CATARINA stilled inside the small female as she watched the much larger, brutal male crouch low, his eyes fixed on her with deadly intent. The eye she’d injured wept blood, but rather than looking hurt, the large cat appeared evil. Invincible.

She refused to turn tail and run. If she was going to die, she would die fighting, keeping Rafe away from Eli for as long as she was able. More, if she injured him, she’d be helping Eli, because she knew, without a doubt in her mind, that Eli would be coming for her. He had wanted her to learn to fight so she could break away and flee, or if that failed, to stay alive long enough for Eli to come for her.

Catarina stared defiantly into the male’s green-yellow eyes. Deep inside, she felt her little female coil. Become ready. She waited in absolute stillness, none of the fidgeting Rafe hated so much. Fidgeting would get her killed. She needed to see every nuance, every change in expression. When he charged, he was going to try to end her fast—or at least end her rebellion.

His roped muscles bunched beneath the loose fur. He crawled, belly low to the ground, slinking forward an inch or two and then freezing again. His muzzle pulled back in a snarling grimace, showing his teeth. His ears had gone flat, pulled to the side of his head to protect them during a fight. The eyes never changed. Never left the little female.

Heart pounding, Catarina waited, forcing air through her lungs, holding her female in place, soothing her with the knowledge that their mate was alive and would be coming soon. Eli had prepared her for this. His male had prepared her female. She just had to do exactly what she’d been taught, and that meant conquering the terror that threatened to grip her, threatened to freeze her in place.

Rafe’s male’s tail switched. The wind ruffled his fur. She watched his eyes. The hatred and anger receded just a little, and Catarina knew Rafe was fighting for dominance. The cat wanted her female’s submission. Rafe didn’t mind beating her, or allowing his male to beat up the female leopard, but he still didn’t want her dead, and that was an advantage—a small one—but still an advantage.

The male launched himself at her. His speed was breathtaking. The female tried to whip around, out of the way, but the leopard anticipated her movement and was on her in seconds, slamming her to the ground with his heavy body, his claws ripping into her sides, raking deep as his teeth sank into her shoulder, just behind her neck.

The pain was excruciating. Her leopard went still. Trembled. She was too new, too inexperienced, and the male was frightening. Terrifying. She simply disappeared, allowing her human to take her place.