ShapeShifter Kisses

May 29, 2013

White Fang ~ A Shapeshifter Memorial by Savanna Kougar


Wednesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.

I wondered how one of our own in Talbot’s Peak would view Memorial Day. White Fang, my super wolf hero, spoke to me for this flash scene.

White Fang ~ A Shapeshifter Memorial

The wildness of the tall-tree forest raced through him as White Fang loped along the trail — still damp and slick from the lightning storm that had blown through during the night hours.

White Fang kept his pace steady, sure-footed. He breathed in the new-growth pine, springtime’s chlorophyl-rich leaves, and the blood-tangy scent of foraging creatures.

The afternoon winds kissed his muzzle, stroked his fur, then slipped over his tail. Feeling the not-to-be-ignored tug of his soul, he’d decided on this small pilgrimage to the isolated mountain lookout he favored most, on what American humans called Memorial Day.

Even though, Earth was not his native planet, White Fang had gradually developed a fondness for Mother Earth. Between his investigations as a crime reporter, he’d explored her splendid untamed terrains. Now, as his paws struck her fecund surface, Gaia’s varied harmonies, her forest song flowed through him, fierce as a jolt of electricity.

Seeing the familiar tower of rock, the gateway to his lookout cathedral, White Fang slowed his gait. Sunlight and shadow played over the shades of gray, and he took moments to appreciate nature’s beauty.

Once he stood on the rock shelf overlooking the monumental grandeur of the valley, White Fang slowly shifted to his human form. The need to honor the fallen warriors and warrioresses of his homeworld burned like a blazing torch inside him.

The wolven shapeshifters who had bravely battled, and given their lives to protect their families, their kind, their world… his world, lived again for long moments before his mind’s eye. He’d witnessed every battle as part of his education, his warrior training.

Some of the fallen had been his ancestors, and White Fang accessed his genetic memories. Opening his arms wide, he offered his sacred heart, his eternal gratitude.

Once the conflicts, the warfare had ended on his home planet, the gift of physical immortality had been bestowed by the creator gods and goddesses. Currently, most of the fallen had incarnated, becoming guardians of the wolven people.

White Fang swept his gaze over the magnificent rock face of the mountainside. After listening to the deep trombone tones of the ancient stone, he recalled each and every shapeshifter he’d known, or knew of, who had sacrificed their lives in battle. Had died for the sake of their kind, to protect their family, their pack, their mate — to save all those they loved.

As their images appeared, he honored each one of them. Finally lowering his arms, White Fang stood in the stillness, the silence — that which was truth and goodness and universal justice.

The sun’s rays embraced him, streamed inside him, a sacred and powerful guiding light. With his eyes still closed, White Fang morphed to his wolven self.

He sat on his haunches, quietly taking in the spectacular wonders around him. Once the shadows lengthened, and the mountain peak claimed the sun, he trotted toward the trail that would take him home to Pasha, the cat goddess he loved.
Home, to Talbot’s Peak.


~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ 





Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ 



Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire



May 22, 2013

Her ’65 Silver Barracuda by Savanna Kougar


Wednesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers. Happy Sun in Gemini.

Today’s flash is a spinoff of Pat’s flash scene from yesterday. I just couldn’t resist.

Her ’65 Silver Barracuda

Katsuz shook inside, apprehensive. Yet, she’d made up her cat mind to follow Gypsy Red Wolf’s advice, to get out and meet the were, shifter, and supernatural folks of Talbot’s Peak.

Surprised her hand wasn’t trembling, Katsuz reached for the soft-fabric tarp, gradually pulling until her ’65 silver Barracuda had been revealed. The muscle car, not as popular as a Ford Mustang, had been the only thing she’d kept from her prior life — when Katsuz believed she was merely human. When her life had been a series of mistakes, confusing missteps, constant mishaps, and years of downright freaking, effing hell.

Knowing Katsuz grooved on fast cars, Gypsy had suggested starting with Vernon McMahon’s latest promotion venture, Classic Car Cruise Night. With a decided twinkle in her eye, the psychic wolf shifter ushered her inside the costume area they’d set up together, which included various types of sewing machines, and the huge collection of patterns they’d purchased via the internet.

Happily purring, Katsuz spent much of her time finding fabrics and trims for their dance costumes. Now, she searched for the mod mini-dress pattern, the one resembling the style she’d worn in her late teens, early twenties, when life’s promise lay before her.

“Really, is this a good idea?” Katsuz muttered, placing the tarp on top of the good-sized metal chest in her small garage.

The sexy click of her white gogo boots on the concrete floor, the swing of her long hair against her back as she gave her head a shake… oh, and the fact that Katsuz craved a thick juicy hamburger with all the trimmings, and a real chocolate malt to top it off…

Katsuz pressed her palm to the hood, bringing the engine to rumbling life. She didn’t take the barracuda out for a spin very often, but when she did she always charged it to full-purr power. On an empty highway, on the straightaway, she’d ease the accelerator all the way to the floorboard, and fly as far as the speedometer needle would go. And beyond.

After all, speed was a high, an aphrodisiac, and with no man in her life a feline woman had to make do with what pleasures life did offer.


Oh now, yowls help! Her hands shook on the steering wheel as she neared the town square where the Happy Days’ fun event was taking place. Dammit meows, her whole body trembled.

Katsuz gulped in breaths while managing to keep her driving safe. Spying Dante on his Harley, she grinned. He’d dressed to imitate The Fonz. How perfect was that?

Oh, wowser powser, and a snap of her fingers, why not a werewolf and shapeshifter fifties musical? Or like the movie, American Graffiti? Or… already the costumes formed before her mind’s eye.

Delicious meaty odors from the Grease ‘n’ Grill also came to her rescue, and Katsu glided the barracuda toward a spot between a 54 Chevy and a beetle bug, as she thought of the original Volkswagen.

Firming her chin, her resolve, and her spine, Katsuz launched out the door. The flirty feel of her silver mini-dress upped her confidence, and she gazed around.  What a happening scene, as her crowd would have said.

Sadness slid inside her heart as she thought of those she’d cared about back then. Being human, likely they suffered the so-called ravages of old age.

“Beautiful dancer,” an admiring male voice spoke behind her.

Thinking she should recognize that rough-and-ready, deep timbre, Katsuz whipped around.  She frowned. No, his face wasn’t familiar as one of the men who regularly watched her perform at the Pleasure Club.

“You don’t remember, do you?” He approached with the latent power of a big cat. Only he was a muscle-sculpted big cat shifter encased in tight black leather.

The dark glitter of his unique eyes gave him away. Jolted by the memory, Katsuz took a step back, her butt pressing against the barracuda’s door. “Brylla’s little brother,” she uttered before her throat constricted.

“Not so little anymore.” His growled words were soft as velvet.

“No… not little,” she inanely, breathlessly blurted out. “How is Brylla?”

“Married. Happy. Two little ones.”

“I…I lost touch…since…”

“You left the rescue center for orphaned shapeshifters… or women who turn into catwoman like you. I do remember everything about you, Katsuz. I remember when you chose that name.”

His intimate tone, his words, tingled through her. Tingles madly racing tingles, she decided. Mews, how much trouble was she in?

“What…what brings you to Talbot’s Peak… besides the shapeshifting obvious?” she lamely finished, leaning back on her hands, the ones plastered to the barracuda’s slick surface.

“Used cars.” A grin teased the corners of his mouth.

“You sell used cars?” she asked, not quite able to envision him as a car salesman.

“Classic cars. I restore them. Looks like a new market has opened up.”

“The Peak is growing.”

 “Since I’m new around here, how about being my date?”

“You do move fast, Zhono.”

“You like fast, Katsuz. You took me and Brylla for a drive on that winding road I’ll never forget.”

“Oh… oh, yeah. I did.” Ungluing herself from her barracuda, Katsuz gave her hair a good toss. She might as well take charge, for once. “Okay, for tonight only. That is, as long as hamburgers and a chocolate malt are on the menu.”

Zhono offered his hand. “Let me know when you want me on the menu,” he drawled, amusement in his tone. 



~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ 



Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ 


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

May 15, 2013

…undisturbed by his presence in their territory… by Savanna Kougar

Wednesday kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

In this flash scene I continue from last week’s flash, Spinning at hyper-speed… in the flames… and the god serpent…

However, only my Djinn-human hero stars, along with Dante and White Fang, in this scene about protecting Talbot’s Peak from the perils of portals.

…undisturbed by his presence in their territory…

Quite enjoying the atmospheric Old English Pub inside Dante’s Pleasure Club complex, Dunkirk paused moments to have a look around. A smile tugged at his lips as he strode toward the alpha werewolf, who raised a pint of ale in silent welcome.

The super wolf reporter for the G&B Gazette, White Fang, was seated opposite Dante. He followed suit, saluting with his tall pint, his manner friendly. It boded well for his scheduled meeting with them, that both wolf shifters appeared to be undisturbed by his presence in their territory.

Dunkirk remained cautious given previous dust-ups with shapeshifter alphas. In no mood for a brawl that would no doubt require the use of his Djinn powers, if he was to escape unscathed, Dunkirk respectfully halted a small distance from Dante’s personal booth, located at the rear of the pub.

“Gentlemen, as I’m certain you know, I am Dunkirk Valmorth. I requested this appointment because I have been informed you are two of Talbot’s Peak’s head honchos, as they say.”

With an wavering gaze that could have stopped a bull elephant’s charge, Dante gave a slight nod. “Have a seat. Join us, Mr. Valmorth. Djinn, am I correct?”

“Half Djinn, yes. Will that be a hindrance to our conversation?” Dunkirk hesitated. He wanted no enmity since his intention was to remain beside Princess Kzelle, and convince her to become his bride.

“We won’t bite. Not unless you give us cause.” White Fang’s drily spoken words were followed by a wry grin.

“Ah, yes.” Dunkirk placed his palm e-reader on the table, angling the device in a manner that allowed both Dante and White Fang to view it. “Address me as Dunkirk, if you will,” he continued, seating himself on the booth’s bench seat as Dante indicated.

White Fang raised his dark brows high, and leaned forward. “Brighton resident ‘discovers vortex to another dimension, complete with giant snake.” He spoke the headline from the Metro UK news article displayed on the small screen.

“…a wormhole or vortex has opened up on Montreal Road,” Dante read in his low gravelly timbre.

“Quite.” With a nod of thanks, Dunkirk accepted the pint of dark ale White Fang pushed toward him. “This is my way of introducing what I wish to reveal. As you might already be aware of, vortexes are opening across the planet. In point of fact…”

“In point of fact,” White Fang repeated, aiming his steely blue-eyed gaze straight at Dunkirk.

After a swallow of the ale, which was surprisingly superb, Dunkirk answered. “One of my abilities is opening a temporary portal for travel. Only accomplished with correct timing, I assure you. However, I arrived close to your fair town by splitting the etheric curtain.”

“You must be a smooth operator, Dunkirk.” Dante cracked a momentary grin, then leaned back with deceptive ease. “We detected no disturbance in the force.”

Resisting the urge to ask if his presence had been detected, Dunkirk took another healthy swallow of the ale. “Magnificent flavor. A ye olde recipe, correct?”

“The Goddess Moon favors us. We have several master brewers in our fair town.”

As Dante savored several swallows, seemingly to emphasize his words, Dunkirk mused on the eclectic gathering of supernaturals. Of course, he’d discover these master brewers because of his own interest in the merits of fine ale. He’d possessed little opportunity to investigate the populace since arriving, his first mission to protect Kzelle.

“We are aware of natural portals being activated by the change in cosmic frequencies,”  White Fang prompted, eyeing Dunkirk like a reporter. “So far, no giant snakes.”

“What if I told you I observed a giant serpent god?” Dunkirk laid the gauntlet down, deciding there was no advantage in any other tactic.

Dante nearly launched across the table, his eyes glowing, feral. With their gazes inches apart, he demanded, “What did you see?”

Dunkirk obliged, providing a full description of what had occurred a mere few days ago, when he and the Princess had been witness to the shapeshifter stampede, and the chase by Quetzalcoatl’s offspring.

Once he finished, a blanket of silence wrapped around them, and the three of them nursed their ales.

“You believe me, don’t you?” Dunkirk broke the silence.

“Yeah, I do.” Dante settled back, his gaze darkened by concern.  “My Kitty sighted ‘the nude serpent man’ when he first hit town. Didn’t realize his god pedigree. There’s been no scat-whiff of a problem, so it’s stayed in the back of my mind.”

“There’s been a couple of rumors floating around about a winged serpent. Never could track them down — find a reliable source.” White Fang shoved his empty glass to the side. “Pasha did warn me. Said she sensed another god, other than Lex.”

“Why don’t you have a tête-à-tête with our snake buddy, Lamar. If anyone knows, I’ll bet an elk steak he does.” Dante signaled for a server.

“Get right on it. Question is, do I write an expose’? Or, let it ride awhile, discover more details?”

“Let it ride awhile, ace reporter. I want to know how dangerous this Quetzalcoatl serpent is before putting the fear of god into everyone.”

White Fang rumbled a chuckle. “You know Nick, he’ll gnaw on my hide if he finds out I let this one slide.”

“Nick and I will come to a mutual werewolf understanding. Another round, Dunkirk?”  Dante asked, as the beta werewolf arrived at their table.

“Don’t mind if I do, gentlemen.” Dunkirk eased his posture, their good will toward him obvious.

Once the server departed, Dante eyed him with wolf-fierce intensity. “I take it you know your way around vortexes, portals. Some say stargates.”

“I do. It’s part of my heritage. How may I be of assistance?” Dunkirk decided this was his ticket to becoming part of the pack.

“We have patrols monitoring two vortex sites. Why don’t you investigate? Tell us what we don’t know.”

Dunkirk retrieved his palm e-reader, slipping it in his side pocket. “Certainly. I must explain my first duty is protecting Princess Kzelle, as I have promised her brother.”

“Understood.” Dante passed around the pints the server had placed before him. “White Fang has been keeping watch on our inter-dimensional stargate. We have off world visitors.”

“I see. My family has off world connections. There is another problem you must be aware of. The evil ones who seek power from realms where the most hideous creatures abide.”

“Yeah,” Dante growled, “the black arts’ magicians are performing blood rituals worldwide. The scat fools are summoning demon beasts from other dimensions. Already chased a few Satanists out of our forest.”

Here’s the link to the real article Dunkirk shows Dante and White Fang on his palm device ~

Brighton resident ‘discovers vortex to another dimension, complete with giant snake’
By Jimmy Nsubuga    Monday 13 May 2013 3:54 pm

Brighton could be the centre of an invasion from dimension-hopping snakes if a report from a resident that a wormhole exists in the city is anything to go by.


~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ 


Savanna Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ 


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

May 8, 2013

Spinning at hyper-speed… in the flames… and the god serpent… by Savanna Kougar

Wednesday kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

Late, late, late… however, I did get my flash scene written. Finally. Yesterday was one mad rush of everything needing to get done.

Yes, the after affects of Pat’s now ex-revivalist preacher, Horton Kirkpatrick, is ongoing. Take a look…

Spinning at hyper-speed… in the flames… and the god serpent…

“Spinning at hyper-speed…” Kzelle paused, searching for the right description of the scene playing before her mind’s eye, “in the flames.”

She spoke her inspired words as she typed on her laptop. “She danced in the flames.”

Alarmed by the sound of stampeding hooves interspersed with bodies crashing through the underbrush, Kzelle leaned forward enough to gaze below at the great stretch of prairie land.

She’d been coming to this little idyllic spot for the last month — such blessed peace and quiet. No one bothered her atop the rock outcropping, and she was nearly surrounded by boulders, protected from the chilly winds.

Nope, no one yowled at her — her brothers didn’t roll their eyes — telling her that her dream of being a writer was at the least, impractical, and at the most laughably ridiculous. Before discovering this hideaway spot, Kzelle endured endless, well meaning lectures from her sire and dam about the joys of mating, and her duty to the pride.

Duty smooty patooty and snooty, who cared? She burned with the need to write, to dance in the flames of her story.

But now, what the friggin’ hell? Thundering panic reverberated the ground. Kzelle set her laptop to the side, crawling closer to the edge of the flat rock.

“What the–? Is there a second Noah’s Ark I don’t know about?”

Astonished to her core, Kzelle stared at the madly racing wolves, the frightened big cats keeping pace, and the herbie shifters galloping with them, and not from them. Several bird shifters flew above the zoo stampede, their flight terrified.

Instinctively crouching in the shadow of the boulder, Kzelle scanned for what or who chased them. Even as she held her breath, waiting, some part of her memorized the scene so she could use it for a future story.

Not one particle of her was prepared for what Kzelle witnessed next. A god serpent. She froze. Another Ice Age might as well have hit with a vengeance as she watched the strange motley herd of shapeshifters race toward her position, then past her.

The monstrous serpent flapped after them battling the kicked-up clouds of dust. In the back of her mind, Kzelle decided last year’s partial drought had been a blessed, good thing in this instance. 

Sekhmet behold! Who knew one of Quetzalcoatl’s offspring had risen? Winter Solstice 2012 had come and gone with not one report. Now, obviously the obsidian winged serpent roamed the Earth. Not only Earth, but here in this Montana shapeshifter sanctuary.

With all her might Kzelle retracted her claws, halting her shift to lioness. No use making herself a delectable target.

Once the god serpent flew past her, his chase slowed by the billowing dust, Kzelle silently screamed a roar. Fear twisted through her, but so did fury.

Finally remembering to breathe, she growled softly. Kzelle crawled on her hands and knees to the opposite boulder, peeking around it.

With a mighty writhing twist of his body, the god serpent stopped his pursuit. Undulating impressively, he soared straight up, then rolled in midair and flew toward Talbot’s Peak.

O Great Sekhmet help! What now?

Kzelle sat back and tried to think what her next move should be. She and her pride had only relocated to the Peak about six months ago.

Admittedly, she’d kept to herself, investigating the surrounding terrain, more than getting to know anyone in Talbot’s Peak. Trembling uncontrollably now, Kzelle made a mental list of the small town’s leaders.

But what could the mayor squirrel shifter do? Worse, the sheriff was human.

There was the G&B Gazette. Should she tell White Fang, one of their ace reporters, what she’d just witnessed? Let him warn everyone. After all, even she’d heard the gossip about him being some sort of super wolf.

Still shaking, Kzelle stood, and kept her palm pressed against the boulder. When she raised her gaze, she nearly jumped out of her skin. A scream stuck in her throat.

“Are you quite all right?” The hunky man, attired in safari gear, approached fast. He gripped her elbow, steadying her.

Only the real concern shining in his dark eyes, stopped Kzelle from shifting and clawing him to bloody pieces.

“Who are you?” she blurted out.

“You’re going to hate me, Princess. Your brother, Zorik, and I are chums from university days.”

“He sent you after me, right?”

“Brotherly concern, I assure you. And I am a game tracker in Africa.” He paused. “Not for hunting. For management of the herds.”

“You can let go,” Kzelle reminded him.

With a smile that almost knocked her off her feet, he released her elbow, and took a step back. “I suppose an introduction is in order. Dunkirk Valmorth is my handle, as they say in the states.”

When she didn’t answer, he continued, “A bit stodgy, but mother is a stickler for family names.” 

“Well… Dunkirk Valmorth, did you see what I saw?”

“Ah, yes. I assume you are referring to the risen offspring of Quetzalcoatl. Quite the unexpected sighting, I agree.”

“You’re not a shapeshifter, how do you… what are you?” Kzelle realized she was having difficulty scenting him. A trace of smoke and saffron clung to his garments, but…

“I hope you will not be predisposed against my kind, as some are.” His dark eyes glittered, and a supernatural sheen covered them.

“Djinn,” she murmured, shock tingling her down to her toes.

“Actually, Princess Kzelle, if I might address you as such, I am from a human and djinn lineage begun an age ago.”

Her heart skipped a beat, then thumped hard and quick. “No wonder you could track me so easily. No wonder I never scented you.”

“My apologies for intruding on your privacy. However, I could not leave you unprotected.” With a small grin tipping up the corners of his oh-so sexy mouth, he offered his arm as if they were about to enter polite society.

Against her usual nature, Kzelle placed her arm on his. “Who should we inform about the serpent god?”


~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ 



Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~ 


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

May 2, 2013

Resurrection, a Fae Wolf’s Work Is Never Done by Savanna Kougar.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Savanna Kougar @ 4:10 am

  Wednesday kisses, shapeshifter lovers.

 Here are two consecutive blogs from last week, then this week. The flash scenes follow one another.

A big howling thanks to the EARTH DAY hoppers for their comments, and for stopping by during the LOVE A TREE, READ AN EBOOK blog hop.

Okay, I am about to doze off, so my flash scene will have to be polished up a bit, and  continued next week. It’s been a long, way too busy-busy day.

Resurrection, a Fae Wolf’s Work Is Never Done

Syressa hummed along with the harmonies of nature as she slowly flew in a circle above the mountain clearing. She nourished the native berry seeds with her love vibes, then sowed them with abandon.

There would be enough berries for all to feast on, for everyone and every animal who ventured this way. Hearing a thunderous bellow, then a roar of outrage, Syressa halted her flight.

Her heart thumped, and she hovered, her fae wings flapping only enough to keep her aloft. She listened to what could only be a huge male Grizzly bear challenge the beast invading his territory.

Immediately, her inner wolfess scented the tiger shapeshifter, and she heard the deadly charge, his leaping attack. Syressa winged swiftly toward the life-and-death battle now disturbing what had been a serene day.

“Oh no!” she burst out quietly, even as she grabbed onto a high tree branch, and clung. Instinctively, she positioned herself, hiding from the victor.

Sergei, the Siberian white tiger. Syressa recognized him only because she’d scouted out Talbot’s Peak, and spoke with Gypsy Red Wolf, before deciding to make her home in the forest close to the Pleasure Club.

Now…to her great sadness, the Grizzly lay in a distorted heap, his life force draining fast. Yet, the bear’s will to live remained strong, and he hung on with all the might of his grand ferocious being.

She could do nothing to help him yet. Her magick would activate against Sergei, not to stun, but to slay. Because the madness to kill still gripped him.

Now Sergei waited, hidden, watching for more prey. Closing her eyes, Syressa concentrated slipping a tiny stream of energy inside the Grizzly. Only enough to help him live, and hopefully not be detected by the assassin.

Oh yeah, she could read Sergei’s frequencies now, clear as the crystals that lived in her home.  It was why Syressa didn’t intervene when the tigress shifter and her cougar protector arrived, discovering the bear who looked dead.

So, the Grizzly was called Vesuvius. That certainly fit.

She knew from her fae sense that the woman and man were Sergei’s targets, but not for an assassination. Not yet, anyway.

The moment Sergei slipped into the forest as white tiger, Syressa floated to the ground. She crept silently toward Vesuvius at first, only waiting for Sergei to move out of range.

Summoning her healing force, she ran toward Vesuvius.





Spring has been a strange animal in my neck of the woods. And here we are at the end of April.

So, I’m busy revising RED LIONESS TAMED for Indie release, and hoping the waters will stay calm enough to finish.

Last week, I began a flash scene based on Pat Cunningham’s Monday flash, BAMF. My fae wolf heroine, Syressa, just had to use her power to save the bear, who wasn’t ready to leave this mortal realm. I hope you enjoy this feel good little scene.

To start, here’s the last two paragraphs of Resurrection, a Fae Wolf’s Work Is Never Done.

The moment Sergei slipped into the forest as white tiger, Syressa floated to the ground. She crept silently toward Vesuvius at first, only waiting for Sergei to move out of range.

Summoning her healing force, she ran toward Vesuvius.


The Resurrection of Vesuvius, a Bad-tempered Grizzly

Syressa dropped to her knees, and placed her palms as close to the grizzly bear’s heart as she could. Her power surged through her, hot, sparking like electricity, then bursting from her hands as miniature bolts of lightning.

Gradually, the bear’s life force filled him again. Syressa closed her eyes, feeling her energy hum through his bloodstream.

She followed the healing frequencies, making certain he was being totally rejuvenated. Surprised by the thread-sized obstacle inside him, she nearly jerked one of her hands away.

“Chipped,” she murmured. “Why have you been chipped, Vesuvius?”

Syressa frowned, well knowing this wasn’t the same type used on pets. She’d extracted so many of that cancer-causing tech, she’d lost count over the years.

“You’re not resurrecting him, are you?” a tiny feminine voice demanded.

From the corner of her eye, Syressa spied the wee fae, a flower keeper adorned in rose pink and spring green garments. The tiny being regarded her with an impudent expression, one itsy bitsy fist planted on her thrust hip.

“You should know better, since your one of us. Don’t you think?” The little fae’s eyes glowed, transmuting the air around her to an emerald color. “That giant, bellowing, stinky beast is nothing but nasty-tempered trouble. For all of us!”

“Too late now,” Syressa drily offered.  Vesuvius shuddered a bit beneath her hands, coming to life, but still not conscious.

“You wouldn’t believe the human-trash traffic we get here. All to fight this bear.” When Syressa raised a brow, the little fae continued. “You know, test your might against the big bad grizzly. Except, when Vesuvius loses to these chimera-clone creeps, they never finish him off. Put him out of his misery. And our misery.”

Syressa’s head spun, and her eyes widened at how Vesuvius had been cruelly used. She witnessed the terrible scene before her mind’s eye “Super soldiers. Is that what you’re talking about?”

“Super duper pooper, who cares? All I know is that the bear is more angry and miserable than before. And we pay for his raging outbursts. No one can get near the water. Now, you’re ‘saving’ him with your magick,” the little fae snidely sang.

“They’re baiting him into fighting them, right?” Syressa asked to increase her own psychic ‘knowing’.

She focused, vibrationally surrounding the nano-made fiber at the base of Vesuvius’s neck. “Never mind. I’ve found the problem.”

“What? The evil synthetic parasite in his neck. We all know about that. What does it matter?” Frustrated, livid, the little fae’s wings flapped lifting her off the ground. “No one can remove it. That would kill him.”

“Yes…it would,” Syressa murmured, as she gently flowed her force severing each  connection. At the same time, she drained the brain-controlling fiber of its bio energy.

“He’s waking up,” the little fae announced, her tone sour yet with a measure of hope.

“Got it,” Syressa triumphed moments later. She vaporized the nana-chip sending its harmless remains into the ethers.

“You know they’ll come looking for him.” The little fae winged higher, hovering before Syressa’s face. “They’ll know he isn’t dead.”

“I’m Syressa. Do you have a name?”

After a pause, the little fae flew backward a few feet. She gave her long silky blonde hair a shake. “Roselle, if you must know, wolf.”

Before Syressa could respond, Vesuvius rumbled loudly. He grunted several times with the effort of raising his head, and his entire body shook.

Standing, Syressa removed her hands from the bear’s thick bristly fur. She backed away to give him room.

Vesuvius rolled onto his belly attempting to get his bearings, but she knew his vision was foggy. “You’re okay,” she crooned. “Take your time. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

“He can’t stay here,” Roselle trilled in her high voice, as she floated farther away, twinkling the air around her.

“No, that wouldn’t be a good idea, would it, Vesuvius? How about coming with me?”

With a big ole shake of his head, and a small sharp bellow, the grizzly gained his feet. He wobbled but kept standing.

Long moments later, he eyed her. “Yes, I took the thorn out of your paw,” she teased, and bent toward him. “You’re free. They can’t control you anymore. You don’t have to fight everyone. Not that you can’t be big and tough like a bear should…okay, you understand.”

Syressa watched a grin slowly spread across the grizzly’s huge furry mug. That is, as much as a bear could smile.

He ambled toward her, and Syressa swung beside him, burying her hand in his fur. “I have some more seeds to spread. Then we’ll go home.”



~ Have a Magickal and Miraculous Week ~ 

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~


Originally posted at SHAPESHIFTER SEDUCTIONS ~ Turning Into Your Wildest Desire

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