Page 14 of Bad Blood Panther

He felt himself being pulled back towards the doorway like Jenny was a goddamn magnet. He was breathing faster, and his skin itched like it was too small, and his chest felt hot and he was two seconds from going in there, diving under the covers and groping her in her sleep, which would add “evil sex fiend” to “homicidal maniac” on his resume.

Enough of that shit. He was not standing naked in her doorway with a boner, watching her sleep. That was not cool at all. He might be an asshole, and insane, but he was still one notch above sexual assault and pervy naked peeping. He better go kill something instead.

He glanced out the living-room window. It was the middle of the night, and all the tasty nocturnal panther snacks would still be wandering the forest. Hunting would settle his cat—and make him forget about how sweet and lickable Jenny was looking.

He went quietly outside. Even when he Changed, though, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jenny. Wanting to see her cat, to see if she was as pretty as a panther as she was as a human.

His cat gave another one of those mrrrow noises, this time out loud. Before he could stop himself, he padded onto the porch and put his paws up on the windowsill of her room, looking inside.

With his cat vision, he could see her clearly. Pretty. Soft. Bring her food.

Huh. That was the most sense his cat had ever made. Well, not really. Bringing Jenny dead animals was stupid. But at least it was a complete sentence.

He pulled himself away from the window and ghosted through the woods, following scents. Hunting made him feel less edgy, but as he ran through the forest, he slipped more and more into panther thoughts. Wondering what animals Jenny’s panther liked to hunt. What tasted good to her. How to make her happy.

Right. As if he could make anyone happy.

Then he caught the scent of a fat rabbit.

Mmm. Rabbits usually weren’t out at night. He let his cat have him, trailing his prey, pouncing and snapping its neck.

Without thinking, he picked up the dead rabbit in his mouth and carried it back to the trailer. He laid his offering carefully under her window. Brought food. Mates like food.

And then he went off to find something else to hunt, something to assuage the longing for blood.

Jenny stood at the window, watching Xander’s lithe panther form disappear into the woods as silently as he came.

She didn’t know how much of him was in there, when his cat was out. The rest of the crew had told her it varied—sometimes he knew exactly what he was doing, and sometimes it seemed like Xander wasn’t there at all.

But he’d brought her a gift. He’d hunted for her, and brought his kill to lay at her feet.

Tears prickled her eyes. She didn’t know if he’d remember what he’d done, but somewhere inside him, his cat felt the bond.

Mate.

She leaned her head against the glass of the window, feeling it hard and cool against her face. Sloan’s words reverberated in her mind.

She’s his mate.

This was the last thing she’d expected. The most she’d hoped for—the most she’d wanted—was for Xander to take her and Brandon under his protection and advocate for them with his alpha, so they could join the Bad Blood Crew and be safe from Alton and the Broken Hill Clan.

She’d hoped he’d help find them a place to live, provide for them until she could get some kind of job so she wouldn’t have to be completely dependent on him.

That he’d maybe even try to be a father to Brandon, if he wasn’t too dangerous—and if he gave a shit about his son.

But a fated mating—this bone-deep knowledge that they belonged together—no. It would be messy and emotional and complicated—all the things she’d promised herself this wouldn’t be. Sure, she’d dreamed about bonding with him way back when. But it all seemed so romantic then—before he Turned and lost his mind.

What if Xander resisted the bond? What if he was too damaged to surrender to it?

What if he was too out of control? What would she do then? How could she bring Brandon here if it wasn’t safe?

But how could she leave Xander now? Losing his fated mate could drive his already damaged animal over the edge. Flynn might even have to put him down.

Her heart felt like it was being torn in two.

She opened the window and raised the screen. The smell of blood, a fresh kill, was thick in the air.

If a male panther brought a female a kill, and she refused or ignored it, it meant she was rejecting him as a mate. But if she accepted him, she would eat some of what he provided.

Jenny tried to use her head, to be rational, to make a smart decision for her and Brandon.

But it didn’t work. She shed her clothes and climbed out the window, slipping into her panther skin. The rabbit smelled delicious—fresh and succulent.

She tore into it, savoring the kill. It tasted even better because it was a gift from her mate.