by Ava Frost
For about three weeks, the two of us engaged in hot, passionate sex every single night we met, though we had to be careful to coordinate these meetings in such a way so as not to arouse suspicion from those around us. As splendid as it was every single time, the long, steamy nights together always left us completely exhausted the next day, and we couldn't allow ourselves to be found out and our happiness brought to a swift and abrupt end.
Yet no one seemed to notice what was going on right in front of their faces. It was like the humans, I suppose, not noticing that shifters lived and breathed and walked among their very streets. I don't think anyone even considered the possibility that a panther shifter should fall in love with a tiger, and therefore any potential danger posed by such a mix was all but impossible as far as the men and women around us were concerned.
It was their loss, I thought, not to know how splendid and rewarding such a union could be.
I felt, for all intents and purposes, as though I was in heaven every time I was around Vincent.
He whispered into my ear late at night, and made me feel like the luckiest woman in the universe to have him, in every imaginable way.
And when I laid there beneath the trees, safe in his arms, it felt as though nothing in the world could possibly harm me.
And that was when I found out I was pregnant.
It caught me completely off guard, and left my head spinning, the anxiety of such a realization welling up around me on all sides. I had no idea what the hell I was going to do.
I kept hoping, despite my own rational instincts, that maybe it would have been a mistake. That I'd misread my own body's signals, and that in a week or two I would discover that it had all been a big mistake. I remained silent all the while, hoping that was the case, and not wanting to commit myself to the uncertain fate that I inwardly knew awaited me.
I sat at the dinner table at night while my parents continued to say all manner of horrible things about tiger shifters, demonizing, basically the father of my child, and even cutting much closer at times by calling mixed-breed shifter babies “abominations.” My guts continued to twist and I found myself continually clutching my stomach where the baby was growing, and I ended up largely zoning out whenever my father went on paranoid rants about how lion shifters, who generally lived elsewhere throughout the country, had been taking over small towns and setting panther shifters as their targets. I considered it just another one of those things he believed passionately would happen, but that never really would, and that therefore posed no tangible threat to me whatsoever.
The only concern I had was for the child I feared was growing inside me, and for the life I may or may not have ahead of me with Vincent.
After so long in denial, I could no longer avoid facing the facts.
*******
“I'm pregnant,” I told my lover, my eyes on the ground one night as I braced myself for his reaction.
“Oh my God, that's... That's...” he'd begun to say, but I could tell he had no clue as to what the hell he could say about the fact. His eyes went to my stomach, and I think he realized how obvious it would have been from the looks of me had he even been thinking to look for it.
Now, the choice lay ahead of us of what the hell we were going to do about it all. We would have to leave, we knew... We couldn't stay here, and let our futures, nor that of our child, be decided by a bunch of hateful, prejudiced individuals.
But the timing would have to be just right. We needed to leave before it became too obvious to those around me that I was expecting, yet we needed to save up enough money ahead of time so that, once our time came to disappear, we wouldn't be left high and dry, without a penny to our names.
It seemed to me we were pushing things dangerously close. I kept swelling and swelling, to the point that it was growing harder and harder to hide from those around me, and I knew that any day now, our cover would be blown, and it would be too late to escape.
And then it happened, at perhaps the least opportune of times...
The atmosphere at the dinner table seemed to be tense with some unspoken angst, and my little sister kept looking around wide eyed, alert, but perhaps the least frightened of any of us. I was about to take a bite of my dinner with trembling hands, one hand on my stomach as it seemed to be routinely these days, when suddenly Dad's hand was on my plate. He pulled it away from under me, making something inside me drop, like I knew immediately that the moment of truth had arrived.
“Maybe you should cut back a little bit tonight, don't you think? You seem to be putting on a little bit of weight there...”
I swallowed, but my throat was dry. “I... I...” I said, trying to think of what to say, but I was sweating now, and my brain felt jammed to a stop.
He stared at me for a long time, then his eyes narrowed, a disgusted expression bleeding across his features. “I knew it... How big of a goddamn fool do you take me for? You think I don't know what you're trying to hide?”
“I... I...” Now tears were beginning to well up.
“Who is he, then? The man you've been going out to see, and who's responsible, for- for this?!” he asked, waving an irate hand at my swelling womb, like it was a personal insult to his dignity.
“His... His name is Vincent,” I said, sobbing, feeling that resistance was futile at this point.
Immediately, my father's eyes widened. It was even worse than he'd expected it to be.
“A tiger shifter... Of all the goddamn...! You spread your legs for a piece of filth like... Oh, damn it! When I get my hands on that son of a bitch, I'll-” He was shouting wildly now, irate, making my head throb with every snarling word he spoke. I never had the chance to find out what he would do when he got his hands on Vincent, however, as just then his tirade against the father of my child was interrupted by a loud, rumbling crash.
All of us froze, momentarily welcoming the distraction, but then fearing for our lives only a few seconds later. There was a series of bursts and shouts, screams coming from outside, making our blood grow cold.
I put my hand to my stomach, and silently prayed.
The lion invasion my father had forecasted was unfolding all around us. Through the window, we could see snarling, maned beasts tackling considerably smaller panthers, snapping their vicious jaws in their faces, slashing paws across their fur, mayhem ensuing as far as the eye can see. Our brothers and sisters were being driven relentlessly from their homes, cast into the streets, and left fleeing, running for their lives, despite their best efforts of resistance.
It was all over now...
My father, having waited years for the moment that the hatred against our kind came to a boiling point, shifted and ran to join in the battle, snarling and roaring, fighting for his bottomless pride as much as he did for his family. There were women among the fighters as well, but my mother and I remained inside for the sake of my little sister and the baby developing in my womb.
We prayed for our father's safe return, for some miracle to come down from the skies and save us, but most of all I think I feared being separated from Vincent forever, driven away, the two of us never to be seen again.
I began to cry, in spite of my own best efforts to resist emotion, and the hours rolled by with increasing violence and mayhem.
Things weren't looking good for us.
Our brethren fought valiantly, bringing their all to the battle and striving to preserve our survival, but it was an uphill battle from the start. We were vastly outnumbered, and by a species far more physically imposing and full of mass than our own.
This seemed unquestionably like the end... I envisioned my father murdered, my mother, sister, and I taken away any minute now, with nothing we could do to stop it from happening.
And then the miracle I'd been desperately hoping for came flashing quite improbably to life.
We couldn't believe our eyes at first. In fact, it took us several second glances to ensure that we simply weren't imagining it, but sure enough, it was as real as the fo
ur walls around us, and it filled us all with a sense of levity that words can't describe.
An absolute army of tiger shifters had come bursting onto the scene, and despite their once brutal enmity toward our kind, it was the lions that they now targeted, snarling and tearing at their pelts, fighting side by side with the panthers and coming in swarms to the aid of my people.
It was a fair fight now, and the tigers, for all their old hatred toward my kind, seemed as adamant to see the invaders gone as were my own people.
It took me quite some time to figure out just what the change was that had occurred, but it all seemed clear and self-evident to me at the sight of one particular tiger I'd gotten to know quite well, charging into battle.
Vincent paid a single glance into the window, the two of us making eye contact for a fraction of a second. Then he thundered onward roaring as he and two panthers tackled a massive lion, digging their teeth into the thing, and making it think twice about its failed decision to bring a massive paw down onto the head of a cub who'd stumbled its way into the battle.
For the next couple of hours, I kept feeling myself knotting up internally with anxiety, certain that Vincent would meet his end over the course of the battle- yet such fears quickly proved themselves to be unfounded.
Now, the tables had turned. With a united front, our side had outnumbered and overpowered the invading lions, and before long they were sent retreating, scrambling off with their tails between their legs, so to speak, and leaving us in peace.
Moments later, the streets were filled with a bunch of naked men and women, having shifted back into their human forms, and now celebrating jubilantly over their victory. Panthers and tigers were shaking hands with one another, embracing, and God, was it ever a surreal vision to behold.
My eyes began to well up with tears, but it was nothing compared to the sight of Vincent stepping into the threshold of my door, naked and tattered, but largely intact. I ran to him, kissing him on the mouth, not caring anymore whether everyone in the world bore witness to our love.
Chapter 4
“I do,” I mouthed to Vincent, our hands entwined before the priest, and the two of us leaned in, and kissed one another on the lips. The crowd around us cheered, both tiger and panther alike, celebrating a union they once would have despised, and making the scene feel like so much more of a victory than it already was.
It had been our love that had united our kinds, I had since come to know in the months since the victory over the invading lion shifters. When they'd attacked, Vincent had told the chief of his kind, who happened to be close friends with his family, about my pregnancy, and about the deep connection that the two of us shared. Then he'd driven the point home by saying that, if the lion shifters were willing to attack the panthers, what would prevent them from going for them next? It had taken some serious convincing, but eventually he'd managed to convince his people that our kinds weren't really all that different, and that at the end of the day, cooperation was far better than our long-standing and irrational antipathy.
And so they'd come to our rescue, preventing a potentially tragic fate, and bringing about a unity to our people that we might not otherwise ever have known.
It hadn't happened overnight, but it was now far more popular to be accepting of one another than hateful. There were now many other interspecies couples to be found among our ranks, and even my father had come around to reason after having fought alongside his fellow catshifters in battle. Now, of course, his prejudice was against all lion shifters, whom he regularly decried, but I supposed it was best just to take things one step at a time as far as Dad's social progression was concerned.
I was sixth months into my pregnancy when Vincent and I got married. I still had my fears, not quite sure what to expect of the future to come, but it was impossible to be too afraid whenever my beloved husband's arms were around me.
Our wedding night was magical.
He peeled me out of my lacy white dress, and laid me down on the surface of our marital bed for the first time. It felt so wonderful beneath my body, so much softer and ideal compared to the scratchy surface of the forest pressing up against my spine.
He peeled me out of my bra and panties, and my swollen, pregnant body lay ready and open for him, though I had to confess to feeling self-conscious about the state I was in, not sure whether I was appealing for him this way.
I would quickly find, however, that I had nothing to worry about, and that he loved everything about me just as much as he always had, perhaps even more so. He peeled out of his tuxedo, and climbed up on top of me, clearly excited, but careful with regard to my delicate state just then all the same.
He stared into my eyes, and he kissed me deeply, making me lightheaded, like it was our first time all over again. He kissed my neck, and my shoulders, and I closed my eyes as he ravished me, treating my body like something holy. He seemed especially pleased by my engorged breasts, loving the feeling of my swollen nipples in his mouth, and his ravishing of them feeling wonderful as the sensations echoed across my body.
For some time he caressed, and suckled, and then very carefully he mounted me, spreading my legs, and sliding inside. He pushed himself inside me, hot and thick and glorious as ever, and I sighed with pleasure, never able to get enough of this.
And so, the two of us properly consummated the love that we shared, him grunting as he pushed his way in and out of me, our bodies colliding, our flesh slipping and sliding against one another, the friction overpowering us, driving us absolutely wild.
Harder and harder, deeper and deeper, buttocks clenching and unclenching, my pregnant body on fire with ecstasy. And then that last push into me, holding, holding, bursting, overflowing, coating me with his love, and an orgasm of my own sizzling through my limbs, making me cry out into the dark night surrounding us.
And at last he pulled out of me, the two of us panting and satisfied, the feeling of skin against skin far too perfect for either of us. He slipped his body behind me, spooning me tenderly, his lips almost constantly on the side of my neck, and his arms wrapped around me, so that his hands lovingly cradled my swollen, pregnant belly.
We drifted, slowly, tenderly off into sleep, and for the first time in years, everything felt as though it was precisely as it should be.
THE END
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The Lion’s Heart
Chapter 1
****Veronica****
This is exactly why you shouldn’t try online dating. No seriously, if you can’t find love in person, give up. I’m giving up. You should too. And don’t come for me or shame me with the whole bit of maybe it’s just you. When your date turns into a giant lion when he was previously a hot man hitting every spot you needed hit and fingering you to oblivion, you can’t say shit to me. Until then, shut the fuck up.
So let’s rewind about two weeks. There’s me, living in San Francisco, completely oblivious to the shoe that’s about to fall on my pretty and perfect life. Shoe? You ask. Yes, the shoe that tells you when life’s gotten a little too sunny on your side. I had been promoted to Project Manager. Which may not sound like much but let me tell you when you have broken through the glass ceilings of receptionist, assistant and generally avoided having to do sex favors for your boss, you sing praises for Project Manager. It’s also a miracle that I did all this single-handed while never succumbing to the loud but never spoken rule to be blond, super skinny and in love with tanning. Gasp, who wouldn’t want to be a blonde bimbo tottering on red bottom skyscrapers. This girl. Me. I’m tall all by myself, 5’11. You know what a girl like me looks like in 6-inch heels? Desperation. That’s what. Or a second on an Amazon movie set. So, I am content in my bedazzled flats that scream thrift store. I prefer the word antique, it brings an air of elegant remembering versus the only thing I can afford. Also, it makes carrying around these extra 90 pounds a bit easier. I say extra because all my coworkers don’t look to weigh any more than 90 pounds. I thi
nk that’s the maximum allowed into their club of sun tanning and tanning lotion. I’ve never been invited because the way my melanin is set up, I’m brown enough. Am I still not making myself clear? I’m black. That’s right. Big black woman coming through and you can bet your ass I’m coming for you and your little dog too if you call me fat. I’m not fat. I’m clothed in more to love. Get over yourself. Just because some aspire to anorexia doesn’t mean we should condemn those who love food.
Now, as I said, my life was wonderful. I was flawless, reread the paragraph before if you can’t understand that. I had a great job, again, see the previous paragraph. I had a lovely apartment. It was the third floor, with an elevator and a doorman doubling as security, perfect view of the water, high rise. On just my salary alone, I’d be living amongst the living dead and crack whores of the street. But I was spared from such deplorable living by my roommate turned best friend, Casey. I liked Casey. She renewed my faith in skinny women. They ain’t all bitches. Well, she renewed it only to revitalize it once more. I’ll explain that in a sec. The last icing on the cake of my beautiful life was my boyfriend, Tyrone. I hear you already, suspicion. I agree, I too was suspicious. How could a black man with a name like Tyrone be any good? I mean, even Erykah Badu said to call Tyrone. But I gave him a chance. He’s a numbers guy. Sweet, but nerdy behind his black square glasses but smooth enough to know how to dance when in a nightclub. Not bumping and grinding, I’m talking actual fox-trot, meringue, and salsa. The brother could do a two-step and he wasn’t addicted to Call of Duty. I almost felt like he was a match made in heaven. Almost, because he didn’t want to introduce me to his family. I mean, I’m not bad on the eyes and I was an established woman, living on her own with a career. What the hell? After a year of courting, dancing, and real good fucking, I assumed he was ashamed of my weight and decided to give him an ultimatum the next time he came over.
