But he would follow each to the end, tracking her for as long as it took. She’d been born for him. And I was born to find her….

Terrain passed beneath his feet for half an hour before he located her true trail. With the innate stealth of his kind, he prowled closer, hunting this huntress in the now drizzling rain.

The swamp made it easy for him to approach her undetected. There were a thousand shadows to conceal him, with animals constantly creeping about to distract her.

Once he spied her again, he just stopped himself from sucking in a breath. Up close, she was even lovelier than he’d thought her. She had to be a Valkyrie, one among a species of women both notoriously beautiful… and notoriously fierce.

Her features were stunning—high, bold cheekbones, plump lips, and a slim, pixie nose—but her coloring made her beyond compare. Her skin was golden and smooth, her eyes the color of Scots whiskey.

She was of middling height and curvy, wearing a wet white T-shirt that hugged generous breasts. Khaki shorts fitted tightly over her pert arse and displayed shapely legs. Her hair was long—a dark mane, heavy with rain.

On her right hand, she wore a leather shooting glove. A long leather forearm guard stretched from her left wrist to her elbow. Who knew archery gear could be so sexy?

His female would wear her leathers when he took her curvy wee body tonight. At the thought, his shaft hardened in his damp jeans, and he almost growled.

Instead, he silently followed her, watching as she closed in on the prey he’d already scented in the burrows beneath them.

If she was in fact a Valkyrie, she’d possess superhuman senses like his own—keen hearing and the ability to see in the dark or over long distances. Yet her sense of smell wouldn’t be nearly as developed as his own. She’d need to track the creature by sight and sound—and she was doing so expertly.