “Speaking of that—”
He lifted his head and released a more terrifying roar than the last one.
The entire jungle fell silent as a tomb.
Bad analogy.
When Tristan looked at her this time his eyes bulged with the need for retribution. He growled and his fangs dripped saliva.
Her empathic senses picked up energy coming from him that dispelled her previous ideas. She’d completely misread his expression. He had been smiling all right, but not because of the chance to entertain unexpected company.
He wanted blood. Hers.
She spun around and took off the way she’d come, running in one direction, then another.
Pounding stomped the ground behind her with amazing speed.
He could use his power within this cage, which meant he could kill her with a strike. Why hadn’t he?
Because a quick kill clearly wouldn’t appease his need for revenge.
Evalle had covered a mile of running and fighting her way through areas strangled with dense growth when she caught the toe of her boot and fell to her knees. Mud splashed her face and arms. The palms of her hands burned raw from scrapes.
The steady pounding of footsteps gained on her.
