Winter Solstice Howls and Investigating the Tiger Yakuza

Winter Solstice howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers... oh, yes! It’s been overcast all day. However, the clouds just thinned enough to see an early stage of the lunar eclipse. Almost straight overhead Luna is about a third of the way in shadow. She is looking lovely and mystical.

Here we are at a cosmic turning point. This marriage between the Winter Solstice and a Lunar Eclipse will bring forth, and unite, the feminine and masculine energies in a whole new way. These new dynamics will, in time, change the entire landscape of how women and men relate to each other. For the better.

It will also change how we view ourselves. Given we are composed of both feminine and masculine energy...we are yin and yang...those opposites inside us will become understood at a higher level. And we will use this higher understanding to express ourselves in powerful ways.
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White Fang Kent, Investigating the Tiger Yakuza

White Fang balanced himself on the narrow ledge outside of Damien Hancock’s mountainside mansion. Watching the eye glints of Hancock’s pack sentinels, he avoided detection as he inched toward the large office window, designed to look down upon the town of Talbot’s Peak.

Despite their hot and panting passion for each other -- despite the fact he’d been about to crush Pasha’s lush mouth beneath his for the first time -- her magick eye had suddenly manifested between them.

Both of them stilled, mesmerized by the golden brilliance rotating before their gazes. Even as the eye pulsed, its radiance almost blinding, Pasha continued sensually stroking his back. White Fang kept her tight against him, his palms filled with her firm blatant ass.

“Watch,” she murmured. Lifting her hand, she brushed it with her fingertips.

Compelled by the scene captured within the magically formed eye, White Fang focused. Several of the Yakuza ran the forest as tigers.

He felt Pasha go rigid for several seconds. Spinning out of his arms, she swiftly changed into outdoor gear.

Silently taking hold of his hand, his goddess seductress swept her hand in a circle. She led him through a phase portal, then unerringly wove them through the dense forest.

Once they arrived at the exact spot he’d seen, she followed a glistening ribbon of light to its endpoint. Halting them inside a stand of saplings, she faced him and whispered, “This is where I first caught sight of Khan’s seven sons. Their lair must be close.”

Despite his fierce-humping need for her, White Fang managed to single out each Tiger’s faint scent. It didn’t take him long to memorize the seven unique, but similar smells of Khan’s cubs.

Somehow, he’d convinced Pasha to return with him to Dante’s pleasure club instead of hunting them down. Before he departed, intent on investigating the Tiger Yakuza’s every move, Pasha had grabbed hold of him molding her sex-kitten curves to his body.

Seductively sinking her fingers into his hair, she fisted. As she passionately brought his mouth to hers, her hunger sizzled every nerve he owned. The kiss she laid on him still singed his lips and banged his balls.

White Fang scanned for Hancock’s prowling sentinels as he braced himself against the window’s prominent frame. Still unseen, he turned up his super hearing.

Seconds later, White Fang nearly choked. Tears sprang to his eyes. Lykouz! Sure hell enough, the tangy, incense-saturated odor of Shere Khan’s third son might as well have fang-clamped around his throat.

He’d caught Tasman’s scent from his den lookout, close to the Tiger Yakuza’s base of operation. After rapidly shifting to his human form, White Fang had jerked on his chameleon suit. Like a second skin, the suit altered to match his surroundings, and also obscured his scent.

Charging to superspeed, White Fang followed a shortcut up the peak. Now his hunch, backed by investigation, proved out.

Obviously, at some time in the past, Damien Hancock had joined his unsavory paw with the Tiger Yakuza. Otherwise, the so-called Lord Khan would never have sent his son to arrange another ‘understanding’.

White Fang tamped down his sense of smell, and pressed his ear against the rock wall. What he heard confirmed every suspicion and more, so much leaping-over-tall-buildings more.

The Tiger Yakuza also wanted his hide nailed to the wall. No Great Caesar’s Ghost surprise to him. For an instant White Fang grinned at himself. He had to like the Superman character, given their similarities.

Preparing to slip away, White Fang debated with himself. Should he track Devon down first? Protect him from the slice and dice claws of the Yakuza? Or, should he contact Brand first, let his long-time friend know...

“What the dog-damn fuck!” Damien bellowed.

Before White Fang whipped forward and dived, he caught sight of the dirty-paw tyrant’s enraged face. His muzzle had popped out, his whiskers flattening as he bared his teeth.

Righting himself, White Fang spun in the air like an ice skater. With ease, he lessened his falling speed, then landed on top of Damien’s spit-shiny limousine. Above the resounding thud, he heard Hancock barking orders.

“Rip that son of a gamma bitch apart. I want his scat balls hanging on my trophy wall.”

With a pack of slavering werewolves racing toward him, White Fang grabbed the keys from the chauffeur’s furry clawed hand. Leaping inside the limo, he slammed the door, started the engine, and stomped on the accelerator.
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~ HAPPY WINTER SOLSTICE ~

Savanna

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~