fantasies that a hot, sexy man was in her bed. The idea was ludicrous.

Deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. She was wide awake now. She opened her eyes.

He was still there, sitting on the end of her bed, staring at her with what appeared to be…amusement? He laughed at her! He was in her house, her bed, and he laughed at her!

Callie sat up, the cover fell to her waist. His gaze dropped. She grabbed the sheet and pulled it against her chest. “Get out! Who are you? How did you get into my house? Where’s my gown?”

One eyebrow arched. “Are you always this emotionally unstable?”

“Emotionally…” she sputtered.

“Unstable,” he slowly and distinctly repeated.

“I am not emotionally unstable!” Oh God, she was arguing with the serial killer. She took another deep breath, then exhaled once more. She needed to stay calm. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to call the police.”

Oh, yeah, now he really looked nervous—not! He didn’t even flinch. Just sat there staring at her. And why wouldn’t he? He probably weighed around one-ninety. She would be no match for him.

Maybe if she kept him talking, he wouldn’t kill her right away. She’d once read somewhere that if you could befriend your abductor, then he would be less likely to kill you. Not that he’d abducted her, but he had apparently broken into her home. God, she hoped this worked.

“How…uh…did you find me?” Surely someone would’ve noticed a naked man following her car. For the first time in her life, Callie wished her rattletrap car went faster.

She frowned. How had he followed her? Her car wasn’t that slow. He probably had his own car. He’d waited for her to leave, then followed.

So, he drove around naked. And no one noticed this?

“Does it matter how I came to be here?” he asked.

“I guess not.” If she knew where he came from, then maybe she could talk him into going back, though. “Where are you from?”

“New Symtaria.”

“Never heard of it. Is that a suburb of Dallas?” New ones were cropping up all the time.

“It’s in another galaxy.”

All righty. “Another planet?”

He nodded, still looking amused about something.

“And you are?”

“Prince Rogar.”

Delusional. Probably escaped from the state hospital. This was worse than she ever could have imagined. Not only was he naked, but he was a nut. Automatically, her eyes strayed downward. She swallowed, then quickly jerked her gaze to a safer place. She had to stop looking…looking at him…down there. It wasn’t like she’d never seen a naked man before.

This was ridiculous. She needed help and all she could think about was staring at his…his nakedness. She had to call the police or something—911. Her cell phone was in her purse. From now on, she was keeping it on her bedside table. If there even was a from-now-on in her future. Okay, keep him talking.

“And why are you here?” She smiled. At least she tried to pull it off as a smile even though her stomach rumbled, and her hands were sweating, and she was probably going to throw up any second.

“To take you home.”

She looked around. “I am home, so…bye-bye.”

He grinned and she noticed his teeth were pearly white, and he had a nice smile. Ted Bundy probably had a nice smile, too.

“You’re part Symtarian,” he continued.

“Okayyy…” He thought she was from another planet, too. This was worse than she could’ve imagined.

“When our planet was dying, some of the people were sent to other places. An expedition went in search of a new planet to call home. Some of our people were forgotten, and became integrated with the aliens. Now we’re searching for them so we can bring them home.”

“And you’re doing it without clothes.”

“It happens when I shapeshift.”

“Well, of course, I should have guessed.” The guy was a raving lunatic. “And what form do you take?”

A fog began to roll across her bedroom. She glanced nervously around, then looked at her crazy guy. Her mouth dropped open as he slowly began to change.

The prince dude gritted his teeth and downed his head. His skin changed from flesh to short black hair with barely visible spots. He stretched out across her bed, his hand curling into a fist, becoming a paw.

Oh, God, she was crazy. Now she would never get her chance to work with the big cats—except in her warped mind. It wasn’t fair.

The fog rolled in thicker until all Callie saw were patches of black fur, a glimpse of golden eyes boring into her. She couldn’t move. She tried, but her legs wouldn’t budge.

The fog slowly dissipated.

The black jaguar from last night lay across the end of her bed, panting slightly. It met her gaze, and seemed as though it was gauging her reaction.

She opened her mouth, then closed it when no words came out. The cat purred from deep in its throat. She swallowed past the lump in hers. What if the jag was real? Maybe she wasn’t crazy. Oh, yeah, now she felt better. She was going to die. Then again, she might already be dead and this was hell.

Whatever it was, the jaguar was still stretched across the foot of her bed.

The room began to tilt, then grow dark, and she knew without a doubt, she was about to faint. She’d never fainted in her life.

Rogar’s spirit melded with that of the jaguar Balam, his animal guide. They were one, yet separate, their thoughts intertwining.

She didn’t take that very well at all. I told you it was too soon to change in front of her. She’s not used to it like we are, Balam’s thoughts mingled with Rogar’s.

Yes, this complicates matters, but surely the woman that bore her explained her existence, Rogar told him, hating that his animal guide had been right…again.

From her reaction, it’s doubtful. She can’t return without some knowledge of her ancestors. The shock would be too much. You’ll need to teach her our ways.

An irritation, but I will learn more about this planet while I’m here so all is not a waste.

Are you so sure she will leave Earth? Balam asked.

Of course she will return with me, she has no choice. This is her heritage. I shall convince her. I am a prince after all.

The fog rolled across the room, and the change began. The familiar ache in Rogar’s gut, the burning sensation that he had grown used to long ago.

Rogar became a man once again. He studied the young woman. She was quite beautiful, with dark hair and deep green eyes. Odd, but beautiful. The oddness must come from her Earth heritage.

She also seemed quite disturbed about his ability to shapeshift. She apparently had no knowledge of Symtarians. Did those she was born unto explain nothing? Others before him had brought back stories. Stories that some of the non–pure bloods were unaware of their origins. He wouldn’t be able to take her home until he taught her the ways of their people. Balam was correct that this complicated things.

He frowned.

She still hadn’t moved.

Could she be dead? He reached forward and took her hand, then let it fall back to the bed. Limp. It was a possibility the shock had killed her. He pulled on the cover, exposing more of her. No her chest moved up and down, so she still breathed.

Her chest moved very nicely. He pulled the cover to her ankles. She had a nice form. Her breasts were full, her waist small, and she had very long legs.

He moved closer, running the palm of his hand over her body, watching the nipples tighten. Her skin was

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