her buttocks at the back, slit to the thigh on both sides. The evening breeze molded the lightweight material to her body as she walked, highlighting the perfection of her figure. Her waist-length hair was iron straight, its blue-black sheen emphasized by the strobe lighting. As Sarange drew closer and raised her microphone, singing the first few lines of the song she had written—a love song to the creatures of the planet—he caught his first glimpse of eyes that were like chips of blue ice.
Forcing himself to focus, he circled her, growling out his response. The audience went ballistic. Could they feel it? Sense what he had experienced the moment she walked into view?
Khan knew what was happening, knew what the legends said. It was like a mantra imprinted into every shifter’s psyche.
When you find your one true love, you will mate for life.
He had heard the stories about how a shifter instantly knew its mate. How the sudden hit of attraction and lust was like nothing he, or she, had ever encountered before. It was said to be irresistible, an injection of pure, molten heat straight into the bloodstream.
Yes, he’d heard other shifters talk about that feeling. He’d just never believed it. Until now. Until he’d seen Sarange. Breathed her in. Felt her touch his soul.
And now he was in deep trouble. For so many reasons. The thoughts tumbled over themselves as he continued to perform on autopilot. As far as the world was concerned, he was Khan, charismatic lead singer of the hugely successful rock band Beast. And that’s exactly who he was. Who his human was.
But, like all shifters, Khan had two equal sides to his psyche. They existed in harmony, the traits of one complementing the other. He was a weretiger. Half human, half tiger, he had the ability to shift seamlessly from one form to the other. Because of the life he had chosen when he met Ged—if “met” was the best word to use to describe the encounter—he spent most of his time in human form, but that didn’t mean his inner tiger had been subdued. Those instincts were as powerful as ever. For Khan, as for all shifters who chose to live among mortals, day-to-day living was a constant balancing act, a striving to maintain anonymity.
Rock star by day, tiger by night. He was the mightiest of the big cats, with teeth, claws and a personality to match, but that was his deepest, darkest secret. He wasn’t about to reveal it to anyone, particularly not Sarange, darling of the paparazzi. It didn’t matter how much she made the blood in his veins sizzle, or how much she triggered a zipper-straining reaction farther south. It didn’t even matter that she had her own, equally compelling secret.
Because, as soon as he saw her, he knew. Sarange’s secret was the same as Khan’s. She was a shifter, too. Khan had scented her before he saw her. That gorgeous face and stunning body hid the soul of a werewolf. That knowledge made everything Khan was feeling right now so far beyond screwed up he thought he might just be going crazy.
He was a tiger. She was a wolf. Cats and dogs? They were natural enemies. Put them together and the claws came out and the fur flew. Even if Khan had been able to do what the legends said—settle down, take a mate—it would never be her.
The tales about the unbreakable bond between true mates hadn’t foreseen this particular problem. They dealt only in success stories. Happily-ever-afters. It was always possible Khan’s dilemma had never arisen until now. He needed answers. Having found a mate he didn’t want, a shifter couldn’t walk away—could he? Once the bonds were forged, could they be broken?
He was about to find out.
* * *
There had never been any question about who the headline act would be. Never any doubt about who would sing the Animals Alive anthem as the concert closed. Beast was the hottest rock band in the world. Although Sarange hadn’t been to any of their concerts, or met them in person, she intended to tap into that raw power.
Even if the lead singer was a total jerk.
She had watched enough footage of the band over recent weeks to reach a simple conclusion. Khan was a strutting, narcissistic show-off. She knew better than anyone that that was the perfect qualification for a rock star. Unfortunately, there was enough evidence to prove he was exactly the same offstage. She’d been hoping to enlist Beast’s continued help after the concert. It made sense. Beast. It had the potential to be the perfect partnership. Their name combined with hers, their pulling power, the two contrasting audiences...between them, they could have taken awareness of the plight of endangered species to a whole new level. Having watched interviews with Khan and done her research into his lifestyle, she’d changed her mind. Promiscuous, arrogant, conceited, he just about summed up everything she disliked in a man...in a person. Khan described himself as “the guy who dived head-on into hedonism.” Yeah. He was a jerk.
As she walked out onstage, she gave herself a firm reminder. This was for the Animals Alive Foundation, the non-profit organization she had founded. Its mission was to maintain the environments of endangered species through fundraising and education. All she had to do was get through one song. Five minutes out of her life to get the attention of Beast’s followers. She didn’t have to like this guy to sing with him. Performing was what she did best. She achieved a melting expression as she sang the first lines of the anthem that meant so much to her.
Sarange was used to crowds, but this was an emotional high like nothing she had ever experienced. This was the culmination of over two years of hard work. Of being told it would never happen. Big fund-raising gigs were last century. Austerity measures meant there was no spare cash. People, not animals—that was the way nonprofit worked these days.
Kicking open slammed doors. Pulling down barriers with her bare hands. It was one of her strengths, but it had been hard. Fighting the establishment one interview and rally at a time. If we don’t care for animals, how can we care for each other? When they are extinct, your regrets will be worthless. Sound bites. Slogans. Pins. Banners. Every album she made, every photo shoot, every gig...like a general rallying her troops, she used each as another opportunity to get more people on her side.
But the feeling that tore through her as she reached Khan had nothing to do with the triumph or relief of this night. It had nothing to do with viewing figures or pledges. It was about him. Something crackled in the air between them and around them. It was electrifying, thrilling and scaring her at the same time.
The film footage she had watched hadn’t done Khan justice. He was startlingly handsome. Tall, with a lithe, muscular grace, his features almost perfect. He had high, carved cheekbones, a straight nose and breathtaking amber eyes. Almost perfect because his mouth was too full and sensual for perfection. But those eyes...they were mesmerizing. Set under slanting brows, they reminded her of a cat’s in the way they drew her in and refused to let her go. As he closed the gap between them, he was staring at her with an expression she couldn’t fathom. He could have been playing a part for the audience, but, if he was, he was good. Frighteningly good. Because she was instantly swept away by the hunger in his gaze.
This song wasn’t supposed to be sexy, for God’s sake. But the way Khan was standing behind her, not touching her, but almost touching her, his body moving in sinful time to the music...nothing had ever affected her this way. It was as if he was an illegal high and she was dragged into addiction after her first hit.
As they sang the last verse, Sarange was barely aware of the other acts who had performed throughout the course of the evening joining them on the stage. This night would go down in history. It would be remembered as the night she had alerted the world to her cause. And in her own life it was the night everything would change because she had met Khan.
When the song ended and the sound of Khan’s voice died away, she felt bereft. He still hadn’t
