Claimed by the Tiger: Woodland Creek

By AE Gatta and Woodland Creek

Woodland Creek Series.

30 Authors. 30 Shifter Stories.

http://woodlandcreekseries.com

Getting Ellie Ashford into bed was supposed to be a matter of business, but as soon as Tiger Shifter Silas Navaro caught sight of her, all he could think about was pleasure. It should have been an easy enough task—creating a child to help save their pack from extinction. But when Silas breaks the news to Ellie, he discovers that mating is the least of their concerns…

Mild-mannered English Professor Ellie Ashford is losing her mind. There’s no other way to explain why she’d actually believe that she’s some sort of super natural being or why this sexy stranger suddenly wants to “mate” with her. Still, none of it matters. Not really. Because when Silas finds out about her secret? It may spell more danger for them than either could ever dream of…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allison Gatta
• Release date: Nov 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519904591

Book preview

Chapter 1

Silas Navaro had hit the jackpot.

When he'd walked into the brick-covered collegiate lecture hall today, he'd expected any number of things—a beastly woman, a dull, humorless book nerd, or worst of all, someone completely unremarkable in every way. Not that it would have mattered. He was here to do his duty to the pack, and he wouldn't let them down, even if he'd been assigned to a woman who felt that darning socks was the most fascinating hobby in the world.

Hell, that's what he'd been prepared for. His pack mates had told him just about every horror story in the book, including one mate who'd insisted on calling out her own name during sex. Silas still shivered just thinking about that one.

Does anyone have a guess as to what Blake is referring to in the final stanza? Her voice called him back to the present, and he studied her again.

Ellie Ashford, adjunct professor of English Literature and his arranged mate.

Maybe she'd have some kind of weird kink. Like she had to recite Shakespeare's sixteenth before she came or something. Somehow, with her, he didn’t think he’d mind that much.

Not for a woman this fucking gorgeous.

Most of the tiger shifter women he'd met looked like a female version of himself. Thick, jet black hair that fanned out in waves, sharp cheek bones that led to bright, almost cat-like green eyes.

But that wasn't Ellie Ashford.

Sure, she paced the classroom with a gracefulness that was almost otherworldly, making her long, gauzy peasant skirt billow around her ankles. But everything about her was just as graceful and feminine as her walk. Her cheekbones were high, but they didn't give her the cut of a heroin chic model. Instead, they rounded out with nearly cherub-like sweetness. Her eyes were bright and interested, but they were a clear, crystalline blue.

Her hair was dark, but when she moved, he caught the faintest glint of red in her strands. It was intriguing...

Almost as intriguing as why a woman this beautiful had been assigned to him in the first place.

His phone buzzed, so he dug it from his pocket, and then glanced at the message as surreptitiously as he could manage.

So? Good news?

It was from his pack mate, Jessie. He'd gotten his assignment last year and was all-too-thrilled to see if Silas had gotten someone interesting to mate with.

He typed back a hasty gorgeous, but before he hit send, someone plucked the phone from his hand.

He glanced up to find Ellie glowering at him, his phone pinched between her thumb and forefinger. Are you sharing your love of the romantic poets with someone? She raised her eyebrows. Because at the moment, that's what we're talking about.

Right, he grumbled.

She tilted her mouth to the side, then said, You can pick this up when class is over and you return to the outside world. In this classroom, we're only discussing the genius of William Blake. Now. She stalked past him, opened a drawer of her tiny metal desk, and tossed his phone inside.

With a little click of the drawer, she continued, Let's look at the connotation of the verbs, shall we? In the first stanza, Blake writes 'could frame thy fearful symmetry' and in the last, he writes 'dare frame thy fearful symmetry.' What do you make of it? How about you, phone boy? She raised her eyebrows at Silas, a slight smile tilting her full, luscious lips.

Ha. She thought she had him caught between her talons.

He cleared his throat in an effort to hide his answering grin.

If there was one poem on earth for him to be familiar with, this one was it. I think Blake is discussing the strangeness of the tiger and how, though it's beautiful, it's also deadly and terrible. He paused, wondering if she heard the double meaning in his words. If maybe, even now, she could guess why he'd suddenly appeared in her class.

Unable to help himself, he allowed his eyes to glow slightly, only for a second, before continuing, Blake is saying it's not so much that an almighty creator could or couldn't create the tiger, he just wonders why you'd frame something so gorgeous in something so ferocious.

She studied him, a question buried deep in her narrowed eyes, and for the briefest of moments, he thought he saw a pink glow cover her cheeks. Just as quickly, it fled, and she was all sternness and academia again. Very good.

Her attention snapped from him, and she carried on with her lecture as if he'd never spoken at all.

The rest of the class passed the way he remembered it from when he'd been a student and not an undercover operative of sorts. Though, even in his years at university, he couldn't remember any of his professors sounding as devoted to their subject as Ellie Ashford was.

The way she read the prose was like she tasted every word, savored it, and let it slide down her throat slowly. Like no detail could afford to be wasted. Like everything was deeply, drastically important.

Silently, he watched her pacing the aisles of desks, pausing here and there as she listened, enraptured, to one student or another's interpretation.

The more he saw, the more he wanted to raise his hand and press his luck with her again, if only to watch the way her thoughtful eyes softened and focused on him, the way her mouth crooked to the side.

Did she treat every aspect of her life this way? So seriously? So intently?

No doubt a habit like that would make her one hell of a shifter. She probably ran seamlessly through the trees, having memorized every little pebble and stream in the nearby reserve. He could practically picture her already, her shiny orange and white coat glinting in the moonlight as he chased her.

And then when she changed back...

He swallowed hard, willing himself to focus on the class at hand rather than the images rolling through his mind. Ellie's curvy, lithe body transforming from feline to female, naked in that same moonlight. He bet her creamy white skin would look even better in the dim glow than her fur. And her breasts...

He caught himself staring at the swell beneath the hem of her plain cotton top just in time to find her gaze locked on him, her expression caught somewhere between disapproval and, if he didn't know better, he might have said intrigue.

Then, she turned sharply and made for the dry erase board behind her. All right, guys, good discussion today. Now, for next time, I want you to read pages 394, 275, and 853. Wordsworth. Won't that be fun? She shot the class a wide, flashing grin over her shoulder in answer to their groans.

The pupils around him stuffed their books into bags and satchels, then shuffled from the room, a low murmur starting the rise as they made for the door.

Don't complain yet. Ellie called over them. We haven't even given gotten to Yeats. Just you wait.

She started scribbling in the little notebook in front of her, looking up as one student or the other stopped nearby to ask a question. All the while, Silas stayed put, waiting until they were completely alone.

When the last of the stragglers shuffled from the room, he approached her desk.

She was aware of him. He knew as much by the peach flush that crept over her cheeks, the way her pen moved more jerkily with every step he took. Still, she didn't look up.

Excuse me, Professor, he said when he'd reached the very edge of her desk.

Ah, Mr.... She glanced at him a little too casually, then squinted, her lips quirked to the side. I'm sorry, I'm not sure I remember seeing you in here before.

Ah. Right. She's going to act like she doesn't know why I'm here.

Maybe it was some kind of roleplaying fantasy she was hoping to fulfill. Either way, he was more than happy to oblige, so he answered, "Mr. Nivaro. Silas."

I'll stick with Mr. Nivaro if you don't mind.

Of course. He shoved his hand in his pockets and waited, but she only stared up at him while shuffling papers in her hands.

The air was still between them, and after one long moment, she asked, Can I...?

My phone? he asked.

Yes. Right. She pulled it from her drawer, and set it on the desk in front of him. When he moved to retrieve it, their fingers brushed for a moment, and now there was no mistaking it, her cheeks turned a bright, rosy pink.

The blush made her blue eyes even more beautiful, and he was on the edge of telling her as much when he remembered himself. They'd have to lay out some ground rules before he got too familiar. At least emotionally familiar.

He cleared his throat. "Listen, are you available during your office hours this