She could barely speak with the ache in her jaw and mouth. Her skin felt raw, every nerve ending inflamed. Her womb clenched, and feathers of arousal teased her thighs and belly. The roaring in her head nearly drowned out the sound of Mary’s voice. She could barely hear her, as if from a great distance. Her vision was fully cat now, her hands curling until she was afraid to wait for Conner.

“I have to go.” Her voice was no longer her own, strangled and growling, her throat reshaping.

Fur rippled and receded along her arms, down her legs and left her body crawling with sensation. Flames licked over her stomach as her muscles rippled as if alive. The burning increased until she was nearly squirming. The light robe hurt where it touched her skin. Everything hurt.

Conner thrust his head in the door, took one look at her and caught her hand, yanking her under the protection of his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Mary caught at them. “Her jewelry. Put it in your bag.”

Conner took her ring while Mary unfastened her necklace and earrings. When they were safely in the pack, Isabeau breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks for everything, Mary,” Conner said.

“It was a pleasure,” Mary replied. “Have courage, Isabeau,” she added.

Conner was barefoot, and shirtless, wearing only light jeans and a pack slung around his neck. They hurried out the back door and began sprinting for the forest. Isabeau caught the low murmurs behind them, yet nothing mattered but her strange vision and the acute hearing, the myriad of unfamiliar sensations coursing through her body.

She felt as if she had a fever that kept rising until she was going to burn from the inside out. Everything felt too tight, especially her skull. The trees swallowed them and they kept running deeper into the darkness, but she wasn’t blind. There was no fear of that dark interior; instead, her body embraced the brush of leaves, the rustles of the insects, the constant, never-ending hum of the cicadas and the flitting of birds and monkeys from tree to tree overhead.

Her legs went rubbery and she found herself on the forest floor, her muscles contorting. Her hands curved and knotted, knuckles extending. Muscles contorted and once again a wave of fur raced over her body and disappeared. Bones and joints popped. She cried out, the sound foreign, her vocal cords nearly crushed under the changes in her throat.

Conner was beside her in an instant, framing her face with his hands. “Let it happen, Isabeau, don’t fight her. There’s nothing to fear.”

Tears burned in her eyes. She wanted this—she did, but the sensations were so frightening. The fear of the unknown. The twisting and gut-wrenching turning of her body inside out. Her spine bent, that long, flexible instrument that allowed her to twist and leap, to turn in midair. She breathed deeply, trying to call to her cat. Yes, she wanted this. This was part of her life with Conner, and she wanted her life with him, no matter what was thrown at them. She could do this, lie on the forest floor, her body contorting, the roaring loud in her head and the fear shimmering in her belly—for Conner. She could do anything for him.

Conner crouched beside her, shaking his head as she reached for him. “This is for you. This is who you are.”

She heard his words as if far off. Already the night was rushing at her, the sights and sounds as her body reshaped, tendons and muscles protesting and aching. Sharp stabs of aching pain cut through her, but now she could barely acknowledge the transformation as her body reshaped. She felt her cat, her other half. The lithe, compact body, the heightened senses, the raging needs, but most of all, she would never be alone. The sense of oneness was gone as her cat emerged, the body rolling for a moment in the thick vegetation, but she leapt gracefully to her feet and let out her first purring chuff.

The leopard stretched languidly—seductively—and looked over her shoulder at the large male emerging beside her. At once she moved, enticing him, rubbing her scent on trees and brush, leaving him in no doubt how very alluring she was. The male followed at a more cautious pace, knowing females had their own time line and only when she was ready would she submit to his possession.

She deliberately enticed and seduced him, rolling in the leaves, rubbing her long, beautiful coat along the bark of the trees, sending leaves scattering with a brush of her paw. Conner could see she was enjoying her newfound freedom. Living wild was a lure all of them had to face. The natural law of the rain forest was easy to follow in comparison to the human world. Greed and deceit had no place here.

Conner widened his eyes and pressed his ears forward, signaling her leopard he wanted to play. All cats enjoyed playing—even the large ones. Within moments, they were chasing one another, wrestling, and tumbling over and over in the thick carpet of leaves. They played a long game of hide-and-seek. Isabeau hid and Conner stalked and am-bushed her, pouncing on her, rolling her over in a tangle of tails and legs, and then leapt away laughing.

All the while, the female leopard continued to entice the male with her seductive vocal communication as she rolled and stretched. Conner came close, staring into her eyes in the way of the leopard male. At first she reciprocated, gazing deeply into his eyes, but when he moved slightly toward her, she rebuffed him with a growl, spitting and hissing her refusal even as she leapt away in a seductive move, inviting chase.

Conner ran beside her, rubbing his scent from one end of her fur-clad body to the other. He found her beautiful and sensual, a heady mixture to his male leopard. She moved ahead of him along the narrow trail, winding in and out among the trees, heading to the river. Every few minutes she would stop and crouch in front of him. He approached her warily. A female not ready was dangerous. He waited for her to be very certain. Each time he approached, she’d leap away, hissing, swiping at him with a paw.