by Zoe Chant
Lynn took up position next to her, sitting on her haunches with her eyes fixed on the circle.
Dale and Chapman had both shifted, too. Dale’s lion form was branded into Sam’s memory from the night they’d met—big and golden, with a long mane and a power, muscled form. Now that there were lions all around her, she could see that Dale was noticeably the biggest of them all.
Right now, he was stalking around the edges of the circle, eyes following Chapman, who was doing the same on the other side.
Chapman wasn’t much smaller than Dale, but his mane was shorter and more brindled, alternating pale fur with a dark golden-brown. As he drew closer to where Sam and Lynn were standing, Sam could hear him growling under his breath.
Sam wished desperately that she could shift; she wanted to be with the rest of the pride in this moment, not standing alone as a human, watching her mate risk his life.
She reached out a tentative hand and put it on Lynn’s shoulder; Lynn immediately leaned into it, shifting closer, and Sam spread her fingers through Lynn’s fur and breathed a little more easily.
Suddenly, so quickly that Sam couldn’t tell which one of them moved first, Dale and Chapman leapt toward each other. They clashed in the center of the circle, both growling so deeply Sam could feel the noise vibrating her bones.
They bit at each other, and Dale swiped at Chapman with a paw, pushing him back a few steps. Chapman came right back, though, teeth bared, and snapped at Dale’s face.
Then they were up so close together that their manes blended, locked in too tight for Sam to see what was going on. She held her breath.
When they separated, they each had a line of blood shining brightly against their fur; Dale on his shoulder, Chapman on his cheeks. They backed up again and stalked each other some more, tails lashing.
Chapman was the next to attack; he rushed Dale, clearly hoping to push him out of the circle. Dale darted to the side, though, and Chapman had to quick-reverse to keep from running right over the painted line.
Sam bit her fist.
Dale reared up on his hind legs and came down hard as Chapman backed up. He roared as he landed, and the sound ripped through the air, echoing over the hills; Sam felt herself tearing up, though she couldn’t have said why, exactly.
Dale’s claws ripped gashes in Chapman’s side, and as Chapman shied backwards, Dale leapt on him, knocking him over. They rolled on the grass, growling and snapping.
Suddenly Dale let out a roar of pain, and Sam squeaked out an involuntary noise, and then bit down harder on her fist. Chapman had bitten down on his hind leg, and wasn’t letting go.
For a second, Sam wasn’t sure how Dale was going to get out of it, but then Dale’s teeth snapped down on Chapman’s ear, and Chapman howled and pulled back, until they were again yards apart, stalking each other.
Chapman’s ear was bloody, but Dale was limping a little. Sam wondered again how much martial arts talent really translated from human to lion.
Chapman seemed more confident, growling in his chest and making a few feints here and there. Dale shied back a few steps, and then another few steps, and Sam felt cold fear wash over her—what if he was really hurt? What if this was it?
Chapman feinted again, and again—and then, almost too quickly for Sam to realize what was happening, he gathered himself and pounced.
As Chapman crouched and leapt, Dale flickered to human and fell backwards. Sam leaned forward, mouth open—what was wrong with him—
But Dale shifted back to lion instantly, now lying on his back. And in a very human-looking move, Dale propelled Chapman over, using the momentum from his own pounce.
Chapman landed awkwardly on Dale’s other side, stumbled, and fell, and Dale was on him in a flash.
Chapman flailed with his paws, but Dale’s teeth closed over his throat before he could move, and he froze. Lynn shifted to human immediately, and called out, “One. Two.”
She kept counting, and Sam watched Dale’s jaw muscles as his teeth pressed into Chapman’s throat. They twitched, surely tempted to close. But he stayed absolutely still, while Chapman’s tail lashed and Lynn kept counting. “Six. Seven.”
At, “Eight,” Chapman stopped caring about Dale’s teeth and gave an enormous heave of his body, trying to throw Dale off with all his strength. His powerful hind legs struggled, swiping at Dale’s stomach.
Dale slammed him back flat, jaw tightening, as Lynn said, “Nine.” Chapman froze.
Finally, Lynn said, “Ten.” And Dale relaxed his jaw and stepped backward.
“The challenger has lost,” Lynn announced. “Dale Addison remains alpha.” And she shifted, and suddenly the entire pride roared in unison.
Sam gasped at the sound, tears springing to her eyes with how loud it was. She could feel it in her entire body; it was impossible to think about anything but the sound.
Eventually, it died away. And then Dale paced forward, out of the circle, and shifted to human.
In a ripple across the field, everyone shifted with him, until Chapman was the only remaining lion, still lying on the ground.
A long, silent minute later, he pushed himself to his feet and shifted as well. His suit was ragged, and his hair was in messy disarray, and one of his ears was bleeding copiously.
Sam looked over to Dale, and saw that he had bloody teethmarks in his right calf. She hoped there was a good way for shapeshifters to get medical care.
“You,” Chapman said, and Sam realized he was talking to her.
He stalked to the edge of the circle, and took a final, deliberate step over it, and came right up to her face. “You bitch. If it weren’t for you—”
Sam stared at him. “How dare you,” she said.
Peripherally, she could feel Dale coming up on her right side, while Lynn stood solidly at her left, but for the moment, all she could see was Chapman. “You kidnapped me, you hurt me, you tied me up, and you threatened to kill me if Dale won this fight. Well, guess what. Dale won this fight, and you don’t get to kill me.”
“Better think twice,” Chapman snarled, and shifted into a lion.
Beside her, Dale and Lynn both shifted too, but Sam was barely aware of it, because a hot, tingling sensation was sweeping over her.
She knew she should be running away, but instead she could feel a growling sensation in her chest, and she was leaning forward—
—no, wait, she wasn’t leaning forward—
—she was putting all four paws on the ground. She was a lioness.
Her whole body felt alive. She was filled with strength and ferocity, and for the first time in a long, long time, she wasn’t afraid at all.
Her claws extended, ripping into the grass, and she bared her teeth at Chapman and growled.
Chapman had jerked back in surprise when she shifted, and now was staring at her in utter disbelief. Sam growled again, wanting him gone.
Dale’s mane brushed against her, and she stepped closer to him, until they were standing shoulder to shoulder. She felt invincible—not only was she a lion, but her mate was next to her, and when she inhaled, he did as well.
And together, they roared.
Chapman leapt back. Sam snarled at him, and it felt good.
Chapman shifted to human, and Dale did as well. Sam followed reluctantly. It was easy to shift back—she found that she could think about her human body, and her lioness form melted away—but the second she was human, she wanted to go back to her other shape.
But there were more important things to think about, like Chapman’s retreating form. “How—” he said. “Addison, you turned her? That’s against the rules!”
“Funny you should care so much about the rules now.” Dale’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “But it wasn’t me. It was Freddie.”
Chapman’s face transformed into an ugly sneer. “Freddie,” he said. “I’ll kill him.”
“Good luck finding him,” Dale said. “Although you’ll have plenty of time to do it, because according to pride law, you mus
t be out of our territory by tomorrow morning, and you can never again come back. If any of us sees you here after dawn tomorrow, the penalty is death. Do you understand?”
Chapman snarled at him. It sounded weak to Sam’s ears, after hearing a real roar.
“Do you understand?” Dale repeated.
“I understand,” Chapman ground out.
“And one more thing.” Dale took a step forward. “If you ever look at or speak to Sam again, I will kill you. Stay away from her.”
Chapman snarled again and stalked off the field.
Together, the pride waited in silence until they heard the BMW’s door slam, the car start, and Chapman drive away.
“Well,” said Lynn once he was gone, “I hope he doesn’t stop driving until he hits the Pacific.”
“I hope he keeps going,” Sam said. She turned to Dale. “Are you okay? You’re hurt.”
Dale shook his head. “It’ll heal, don’t worry. Shifters heal faster than ordinary humans.”
Sam frowned. “You don’t need a doctor?”
“I really don’t,” Dale said. “I promise you.”
Sam subsided, satisfied that while Dale might have enough male pride to claim that he was fine at first, he wouldn’t look her in the eye and lie.
“Now,” said Lynn, “it’s time to acknowledge our new alpha lioness.”
Sam blinked. “I thought—” she looked at Lynn. “Aren’t I just your apprentice for now?”
“Practically speaking, yes,” Lynn said. “Officially, it’s time to recognize you now. It takes a while for a new alpha to learn what’s what, but that lioness is the alpha from the moment she’s acknowledged. Dale Addison,” her voice took on the more formal tone she’d used in the circle, “do you recognize Samantha Holt as your mate and the alpha lioness of this pride?”
“I recognize her,” Dale stated. He shifted into his lion form, and turned to Sam.
Sam shifted too, since it seemed to be the appropriate thing. It was amazingly easy—it felt like she was just acknowledging a part of herself that had always been there.
Dale nuzzled her neck, and then sat on the ground. Sam sat next to him, and the entire pride shifted as well, and they came together in a group around Sam and Dale, and collectively bowed—even Lynn—until their noses touched the ground.
Sam felt a little uncertain for the first time since she’d changed, but—if this was her responsibility now, it was her responsibility. She sat tall and vowed internally to be the best alpha lioness she could be.
After a minute, everyone sat up and changed back, and Dale and Lynn followed suit.
“That’s the boring part over with,” Lynn said. “Do you want to change and run for a bit?”
Sam felt her eyes get wide. She thought about darting through the hills with the pride, Dale by her side. Her paws on the ground, scenting the air.
“Yes,” she said.
“Then let’s go,” said Dale, teeth flashing in a wide, happy smile.
* * *
When they got back to the studio, Sam was exhausted but delighted. They’d had an amazing time—it had actually been fun.
Sam hadn’t realized lions played games with each other, but in a way, it had been like running around with a bunch of big cats. As a cat. They’d darted around, chased each other, leapt for low branches, and generally had a great time.
Sam had wanted to go back to Dale’s apartment and spend a delicious hour or so together before she had to go to work, but Dale had said that there was one more thing to take care of at the studio, so they’d driven here instead.
Inside, Lynn was waiting at the desk. “Sam,” she said, “I want to offer you a job here at the studio. You’d be my assistant, dealing with the administrative and financial matters pertaining to the business. You can take some time to think about this—”
“I don’t need any time!” Sam interrupted. “Sorry. I—I would love to take a job at the studio.” Quit her job? Work in the same building as Dale? Work as Lynn’s assistant, and have a chance to learn from her? This was like a dream come true.
“All right,” Lynn said, smiling. “I just wanted to make sure you really wanted this. I have the paperwork here, if you want to take a few minutes and sign everything.”
“Yes. Please.” Sam looked at Dale. “Was this your idea?”
“Technically, yes,” Dale said, “because I thought of it the day I met you. But Lynn suggested it to me, not the other way around.”
Sam was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. “Thank you,” she said to Lynn. She looked at Dale. “Thank you.”
Dale shook his head. “Thank you. I love you.” He kissed her.
“I love you,” said Sam. “And I already love this pride. I can’t wait to learn everything you have to teach me,” she said to Lynn.
“Start by signing, and we’ll go from there,” Lynn said dryly, and Sam laughed and signed.
* * *
Epilogue: One Week Later
“Are you sure?” Sam asked Dale, who was just hanging up his phone. “Don’t they have things to do?”
“They have to get to know their new alpha lioness.” Dale squeezed her shoulder. “Besides, everyone spends some of their time helping out the pride, around the studio or out in the country or wherever. It feels good.”
Sam could attest to that. She’d spent the last week shadowing Lynn at the studio, getting to know the rest of the pride who worked or studied there, and she felt so full now. Like everything she did was meaningful, and with every move she made, her life became more intertwined with Dale’s and the pride’s. It was wonderful.
And she knew she’d never be alone again.
Especially not after today. She looked around her apartment, which was all boxed up and ready to go. “Where’s the list?”
“Right here.” Dale brandished the sheet of paper.
While Sam packed, he’d labelled all of the boxes, indicating what was in them, what room in Dale’s apartment they were going to, whether they were fragile, and whether they could go on the bottom of a stack or had to be on the top.
Sam truly wanted to help Dale relax and stop taking responsibility for everything in his life, but she had to admit that his attitude had its uses. The List had become central to the moving plans.
The buzzer sounded. “That’s Lynn with the truck,” Sam said, hitting the button.
“Great,” Dale said. “She and I can get started, and you can take a break and wait for the cavalry.”
“I can do something.” Sam looked around at the stacks of boxes.
“You packed the last of everything last night while I was still at work, even though I said I wanted to help,” Dale said.
“You were at work, not sitting doing nothing,” Sam argued, when there was a knock on the door. She went to open it.
“I was doing paperwork,” Dale said. “While you were lifting heavy things. That seems wrong.”
“Lionesses can lift what they want,” Sam said.
“Women can lift what they want,” Lynn added as she came inside. “Are you saying we’re weak?”
“No!” Dale was starting to look flustered. “I just want to help—” He frowned at Lynn. “You’re teasing.”
Lynn turned to Sam. “You’re very good for him. He never would have figured that out before.”
“You never teased me like that before,” Dale protested.
“No, you just never noticed,” said Lynn. “Now, I’m parked out front, so it’s time to quit being ridiculous and pick up some boxes.”
Dale lifted his hands in surrender and led the way.
The buzzer sounded again, forestalling any more arguments Sam might have made about wanting to lift one box of her own stuff.
She was honestly excited to see what she could do with her new lioness strength. She’d already taken a few special self-defense lessons with Lynn, and she was amazed at how strong she was now, even in her human form.
Dale and Lynn left the apartment, each with boxes stacked
high, and at the same time, three teenagers clattered down the hallway and stopped at Sam’s door.
“Hi, Sam,” said the oldest, a boy named Travis who, Sam had been informed, was Dale’s second cousin and had changed for the first time extremely early, at fourteen, and so already had four years of experience on Sam in the lion business.
“Hi, guys,” said Sam, motioning them in.
Travis was followed by Victoria, who was seventeen and Lynn’s fiercest follower in women’s martial arts, and Liam, who was almost eighteen and apparently much more into computers than sparring, although he was the tallest of them all and looked like he could lift more than any of them combined.
“So Dale made a list,” Sam said. She held it up, and watched Travis try to hold back a grin. “It’s color-coded,” she added.
That got her a few giggles.
“This is why everyone should have a pride alpha coordinating their move,” Sam said. “So basically you want to take boxes with a red sticker first, and put them on the bottom, and then an orange sticker, and so on. Blue and purple stickers are fragile.”
Victoria reached for the list, and examined it. “When did he have time to do this? He’s always at the studio. I thought he slept there until I heard you guys were moving in together.”
Liam elbowed her, and she glanced up at Sam, half-guilty.
“I do have a couch in my office, but it’s too small for me to sleep on,” said Dale from the doorway, and all three of the teenagers jumped.
“I just want to thank you all for doing this,” Sam said over Victoria’s I—uh—I didn’t— “I really appreciate you guys taking time out of your days, and I promise there will be pizza when it’s all over.”
“Score,” said Travis, and grabbed the list out of Victoria’s hand; she snatched at it, and he scooted away. Liam followed them, peering at stickers as he went.
“I hope you don’t regret getting yourself into this,” Dale said, smiling warmly at Sam.
“Nope,” Sam said, smiling. “They’re cute.” And they were—rough-and-tumble and a little irreverent, but that just made them seem more like lion cubs to her.