Heart of the Panther (Cold Hearts #2)

Prologue

Elara

Tears slid down her face as she stared down at the sunken face of her mother. Cold fingers twitched weakly against hers, and she gently squeezed.

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t happening.

Elara slammed her eyes shut, praying this was all a nightmare.

That her mother wasn’t slowly slipping away.

An unnatural cold crept up Elara’s back. A chill which never quite left her.

Her mother always laughed at how Elara needed multiple furs to keep warm. Even in the sunny season. Over the years, Elara had to learn to navigate the flashes of ice in her veins, brushing it off, even when deep down, something didn’t sit right in her belly.

Breathing in, Elara gazed down at her mother. The crushing weight of reality hit her so hard it knocked the air from her lungs.

Across from her, her father’s lips rested on her mother’s sweaty temple, murmuring words Elara couldn’t hear.

The infection spread quickly, the fever uncontrollable. It had been a minor wound; the healer hadn’t been concerned after the wolf injured her. But within a day, her mother’s condition deteriorated.

Now, Elara sat over her mother’s bed, preparing for the inevitable.

An inevitable which slipped into her dreams only a few weeks ago.

For as long as she could remember, Elara always had vivid dreams, but in the last ten years, they had turned into something more foreboding.

More than once, those dreams turned into reality.

Usually, it had been something small: the foretelling of a massive storm or the loss of one of their sheep. She learned to ignore them.

Most of the time, her dreams were nothing more than that—dreams.

So, when Elara had a nightmare about her mother, sick in her furs, clinging to Elara’s hand, she didn’t think much of it.

Until now.

“Momma,” Elara whispered, the choked sound catching in her throat. “Don’t leave. Please. We need you. Don’t go. Don’t go.”

Each sob became more strangled than the last.

They lived in a quiet English hamlet, their farm the largest one within a day’s travel. The cows and goats supplied meat and milk for the entire village. They never had a lot, but they had each other.

Her parents doted on her. She might not have had fancy silks or a large home, but they loved her fiercely. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye. There was still so much to do. So much she needed her mother for.

For when she fell in love.

For when she had her first child.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” her mother coughed, weakly stroking Elara’s knuckles. “It appears there are other plans for me. Take care of your father for me.”

Her father cleared his throat, refusing to show weakness in front of his girls. It may not have been obvious, yet his grief hung thickly in the room—cloying and consuming.

“I promise, Momma.” No matter how much pain she was in, Elara had to temper it. Her mother couldn’t move on with any lingering worries. “Papa and I will be okay.”

Even though the words felt like a lie, she uttered them with more conviction than she felt. How were they supposed to live without her? Without her warm smiles and tight hugs. A rasping, quiet voice cut through the din of her spiraling thoughts.

“Eadwine. I’m sorry… I…”

“Shhh, my love. Edith,” her father murmured, bringing Edith’s palm to his cheek. “Take my love with you. We will meet again.”

As if she’d been waiting for permission, Edith’s chest rattled with a shuddering, gasping breath. All the warmth in her eyes dimmed out, her hand going limp in Elara’s.

Short, sobbing breaths left Elara as her entire body trembled.

She glanced through wet lashes.

For the first time, her father cried, openly wept over her mother’s body, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from her face. Grief sapped all the love that had once enveloped the space.

It stabbed her, making each breath more impossible than the last.

It felt as though she was intruding on something private. Something she should not be witnessing. She might have been Elara’s mother, but her father loved Edith first.

Quietly, she rose to her feet, careful not to disturb her father, and slipped outside.

Eventually, they’d need to tend to her mother’s remains.

But it could wait.

Each step dragged on until she reached a massive oak, the bark digging into her palms. The last of her strength faded, and she collapsed to her knees.

In the forest's shadow, Elara wept, wrapping her arms around her waist and sobbing until she passed out.