Leopard’s Rage (Leopard People #12) Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Leopard People Series by Christine Feehan
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Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
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“You don’t seem to like talking about your work with me. I thought if I educated myself on the plants it would help. I like having them in the house as well as outside. I’m really anxious to start planning the indoor garden with you. I thought about what you said, that it might be too big and we might have to do it in sections. I hadn’t thought that it could be overwhelming. You’re just one person and it is very personal since we’re incorporating bondage equipment as part of the basic décor.”

He caught her green gaze going amber, flashing at him before she turned her face forward, toward the trees. She jogged almost a yard before she replied. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I didn’t want to discuss my work with you. I guess I thought you’d find it boring. You work late and whatever you do is . . . complicated. I don’t even know exactly what it is you do.”

There was always going to be that lying between them. His work. There was no getting around that and no getting out of it. He was what he was. What he’d been born into. She already suspected. She heard the rumors. Hell, he’d told her. She saw him get out of a car and she might not have witnessed him shooting someone, but she certainly suspected that he had. He’d admitted to her that he’d hunted and killed the men who were waiting to kidnap her on his property. Once her leopard emerged, she would know what he was.

Sevastyan stayed quiet. There wasn’t much to say. He looked down at the top of her head, at the messy topknot of impossibly bright red hair. It was definitely red. And very thick and wild. Untamed. That should have given him a clue right there. He’d been so damned complacent, so arrogant just because she liked the ropes. Because she craved sex the way he did. Not exactly the same way. Her body was very sensitive, her nerve endings burning close to the surface, causing the sensations to be almost painful.

They were coming up on the trees and he indicated for her to go ahead of him and set the pace. She had a shorter stride and she could run full out and still not be anywhere near as fast as he was. He didn’t want her to know how fast he could run. Sevastyan kept himself in top fighting shape at all times. Amur leopards were fast and could leap amazing distances, both horizontally and vertically. Shturm had set records at both running and leaping. He could turn in midair and switch directions. He was also in top fighting form and far more experienced than most males. There was no doubt that he could keep his mate safe.

Sevastyan followed her through the path in the woods. It was narrow and wound in and out of the trees. She was faster than he thought she would be and she clearly was used to running. He should have known. He had used extreme exercise to stave off the terrible craving for sexual needs as long as he possibly could before he had Flambé in his life. She ran like a machine, her body flexible, muscles rippling beneath her thin tank and bunching in her thighs.

The rope marks were visible on her legs and arms. Her running top was short, ending just below her bra and exposing the line of rope knots down her back that still showed so beautifully on her skin. They fell into a rhythm easily, moving through the trees and bushes, and even with the fast pace, he found himself liking the way his marks of possession looked on her. He felt primitive toward her. Even predatory, much like his male leopard; primal, not wanting any other male close to her. He’d never experienced any emotion even close to what he was feeling.

Running gave him time to assess his unusual and unhealthy sentiments. He knew part of it was the fact that her leopard hadn’t emerged yet and his leopard was raging, prowling closer and closer to the surface every hour. Shturm was growing impatient just when Sevastyan was certain that he needed patience now more than ever.

“Head back to the house, baby,” he called out. “To the twin garages. I’ve had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

For a minute he wasn’t certain she would respond, but then she chose a path that would loop them back toward their home. He hadn’t been paying close attention to their route until that moment. She had run in the opposite direction of his cousin’s property, staying clear of any chance meeting with any of the shifters who might be working near the property lines. They weren’t that close, but they could have been.


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