He lost his bad mood fast and remembered fun. Remembered freedom and what having a mate felt like. She tired easily, but she met his every advance willingly, letting him take his fill of her, just as loving back, rubbing her muzzle along his and winding her neck along his.

He kept them moving deeper into the property when he wasn’t loving on her. Slower this time, with less purpose and more fun, but still moving. Even after taking her multiple times, the male needed the spacious land, the freedom of the night. Twice she lay down and he had to go back for her, standing over her protectively while she rested. Then he got her moving again.

He took her toward his favorite spot. A small rise with a grove of trees. The trees were old, a stand of oak with thick trunks and long sweeping branches that bent low to the ground. The rise was just high enough that when you leapt up into the trees and climbed, you could see most of the land—even the house.

More than once, when he wanted to be alone, Elijah had come here. Only Joaquin and occasionally his brother Tomas had followed him. They kept to the form of a leopard, their big males pacing a distance behind him, his shadows. They’d been doing it for so long, sometimes he could forget they were there—and why.

As he approached the grove of trees, he picked up the pace, eager to climb his favorite tree, rest with Siena and watch the sunrise before they had to go back and face the day. Face Doc. Elijah stayed buried deep in his leopard, trying not to think of what the morning might bring to the two of them. He wanted to just let go and think of nothing but living wild. Living free with Siena and his children.

The night was extremely dark with no moon. The air had stilled, not even a slight breeze blowing. Black clouds lay heavy above their heads, threatening rain, but there wasn’t even a hint of a mist. He moved toward the grove, picking up his pace, and then became aware that Siena had stopped. She didn’t follow him. Not only did she not follow him, but she lifted her lip in a snarl and first backed away, then turned to run.

The male leopard wasn’t having any more of her defiance. He’d played her games, loved her, given her time to rest repeatedly, and his goal was just a short distance away. He went at her hard, mindful of her fragile state, but he used a hard, very muscular shoulder to turn her back to toward the grove.