by Leo, Rosanna
Anton turned to look at Gabi, and tears gathered in his eyes at the sight of his sibling’s quivering lip. He looked back at their parent. “I can’t, Father. Please don’t make me do this. He’s younger and smaller than I am.”
János Gaspar’s lip curled. “Boy, do you dare defy me again? Don’t you recall how I punished you for your insolence last time?”
He touched his broken nose. Oh, he remembered.
His father continued, standing and pacing outside the cage. “Do you not see I conduct this training to make you a stronger man and a stronger leader? One day, you will inherit my legacy. Do you think our people want to lead by a shameless pussy? They want a ruler who is not afraid to strike down his opponents.”
“But my brothers are not my opponents and our people are tired of cruelty.”
The Grand Prince lifted his gaze to the heavens, exasperated. “I need my sons to be powerful, especially you, Anton. You are the heir. Now, shift and attack your brother and Gabi will attempt to defend himself. That is, if he can manage to stop weeping like a human girl for five minutes.”
“No,” he whispered.
Istvan ran forward, his eyes wild. “I’ll do it, Father! I’ll make you proud.”
“Istvan, you are not the heir,” Father replied in blasé terms.
“I’ll do it anyway!”
János lifted a black brow. “Very well. Shift and show me what you can do. But if I don’t like what I see, I will enter that cage and beat all three of you into the abyss.”
Anton turned as he heard Istvan’s tiger growl. The young predator stalked forward, aiming for him and Gabi. He exchanged looks with Gabi, who merely wept and looked away. Anton positioned himself in front of Gabi and faced Istvan again. He shifted and braced himself. He wouldn’t attack Istvan, but he would defend Gabi.
And one day, he’d show Father he was wrong. So wrong.
* * * *
The next day, Anton stood by a tranquil Lake Gemini, keeping watch over a bunch of giggling teen shifters. He couldn’t blame them and suppressed a smile. His first class was on meditation and the benefits it could bring to a shifter lifestyle. There wasn’t a single teenager he knew who could sit still for fifteen minutes unless dropped in front of some sort of electronic device, never mind sitting still and keeping a clear mind. Nevertheless, he’d convinced these participants to sit cross-legged on the bank of Lake Gemini in quiet contemplation.
Tempted to do the same, he resisted the urge. His nightmare the previous evening rattled him, it had seemed so real. The patina on the metal cage, the snarl on Istvan’s tiger face, Gabi’s dreadful whimpers … all so real. He’d had to go for a long run early that morning just to clear his head of the sad imagery.
He angled his head toward one of the mountain lion shifter boys, a surly kid named Shawn Dixon who kept to himself at the back of the pack. Shawn stood against a tree trunk, arms crossed over his chest, and glared at the others. Rather than call him out, Anton stalked over, placing himself right in front of the teen. He frowned at the youth. “No meditating for you?”
Shawn curled his lip. “Thanks, Pops, but I don’t think so. You just let me know when nap time’s over and I’ll hand out juice to the kiddies for you.”
Anton stifled the urge to laugh. This boy reminded him a lot of himself at that age. He’d been a tough nut to crack too. Well, he’d crack this one. “What do you like, then?”
Shawn’s bright eyes narrowed. “I suppose it was too much to ask that you guys set up even one gaming system out in these boondocks?” The teen rolled his eyes and kicked at the gravel under his feet.
“You know the rules here. No devices.”
“No fun.”
Anton eyed the boy. Shawn was tall and gangly but already possessed some lean muscle. God only knew he possessed attitude. He could see why his parents brought him to Ryland’s program. The boy clearly needed a mentor. He’d have to set up some one-on-one time with the kid. If he didn’t get things off his chest, a young man like Shawn had potential to go bad. Anton didn’t want to see that happen.
After all, he knew what it was like to go bad.
Mulling over some ideas, he quietly took his place before the group again.
Despite the challenges some of the teens presented, he liked it here. The kids made him want to smile, something he hadn’t felt free to do in ages. They’d come to the lodge with various problems: bullying, inability to accept their natures, and good old-fashioned self-confidence issues. He knew he could help them all, having dealt with all these problems firsthand.
All thoughts of smiling disappeared when Marci rounded the corner on the path leading from the lodge. He’d seen her a few times in passing since the scuffle in the mentoring office, and had been dismayed to realize he’d been fabricating reasons to talk to her. Can you remind me where the weight room is, Marci? Could you direct me to the tennis courts again, Marci? Pathetic.
And now here she was again, causing his tiger, and his cock, to jump to immediate attention.
Gritting his teeth, Anton looked away, but found his gaze strayed right back to her. Something in his chest vibrated. His tiger regarded her, its eyes flashing bright, and moved closer.
Éhes vagyok, it growled. I am hungry.
Yes, well, this is not a time to eat, he countered angrily. And definitely not her. We will not eat Marci Lennox, do you hear me?
Anton watched her walk over, entranced by the fluid motions of her legs under her sensible black skirt. He licked his dry lips as he witnessed the simple magic of her bending knees and flexing calves. Oh, to have those legs thrown over his shoulders as he lost himself in her pussy. Better still, to have them wrapped around his waist as he…
“Mr. Gaspar,” she said formally, nodding at the teens. “I thought I’d come to see one of your classes, and make sure all your, um, needs are taken care of.” She smiled, a little too brightly, he thought.
He tried to smile back, conscious of the teen eyes on them. “Ms. Lennox, thank you. I have no needs.”
Ha! His tiger sniffed. I can think of one.
Ignoring his drooling cat, Anton stood his ground while she approached and took up a spot next to him. “Well, I’d still like to see how everything is going.” She sat on a picnic bench and crossed the legs that would feature in his every sexual fantasy from here on in. As she did, her teasing scent beckoned.
He knew what this was. She was checking him out. Making sure he didn’t fuck up any of the program participants. She was watching him, like a babysitter in a pencil skirt. He couldn’t help the bristle of annoyance fluttering down his spine. He saw no need for this class audit.
The royal in him was not amused. Biting his tongue, he tried not to show it. “Very well, Ms. Lennox. Be my guest.”
He turned his back to her and faced the kids. “Okay, everyone. That’s enough meditation for one class.”
A wolf shifter boy threw up his hands. “Thank God! Can we do some fencing now? You promised you’d teach us fencing.” Pretending to wield a sword, he lunged at a good-looking bear girl, who turned away in disgust.
“No fencing today,” Anton replied. “We’ll work up to it. Today I want to talk to you about listening to your animal self.” He used the space in front of the kids, treading the ground, and darted a couple of looks over at Marci. He couldn’t miss the shadows hiding in her bright eyes, and knew she had things on her mind. “How many of you can actually hear your animal when it talks?”
One shy bit of a girl raised her hand. “My fox doesn’t talk at all,” she whispered.
From the back, Shawn let out a puff of air that illustrated his clear disdain for the girl and her silent fox. Luckily, she didn’t hear it. Anton decided not to pay him attention. No sense in acknowledging poor behavior. He’d deal with the boy later, in private.
Anton nodded at the fox girl instead. “It does talk to you. You just haven’t learned to hear it yet.” He resumed pacing, conscious of Marci’s acute attention. “Do you ever enter
situations where you feel ill at ease? Or do you ever meet people and something seems wrong about them?”
The girl nodded.
Anton opened his arms. “That is your fox talking to you. Until you are of an age where you are mature enough to acknowledge its voice, it will come to you as an instinct. It’s there to protect you and remove you from situations that might be harmful.” He took a breath as his tiger tried to jump out of his body to nuzzle Marci. “It will also tell you what you need. Your animal self will always seek to provide what you don’t even know you require.”
His tiger shook its massive head at him, thinking him an idiot. I know, I know. He could lecture young shifters about needs but refused to listen to his own.
Never mind. He’d listened to his needs when he’d allowed himself to have a dalliance with Mariska. His life, sham that it was, had never been the same. What happened to Mariska changed him, to say nothing of how it had affected her. She was the reason he’d disappeared to Pannonhalma, and he’d promised himself he’d never forget the utter travesty that resulted from his relationship with her.
No, hunger and thirst were one thing, but the type of needs that led Anton to seek comfort between the legs of a woman were best ignored.
He heard scuffling in Marci’s direction and looked toward her. She’d stood up from her bench and had already taken a few steps away down the path.
“Ms. Lennox? You are leaving so soon?”
She looked back at him but avoided eye contact, her face grim and pale. “I’ve heard enough, thank you. Have a good class.” With that, she was gone.
While his tiger smacked him upside the head, Anton just knew his talk about needs had struck a chord with her too.
* * * *
Two days later, Marci stood at the front counter in the lodge, counting her blessings. After much preparation, she would hold a competition today for the teen shifters in the program. A race through the forest, it promised to be entertaining, and the teen competitors were excited and prepped. To make things even better, the lodge was functioning just as it did when Ryland was around. Killian and his loony friends hadn’t caused any more trouble, thank the Lord, despite remaining on guard around their newest addition. And Anton had settled in nicely with his new job. The teens seemed to like him and, despite his gruff nature, he’d developed a good rapport with them.
Thankfully, although she was forced to interact often with the tiger shifter, she’d managed to keep those interactions businesslike. She was fulfilling her promise to Ryland, ensuring Anton was able to do his job and felt comfortable in his new home. Yes, his very gaze seemed to tear a strip off her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and fragile, but she did her best not to show it. So far, she’d kept a mental lid on her lynx.
Granted, she’d also gone home to her cabin every night since meeting him and masturbated for the life of her. Not that it seemed to fill the aching void inside.
Well, there was no void she wanted to fill quite like that of the assistant manager role, so her deviant desires had to be shelved.
The lynx issued a cry of disgust and swatted her insides. Back off, you silly cat, she admonished. I’m in control here, not you.
Just as Marci was relishing her spectacular control, Anton walked through the lodge door and loomed large in front of her, clad in dark cargo pants and a baseball shirt that clung to his every muscle. His fists were clenched yet again. Why did he always seem ready for a fight?
Her lynx pounced toward his tiger like a bright-eyed, shaking kitten on a ball of wool. Damn. She’d forgotten she’d arranged to have him help her at the event today. Professional, professional. “Good morning, Anton. Ready for the race?”
He looked her up and down, unsmiling, and his green eyes seemed to grow brighter. “What are you wearing?”
She looked down at her gym shorts and T-shirt. Sure, autumn had already kissed Gemini Island, turning tree leaves into a spectacular array of color and lowering temperatures. However, it was unseasonably warm today and she’d dressed for physical activity. “Um, my clothes?”
His distracted gaze settled in the vicinity of her breasts for a second and then he looked away. “Aren’t you cold?”
She looked down again and saw her nipples poking out, as if reaching for him. In horror, she crossed her arms over her chest and whispered, “No, I’m not cold.” Her nipples seemed to have other ideas and poked against her clasped arms. She rubbed discreetly at them in annoyance, hating that her attraction to him was so evident. “On second thought, I did feel a breeze walking over this morning. Maybe I will get a jacket.” She dashed into her office and grabbed her windbreaker, throwing it on. She took a second to breathe, adjusted her ponytail, grabbed her whistle, timer, and clipboard, and headed back into the lobby to join him. Rather than stop, she walked right past him toward the door. “Time for the race. Let’s go.”
As he followed her out, she was conscious of his footfall, so heavy and deliberate. At the same time, his scent called to her. She had trouble figuring out exactly what his scent was, and had already lain awake at night a couple of times trying to pinpoint it. She allowed her nostrils to flare for a second, just a second to breathe him in, and caught a faint whiff of mint and cut grass and man. He smelled of the outdoors and of cleanliness, with just a hint of salty allure.
Shaking off her head rush, she continued on at a good clip toward the starting line. Killian was already there, talking to a couple of the participants. As she arrived, he looked up and waved her over. With an eye on Anton, Killian pulled her in for a hug.
“You look nice,” Killian purred and kissed her forehead.
What the heck? He’d never hugged and kissed her so much, not even in bed, but the past couple of days, her friend had been rather touchy-feely. “Oh, thanks. Is everything ready?”
“You bet.” With a grin, he gave her bum a playful swat.
Even as she jumped, Anton took up a spot next to them. His gaze followed Killian’s hand. His jaw clenched and he glared at Killian. Killian glared back.
If Marci hadn’t known any better, she could have sworn there was a little feud developing between the tiger and the jaguar. Dismissing any notion it was related to her, she chalked it up to professional competition. Silly shifter males. Always posturing. She’d seen it before, although never so up close and personal.
The race was set to start in a few minutes and families had already gathered along the route, there to cheer on their shifter teens. Marci took her place at the start at the announcer’s podium and smiled.
“Welcome, everyone,” she said into the microphone, wincing at the shrill feedback. She adjusted her stance and continued. “We are thrilled to have you all here for today’s race and are so glad you’ve decided to join our family here at the Ursa Fishing Lodge and Resort.”
A cheer went up through the crowd and the competitors high-fived each other.
She continued. “As shape-shifters, we’ve all been blessed with certain gifts, even though they can sometimes feel like a curse. Our mentoring program is all about learning to embrace our gifts and talents. Today’s event is not just about strength, but about being smart and intuitive. We’re not here to applaud the strongest or the quickest among us. We’re here to help you learn how to use your unique abilities and to support each other.”
Marci smiled at the competitors as a couple of teen wolf shifter boys flexed their muscles. The group of competitors consisted of mostly males: several wolf shifters, a bear, and a coyote. One female contestant stood among them: a timid-looking girl named April who happened to be a hare shifter.
As Marci continued her speech, she looked at April. “Today isn’t about brawn. It’s about using your brain. And although this is a race to the finish, you never know who might win.” She smiled at each of them. “Mr. Moon will be at the halfway point. Mr. Gaspar and I will take up our spots at the finish line. Don’t forget, the route is directly through the woods and ends at Ursa’s Muzzle, the large cave in the distance.” She poi
nted it out. “Best of luck!”
As she and Anton raced through the trees toward Ursa’s Muzzle, he laughed. “That was a nice speech, but there’s no way that shy little girl will win over those competitive boys. She just doesn’t have the strength.”
“There’s something to be said for inner strength, you know,” she argued as she jumped over a cluster of stones. She landed on her feet with ease, eager to show Anton that smaller shifters had their talents too.
He lunged after her, a huge shadow in the woods. “Yes, but there’s something to be said for accepting one’s limitations.”
Peeved, Marci picked up her pace. “You’re just saying that because she’s a girl and not a big tiger man.”
With another haughty laugh, Anton pulled ahead of her, weaving easily through the trees. Marci tried to catch up to him, but with his tiger strength he easily outran her. She watched, annoyed, as he reached Ursa’s Muzzle and put his hands on his hips, waiting for her to arrive. He wasn’t even breathing hard from their sprint. “It’s better April isn’t set up for disappointment. She’s a hare. She should be competing with shifters like her. How can she possibly compete with those predators?”
As she finally reached the cave, she glared at him. “Mr. Gaspar, where did you learn to be such a pessimist? In prince school?”
“I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist.” To annoy her, he reached out and tweaked her cheek.
“Take your hands off me, you big brute.”
He smiled. “Are you mad at me because I’m stronger and faster than you, little lynx?”
“Power and might don’t count for everything in this world, Anton.”
His features darkened. “No, Marci, but unfortunately they count for a lot.”
“Oh, very nice. Who taught you that? Machiavelli?”
“No.” He looked away. “My father did.”
Before she could question him, the whistle blew and the race began. With considerable reluctance, she looked away from him and turned toward the competitors. The route consisted of a straight line through the woods, and she could easily see them as they hurried through the trees. However, the path was studded with several rocks and felled logs, and the teens needed to keep their wits about them. A couple of the boys fell over themselves in their haste and scrambled to get up. April loped along at a slower pace, but didn’t stumble once.
