Page 41 of Beasts of Mine

The gleam in his eye made me suspicious before he'd even settled his wings.

“No,” I told the macaw, lowering the camera into my lap while I pointed one warning finger toward him.

I haven't even said anything yet, the macaw complained, shifting his claws along the branch as his feathers fluffed indignantly around his neck.

“You were thinking something,” I told the macaw, narrowing my eyes while he stared down at me with exaggerated innocence.

I'm always thinking something, the macaw replied proudly, standing taller on his branch as though that were an accomplishment rather than the exact reason I didn't trust him.

“That is exactly what concerns me,” I told the bird, letting my hand fall back toward the camera in my lap. Beside me, the leopard lifted his head and fixed the macaw with a much less amused expression.

Go somewhere else, the leopard told the macaw, his deep voice carrying enough warning that the bird leaned backward and tightened his claws around the branch. The macaw looked down at him before slowly turning toward me, and something in his posture immediately brightened.

See? the macaw asked me, bouncing once on the branch while his long tail feathers shifted behind him.

I already regretted engaging.

“See what?” I asked the macaw, tilting my head back as I watched him with growing suspicion.

He watches you, the macaw explained, flicking his gaze pointedly toward the leopard beside me while one wing shifted against his body. A low growl came from Cat's chest, and the macaw moved several inches higher along the branch but made no effort to leave.

He waits for you too, the macaw added, sounding delighted that he'd apparently found reinforcements for today's ongoing argument.

“Everyone has made me very aware of that today,” I told the bird, glancing toward the leopard with a teasing smile while his ears flattened at my obvious enjoyment.

He protects you, the macaw continued, leaning farther forward as though he had saved his strongest evidence for last. The leopard rose in one smooth movement, powerful shoulders lifting beneath his spotted coat, and the macaw finally decided a little more distance might be wise as he hopped onto a higher branch.

“Don't eat him,” I told the leopard, reaching out without thinking and placing my hand against his shoulder as he prepared to move.

He stopped beneath my touch so quickly that the ease of it registered only afterward. My palm remained against warm fur, the solid muscle beneath it reminding me just how much power he carried without making me afraid of it anymore. Less than a week ago, I'd barely been able to touch him without being acutely aware of his teeth, claws, and the fact that he could seriously hurt me if he chose to.

Now reaching for him had become automatic.

I hadn't needed to check an injury or wondered whether he'd tolerate being touched. I'd simply known he would stop if I asked him to. The realization settled quietly through me as my fingers moved once through the short fur covering his shoulder. He turned his head and watched my hand before looking back at my face, and I withdrew it more slowly than I'd intended.

You protect Red, the leopard observed, lowering himself back onto the ground while his attention remained on me instead of the bird he'd been threatening seconds earlier.

“Only because he's too stupid to recognize when he's about to get eaten,” I told the leopard, glancing toward the safer branch where the macaw had taken refuge.

I heard that, the macaw complained, fluffing his feathers indignantly while he stared down at me.

“You were meant to,” I told the macaw, unable to keep a smile from my face as the bird clicked his beak in response. The macaw looked between us once, then again, taking enough time with the second glance that suspicion immediately crept over me. His feathers shifted, and the pleased little bounce he gave on the branch was one I'd already learned not to trust.

“What?” I asked the macaw, tightening my fingers loosely around the camera in my lap as I braced myself for whatever he'd decided to share.

You really don't know, the macaw said, sounding amazed as he tilted his head and looked at me as though I were the most confusing creature he'd encountered all day.

“Apparently not, considering everyone keeps saying that without explaining what I'm supposed to know,” I told the bird, frustration mixing with curiosity while I glanced briefly toward the leopard beside me.

His ears had flattened again.

Don't, the leopard warned the macaw, his deep voice sharpening while his body tensed beneath the dappled shade. The macaw bounced once on his branch, completely undeterred by the warning now that he was safely out of reach.

He would make a good mate, the macaw announced, pointing his beak directly toward the leopard with all the confidence of someone offering an obvious solution.

I stared up at him.

“Oh, not you too,” I told the macaw, letting my head fall back against the root behind me while disbelief and amusement battled for control of my expression.