by T. S. Joyce
“Are these messages from your old Pride?” she asked.
“Yeah. The one I grew up in. There are a hundred more messages just like those. I killed their Alpha, so I’m supposed to step up for them now.”
“But…it wasn’t just their Alpha. He was your dad. They aren’t angry that you killed your own dad?”
“The lions left in the Deadlies Pride aren’t right in the head. Never were. They don’t care that their Alpha is dead. They just care that someone steps in and keeps them all steady.”
“And you’re supposed to do that?”
He nodded his head, his lips forming a thin, unhappy line. “I always knew I would end up back there. I just didn’t know how it would happen. Never would’ve guessed it would be because things got so shitty that I had to kill my own father.” Pain and anger flashed through his eyes, but in an instant, he rearranged his face to stoic and leaned back in his chair again. “Anyway, my destiny was set the day I was born.” He cracked his knuckles. “My dad almost took me on a trip once when I was eight. My dad didn’t want a son. He wanted a weapon, so I started fight training when I was little. But that trip…I was so excited, I packed my little suitcase a week early, counted down the days to our father-and-son trip. You have to understand, my dad was Alpha for a long time, and his priority was the Pride, not his cubs. So Sora and I were on our own a lot. We were starved for his attention. Any word he would say to us in passing. Any time he actually came home in time to tell us goodnight. It’s not tragic, being ignored like that, and I’m not trying to make you sad. He was brutal, loud, and demanding, quick to point out any of our imperfections. But when you’re a kid, you look for light. It’s natural. So we lived and breathed for his approval because he was king there. Everyone lived for his approval. I didn’t realize until later that he didn’t earn their respect, though. He was just a dominant, aggressive bully with a lot of power, and everyone was scared of him. So the morning of this trip, Sora’s at the breakfast table crying because she feels left out, and I’m feeling like shit because she wasn’t invited. Mom’s staring out the window like always, looking sad as hell with her life, Dad’s insulting her cooking as usual, and I’m sitting on this bench at the front door clutching this suitcase because I just know in my heart that this trip was going to make my dad like me. He was going to approve of me. We were going to bond.”
Orion’s eyes had lightened to almost white now, and he was staring off into the woods with a faraway expression. “There was a knock on the door, and I remember the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, like I’d grabbed an electric fence or something. I knew…knew…that whatever was on the other side of that door was something terrifying. There was this heaviness that pressed against my back, and when I looked at my dad, I knew he could feel it, too. He stood up so fast the chair fell back and crashed onto the floor and one of the legs broke. I remember he yelled at my mom, “Dammit, Lore!” like it was her fault. He stomped on over to the door, took one look out the peephole, and uttered a string of curses. When I asked who it was, he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, opened the door, and shoved me out first. I’ll never forget the moment I saw Beaston.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what? The Beaston? Of the Gray Backs?” Annamora asked. “The one who knows the future?”
Orion huffed a humorless sound. “He isn’t what everyone says. They talk about him like he’s this angel or something. A perfect legend. But when you actually meet him? He walks with a deep limp, his hair is dark, and his eyes are this bright green I’ve ever seen on anyone. He had a beard that was showing a little silver, and his face was twisted with hatred. He made the air around him impossible to breathe in. His massive fists were clenched at his side like he wanted to put them right through my face. It wasn’t me he was pissed at, though. He looked at my dad and growled the worlds, ‘I know you. Seen you in my dreams, and I don’t want you around my territory. Sick a dragon on you for dragging all those ghosts to my home. Your place is here.’ I didn’t understand. All I knew was I was standing in the middle of my pissed-off dad and a pissed-off stranger, who was definitely a big predator shifter. My dad said, ‘I want to know his fate.’ Beaston asked, ‘Why should I tell you anything?’ Dad said, ‘I got cursed with a weak son. He got too much empathy from his momma and not enough fight in him. She ain’t giving me any more cubs, so I need to know if this one is a rotten egg or not.’”
“Oh no,” Annamora whispered, scooching closer to him across the porch floorboards. “That was the trip he was taking you on? To see Beaston?”
Orion nodded. “Yep. Beaston just stood there glaring at my dad, and it’s the first and only time I’ve seen my dad drop his gaze for anyone. When the man looked down at me, something in his eyes softened. I dunno, maybe whatever heartache he saw on my face got to him. I knew the trip wasn’t happening anymore, and my dad just called me weak. He knelt down and asked the weirdest question I’ve ever heard. ‘What kinda pop you like?’ I told him orange.”
Chills rippled up Annamora’s arms as something big clicked into place. Something huge. “Orion,” she whispered. She scooted all the way to him and settled on the ground right in front of him. “When I was nine, my mother took me into town. We didn’t have two pennies to rub together, so I never got treats, didn’t want them. I knew we didn’t have money. She worked herself to the bone just to put mac ’n cheese on the table. One day when we went to the laundromat my mom worked at to pick up her paycheck, there was this man…” She closed her eyes so she could visualize what he looked like, but the memory was so old, she couldn’t remember his face. Just green eyes. “He was sitting in the corner, and while my mom was talking to her manager, I wandered over to this old-timey soda machine. Never had money for it, but I liked pushing the buttons. The man smiled, leaned over, and rolled five quarters to me, one at a time. A buck twenty-five was what they cost. And he told me, ‘Orange is the best flavor.’ I asked if he wanted me to get him one. I was confused. But he said, ‘No, you try it. You deserve good things. Orange is the best.’ And then he stood up and limped out of the laundromat.”
“Holy fuck,” Orion whispered, and she could see the gooseflesh all over his arms to match hers. “Did you get one?”
Annamora nodded. “It was my favorite treat, and when my mom got a raise a couple of weeks later, she always bought me one orange soda from the machine on Fridays when she picked up her paychecks.” Holy fuck was right. Annamora hadn’t even realized it, but she’d met Beaston, too. And just now, she had a strange feeling of being a puppet and him the puppeteer, and for the life of her, she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. “What else did he say to you?”
“Well, he told my dad I would be Alpha of the Deadlies someday, and he said it with this empty smile. My dad said, ‘Good,’ and then left me out there with Beaston, like he didn’t care if I got eaten by him or not. After my dad went back inside, Beaston lowered his voice and told me that someday his raven boy would live in my territory, our paths would cross, but not until I’d turned traitor. He said I wasn’t the rotten egg. Said I would figure out someday that my dad was. He told me to practice forgiving myself because I would do unspeakable things, and guilt could make a man go crazy. Told me I would never escape the Deadlies, so don’t fight it. He called them quicksand.” Orion shrugged. “So I’m not fighting it. You know as well as I do what they say about Beaston’s premonitions. Everything he said is coming true. Learned my dad was the monster, killed my own father, killed others in the Tarian War, too. And here we are. The Deadlies are mine, lucky me. I haven’t quite got the forgiving part down, though. I don’t much like being a traitor.”
“But how were you a traitor?” she asked, shaking her head.
“I’m about to rule one of the Prides who came after Sora and my friends here. Can’t get much more traitor than that.”
“Did you do it?” she asked softly.
“Do what?”
She hooked her hand around his calf and rested her cheek on his knee.
“Practice forgiving yourself?”
Orion rolled his head back and pretended to snore, so she swatted his leg.
“In conclusion,” he said, “that’s why I can’t bring you presents anymore. I’ll be gone by next week. I’m putting in my notice with my job tonight.”
“Hmm. Just like that,” she murmured.
“Just like that,” he agreed.
“Well, then, we have one week to have fun before you turn your life into a shitshow.” She arched an eyebrow. “And look at me, actually talking to you like a normal person—”
“—You’re hugging my leg like a frightened cat—”
“—And not being my weird self around you. The pressure is off now that we are broken up.”
“Oh, God, I already told you we didn’t break up. We were never together.”
“Whatever. I got you a two-day anniversary gift.”
“A what?”
“It would’ve been our two-day anniversary if you didn’t break up with me. Here.” She pulled the wedding favor she’d taken from the event today. “They said we could have as many as we wanted, but I just wanted one. It was the last blue one they had left. The others were pink and covered in glitter.” She offered the little bag of chocolate candies to him. “The bag is the same color as your eyes.”
Orion untied it immediately and dumped the candies into his hand, handed her a few, and tossed the rest in his mouth. Around the bite, he said, “Why did you get these for me?”
“I don’t know, Ex-Boyfriend. I guess because I was thinking about you.” She was trying not to giggle at the face he made every time she mentioned breakup or anniversary or ex-boyfriend. Now he was the uncomfortable one.
This she could do—joke. Because there was no way she was going to admit how deep his leaving would hurt her. She needed to keep it together until she was in her cabin tonight, alone, where she could fall apart in private. For now, she wanted to make Orion smile. She didn’t like when he was sad.
“I have an admission,” he murmured.
“You don’t mind me hugging your very sturdy calf muscle.” She poked it, and it was as hard as a stone.
Orion chuckled and relaxed back into the chair, rested his hand on her head casually and scratched her scalp in a circular motion. She purred, of course, because why wouldn’t her lioness embarrass her right now when she finally wasn’t stumbling over her words.
“I’m not good at talking about myself, my past, or what I feel,” Orion said. “I would rather be quiet.”
“Talking about feelings makes them real sometimes.”
“Exactly. You get it. I had a feeling you would.”
“Well, you did very good with me. And I’m not good at talking either, so there’s no need to explain.”
“Why are you soaking wet?” he asked.
Scratch, massage, scratch. His touch felt so good. She was purring really loud now. “Friends probably shouldn’t be petting other friends.”
“Seriously, Anna. You’re shivering. Where’s the umbrella I gave you?”
“Lost it at the wedding. You probably shouldn’t give me stuff anymore. I’m not that responsible. My brain flits this way and that since I left the Old Tarians. There, my brain was full of a hundred things at all times, and I never missed a beat because I would get in trouble. I was careful to be perfect. But now there isn’t that pressure, so I’ve just gone back to my old, irresponsible ways.”
“You feel safe here,” he observed.
“Yeah. I guess I do. Still, I’m sorry I lost your umbrella. I let the mother of the bride borrow it, and then I got so busy with flower arrangements I didn’t think about it when I was leaving. Then I noticed your hoodie was gone from my truck, and I freaked out over that. I hope it wasn’t an expensive umbrella.”
“Nah, stop worrying over something that doesn’t matter. You just said something way more important.”
“That friends probably shouldn’t be petting other friends? But please don’t stop because it feels really good.”
He changed positions, and when he began to massage the back of her head, she nearly choked on her purring.
“Yeah, they probably shouldn’t. You know what, though? We have a week to make up our own friendship rules. I like what you said earlier about having some fun.”
“Yes! What should we do? I’m really good at Scrabble. I’ve always wanted to learn how to play horseshoes. What about building birdhouses together?”
“I have a better idea. It’s a surprise, though, for tomorrow morning. You have tomorrow off, and I have tomorrow night off. You’ll have to deal with me being a zombie tomorrow, but I know an adventure I think you’ll like.”
“A one-day breakup anniversary adventure. I like it.” Annamora beamed up at him just in time to see him roll his eyes.
“Go back to being weird and tripping on air,” he muttered.
“Don’t wish that on me! I think I’m the least graceful lion shifter in existence. It’s unfair, really.” Annamora gasped dramatically as a thought struck her. “Orion! Beaston told you that you’ll meet his son someday. Weston Novak! He’s famous, so if you’re friends someday, by association, you’ll basically be famous, too. I’m gonna need you to keep in touch and get his autograph for me. And also Air Ryder’s. And any of the dragons.” Whoo, her teeth were really chattering now.
Orion snickered and stood up. “Unclaw me, woman, I need to put clothes on you.”
“Ugh, that’s the opposite of sexy. Broken up for ten minutes, and we’re reverse-stripping already.”
Orion made his way to the door. “Remember that one time I gave you a hoodie and you took your shirt off?”
“Oh, my gosh, I don’t want to talk about it. I was really embarrassed,” she whispered as she followed him inside.
He turned and handed her the blue hoodie. “Take your shirt off.”
“What?”
He gave a wicked smirk. “And put on one of my dry ones.”
“Oh.” She pouted her lip as she looked at her clothes. “But I look kind of cute. Look, the rain is making my shirt stick to me like a second skin.” When she pulled the fabric and released, it made a wet slap on her belly.
“Yes, you do, but I don’t want you getting sick.” Orion frowned and hooked his hands on his hips. “Or something.”
“Shifters don’t get sick,” Annamora pointed out.
“I just…need you to put on something dry, okay?” There was pleading in his eyes.
She didn’t understand, but… “Okay.”
“I’ll be right back.” Orion made his way to the bedroom and left Annamora standing in the living room, hugging his hoodie.
She’d never been in his cabin before. Everything was tidy except there was a bed pillow and crumpled blanket on his couch, as if he’d fallen asleep watching TV. There were no paintings on the wall or appliances on the kitchen counters. Something about the lack of character in here made her sad. Orion hadn’t left his fingerprint in here at all. Probably because he’d always known this wasn’t home and he would leave.
Don’t fall apart now. Wait until you are alone.
Orion appeared with a towel and a T-shirt. The logo was just the word Beer. She giggled and set his hoodie down so she could undress. But as she peeled her shirt over her head, Orion turned and gave her his back.
“Gentleman,” she murmured.
“If you knew the filthy things I’ve done to you in my mind, you would never accuse me of that.”
Annamora froze. “You think of me? When you…you…”
Orion turned his face just enough to show her his chiseled jaw profile. “You don’t see how sexy you are, but I don’t have that problem.”
“H-how many times?”
Orion’s cheeks swelled with a wicked smile. “Enough. What about you? What do you think about when you touch yourself?”
Annamora went dumb. Orion had shorted out her brain, and her mind went blank. This was dirty talk, and she didn’t have any practice. “That’s emba
rrassing to talk about.”
“Why?” he asked, curiosity tainting the word.
“Well…ladies aren’t supposed to…”
“To what?” he asked, turning. “Touch themselves?” He made a clicking sound behind his teeth and shook his head. “False. I like a girl who enjoys feeling good.” His eyes dipped to her breasts, pushing against her soaking wet bra with every panted breath. His wicked smile got bigger. “My self-control slips around you.”
Annamora cleared her throat primly. “Why?” the word came out a whisper so she tried again. “W-why?”
“Because you’re beautiful and so damn sexy. Because it’s been a really long time since my lion wanted anyone. Because you keep my attention, and I can’t stop thinking about how it would feel to slide into you. Because you smell like you want me. You smell ready.”
“I smell?” Well, hell, that was mortifying.
“You smell so good,” he growled, approaching her slowly, bright blue eyes trapping her gaze. “The biggest compliment to a male is being wanted without words. I like actions, and your body talks for you. Plus, you keep showing me these tits.” His body inches from hers, he dragged his fingertips up her stomach lightly to the underwire of her bra.
Touch me. Please touch me.
Orion ran the knuckles of his hand over the swell of her breast up to just under her collar bone, and he pressed the back of his hand there. “Listen to that heartbeat go. When I affect you, that’s what gets me off, and you, Anna, you’re soooooo sensitive to me.”
“I can’t help it,” she whispered. “I like everything about you.”
He growled through a slow grin. He placed her palm over his heart and then gave off a little groan when she dragged her nails lightly down his chest, down each mound of his abs and to the hem of his jeans. Be brave, be brave, don’t screw this up!
Orion leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “Do whatever you want.”