Leopard 03 - Burning Wild

kitchen toward the open back door. Joshua followed, warnings rumbling in his throat.
    Emma gathered her strength, her resolve. Once outside the door, she would force Rory to kill her, or he would drop her. If she struggled, Joshua would leap on Rory and if she was still alive she could aid him, but she couldn’t be taken far from the house. Who knew where his partner waited?
    The male leopard felt the female tense and knew she was about to resist again, so he opened his jaws and shut them instantaneously, sinking his teeth deeper for a better hold. Warm blood filled his mouth as the night air hit his face. The wind whipped through his fur and the rain slashed at him. The female gasped, her sides heaving, her lungs struggling for air. He was very aware of the male following him, his rival, and knew he had to drag her away from the others in order to give himself fighting room.
    The blow hit him from the side, tremendously powerful, enormously strong, as a third male entered the fray with no warning. Even the wind had betrayed him, masking the presence of the huge, fit male with golden, savage eyes that held killing fury. Rory lost his grip on Emma as something inside of him broke and his cat screamed, twisting in the air to come down in a crouch, prepared to fight to the death.
    Drake’s frantic call to Jake earlier had put him on the road immediately, uncaring of the ferocity of the storm. He had arrived to find the scent of male leopards overpowering and Emma’s female screaming in pain. Then he heard Drake’s hoarse shout and knew he’d gone down as well. He shed his clothes as fast as he could, summoning the change, racing to intercept Emma’s assailant. He hit him with full strength, catching him off guard as Rory emerged from the house, holding Emma by her throat.
    Jake swung around in a half circle, changing his direction in midair to follow where his opponent went, arching his supple spine, sweeping out with a lateral sideswipe to catch Rory again, ripping through the thick fur, past muscles and sinew, down to the bone. With the scent of Em-ma’s blood filling his nostrils, Jake nearly went mad, leaping onto Rory’s back, digging his claws in and raking at the soft underbelly while he struggled for a death grip on the throat.
    Rory fought back ferociously, the two cats twisting and rolling in a fight to the death. Emma staggered to her feet and turned toward the males, took a step in an effort to join with her mate in defeating their enemy, but she went down again. Rory, spun around and rushed her, his one hope of escape.
    In that split second, Jake knew he had one recourse—to trust his leopard. He gave himself up to the snarling male, relinquishing control, allowing the leopard to merge fully into his mind. His leopard was on Rory in a second, faster than Jake thought possible, taking him down like prey, sinking his teeth for the suffocating kill and holding him utterly still, dominant, a male leopard in his prime completely unleashed.
    19
    RORY thrashed and clawed at the earth, but Jake held on relentlessly. He had embraced his leopard, given it full and free rein, and found that he was in as much control as ever. He was just as much a part of the leopard’s form as he was in his own form. The leopard was no crueler than he was, no less dominant yet no more so. No matter the form, he was still Jake with good and bad traits, and just as much control.
    He held the other male until the breath left the lungs and the heart ceased beating. And he waited still as the dead weight slumped to the ground, holding on to ensure there was no mistake and the man who would have killed or taken Emma was truly dead. Jake released him and padded over to Emma’s leopard form. She lay bleeding from her throat, neck, shoulder and sides. Joshua crouched beside her but moved out of his way as he approached.
    Jake shifted, uncaring that the rain poured down on his naked form. He lifted Emma into his arms and carried her back into the house. Her leopard looked up at him, shaking her head weakly. He felt muscles contorting as she shifted in his arms. He was amazed at how she was able to do it, injured as she was. She gasped, her cries muffled against his chest as her body protested the additional strain of shifting.
    “Where are the children, honey?” There was a note of urgency in his voice.
    “Safe room,” she croaked, her hand fluttering to her sore throat.
    He relaxed until he stepped inside the hall. “What the