Her training hadn’t stopped there. He worked with her on shifting fast. Shifting on the run. Disposing of her clothes in record time practically as she shifted, so she had every advantage. He’d made her practice over and over, hundreds of times until she was absolutely smooth and fast at it.

Still there was more. His male had taught her female how to maneuver, to get under her opponent, to avoid the stranglehold of his teeth. How to use her claws to her advantage, to turn in midair and to land in a defensive or offensive position.

Eli had cared enough to prepare her. Still, when he reluctantly told her Jake and he could bring Rafe down with her help, she’d felt sick inside. Part of it, she conceded, was that Eli had tried to force her to help them when he worked for the DEA. A tiny, tiny part of her was afraid he’d set her up again. She knew better. Deep down, she did. She knew better. But the nagging little monster that told her men like Eli couldn’t possibly love her had reared its ugly head.

Still, all that aside, and that was clearly her own sad little issue, why was it that she felt the need to protect Rafe? He was a killer. He needed to be brought to justice. Every minute he was loose in the world, innocent people could be killed just for his pleasure. His enjoyment. He liked to hunt them. He liked to kill. He would come back from his trips to the swamp almost euphoric.

And he hadn’t been the only one. She knew, even if Eli and Jake managed to kill Rafe, there were at least three more men under him who hunted victims let loose in the swamp with him. Women mostly, but occasionally someone who double-crossed Rafe.

My little leopard, can I just stay here, tucked into the safety of your protection, and never come out again?

If she could have, she would have put her hand on the animal and just held on. She needed something to hold on to. Someone to hold on to. To steady her. To tell her it was okay to the do the right thing and stop Rafe. That she wouldn’t be abandoning him as she’d felt so abandoned.

Her throat ached. Her eyes burned. The little leopard faltered. Stopped. Stood, head down in the middle of the path, shaking. The rain continued to pour down. At once the male moved close, rubbing his fur along the female’s side. Nuzzling her. Chuffing softly in inquiry. He extended his neck, chin on top of her head protectively.