Claimed & Seduced by Shelley Munro Page A

curt nod. “You may go.”
    Jarlath shot to his feet and navigated the safest path through his mother’s clutter. Outside and away from her scrutiny, he checked the list, the neatly written names. His gut bucked like Black in a feisty mood and his feline jabbed, clawed, kicked beneath his skin, equally pissed. He ran up the central flight of stairs, his rapid footsteps muted by the thick red floor covering, and turned in the direction of his suite. A sharp pain in his right hand focused him in his agitated flight. He stared, then a genuine grin took hold, stretching his mouth so wide it ached. He held the list in a crumpled ball and four sharp claws protruded from beneath his fingernails. Even better, a dewclaw curled from beneath his thumb.
    Increasing to a sprint, he burst into his suite’s sitting room. He thumped on a door, which led to a smaller adjoining suite of rooms.
    “Ellard!”
    The door burst open, Ellard with his weapon drawn, eyes scanning the corners of the room. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
    Jarlath thrust out his hand with the claws still protruding. “Let’s go for a run.” He slid his saddlebag off his shoulder and set it on a low table.
    “But how?” Ellard stared at Jarlath’s hand, slack-jawed and incredulous.
    “I don’t know.” Theories, Jarlath had, but he wasn’t about to share them with his friend since he was certain this had something to do with Keira. “I don’t care. Let’s go.”
    Jarlath made for the door he’d raced through mins earlier.
    “Wait, let me get my other blaster.” Ellard darted deeper into his suite, light on his feet, despite his size. He reappeared and strapped his weapon to his leg. “Let’s go.”
    Excitement pulsed through Jarlath as they clattered down the stairs and left the castle via a side gate. They nodded to the sentry and strode to the walled garden where the pair of them habitually carried out weapons training, away from the notice of the rest of the staff and more importantly, his parents.
    His father and mother believed diplomacy should come before war, and although, the castle had an efficient fighting force, the Virosian royal family shouldn’t train to take up arms to defend themselves. Lynx had informed his parents the idea was stupid, and Jarlath had to agree. As a royal, he felt it was important to possess a variety of skills and lead from the front. Luckily, Danion Tetsu had agreed and he’d quietly taught the princes along with his two sons. Jarlath and Ellard continued to train in private to keep up their skill levels.
    “Do you want to try a shift here? There’s plenty of room to run and no one else uses this garden apart from us.”
    Jarlath felt his feline shudder and the beginning of the shift commence. He struggled to free himself of his tunic to no avail. His feline burst from him, out of control. The fabric of his tunic ripped even as a tortured groan rushed up his throat.
    Fukk , this hurt worse than his first time. Every twist, every stretch, every pop of muscle and bone seemed louder, more painful than ever before.
    He cried out and fell forward onto all fours. Panting, he tried to relax, even as his body fought to reshape. Fur rippled beneath the torn remnants of his tunic, and his trews and boots melted into his new form.
    Scents and sounds battered his senses, the enrichment a shock after confinement for so long within his humanoid form. He flicked his tail and stretched, the shredded material inhibiting him. Jarlath gave a grumpy bark and attempted to wriggle free.
    A chuckle sounded. “Jarlath, keep still. Let me help you.” Competent hands tugged the fabric free until nothing hampered him. “ Cristo , I’m so glad we can run together again. I’ve missed running with you and I don’t mean that in a weird way either.”
    Jarlath barked, the caterwaul impatient and demanding.
    Ellard chuckled again, but set his shoulder holster aside and tugged his tunic over his head, baring a broad and muscular chest and