Even through the heat and haze of battle, the black rage rising like a tidal wave, Eli smelled Catarina’s blood. The scent was overwhelming, sickening him. He couldn’t rush to her side and see the extent of her injuries, not with Cordeau’s killing machine of a leopard determined to rip him to pieces.

Eli’s male was nearly as bad. The fight was savage. Brutal. Crushing. His male wanted not just to kill the tawny leopard, he wanted him to feel every crushing blow. Every deep slash and rake of claws. Every bite. Leopards went after the soft parts of the body in a fight, including the genitals, and Eli’s male knew every trick in the book.

Cordeau’s male relied on brute strength. He’d hunted humans. Humans without guns or weapons of any kind. Humans lost in the swamp. Mostly females who were terrified. Eli’s male had honed his battle skills in the rain forests, fighting with teams to extract kidnap victims. Roughhousing. Mock battles. Learning technique and always, always conditioning.

There was immense satisfaction in every blow he dealt to the rogue leopard. Every brutal injury he bestowed on the beast. Until Jake and the others had arrived, all in leopard form, and yet Jake had hastily shifted to human form and rushed to Catarina’s side. That meant something was wrong. Like most leopards traveling, Jake had kept a small pack around his neck with clothes, yet he hadn’t taken the time to don them. That meant Catarina was in dire circumstances.

Then he heard Jake call in the helicopter. He’d faltered in that split second and he was damned lucky that Cordeau was struggling to stay on his feet. He should have dealt the killing blow right then, but Eli could barely breathe with fear. He couldn’t lose Catarina. He hadn’t considered that it might happen. He had every confidence that he would defeat Cordeau. There was no other option.

Cordeau couldn’t have Catarina. She was a treasure and the man hadn’t protected her, and even now, when he could have called out to Eli that she needed aid, he’d chosen to battle instead. That meant no more dealing out punishment. That meant killing Cordeau fast. The black panther understood, knew his mate was in trouble and instantly charged the leopard who had attempted to take her away from them.

He hit the side of the large cat and drove him over, feeling something give in the other animal. The leopard screamed in pain and rage. In fear. The heavier black panther didn’t hesitate. He ripped at the unprotected underside of the tawny leopard, attacked the softer exposed male parts drawing rivers of blood. When the leopard had no choice but to turn in desperation, Eli was on him, driving his teeth deep in and holding him there in the killing stranglehold of their kind.