Page 286 of Pucking Feral: Part Two

Third branch. Now I'm a good fifteen feet up, hidden in the canopy, my back pressed against the trunk and my legs straddling a thick limb.

I hold my breath.

The wolf mask enters the clearing.

The blue glow sweeps the ground, and I bite my palm so I don't make a sound.

It lifts, then sweeps down again, and he doubles back the way he came. He's silent this time, but from my vantage point, I catch a few glimpses of glow through the thick leaves.

He's gone back on the trail.

My crazy scent plan worked.

Holy fucking shit.

Chapter 59

Valek

Iknow my prey is in the tree.

But I want her panties.

The first pair she flung is about forty feet back, caught on a low juniper branch, a pale blue scrap of fabric fluttering in the dark like a tiny surrender flag. The second pair is higher up, tangled in the crook of a birch maybe fifteen feet off the trail.

Clever girl.

I backtrack at an unhurried pace. It's impressive that she scaled the tree so easily, but it will take her time to get down safely. I reach up toward the panties and hook my finger in the waistband, giving them an experimental tug. A sharper tug and they're free.

I press the fabric against the lower edge of my mask, inhaling through the dark balaclava beneath the glowing neon LED tubing.

FUCK…

Her honeysuckle scent blazes through my nose and hits the back of my skull hard enough my eyes slide shut. The forest disappears. There is nothing except the heat of her distilled into a few square inches of pastel blue cotton with a neat little matching silk bow, and I breathe her in again, slower this time.

Mate.

I exhale through my nose as slowly as possible, so slowly it gives me a fucking head rush from the lack of oxygen. I want her scent inside my cells for as long as possible.

I fold them into my jacket pocket and retrieve the second pair she discarded, finding them by scent immediately. These are black lace, corset style, with ribbon ties.

She packed these on purpose.

I bury my mask in the lace and inhale so deep my ribs strain against my jacket.

She's going to ruin me.

The second pair joins the first in my pocket as I return to the crumbling forgotten wall, pushing and breaking through the underbrush she so easily darted through like the little rabbit she is. It doesn't take me long to discover the clumped dirt packed into a crevice between the stones, the edge of deep green fabric poking out alongside grass.

I dig my fingers into the dirt and pull another prize free.

This one is a sports bra.

Cute, but disappointing.

I was hoping for something more mouth-watering.

I vault the low wall and push deeper into the young pines, needles scraping my jacket. The clearing opens ahead, moonlight flooding the grass.