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Indian, but I wasn’t born on the damn reservation or raised in the—” He raised his hands, fingers making quote marks in the air. “—old ways of our people.”
    Dakoda swallowed, remembering the icy prickle she’d felt when she’d first witnessed Jesse shift from cougar to human. “How did you find out?”
    Jesse hesitated a beat, then said, “One of the elders of the Tlvdatsi clan tracked me down. Here I am be-bopping along, doing my thing in college, and some ancient shaman shows up telling me it’s time to return to our homeland and reestablish our connection with our ancestors.” He was suddenly restless, pacing the small cell. His muscular legs seemed way too damn long for the small space. With each step he took, the blanket around his narrow hips shifted lower. “And then he springs the whole cougar thing on me…I’m thinking for sure the old man’s been hitting the pipe a little hard, if you know what I mean.”
    Watching the blanket creep ever lower, Dakoda felt a tremor of yearning down low in her core. A little bit more of their grim reality faded, and she was grateful for the distraction.
    Clearing her throat, she cocked a brow toward his waist. “Ah, Jesse, if you don’t get a grab on that, you’ll be losing your cover.”
    A grin split his lips as he shot her a suggestive smile. “Anything I got that you would like to see?” he hinted.
    Her pulse raced all over again at the pull of his sheer male power, drawing her like a physical force. “I’ve seen it already,” she deadpanned.
    â€œAnd?”
    Dakoda licked dry lips. She’d like to see it again, in an up-close-and-personal way. His presence was making her body ache. He smelled of heat and musk and yet a third unique odor she couldn’t quite place, one that insisted on teasing her with its mystery. Pheromones . The scent of a male.
    She trembled, muscles clenching deep inside at the thought of skin pressed against naked skin. Not now , she warned herself.
    â€œAnd what else did he tell you?” she countered, reluctant to drag her mind away from lustier pursuits.
    Jesse huffed, tucking the blanket tighter. “He didn’t tell me anything. He showed me. The shift .” Eyebrows drawing together in a perplexed furrow, he shook his head. “That was when I considered the weed I’d been smoking must be dusted with some serious hallucinogens.”
    She frowned. “You’re joking, I hope.”
    He raked his hands through his long hair, skimming the thick strands away from his face. “About the pot. Yeah. About the old man shifting. No. All I can say is that I became a believer that day.”
    Dakoda tried to envision herself shifting. She couldn’t. It seemed too damn incredible to even imagine. Seeing Jesse manage the feat still hadn’t made a believer out of her. There was still the possibility she’d lost her mind, and just hadn’t figured it out yet. “I guess anyone would,” she allowed.
    Jesse gave a slow, wry smile. “He also told me it was time for the gathering, for the Tlvdatsi to return to the mountains and learn the old ways before they died out. Of the seven clans of Cherokees, ours is the last that remembers how to shift.”
    â€œSo you moved to the mountains?” she asked.
    He nodded. “Since I was flunking accounting, I went ahead and dropped out.” A scoffing sound escaped him. “Ah, what Indian wants to wear the white man’s costumes and count his money all day, anyway?”
    Dakoda nibbled her lower lip in thought. “Must have been hard, leaving one life behind for another.”
    He looked at her a long moment, then shrugged. “Not so hard, really. For the last couple of years we’ve been working to reestablish the clan and become recognized by the federal government as a legitimate sanctuary for the cougars.”
    Dakoda smiled.