by Cardeno C.
“I met him,” Hugh said.
“You met Harry Houdini?” Johnnie sounded awed.
Enjoying that reaction aimed at him, Hugh smirked. “Yup. I was pretty young at the time.” He thought back. “Barely thirteen, I think.”
“So it was the year before he died.”
“It was?” Hugh honestly couldn’t remember. He may not have ever known when the famous magician died.
Johnnie nodded. “Your birthday’s October first and you were born in 1912. Harry Houdini died on Halloween in 1926, so if you were thirteen when you met him, it had to have been right before then.”
“That’s quick math,” Hugh observed, more to himself than to Johnnie. Although Johnnie hadn’t had any formal education or, from the sound of it, informal education, he was extremely intelligent.
“What was he like?” Johnnie asked excitedly. He flipped his hands up and grasped Hugh’s wrists. “Did you get to watch one of his stage shows?”
Refocusing on the conversation that was apparently fascinating to Johnnie, Hugh said, “I did. I was too young to take over a pride at that point, but I was old enough to check them out. I was being courted by a pride in New York so I went for a visit. They pulled out all the stops including front row seats and backstage passes to a show put on by their most famous pride member.”
He grinned and started counting in his head, barely getting to two before Johnnie exclaimed, “Harry Houdini was a lion?”
“Yes.” Hugh dipped his chin. “It wasn’t known by anyone outside his pride, but they told me because they wanted me to be their Premier when I came of age.”
“That’s incredible.”
Hugh shrugged. “It’s how he was able to get out of his restraints.”
“No,” Johnnie gasped. “Really?”
“Yup. It’d be impossible to get away with it today because there are cameras everywhere. And actually, it was a bad idea back then too. If anyone had seen him shift, he risked exposing our kind.” Hugh shook his head disapprovingly. “His entire pride was like that, though. They were high-level executives working in Manhattan. They had no space to let their animals free and their power as humans had turned into hubris, so they were wealthy in money but lacking in instincts. Their lions were weak.”
“Is that why you didn’t go there?”
“Yes. A great pride is one with happy lions. Having healthy finances is part of that, but without enough space to live together as a community, to connect with each other, our animals, and the land, our instincts get weak and our souls wither. They refused to acknowledge that.” He sighed and shook his head. “Thankfully, we don’t have those issues in Berk.”
“The Berk lions seem very happy,” Johnnie agreed, his tone sincere despite the fact that he himself had been unhappy to the point that he’d used increasingly violent methods to try to end his life.
Hugh worked hard to ensure his lions remained content and safe, but in that moment, he cared about one particular lion being happy. And he was sure using his animal’s body as it was meant to be used would fill Johnnie with adrenaline and joy.
“Enough talking. It’s time to hunt.” He rubbed his palm over Johnnie’s back and then kept it in place as he began walking toward the back of the house, taking Johnnie with him.
“I’ll try.”
“It’s instinct.” Hugh opened the back door and waited for Johnnie to step outside before joining him on the porch.
“Instinct.” Johnnie’s expression turned thoughtful. “Right. That makes sense. And I’ve watched you do it for a long time, so that probably helps too.”
So many conversations with Johnnie served as reminders of how close he’d been to Hugh for years, how aware he was of every aspect of Hugh’s life, and how, in return, Hugh had been essentially oblivious toward him.
“Watching is the first part of learning,” Hugh said agreeably as he unbuttoned his shirt. “But the fun part is doing it yourself. Whether you catch anything or not, the hunt itself is the point.”
“Okay.” Johnnie followed Hugh’s lead and began undressing. Hugh was taking off his last sock, when Johnnie said, “Hugh?”
He flicked his gaze to Johnnie. “Yes?”
“Thank you for doing this with me. For doing a lot of things with me these past couple of weeks.” Johnnie glanced down and then up again. “It…it means a lot to me.”
Receiving praise for being decent to a man he’d been neglecting, if not mistreating, made Hugh uncomfortable. “You don’t need to thank me,” he said. While he’d spent more time with Johnnie over the previous two weeks than he generally spent with any one lion and he’d invited Johnnie to share his bed for sleeping, something he absolutely never did with any pride member both because he wanted personal space and because he wanted to avoid inter-pride jealousy, he had, surprisingly, enjoyed those thing. “It’s been nice for me too.”
The hopeful look Johnnie gave him in response to that comment was as unsettling as the conversation. Needing to move into familiar territory, Hugh patted Johnnie’s shoulder, said, “Let’s hunt,” and shifted into his lion form before leaping off the porch.
After trying and failing to catch an antelope and a deer, Johnnie no longer stood as tall and straight, his tail drooped, and his cheeks were pulled down. His inability to trap his prey had clearly demoralized him.
The animal in Hugh normally would have sought out the kill himself, demonstrating his strength and skill. But his goal that day wasn’t to show his power or to impress other lions. His goal wasn’t even to feed, though he had planned to eat dinner in his animal form. No. His goal was for Johnnie to experience the thrill of the hunt and to have a taste of success.
So rather than dashing ahead and taking over, Hugh trotted to Johnnie, shifted into his human body, and said, “Let’s talk for a few minutes.” He dug his fingers into Johnnie’s mane. “Shift.”
Johnnie dipped his huge, light tan face in what looked like a nod, and then took his human form. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Hugh rumbled, stepping forward until his chest almost touched Johnnie. “This is your first time. Being prey doesn’t mean the deer and the antelope are slow. In fact, they’re quick and they have excellent senses and reflexes.” He reached forward and cupped Johnnie’s cheek, curling his thumb under Johnnie’s chin, and then he tilted Johnnie’s head up so he could look into those blue eyes. “Lions fail more often than they succeed during a hunt.”
“You don’t,” Johnnie pointed out quietly, and accurately.
“I’m a Premier. I’m faster, bigger, and stronger than other lions. And I’ve been doing this for over a century.”
Hugh would have suggested that Johnnie consider how other lions hunted, but Johnnie wouldn’t know about that. Whether during a solo hunt or a group hunt, Johnnie’s entire focus had to be on Hugh. And while all lions had the opportunity to learn by watching their Premier, their main lessons came from their mothers and their peers from the time they were cubs. Johnnie hadn’t had the benefit of either.
“Tell me what you did out there,” Hugh said.
“What I did?”
“Yes. You were quiet, hunched down, saw the deer, and then what?”
“Uh.” Johnnie drew his eyebrows together thoughtfully. “I went after it.”
“How?”
“I don’t understand what you mean. I saw the deer and then I took a deep breath and ran.”
“There was a herd of them.”
“Yes.”
“How did you decide where to go?” When Johnnie continued to look at him blankly, Hugh elaborated. “An average hunter sees a herd and runs blindly toward it, hoping to be faster than at least one deer.” He paused and looked at Johnnie, waiting to make sure he was listening before continuing. When Johnnie nodded, Hugh said, “A good hunter identifies his target before leaving his hiding place. Then he goes straight for the target. No distractions, no hesitations.”
“That’s what you do?” Johnnie asked.
�
�No.” Hugh grinned as he rubbed his thumb back and forth under Johnnie’s chin. “I’m not a good hunter. I’m a great hunter.”
Smiling, Johnnie said, “What does a great hunter do?”
“A great hunter still identifies his target before leaving his hiding place. But unlike a good hunter, who leaps toward where his target is, a great hunter watches and learns enough to predict where his target is going to be and he aims there.”
“Where his target is going to be…” Johnnie blinked up at him. “How do you do that?”
“I consider all the factors. The direction of the wind. Where the sun or moon are in the sky. All the ways the herd can run. Where each deer is among the others and how they’ll all move as a group as well as individually. Depending on where I am, some prey will be more vulnerable than others. That’s how I decide who I’ll hunt.”
“So when you go after prey, you target a specific deer based on where you are in relation to that location, and you don’t aim for where they are, you aim for where they’ll be after they hear you coming?”
“Exactly. Hunting isn’t just about strength and speed. It takes a lot of experience watching patterns for different prey in different areas and at different times of the day. If you pay attention and use your body and your brain”—Hugh tapped his fingertips on Johnnie’s temple—“you’ll be a great hunter.”
Johnnie absorbed that information, his expression turning from ashamed and disappointed to thoughtful and then hopeful.
“Are you ready to try again?” Hugh asked.
“I’d like to.” Johnnie gazed into Hugh’s eyes. “I may not catch anything but I’d like to learn.”
Hugh moved his hand to Johnnie’s nape and gave him a squeeze. “You will.” Because Hugh would spend as much time as Johnnie needed to make sure of it.
Chapter 7
“Percy, good to see you.” Hugh stood in Percy Milroy’s entryway while the husky, good-natured, and unexpectedly nude man rubbed up against him.
Lions were tactile, relishing touch, taste, and scent, so they were regularly affectionate. Because they shifted together and fucked together, public nudity was common. But there was a line between a warm, friendly hello before dinner and naked dry-humping, and Percy had moved past that line. Hugh opened his mouth to ask about the unusual greeting when the sound of groans filtered in from the next room, disrupting his train of thought.
“Harder,” Dennis Jones begged. “Yes, Larry. Fuck me harder!”
It sounded like Dennis’s visiting friend was still in town and they were enjoying themselves in the living room before dinner.
Percy stretched up and licked the base of Hugh’s neck. The sound of sex, scent of need, and feeling of hot, hard flesh moving against him sent a twinge to Hugh’s groin, but it was just that—a twinge. And it was overpowered by an unfamiliar feeling Hugh couldn’t quite identify. A feeling that drove him to step back, putting space between Percy’s erection and his thigh.
“What’s going on?” Hugh asked.
His eyes dilated, nipples pebbled, and dick arching against his stomach, Percy whimpered. “Premier.” He reached toward Hugh’s groin.
Careful not to hurt the lion, Hugh grasped his biceps and pushed him an arm’s length away. His arms were longer than Percy’s, so with them extended, Percy couldn’t make contact with him.
“Percy, what are you doing?” Hugh asked tersely.
“Trying to take care of you.”
Group sex was very frequent, particularly among lions who lived together, so when Hugh was invited to share a meal with lions in a Berk den, he was always welcome to join them for fucking late into the night. But the level of aggression Percy was displaying with him was out of the ordinary. More than that, it wasn’t welcome.
“The invitation I accepted was for dinner,” Hugh said gruffly.
“I know.” Percy curled his palm over Hugh’s wrist and tugged. “But we’ve seen how busy you’ve been and we want to help.”
Hearing that Percy’s actions stemmed from his yearning to please him, Hugh relaxed and let Percy pull him into the living room. Members from two pride homes filled the space—those who lived with Percy and those who lived in Georgia Pilling’s den. They were clustered in groups of two or more, sucking, licking, stroking, and fucking. Lion shifters were bent over furniture, splayed wide on the floor, and riding each other on all available seating.
“The last time you came for dinner, you didn’t stay to let us help you afterward. I heard the same thing from the others. You’ve been so busy taking care of us.” Percy slid close to Hugh again, groped his flaccid dick through his pants, and then reached for his zipper as he sunk to his knees. “So we thought you’d rather have us take care of you than eat.”
Emptying his semen wasn’t a speedy endeavor for Hugh. Although he enjoyed the soft, wet feeling of a mouth or the tight friction provided by a fist, they rarely pulled an orgasm from him. Hugh needed to fuck to find release and he could go through a half dozen lions before coming.
“It isn’t necessary,” Hugh said as he yanked Percy to his feet. Based on the wide-eyed look Percy gave him, he had surprised the other lion as much as he had surprised himself. “I’m not in need,” he explained.
It wasn’t a lie. Though his nuts ached, hanging heavy and full, he wasn’t hard. Generally, Hugh didn’t masturbate other than during long trips when stress and displays of his power built up his testosterone and seed to unbearable levels and long meetings prevented him from finding release with other lions. But his interlude with Johnnie, when he had taken himself in hand, had satisfied him more than multiple nights of fucking, so he wasn’t in danger of acting irrationally or violently. And sexual need aside, Hugh found he had no desire to join the rutting lions in front of him.
“Don’t you want us to take care of you?” Percy asked, confusion and worry mapped across his face. “You must be hurting with nobody fulfilling your need.” He reached for Hugh’s dick and, once again, Hugh stopped him.
“I’m fine.”
Sexually, he was fine. Emotionally, he was confused about the change in his own desires and frustrated with his pride members setting him up. Manipulation was a form of aggression and Hugh wouldn’t allow it. But because it was completely out of character for his lions to challenge him, he was willing to limit the discipline to whoever had orchestrated the unannounced change in plans.
“Was this your idea, Percy? Did you decide to invite people from Georgia’s pride home here and then replace the meal with this?” To indicate his meaning, Hugh tilted his chin across the roomful of screwing shifters. He caught sight of Johnnie in the corner. Like always, he had done his job silently, following behind Hugh and remaining close enough to siphon Hugh’s power. With his shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets, and gaze locked on the floor, he looked as uncomfortable as Hugh felt.
As Hugh stared at him, Johnnie looked up and their gazes locked. Protecting his pride, keeping them safe and fulfilled, those were typical emotions for Hugh, and he recognized them soul deep, so he knew they weren’t the drivers of the sudden and sharp desire to march over and fix whatever had taken away the happy smile Johnnie had worn during their drive over.
“It was my idea, Hugh,” said an unfamiliar voice, pulling his focus away from woeful but mesmerizing blue eyes.
Hugh glanced down to see Dennis Jones’s visiting friend on his hands and knees, crawling toward him. In lion form, that would have made sense, but he was in his human skin.
“Larry Ridley, right?”
“You remember me.” Larry licked his lips. “I’m glad I made a good impression.”
Actually, it was the opposite. Something about the lion had raised Hugh’s hackles from the moment they’d met.
“And I see I’m impressing you again.” He dragged his palm over Hugh’s shoe, underneath his pants hem, and up his leg as he raised his head and rubbed his cheek against Hugh’s inner thigh seductively. “You’re hard for me, Hugh.” He rose to his knees, tipped his he
ad up, and mouthed Hugh’s shaft through his pants.
“Premier,” Hugh bit out as he jerked away, removing Larry’s support and leaving him scrambling to find his balance. The visiting lion was in no way arousing, and he wasn’t the cause of Hugh’s erection.
“What?” Larry stared up at him.
“You may address me by my title,” Hugh clarified. “I’m a Premier.”
“But Dennis calls you—”
“Dennis is one of my lions. He’s in my pride and I’ve invited him to use my name.” Hugh bared his teeth, flared his nostrils, and growled. “I didn’t give you permission to do that. Just like I didn’t give you permission to touch me. You haven’t earned those privileges.” He glared at Larry. “You’re a friend of Dennis’s so I’ll let the transgression go this one time. Don’t do it again.”
“Hugh?” Percy said, his eyes wide as he darted his gaze back and forth between Hugh and the lion still kneeling at his feet. “I’m sorry. We thought we were helping. Are you angry?”
Yes, he was angry. And frustrated. And confused. His dick was hard but he was uncharacteristically repelled by the idea of joining the orgy going on in front of him.
“You’re fine, Percy,” Hugh said, hoping his tone was soothing. He kept his voice low enough for Percy’s ears alone so he wouldn’t embarrass or disrupt the other lions. “I have been working hard and I appreciate your desire to help me, but if I need something from you or the rest of the pride, I will say so. Don’t make assumptions.”
Percy nodded furiously. “Of course. I didn’t mean…we didn’t mean…”
“I understand this wasn’t your idea but I expect more from my pride. I will not be manipulated or second-guessed. If I say I want to go to my home after a meal, that is what I mean. Nothing more, nothing less. Changing plans without telling me because you think it’s what I need isn’t acceptable.”
Percy trembled, remorse rolling off him in waves.
