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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No, she was distressed and I shifted.

What had he read about her mother dying in childbirth? She’d hemorrhaged. He’d had Ania do some investigating for him and several of the strawberry leopards had died from hemorrhaging. This was a careless mistake. He took a deep breath, refusing to panic. He stood up, lifting her off of him and into his arms, taking her to the bed and laying her facedown. She barely moved she was so exhausted.

Shturm, you’re going to clean those wounds. Shift now. Sevastyan was in no mood to take any bullshit from his leopard. Be gentle with her.

For once the cat obeyed without giving him any lip. Shturm lapped at the puncture wounds, and then shifted again. Sevastyan hurriedly yanked the first-aid kit from behind the bar where he’d stashed it. He cleaned the bite marks thoroughly, noting that even with the cat cleaning them they were still bleeding. It wasn’t a lot of blood, but enough that it told him she would have trouble if she really got a deep cut—or she had a baby. He wasn’t like so many others of his species—he wasn’t all about having children to save the shifters.

He tried butterfly bandages and waited to see if they would stop the flow of blood. If that didn’t work, he would put a stitch in each of the bites. He was also contacting the doctor immediately. He wasn’t taking chances with her.

“Sevastyan?” Flambé’s voice was husky. Drowsy.

“Shh baby, just lie still.”

“I need to clean up.”

“I’ll get you cleaned up in a few minutes. I’m admiring my handiwork. The ropes looked good on your skin.” He smoothed his hand over her thigh where the marks from the ropes were still faint.

She didn’t respond. The butterfly bandages were holding. Relief spread through him. He contemplated the perils of landscaping and how many ways she could cut herself while working as he ran a hot bath for the two of them. He’d given the cook and housecleaners the day off as well so after he bathed her, he’d put her back to bed and he’d fix brunch while she slept. That would give him time to try to figure out why she was afraid of him.

She never acted afraid of him. It would stand to reason that if she was, she wouldn’t let him tie her. She would never trust him the way she had that morning. Nothing about the situation made any sense.

Sevastyan scooped her off the bed and carried her into the bathroom once the tub was filled. He’d added bath salts to the water to help heal any soreness. She curled into his chest, feeling lightweight, almost insubstantial to him. There were rope marks on her body as well as marks from his mouth and hands. She had skin that displayed his artwork beautifully. Someday, he’d take pictures of her body after he removed the ropes as well as with the various ties on.

“Sevastyan.” His name came out a husky protest as he sat down in the tub, her body between his legs, the hot water nearly to her neck. “It’s too hot.”

“It’s good for you.” He caught her chin and pulled her head back against his shoulder so he could wash her face. “Keep your eyes closed. I like your face all shiny with my seed, baby, but you might not like it as much as I do.”

Flambé reached back over her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his neck. It was the first real spontaneous gesture of affection she’d ever made toward him that wasn’t sexual since his leopard had claimed hers. He knew she’d done it because she was half asleep, but he’d take what he could get. He was very gentle as he washed her face. She fell asleep as he held her, just soaking her body, letting the salts have time to do their work.

The moment he began to soap her body, it didn’t matter how gentle he was, he could see how sensitive her skin was, particularly now that hormones were raging. If she always had trouble with her nerve endings so close, the merging of the leopard and human cycles had worsened the effects. Her body shuddered with every touch no matter how careful or impersonal he was. He forced himself to use stronger, harder strokes, even though it went against everything he wanted to do, and she quieted.

When he washed between her legs she cried out and turned her face into his shoulder, biting down hard with her teeth, not realizing she was biting him. He murmured to her soothingly and finished, wrapping her once in a towel rather than trying to dry her off, and then putting her in bed and letting her air-dry.

He checked the butterfly bandages and then pressed a kiss into the middle of her back before heading downstairs to the kitchen.



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