Her Cougar, page 1
HER COUGAR
FIONA DAVENPORT
Copyright © 2025 by Fiona Davenport
Cover designed by Elle Christensen
Edited by Jenny Sims (Editing4Indies)
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
Her Cougar
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Epilogue
About the Author
HER COUGAR
After aging out of foster care, Elodie Chase survived a year on her own. When a storm forced her to park near a remote construction site, she expected nothing more than another night of keeping her head down. Instead, she found Garner Wilder—a man who made her feel safe before she understood why.
Garner knew Elodie was his mate the moment he scented her. The human woman with tired eyes and a strength called to his cougar like nothing ever had. And when sabotage threatened his project—and her safety—he refused to let her out of his sight.
PROLOGUE
ELODIE
Icouldn’t remember a single birthday that had felt special, but this was the worst of the bunch.
Everything I owned was stuffed into the backpack I’d used throughout high school, a cheap duffel, and a black garbage bag. At eighteen years old, I officially aged out of the foster system. Which meant no more payments from the state to my foster parent. And since I graduated a semester early, she didn’t see any reason to let me stay.
The screen door creaked behind me before closing with a soft click. Mrs. Jarvis hovered just inside the frame. “You’ve got all your stuff?”
I hefted the duffel over my shoulder. “Yeah.”
“Okay then.” She gave a stiff nod. “Good luck out there.”
I didn’t know why I expected more from her. I wasn’t even sure what exactly. Maybe reassurance of some kind that I’d be okay…or even a hug. Which was silly since she’d always been more about checking boxes to make sure she got paid than showing actual concern for my well-being. Now there was no more money to be had from housing me, so even that minimal level of worry was apparently a thing of the past.
I stepped off the porch without bothering to reply, my boots crunching against the gravel. There wasn’t a single person waiting for me. No safety net. Just me.
My throat tightened, but I squared my shoulders and reminded myself that I’d gotten this far without the kind of support most teenagers took for granted. I just had to keep going. There wasn’t really any other choice.
I’d just reached the mailbox when a familiar thump sounded behind me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath. I’d almost escaped without crying, but here came the one creature capable of breaking me.
Knowing exactly what I’d find, I turned around. Mr. Pickles waddled toward me, his round belly swaying side to side. The cantankerous tabby head-butted my shin and let out a gravelly yowl that I assumed was a complaint about me leaving without saying goodbye.
I set my bags on the ground and crouched to stroke his back. “Hey, buddy.”
He pushed his face into my palm, purring so loudly it rattled his ribs.
“I know,” I whispered, scratching under his chin the way he liked. “I don’t want to go either.”
He meowed, then pawed at my bag as if he wanted to come with me.
A laugh bubbled up, thick with emotion. “Pretty pathetic that the only one I’ll miss is a cat named Mr. Pickles.”
It made sense, though. He was the only one in that house who ever sought me out on purpose. The closest thing I’d ever had to family was a fat, grumpy cat. And I had to walk away from him because I had no idea how I was going to take care of myself, let alone a pet.
“Thanks for making this place bearable.” I gave him one last scratch before picking up my bags and straightening. “Give the next foster kid she takes in a chance. They’re going to need all the help they can get.”
I would too, but there was nothing Mr. Pickles could do about that. So I forced myself to turn around. Then I adjusted the straps of my backpack and started walking. The bus station was a mile away, and I’d already mapped out the route in my head. From there, I’d go wherever the cheapest fare would take me. Somewhere that wasn’t quite as hot, just in case I couldn’t find an inexpensive hostel. I needed my money to stretch as far as it could.
I had two hundred and forty-three dollars tucked into my wallet. A backpack with a couple of changes of clothes, toiletries, a few books, and a folder with my important documents—birth certificate, social security card, diploma, and immunization records. The trash bag and duffel held the rest of my meager belongings.
That was it.
As soon as I arrived wherever I ended up, I needed to get a job. Any job. I couldn’t afford to be picky.
Maybe even two jobs since I was willing to work long hours.
I’d save every extra dollar until I could afford a car. Something that meant I had a place to crash if I outstayed my welcome anywhere—with the added bonus of being transportation too.
Needing help wasn’t an option because there was no one left to ask.
The plan was simple enough to be comforting.
It was also terrifying with how easily it could fall apart.
But it was all I had for now.
1
ELODIE
Over the past year, I’d gotten farther from my hometown than I ever expected. I had stayed in a couple of big cities, where I enjoyed the anonymity, but it hadn’t taken long for me to realize they weren’t what I wanted long term. I felt less lonely surrounded by people who liked to get into each other’s business, so I stuck with smaller towns as I made my way west.
But I’d never seen anything quite as gorgeous as the mountains framed in my windshield as I drove down the highway. I had planned to be on the road for a few more hours, but I found myself taking the next exit instead.
The town’s main drag looked like something out of a romcom with quaint little shops and pretty window displays. Snow still clung to the edges of the road even though spring was technically underway, and it only made the scene more picturesque.
My eyes scanned the awnings for anything that might mean a job opportunity and finally spotted a diner. It sat on the corner with big front windows and a flickering sign that promised Breakfast All Day. The parking lot behind the building wasn’t full, but it wasn’t empty either, which I took as a good sign since it was smack-dab between the usual times for the lunch and dinner rush.
The only problem was that I didn’t see a Now Hiring sign in the window.
I hesitated anyway, my foot easing off the gas.
Even if they didn’t have an opening, I could at least go inside and get a cup of coffee. Pretend, for a few minutes, that I was just another person passing through and not someone low on options.
I pulled into the lot and shut off the engine, taking a breath before climbing out of my car.
The bell above the door jingled when I stepped inside, and warmth washed over me instantly. The scent of something savory made my stomach rumble, and I second-guessed my decision. It’d been too long since I’d had a decent meal because I needed to make every dollar stretch as far as it could.
I paused just inside, suddenly aware of how out of place I probably looked. I was an exhausted stranger with a backpack slung over one shoulder, which held my documents and cash. I couldn’t risk anyone breaking into my car, so I took it everywhere with me.
A woman behind the counter glanced up and smiled. “Seat yourself, hon.”
I slid onto a stool a few seats down from her, tucking my hands between my knees while I waited.
“What can I get you?” she asked a moment later, her name tag glinting against her uniform.
“Just…black coffee, please.”
Sharon nodded and poured without comment. When she set the cup in front of me, I wrapped my hands around it and soaked in the heat.
“Cold out there today?”
I nodded. “Yeah, more than I expected.”
That earned a small smile before she moved on to the next customer.
I watched plates slide past, loaded with sandwiches piled high with meat and toppings, hoping my stomach would behave. Breathing out slowly, I took a careful sip of my coffee.
At least I was warm. For the moment, that was enough.
I waited until my coffee was almost gone. Wrapping my hands around the mug, even though it had gone lukewarm, I rehearsed the words in my head. I’d done this enough times over the past year that I should’ve been good at it by now.
I have serving experience and thought I’d ask if you’re hiring?
My heart still beat a little too fast when I finally cleared my throat.
“Excuse me.” I caught Sharon’s attention as she passed by again. “I was wondering if you might need an extra server. Even part-time.”
She paused to study me, and hope flared before I could stop it.
“I’ve worked in diners before,” I rushed to add. “I’m used to long shifts. Doubles if you need them.
Her eyes softened with apology as she set the coffee pot down. “I’m really sorry. We just hired someone last week.”
I pushed my disappointment down. “Of course. I understand.”
She disappeared into the kitchen after that, and I told myself not to be discouraged. There were plenty of other towns ahead where I could find work.
I stayed where I was and finished the last sip of my coffee. The sizzle from the grill carried through the diner. My stomach twisted, and I focused on the crack in the counter instead of how hungry I felt. But then a plate landed in front of me.
I startled, my gaze snapping up to a cheeseburger with a heap of golden fries. The bun was toasted, the patty thick, and the cheese melted perfectly over the edges. Lettuce, tomato, and pickles were piled neatly to the side.
My mouth watered as I mumbled, “I didn’t order—”
Sharon waved a hand, already turning back toward the kitchen. “Customer didn’t want cheese. Just a hamburger. Would’ve gone to waste.”
We both knew that wasn’t true.
I stared at the plate, heat rising behind my eyes. “I don’t have—”
She sighed and finally faced me fully. “Can’t help with the job, but at least I can fill your belly with food I would’ve thrown out.”
My chest ached at her kindness. I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Thank you.”
She flashed me a quick smile and disappeared into the kitchen again.
I ate slowly, savoring every bite. Generosity wasn’t something I ran into often. For a few minutes, sitting in a warm diner with real food in front of me, I didn’t feel quite so invisible.
I slid off the stool once my plate was empty, my stomach warm in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.
Sharon caught my eye as I reached for my wallet. “You don’t need to—”
“I know.” I pulled out a five-dollar bill and set it on the counter anyway. “Please.”
She frowned, her gaze flicking to the empty plate. “That was just—”
“Kindness,” I finished quietly. “Which I appreciate more than you can know.”
For a moment, she looked like she might argue. Then she sighed and nodded once, like she understood this wasn’t really about the food.
“All right. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“So do I.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder and offered her a small smile. “Thank you. Really.”
She waved as I headed for the door, and the bell jingled behind me as I stepped back out into the cold.
I was full for the first time in days, but it didn’t make leaving any easier.
My hands rested on the steering wheel while I sat in my car with the engine off. A year ago, I hadn’t even had this.
Every spare dollar I’d earned had gone toward this crappy beater. I had worked awful shifts, picked up doubles, and smiled at people who barely paid attention to me. I’d slept in youth hostels when I could, cheap motels when I couldn’t, and the back seat when I ran out of options.
The car wasn’t much. It rattled if I went over sixty and made a concerning noise every time I turned it off. But it was mine. It gave me more freedom than I’d ever had before.
Exhaustion settled deep in my bones as I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. Not the kind of tired a good night’s sleep could fix. Always having to be careful was more draining than anyone would ever guess.
I straightened after a moment and started the engine.
I could rest later.
Right now, I needed to find somewhere safe to spend the night.
The gas light blinked on, not even a mile from the diner.
I swore under my breath and eased off the accelerator, watching the needle hover stubbornly a few tick marks above empty like it was daring me to push my luck. I checked my cheap, prepaid phone at the next stoplight and groaned when I saw I had only one bar of service.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, rain began to tap against the windshield. The mountains ahead disappeared behind a curtain of gray, and the temperature dropped enough that I cranked the heat up.
I knew I couldn’t stay in town overnight. There were too many No Overnight Parking signs. I couldn’t afford the ticket or the tow. And sleeping in a car where someone might notice was never a good call.
I needed a spot that was quiet and out of the way.
I drove until the buildings thinned and the road narrowed, following a turnoff that looked barely used. The pavement gave way to packed dirt, and my tires crunched softly as I slowed.
Signs were posted—something about construction access and authorized vehicles. But they were half hidden by brush, and nobody was around.
The rain picked up, drumming harder against the roof as I pulled off to the side where the ground flattened just enough to park.
I shut off the engine and sat there for a moment, listening to it tick as it cooled.
Just one night. That was all I needed. A dry, quiet place to sleep until morning. I’d move on as soon as the sun came up.
I climbed into the back seat, tugged my blanket around my shoulders, and snagged my book from my backpack. I’d read until the light faded, then pile on extra clothes to make sure I stayed warm while I slept.
I didn’t notice how still the forest had gone. Or that I’d chosen a spot that was about to change everything.
2
GARNER
Pre-dawn light filtered through the trees as I prowled the perimeter of the construction site, my senses alert. The world had been washed clean by last night’s storm. Rain clung to pine needles and soaked into the earth, making any lingering scents more noticeable.
This was my favorite time of day—when I could let my cougar free without worrying about being spotted. My muscles ate up the ground in long, silent strides. My paws sank into damp soil without a sound. Powerful and controlled. Exactly as I was meant to be.
This wasn’t a patrol I had to think about. My body knew the route as well as my mind did. Every rise and dip of the land, boundary marker, and place where trouble might try to creep in if I wasn’t watching.
The land had become my responsibility when my family’s construction company bought it, but I’d considered it mine long before then. It was only thirty minutes from the wilderness my pack called home, and my beast had always been drawn to this area.
I leaped over a fallen branch. The storm had left its mark. Mud churned where runoff had cut too fast through a slope. There were fresh tracks from a deer near the creek. I cataloged it all without slowing, my instincts sorting threat from harmless as easily as breathing.
Then I caught it.
Disturbed ground near the access road. Tire tracks where there shouldn’t have been any.
I slowed to a prowl, my senses sharpening as my cougar lifted his head and dragged the morning air deep into his lungs. Then a sound tore through my chest—an instinctive cry I’d never felt before.
Something had changed. And my cougar knew it before I did.
I took one more step forward, and my cougar froze mid-stride, muscles going rigid beneath my skin. Every instinct I had was locked tight.
My mind finally caught on to what the scent was.
Human.
Female.
Sweet in a way that made me greedy. Because she was mine.
The last word wasn’t just a possibility. It was a certainty.
My hackles lifted as instinct slammed into me so hard it stole my breath. My cougar surged forward, his focus narrowed to a single truth.
Mate.
My beast wanted to find her. To put my body between hers and the world. To circle and guard. Ensure nothing touched what belonged to us.
To claim the woman who was born to be mine.
I couldn’t let instinct take the reins, no matter how violently it demanded control.
She was human and likely unaware of the supernatural world that existed around her.
My mate needed safety, not fear. And the only way to give her that was to slow down and find her the right way.
I forced my cougar away from the scent before the urge to mate could drag me toward her.
