“He beat me,” she said, suppressing another sob. “He wasn’t angry. He just beat me, like it was a job to him. And then he used his claws on me, on my . . . body.” She buried her face against his shoulder and clung to him.

So close to her, the scent of the other leopard was overpowering. His cat went wild, raking and clawing, demanding to be set free to kill his rival. He wanted the scent off of her. “I need to look at the damage, Isabeau.”

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Would you be more comfortable with a woman? With Mary?” He kept his voice gentle.

Again she shook her head. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

He had to ask. “Did he rape you?”

She pressed her forehead tight against his shoulder. His heart pounded hard in his chest, but he made no movement, staying still, just waiting.

“He said he would never rape a woman.” She began to weep a little wildly. “He was so cruel, Conner. And all the while, he acted like I deserved it, like I had betrayed him.”

He tightened his arms carefully around her, trying not to choke on the other man’s smell. His leopard was insane, pushing close to the surface, raging at his enemy, trying to rip through flesh to get to the hideous, offensive smell.

“We’re going to get you in the bathtub where I can inspect the damage. You’ll need painkillers, Isabeau, and antibiotics . . .”

She lifted her face to look at him for the first time and there was a hint of pride in her gaze. “He said you’d be too upset to remember the antibiotics, but you didn’t forget. ”

“Of course I didn’t,” he brushed a kiss along her forehead. “You’re my first priority, always, Isabeau.”

“He thought I’d be upset that you went to help Jeremiah,” she said. “But I’m glad you did.” She couldn’t keep the edge of hysteria from her voice. “He did everything he could to drive a wedge between us.”

Conner’s stomach knotted. He heard the uncertainty in her voice. She wasn’t aware of it, but Ottila had done damage to Isabeau by shaking her confidence, not only in him—that he could accept another man’s mark on her—but in herself. He lifted her, taking her on through to the bathroom. Rio had thoughtfully lit candles to keep the light muted and soft.

“Should I get the doc?” he asked.

“She’s already on antibiotics. Give me some time to assess the damage,” Conner said. “He planned this out very well. He let me catch a whiff of him, laid a trail straight to Jeremiah, hurt him enough that we’d stay there and help, left us another trail into the forest leading away from the valley and from here, and all the while we were chasing him he was terrorizing Isabeau.”