The Outrider - A Paranormal Regency Romance ONC 2022

Chapter 19

Warning – the following text is mildly raunchy.

In which our heroine finds her match

Neither huge nor monstrous seemed adequate enough adjectives to describe the creature now rounding the corner and crunching to a halt on the gravel. A menacing snarl emitted from a chest broader than the writing desk in Corinna's room. The rope-like tail lashed like the whip of a coachman, while plate-sized paws kneaded the ground.

His lordship had arrived.

Corinna couldn't resist. A sneak peek revealed her theory had been correct.

Mylord was supremely well-hung.

Heat flamed in her cheeks, and another peek triggered a delicious tingle deep within her belly. With a sigh, she dragged her unwilling gaze to the beast's neck, where the spiky ebony fur glistened with moisture. Someone had changed shape in a hurry.

"Hello, Uncle Eugene," Amanda crowed. "Good thing I didn't place a bet. For sure, I didn't surmise you'd dare to show yourself in public with only your fur for cover."

Surprise crept into the blazing green eyes of the oversized quadruped. Its gaze slipped aside, and so did the panther, skulking into the undergrowth until half of its bulk—the half that mattered—was hidden from prying eyes.

What a shame.

The temptation to order the shrubs aside was great, but Corinna resisted. Better not to reveal the extent of her powers to the changeling.

"It appears we have a stalemate," she said.

"Not quite so fast," said the panther. Its tones, snarly and deep, were less than dulcet, but they unmistakably belonged to Demoral. Her heart stumbled, missed a beat, and carried on.

"You can talk?" she asked.

"What do you think I'm doing just now? Playing a minuet? Of course, I can talk."

"When in fur form, I can't," Amanda said.

"You're too young and you talk too much anyway," her uncle said, sitting on his powerful haunches.

"Do not. Actually, talking of fur forms, if you wish to romance Miss Wolverstoke, you had better change. Shall I fetch you some clothes?"

His lordship growled. "That's quite enough. Go back to bed. This instant."

"One moment," Corinna said. "Earlier, I heard shooting at the house. Surely, you don't wish to send your niece into danger?"

The panther rolled its eyes. Given their size and luminosity, the effect was rather overwhelming, especially in the half-light created by the moon's pearly glow.

"Bah. The danger is over and Brewster apprehended."

"Brewster?"

"His Majesty's spymaster. My stepmother chose to alert him to the fact there would be foreign agents on the rampage tonight, no doubt hoping some dirt would stick and I be arrested. The only French agent we have on offer is Cook, and she's a whiz with the musket. Just gets over-excited all the time, hence the exchange of lead balls." He moved and the bushes rustled.

"Oh, what did you do with the corpses?" Amanda asked.

The panther rolled its eyes again. "There are no corpses. Cook aimed for their legs. I wouldn't allow such murderous behavior, as you know very well, you naughty little puss. Now, will you go to bed, or do I have to make you?"