by M. A. Church
The big cat roared furiously. Someone? And just where was this someone when they needed him the most? Had he, just like everybody else in his life, deserted them?
No! He betrayed his own Alpha for us, dammit. Put his very life on the line. He tried to do all he could for us. You have to remember! You must!
Why couldn’t the big cat remember this precious “someone,” then? He sensed he knew the other shifter, but he’d never actually met him. Or had he? Who was he? More importantly, who was he to them?
A twig snapped nearby, and he woke with a lurch, the voice forgotten for the moment. Tense, he scanned the area, looking for threats. Seeing none, he lowered his guard, but the sense of unease wouldn’t go away. Even an apex predator had to be cautious. There was always something bigger and badder out there.
A thought tickled at the back of his mind, something that had to do with why he ran, but he couldn’t remember what. One thing he did know for sure was that he had to be on guard. Danger was out there, and the big cat’s instinct told him it was coming for him.
Yawning, he flashed his huge canines, just in case there was anything watching that thought he was prey. When nothing so much as twitched, he clambered to his feet, satisfied with his display. He took off at a trot, ignoring the dream, or whatever it was.
THE SUN disappeared below the horizon in a splash of pinks and purples, and night claimed the land, its dark touch obscuring both prey and predator. He continued on, far into the night, until he found a tree close to another stream that appealed to him.
Climbing it was as difficult as before, but he finally reached the branch he picked to rest upon. A back leg hanging off and tail twitching, he scanned the surrounding area, looking for… something, the same something that had bothered him all day.
The hair along his spine pricked. He couldn’t put his paw on what made him uncomfortable. Scenting the air as he moved along earlier hadn’t helped either. There was nothing but the ordinary smells he expected to find in such a setting, but his restlessness increased.
The feeling that something was about to happen dogged every step he took. It almost felt like he was being stalked, but there was nothing he could find. Nothing but the itch between his shoulder blades and his instincts screaming that there was another predator nearby.
Unable to sleep thanks to the edginess plaguing him, he still catnapped. Even with eating as well as he had lately, fatigue was a constant problem he’d yet to overcome. No thoughts, dreams, or whatever they were bothered him this time. The human side of him was quiet, as it should be.
THE NEXT morning he woke with a jerk. Something was wrong. He lifted his head, scenting the air. On the warm summer breeze, an odor drifted to him. His upper lip pulled back into a snarl even as his heart rate picked up. He wasn’t in any jamboree’s territory—there were no scent markers or tree scrapes—but there was no mistaking the odor of a male jaguar.
Clambering down the tree, he took a stance. The last thing he wanted was to be treed if he had to fight. And this wasn’t just a jaguar. It was a shifter, and the scent disturbed him on a primitive level. He crouched, ears flat to his head as the smell grew stronger. Part of him wanted to flee, but he refused to do that. Not this time. He was done cowering.
The odious scent wafted closer, and he sneezed. Fury, pain, and fear rushed over him in a tide of boiling emotions. He knew that scent, knew it like he knew his own.
Fragmented memories rushed past his mind’s eye—memories of him being beaten, humiliated, and ridiculed. Rage narrowed his focus as things became clearer than they had been for a while.
Dun prowled out of the underbrush.
Fear surfaced again, briefly overshadowing the fury that ruled his mind. The beta who broke his knee, who broke his fingers, who jeered at him, stood ready to fight, his body loose and low to the ground, snarling. The big cat shivered at the other jaguar’s dominance display.
Slowly Dun paced forward, his great paws silent on the forest floor. A delta fighting a beta wasn’t a battle he could win, and this time there was no Alpha to rein Dun in. Running wouldn’t work either. Dun would only give chase until a simple bite to the skull ended things.
He had to stay away from those sharp teeth.
Resolve stiffened his spine. He wasn’t going to make it easy for Dun to kill him.
Dun licked his lips, then rushed forward. They met in a hard crash of stout bodies and flashing claws… and he quickly found himself nearly pinned to the ground. Fighting fiercely, he struggled to stay on his paws while still keeping Dun away from his neck and head. Rearing back, he slapped at Dun, raking a paw across Dun’s muzzle, going for his vulnerable eyes. Dun jerked away but charged back in almost immediately.
He tried to scramble out of the way, but bright, fiery pain lanced along his side as Dun raced past and swiped at him. The scent of blood filled his nose. They thrashed across the ground, biting and slashing at each other. A branch stabbed him in the gut. Dust filled the air. Then Dun bit down on that damaged back haunch and agony lanced through him. He screamed with pain.
A roar answered his cry, but it wasn’t Dun.
Another jaguar crashed through the underbrush and barreled into them. Dun was ripped off him with a brutal tear of pain. The other two jaguars roared and rolled around on the ground, a blur of paws and claws, nails and tails.
He crawled off as the other two fought, trying to get as far away from the danger as possible. Everything within him screamed for him to get out of there, but the scent of the newest jaguar confused him. It smelled so… alluring. Where Dun stunk of malice and sadistic need, the other one smelled of sunshine and… a sweet nutty aroma that teased the senses?
Coffee. He smells like coffee! It’s Alvin, the human side yelled aggressively, rising up. Our damn mate, you hardheaded cat! He owns a coffee bar, which is why he smells like coffee!
Coffee bar? What in the name of the goddess was a coffee bar?
Forget that. Did you hear me? He’s. Our. Damn. Mate. Stop shutting me out, because this time I won’t let you silence me. He tried to help us, even did what Hogan demanded. He sacrificed his honor for us, like I told you earlier, and I refuse to let that be for nothing. I want him, do you hear me?
The big cat shook his head, trying to remember. Mate? They had a mate? Why didn’t he know this? Or did he? Pain made him whimper as another scream of anger came from the two battling jaguars.
Concussion. Dun hit me in the head repeatedly. It’s why we’re having trouble remembering things, I think. Hogan was our Alpha. He blackmailed Alvin into kidnapping the Omega he wanted, who was already mated to another Alpha. Does any of this ring a damn bell with you?
There was another scream as the other two jaguars fought.
He needs us! Alvin is a delta too. You know as well as I do that a delta can’t win against a beta. But two deltas? Now that’s a whole different matter. So get your ass up and go help Alvin before Dun kills him!
The anger from before came screaming back as the big cat stopped fighting the human side and agreed to work together. Rising, with Bert now in control of the jaguar form, he ignored the pain in his hind leg and, adding his own roar to the battle, launched himself at Dun. He landed on his back, biting and clawing.
His weight pushed Dun to the ground, taking Alvin with him. Alvin screamed in agony as he jerked away from Dun’s strong jaw. Dun tried to roll in an attempt to shake Bert off, but he also exposed his neck. Swinging around, Alvin lunged forward and bit down, slicing into Dun’s windpipe.
Yes! Yes! Suffocate him. Bert snapped at Dun’s hindquarters, trying to trap him so he couldn’t get up. Still Dun kicked, so Bert laid across his legs.
It didn’t take long. Bert watched in pleasure as Dun’s side heaved, then slowly stopped moving.
Alvin waited a few more minutes before he finally released the bloody mess that was Dun’s throat and backed away. Bert stumbled back also. For a moment they stared at each other, neither moving. Finally Alvin turned and trotted off.
Bert followed. Once they were away from the blood and gore, Alvin stopped, made a sad little meow, and dropped to the ground.
Bert grunted aloud when Alvin rolled over, showing his belly. That was something they only did for an Alpha, and he was certainly no Alpha. They both held the same rank, so…?
Bert eased closer. He trusted Alvin. But why was Alvin acting so submissive, so… timid? When Bert was close enough, he sat on his haunches, leaned nearer, and sniffed.
Alvin waited patiently, hardly moving. He was so still—if it wasn’t for Alvin’s sides heaving from the fight, Bert would wonder if he was even alive. Then it hit him what was going on: Alvin wasn’t making any sudden movements because he didn’t want to scare Bert and possibly frighten Bert into taking off again.
How Alvin came to be there, Bert had no idea, but he was insanely glad to see him. Alvin was still frozen, waiting for Bert to do something. So he did. He bent down and licked at Alvin’s muzzle where Dun’s blood had saturated the short fur. Alvin turned on to his side and relaxed while Bert tended to him, tail lazily thumping on the ground.
He enjoyed caring for Alvin, but he wanted more, wanted Alvin’s scent all over him. In him. His arousal rose as he rubbed his muzzle against Alvin’s. Lifting his paws, Alvin poked at Bert, his claws sheathed.
Alvin blew through his nostrils, producing a breath-like snort. Surprised, Brett blinked at Alvin. Had Alvin just chuffed at him?
Well, he wasn’t a female comforting her cubs, so either Alvin was greeting him… or courting him? Confused, he stared at Alvin. Grunting softly, Alvin rolled to his stomach, got his legs under him, and lifted his backside slightly. He chuffed again, a grunting-growling type purr.
And Bert blinked again.
Surely Alvin wasn’t displaying for him? Him? If anybody should be mounted, it was Bert. He was the lame one of the two. Alvin was whole, and fast, and… and… not broken like Bert was.
Turning his head, Alvin did a chuffing-grunt, but this time it was deeper and more demanding. The sound vibrated straight down to Bert’s toes… and other places.
Holy shit, Alvin did want to be mounted.
Snuffling along toward Alvin’s hindquarters, Bert breathed in the musky smell of his mate. Pleasure rose swiftly, and human memories rushed back. He sensed the animal side of him was willing to relinquish control if that was what Bert, the human, wanted. But the animal really wanted to mount his mate in this form.
Alvin growled softly and thwapped Bert with his tail.
Choice made, Bert stayed in his animal form and mounted Alvin. Alvin mewed happily as Bert slid inside and clamped his teeth on the nape of Alvin’s neck. A few seconds later, it was over, and Bert moved off Alvin. Turning onto his back, Alvin snorted quietly, rolling on the leaves. Bert flopped down next to him and licked lazily his wounds.
Wounds? Why hadn’t he noticed that before? Instead of bending Alvin over, so to speak, Bert should’ve made Alvin shift so he could heal. Damn animalistic nature.
Hell, they both needed to shift and heal, and what was he doing? Mounting Alvin! What the fuck wrong was with him?
Human rationale finally won out, and Bert shifted seamlessly.
It’d been awhile since being in his human form, so it took a few seconds for his head to clear. When it did, he found himself sitting next to one of the most magnificent jaguars he had ever seen, in his opinion.
An attack of the nerves hit. What did he say? Do? He’d never seen Alvin’s jaguar form, and now that he finally had, he was sitting here with his thumb stuck up his ass. What a way to make a first impression. So, how to break the ice?
Tentatively he reached out and scratched Alvin behind his ear. “Well, hello. What’s a nice cat like you doing in a place like this?”
Chapter Six
ALVIN SHIFTED. “Oh, Bert. Babe.”
He didn’t know whether he wanted to hug Bert until he gasped for air, or breakdown and cry. Reaching out, he paused before touching Bert, then dropped his hand. Now that they were in their human form, would Bert still be okay with touching, especially after what he’d been through?
“I got here as fast as I could. I am so sorry, babe. So, so sorry.”
“So, no cool points for my pickup line?” Bert snickered.
Alvin opened his mouth, then closed it and tilted his head. Oddly enough, Bert seemed fairly stable, all things considered. “Huh.”
Bert’s grin wobbled but stayed put. “‘Huh’? That the best you got?”
Okay, who was this person, and what had they done with Bert? Alvin was utterly confused. Last he heard, Bert had been beaten so badly and was so full of fear, he’d shifted and taken off. For a shifter to lose control of his animal was serious business. The human spirit and the animal spirit shared the body, but when one forcibly took over and repressed the other, things got ugly. Usually the repressed spirit was lost. That had terrified Alvin.
“Alvin?”
“I, ah….” Alvin scratched his head, unsure what to say or do. “Okay, give me just a second here.”
Bert dropped the grin and grasped Alvin’s hand. “Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood, and I missed by a mile. Maybe levity is out of place right now. A lot has happened, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Alvin tightened his fingers around Bert’s, thankful Bert seemed to be okay with touching in his human form too. “I, ah… well, I’m kind of….” Baffled, mystified, and straight-up confused.
“I get it. I do.”
Alvin expected to find Bert broken and, well, not all there mentally. He’d envisioned months of trying to lure Bert back into human form. But the man sitting in front of him in the early-morning sunlight seemed to be in control. Alvin was at a loss. But Bert was right—a lot had happened since they’d last seen each other. So much so, he didn’t know what to tackle first. Should he address what happened with Hogan? Bert shifting with broken bones? His running off? Or Bert helping Alvin kill Dun? That last one tripped him up the most. He expected Bert to cower when faced with Dun, not help take him out.
“There’s a lot we need to talk about, yes, but first, are you okay?” Alvin glanced at the misshapen mess that was Bert’s knee.
Bert’s gaze followed Alvin’s, and his shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m okay… now. Not so much in the beginning. I had trouble remembering things, which was probably due to being kicked in the head repeatedly with a steel-toe boot. As far as the knee goes, I’m never going to be what I once was, but I am okay.”
“Saying I’m sorry doesn’t seem to be enough, but I am.” Alvin placed his hand on Bert’s knee. Broken bones usually mended back perfectly fine, as long as the bones were aligned right. But Bert’s knee had been shattered. Alvin was sure there had been all sorts of debris in there. In a perfect world, Bert would’ve been able to keep his cat under control and not shift so paranormal doctors could’ve operated first. “Sorry this happened. Sorry there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. Just all around sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.” Bert grimaced as he rested his hand on top of Alvin’s. “My cat is pissed, but what’s done is done. Do I wish it hadn’t happened? Of course. Does it mess me up? Of course it does. Am I angry Dun did this and took pleasure from it? You fucking betcha.”
“I—”
“No, let me finish. I need to… get this out while I can.” Bert caught Alvin’s gaze. “Am I as graceful as before? No. But I found I can take down smaller game, and climb trees—although it can be awkward—and I can still run… well, to some degree, anyhow. I can even fight, just not as well as before. But guess what? I’m still capable. My cat proved he could survive.”
“Thank fuck. I was terrified I’d find… would find….”
Bert nodded. “A quivering ball of fur that lashed out at anyone who got near?”
Emotions welled up in Alvin’s throat. That had been his greatest fear. “Well, yeah. I have to say I’m surprised with how well you’re taking this.”
“If my cat hadn’t taken over, I’m not sure what co
ndition I’d be in now, honestly. Probably what you expected to find.” Bert gently removed his hand from Alvin’s and ran it through his hair, wincing. “The human side of me was close to giving up. The fear….” Bert shuddered. “I was close to the point of shutting down.”
Alvin caught Bert’s reaction to his shortened hair, but since Bert didn’t bring it up, Alvin didn’t either. At least, not yet. “And your cat stepped in and saved you.”
Bert huffed disagreeably. “Don’t misunderstand. My cat’s motives were not really altruistic. He was done with humanity and, well, the whole damn deal. Completely fed up, Alvin, and ready to strike out on his own. Maybe it was an automatic reaction since I couldn’t deal with the situation. I don’t know, but his instinct for survival was greater than my want to escape it all.”
“He repressed the human side,” Alvin verified.
“Yes, and it was scary.” Bert shivered. “By the time I was ready to come back, I couldn’t. He kept shutting me down. But seeing Dun, then you, made me fight for control. I couldn’t let him…. I had something to fight for—you.”
“Considering I feel the same, I understand.”
“Seeing you come crashing out of the underbrush was the spark I needed, and more importantly, my cat let me take over. I’m not sure I could’ve forced my way back.”
The prospect jolted Alvin. Shit. What if the animal side of Bert hadn’t relented? What if Dun had managed to finish what he started? What if… what if….
He threw his arms around Bert and hauled him into a hug. “I could have lost you. Again!”
“But you didn’t.” Bert patted Alvin’s back, running his hand up and down the naked skin. “Hey, it could be worse. Instead of having a bum knee, I could’ve been killed by those two. So, silver lining and all that shit, yeah?”
A watery chuckle wrenched from Alvin. He released Bert and discretely wiped his eyes. “You have a very twisted sense of humor.”
“Living with Hogan pretty much guaranteed that.”
