Claiming the Jackal Read Free Page A

their charms, the power of their Voice. An Isis witch was behind the curse that had killed four jackals and almost killed his brother. A group of Isis witches had hunted his kind for centuries, taking their pelts for some unknown purpose. Yet another Isis witch had betrayed the new Anput and nearly gotten her killed. He had good reason to distrust Isis witches and even better reasons to hate them. Yet this woman, with her caring nature and healing touch, soothed him and stirred him as none had in centuries.
    Rana was different. He’d known that when they’d briefly met at the ceremony joining Tia and Markus. The nurturing strength of her healer’s magic had wrapped around him, abating some of his rage. Though he’d easily dismissed the other priestesses, he’d noticed Rana as a man recognizes a woman. A little taller than average, the top of her head reached his chin. Mysteries and keen intellect shone through the fathomless darkness of her gaze, drawing him in. She was all curves, from the golden-copper apples of her cheeks, the bow of her lips, the swell of her breasts, to the sweet curve of her hips and thighs. She kept her ebony hair in short, touchable waves that just grazed her neck and made him want to tuck the wayward strands behind her ears. Her eyes were tomb-dark yet soft beneath sweeping black brows, the warmth in them accented by the slightly upturned nose and balanced by full lips that seemed always ready to smile.
    The memory of her touch swam through him. She’d touched him, and he’d awakened. Just a simple touch to his chest, her palm flat against his heart, and he’d come alive. Everything after that had been new and wondrous and etched into his memory. His first breath, taking her air. The first scent of her, warming his lungs. The first touch, feeling the softness of her curves against the hard planes of his body. The first sight of her eyes, deep and dark and full of care, staring into his awakened soul.
    It must have been how the dead felt when Lord Anubis awakened their senses for the journey through the underworld.
    Despite the cool swim, her essences still lingered on his senses. Her scent, the taste of her lips, the feel of her chest against his... Hunger settled in his bones. Hunger for Rana. She would come to him, whether she intended to or not. He felt her, pulling at man and jackal, and he could do nothing except respond.
    Silently he broke the surface, and there she was. She didn’t seem to be aware of his presence yet. She stood at the edge of the lake, her face tilted toward the heavens. The sky hung in the magical balance between day and night, the blaze of the setting sun dueling with the cool fire of the waxing moon, bathing Rana’s simple white blouse and skirt in ribbons of blue and amber.
    The serenity in her expression stole his breath and tightened his loins. In the four weeks she’d lived in the compound, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her so unguarded, so real, so beautiful. He understood why the other jackals were drawn to her—she was female, and the divine feminine flowed in her veins. What he didn’t understand was why he was attracted to her.
    The whys no longer mattered. He wanted her. She had come to him. That meant she wanted him, too. Tonight he would have her.
    * * *
    Rana watched the jackal paddle to shore. She knew it was Hector, though she’d never seen him shift forms before. She could feel the current of magic and energy she’d felt from him before, more muted than the body-to-body effect she’d experienced in the infirmary. Something had called her out here, compelled her to the far side of the lake instead of her usual nighttime path near the community house. Now she knew why.
    Hector. She rubbed at the spot of skin below her throat where he’d touched her. The heat of his hand and the power of their kiss had stayed with her long after he’d returned to his duties, leaving her unable to focus on hers. She wanted to feel his power entwining with