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    Fur Verona
    Fur Verona
    Fur Verona
    Ebook120 pages1 hour

    Fur Verona

    By Gwyn McNamee

    ()

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    About this ebook

    A volatile pack feud. Enemies who are also fated mates...

     

    Rome

    When sinister things start happening on Montreux land, there's only one potential suspect…the Capshaw pack.  Those slobbering, mangy cougar shifters are nothing but backstabbers and trouble makers.  And now, they've taken things too far by targeting my pack.  I'm willing to do anything to protect my family, even if it means taking on the Capshaws.  But when I see Jules Capshaw for the first time, all thoughts of revenge fly out the window.  Who would have thought my greatest enemy would be my fated mate?

     

    Jules

    Rome Montreux is up to something.  When he trespasses onto Capshaw land in the middle of the night, I know it's with wicked intent.  There can't possibly be another reason for a Montreux to be here. But when he reappears at my birthday party, it's not hatred or mistrust brewing between us—it's the lust of two mates.  The fact that he's a panther and my sworn enemy doesn't matter to my body.  And once we are mated, all bets are off.

    But something evil is afoot in Verona Forest, and it has nothing to do with the twenty year Capshaw/Montreux feud.  There's a bigger threat. 

    Can we band together to face the real enemy, or will we let past hatred rule the present?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGwyn McNamee
    Release dateJul 26, 2018
    ISBN9781386850748
    Fur Verona
    Author

    Gwyn McNamee

    Gwyn McNamee is an attorney, writer, wife, and mother (to one human baby and two fur babies). Originally from the Midwest, Gwyn relocated to her husband’s home town of Las Vegas in 2015 and is enjoying her respite from the cold and snow. Gwyn has been writing down her crazy stories and ideas for years and finally decided to share them with the world. She loves to write stories with a bit of suspense and action mingled with romance and heat. When she isn’t either writing or voraciously devouring any books she can get her hands on, Gwyn is busy adding to her tattoo collection, golfing, and stirring up trouble with her perfect mix of sweetness and sarcasm (usually while wearing heels). Gwyn is the author of The Hawke Family series, The Slip Series, The Deadliest Sin Series, The Inland Seas Series, The Supernatural Love Stories in the Absurd (written as her alter-ego, DP Payne), and several stand-alone novels.

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      Book preview

      Fur Verona - Gwyn McNamee

      CHAPTER 1

      Two households, both alike in dignity,

      In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

      From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

      Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

      From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

      A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

      Whole misadventured piteous overthrows

      Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

      Romeo and Juliet (1.1) – William Shakespeare

      Lightning splits the dark sky and illuminates the slinking black form across the clearing. Barely a second passes before thunder explodes, shaking the wet ground beneath my paws and vibrating my chest. It only adds to the tension coiling through my limbs.

      The heavens open, unleashing a deluge onto the clearing and the mysterious stranger.  Branches dangling overhead do very little to keep me from being pounded by the rain, but there’s no time to be a prima donna about getting wet. 

      There’s an intruder in Capshaw Territory, and it’s a fucking Montreux bastard. 

      Either he’s stupid or he has a death wish. 

      Why else would he dare breach our borders, during a massive storm nonetheless? 

      He’s not even trying to hide his presence.  Quite the contrary.  While I stay concealed in the underbrush and trees at the edge of the large open space, he strolls through it casually, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to be here. 

      His wet, black coat shimmers under another flash of lightning.  This time, he pauses and, as the thunder rolls, his ears perk up.

      Shit.  Does he know I’m here? I haven’t moved a fucking muscle, and the rain should mask my scent enough to protect me and help camouflage my presence.  At least, theoretically. I almost wish I were in human form so I could cross my fingers and pray he doesn’t see me, but my heightened senses and speed in this form are certainly worth the inability to cross my digits.

      My heart races while he assesses the situation and examines his surroundings.

      Why did I come out here alone tonight? I knew the storm was coming. My reconnaissance could have waited until things cleared up. The intrusions across our borders and the strange things happening over the last several weeks have been escalating. And now, seeing the Montreux cat here, the assumption formed by the pack that they are behind them seems to be confirmed.

      Assholes.

      With a slight shake of his head, he returns to his nonchalant path across the clearing, his eyes scanning his surroundings with interest. 

      He’s probably looking for something to give him an edge on a full-scale invasion. It was only a matter of time before Rome sent a scout onto Capshaw land to try to find our weaknesses. He’s far too arrogant and power-hungry to be content with the territory he has. Though I’ve never met the man, or the cat, his reputation precedes him. And no doubt, this scout is here with a dubious purpose. It explains what’s been happening and causes a cold stone of dread to settle in my stomach.

      Another flash and low rumble has me bracing myself against something wholly unexpected.  Every bit of light exposes him more and allows me to better examine the cat dumb enough to risk his life by crossing the border.  And damn, as much as I hate to admit it, he is one fucking beautiful feline.

      Thick muscles ripple under his wet fur with every step.  The strong set of his shoulders and spine, along with the way he holds his head high despite the very real threat that exists just by him being here, suggest his confidence and that he knows what his mission is. He’s probably an arrogant prick.

      He would have to be.  No Montreux has set foot on Capshaw land for at least twenty-five years, maybe more.  Not since the battle that started the feud that now hangs thick in the air between me and the stranger. The hatred between our packs is as heavy as the humidity in the air tonight, and it always will be. Some things are born in your blood. Disdain for Montreux mongrels is one of those things for a Capshaw.

      Verona will forever be split by our feud, but it’s necessary and righteous. Even now.

      Another sound pierces the night through the driving rain. 

      Paws on wet earth. 

      Running. 

      And definitely toward me.

      I shift and ready myself to strike or defend myself if necessary.

      I fucking knew it! He’s not alone. Who’s with him? What the hell do they want?

      One Montreux mutt on my land is troublesome, but two, that’s a declaration of war, as far as I’m concerned. 

      The large cat pauses and turns toward the approaching one. 

      He emerges into the clearing at a slow run and makes his way over to his companion.  A low growl sounds but the remaining conversation is lost in the thunder and increased pace of the falling rain.

      Their words may not be discernible, but neither are happy.  Raised hackles and narrowed eyes on the two males circling each other lead me to believe the first one was not expecting his friend’s arrival.

      Jesus...are they going to fight right here? Right now?

      That would take care of my problem, I guess.  At least one less Montreux in this world is a win for everyone.

      But instead of pouncing, the bigger of the two, the one I’ve been watching, stares down his companion with a determination I wouldn’t want to cross. Rain pounds the grass around them, turning the clearing into a swampy, muddy mess. They remain unfazed by the storm raging around us. The tension simmering between them is more powerful than the electricity shooting through the air.

      After a moment, the smaller cat drops back and retreats across the wet earth without so much as a glance back at his intimidating friend. A second later, the large cat turns tail and races across the clearing after his friend toward the Montreux border.

      His friend disappears into the brush but the magnificent black panther pauses at the edge of the clearing and turns his head in my direction.  His glowing yellow eyes meet mine.

      Fuck! He knows I’m here.

      I tense, mentally and physically preparing myself for the attack that’s no doubt about to begin.  But rather than charge across the short distance between us and take advantage of his much larger size and strength, the intruder merely holds my stare for a second. Then, he slinks off into the night as if he had never been here.

      What. The. Fuck. Was. That?

      CHAPTER 2

      "W hat the fuck were you thinking?"

      I barely contain a growl at Marc’s question.  This is the last thing I want to be dealing with right now. Like the pack doesn’t have enough trouble? I should have made myself clear back there. He’s in no position to be questioning my actions.

      He drops down from his perch on a large branch overarching the path back to Montreux territory and blocks my way.

      He’s got some real fucking balls...charging onto Capshaw land like that and confronting me.  Who the fuck does he think he is?  Maybe I’ve been giving him too much responsibility as of late.  It’s starting to go to his head.

      He needs a reminder who the alpha of our pack is. And while I managed to show some restraint back in the clearing, there’s nothing stopping me now from giving him exactly what he deserves if he continues to challenge me.

      This growl isn’t contained.  It rumbles from my chest and out into the wet night air as loud as the thunder chasing the streaks of lightning across the sky. 

      His stance immediately changes—shoulders slumping and head dropping with his ears back. The submission is complete.

      Good.

      Message received.

      After a momentary pause, during which he’s no doubt wondering if he’s about to lose his position or life for second-guessing me, he raises his head and looks me in the eye. "I’m sorry, Rome.  I wasn’t trying to overstep.  But running off into Capshaw territory alone at night...it’s too dangerous.  You should have told us what you were doing. 

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