by Fel Fern
“Damn it, Bowen!” Mike yelled but he streaked past Abram’s legs. The lion tried to make a grab for him, but Bowen was faster. Bigger predators always underestimated smaller ones, although Abram wasn’t an enemy. They’d understand. Brad came first. Mike made a grab for him, but cursed. Bowen heard him stumble a second later.
Guilt rammed into him but there wasn’t time to think, he followed the source of the roar. The flat ground under his paws changed to grass and forest floor. He heard a growl from where he came. Abram and Mike would come after him, he was sure, but he needed to find out if Brad was alive first.
He ran deeper into the woods, fur prickling down his back. He didn’t recognize these woods and his animal told him there were meaner, bigger beasts here that could easily take him down. The scent of copper hit his nose. Fresh blood. His brother? A human moan followed as he entered a clearing.
Bowen would have cried out in human form at the sight of Brad’s naked, bloody body. He sprinted to his brother, pushed at Brad’s shoulder with his furry head and hissed. Brad’s face was messed up, but one good eye opened and Brad croaked, seeing him. Relief filled him. Brad was barely breathing, but still alive. All he needed to do was get Brad to a shifter doctor.
“Bowen,” his brother whispered. “It’s a trap. Run.”
Bowen froze up as he spotted a pair of yellow eyes in the bushes in front of him. More appeared, until he lost count. A huge, scarred, black panther with half an ear torn off appeared. Blank. Fear gripped Bowen, and he felt his brother pushing broken fingers at him.
“Go, go,” Brad whispered, voice cracking, and it took him a second to realize Brad was crying.
Blank changed forms as six lean panthers surrounded Bowen and his brother.
“Bowen, I knew you’d come running to your brother. Missed me?”
Blank flashed him sharp and yellowing teeth. One of Blank’s panthers came sniffing startlingly close to Brad’s arm, but he hissed at the bigger cat in warning. The panther snapped its teeth alarmingly close to his face, and he bumped his rump against his brother’s side again. Oh God. He was screwed. He shouldn’t have bolted ahead.
Even if Mike, Abram, and Grover raced toward him, would they be able to handle Blank and six of his panthers? Blank’s crew was made up of lone, dangerous panthers who were kicked out of their packs or couldn’t settle down. Rogues. And rogues didn’t have a shred of honor to them.
Blank laughed, the sound ugly and mocking.
“Be nice to Mean Tom, Bowen. Because after I’m done with you, I’m leaving the pickings to my men. I promised them a taste of kitty.”
One of the panthers snarled and Blank frowned, fury marring his features, making him even uglier. “What the fuck, Bowen? You brought friends?” Bowen gritted his teeth. “No matter. They’ll be dead, with you to thank. Tom and Julio, take care of our uninvited guests.”
Two panthers disappeared into the direction from where he came. Bowen tensed, hearing a gunshot, then a, angry howl. Silence. Blank snarled, stepped forward and ignoring Brad’s weak protests, gripping the back of Bowen’s neck. He hissed and clawed, but Blank kept him at an arm’s length.
Blank stared hate-filled eyes at him. “You led me to a fucking merry chase, lynx, but I’m going to make sure you’re worth it. I’m going to stuff you in a cage and chain you, only taking you out when I need you. You’ll wish you were dead.”
“No,” his brother whispered.
“Maurice, end that fucker,” Blank ordered.
Time stood to a halt, as one of the panthers came close to his brother’s face and opened its big jaws. One snap, and Brad’s neck would break. This couldn’t be happening. Brad was alive, had fought to remain alive, and this was how his brother would end? This was all his fault.
A large black cat came out of the bushes, bigger than a panther. Grover, he realized. Grover lunged at Brad’s attacker, tackling Maurice to the ground. Claws and teeth collided, but despite being blind, Grover easily sunk his canines over Maurice’s throat. A glint of metal appeared from the bushes, the barrel of a shotgun, and he bet Abram was the shooter.
More snarls, and one of Blank’s panthers came at Grover, claws and teeth bared. Grover and the panther clawed at each other, disappearing into the nearest line of bushes. Another panther shifter bounded at Abram in full force, tackling the lion shifter. Abram went down with a curse, gun clattering to the ground.
God no. These men, who dropped everything to help him, couldn’t die today.
“Fuck this,” Blank muttered and turned tail, leaving his crew members and carrying Bowen with him.
Bowen struggled, about to turn back to human form to have a better fighting chance, but Blank's fist collided with his skull, making his head ring. The pain disabled his ability to think much less shift.
Blank waded further into the woods. Where was Mike? Bowen had a bad feeling about this. What if Mike did something reckless?
Up ahead, Bowen spotted a tiger waiting for them, missing a back leg, but Gods, Mike was a gorgeous white tiger. Blank released his grip on him. He scrambled to his feet, but a paw swatted at him. Blank was back in panther form. Mike let out a warning hiss and Bowen dared to look up. Fear, worse than seeing his brother bleeding on the ground, paralyzed him because he saw nothing of the man in Mike’s feral golden eyes. The beast was in control.
Chapter Nine
When Bowen shifted to lynx form and streaked past him and Mike stumbled on his crutch, the last of his patience snapped as he tasted gravel. A growl rumbled out of him. Frustration bubbled inside of him, close to spilling over, turning to anger. Useless. Helpless. Bowen should have listened to him, but if he were a stronger mate, Bowen wouldn’t have gotten away from his grasp.
“Mike,” Abram began, bending down to help him, but Mike batted his hand away.
Another roar from that blasted panther came from the woods, a challenge, a taunt. If Mike were whole, he wouldn’t have a problem dealing with scum like Blank, except he was broken, but his mate needed him most.
His tiger whispered in his mind, told him to let go, to let the beast take over. Mike needed the beast’s strength, its speed. Even with three legs, it was still a force to be reckoned with.
“Mike,” Abram sounded careful, but Mike could read the worry underneath. “I know what you’re thinking, feeling—”
“Shut the fuck up. Bowen’s in trouble. He’s my mate. I’ll save him, end that fucker, even if it costs me my life.” Mike surrendered to his tiger. Clothing ripped and white fur covered his skin. Bones and organs rearranged themselves. The change happened in mere seconds.
“Jesus,” said someone nearby, and Mike turned his head.
He snapped his teeth at the man holding the gun, another predator on his turf and tigers didn’t like to share with other animals. Some part of his mind told him this man was more than a friend, a brother, but he couldn’t put a name to that face. The memories were fuzzy but it didn’t matter. He had one mission to fulfill. Save his mate.
Mike ran toward the woods. He couldn’t run as fast he used to, but the missing hind leg was a mere hindrance.
“Grover, we’ll follow Mike,” said the same man from a moment ago.
Allies then? He’d see. Mike sensed a group of shifters gathering around a clearing, but he knew the lion and the jaguar would deal with the small fry. The leader was his. Mike ran ahead, anticipating where the panther Alpha would appear. Seconds passed. Mike began to get restless, but the bushes rustled and the panther Alpha appeared, holding a twisting, screeching lynx at an arm’s length.
Bowen.
Mate.
Mike bared his teeth in silent challenge. The panther Alpha dropped Bowen, shifted fast enough to swat, then rake, at Bowen to keep his mate in place. He snarled, smelling Bowen’s blood. Bowen could heal from those wounds. It wasn’t lethal. This panther Alpha had other plans for his mate, evil intentions, but over Mike’s dead body.
He was larger in size than the enemy, but he knew the panther Alpha
took stock of him, noticed his missing hind leg immediately. Shifters on top of the food chain always noticed weakness first, and this cocky panther Alpha thought he was easy prey.
Time to prove this bastard wrong. Even a broken tiger had claws.
They circled each other, gauging each other, but the panther Alpha grew impatient and lunged at him. Mike met the enemy mid-leap and they collided, a tangle of claws and fangs on the forest ground. The panther Alpha was smart, kept trying to get him off-balance, but Mike’s reflexes were faster, honed to kill.
The panther Alpha feinted, and Mike misjudged the swipe of claws raking his cheek. The enemy pounced on him. Mike ended on his back, and the panther snapped his teeth startlingly close to Mike’s throat, but he drew back the last second. With all his strength, he threw the panther off him.
Taking advantage of the panther’s momentary confusion, he tackled the panther to the ground and without hesitation, set his teeth against the panther Alpha’s jugular. He wanted the fucker to hurt, too, so he dug his claws into fur, until the other big cat whimpered in pain. Satisfied, Mike ripped out the panther Alpha’s throat. Blood sprayed his face and he didn’t let go, until the body underneath him ceased to struggle.
Footsteps echoed behind him and Mike instantly walked over to his injured mate, who had changed to human form. The lion shifter in human form and a black jaguar appeared, but the lion wisely held out a hand to the jaguar, a warning. Good, because right now, he didn’t like strangers in his kill zone.
The jaguar shifted back to human. Wrong move. Mike could easily end these two predators. “Shit, Abram. Mike’s gone.”
He couldn’t make sense of those words. Instincts told him to finish off the remaining threat and leave with his mate. Fingers buried into his fur. His patience was at its limits, but the one who held him and stroked his fur carefully was his mate. He waited, although he didn’t let his guard down.
“You’re wrong, Mike’s still here,” said his mate.
He felt wetness on his fur, his nose, and he flared his nostrils. More droplets. Rain? He pushed out his tongue, tasting salty water. Tears, the remains of his human consciousness said. His mate was weeping. Not badly hurt, he judged, but that salty water was for his sake. Why?
Mike suddenly felt tired. He nipped at his mate, annoyed. Better for his mate to turn back to cat, so they could leave this kill zone together.
“Mike, if you’re still in there, you need to listen carefully,” the lion shifter said. “You need to change back to human now, because if you don’t, you’ll remain a tiger forever.”
Mike didn’t like that these two strange predators kept talking. Maybe he ought to shut them both up. Dead meant they would stop yapping and he could leave with his mate in peace. His mate dug fingers harder into his fur, then closed skinny arms around his huge body. Why keep this human form, Mike wondered? Although, it did feel good, comforting.
The cobwebs in his head cleared a little and he saw his mate’s slender limbs, entangled with another, bigger male body. His.
“Mike, are you that fucking selfish that you’ll leave Bowen behind and you’ll retreat to the wild?” Abram demanded.
“Bowen loves you enough he’ll go with you, he’ll voluntarily leave his human life behind, to stay with you.”
Something about what the jaguar shifter said bothered Mike immensely. He raised his head to see Bowen gripping his jaw. Most prey wouldn’t do such a thing, but this smaller but fierce little cat was his, belonged to him.
“Baby, it’s okay. I’ll stay with you forever,” his mate whispered, planting a kiss on his nose. He twitched his tail. So much emotion in that voice. Sadness, too. His mate continued, “You want to disappear? You won’t go alone. We’re mates for life and I love you so goddamn much, so I’ll do this with you.”
A sacrifice.
Mike understood his mate was trying to tell him something important, giving up something vital.
Don’t let Bowen do this. If you let him, you’ll be taking away his human life.
Mike blinked. His tiger didn’t want that, understood it was as good as dying.
“Baby, you’re there, aren’t you?” Bowen whispered. “Come back to me. Let’s figure things out together. We have so much, to look forward to, remember? Please.”
Hearing his mate beg shattered him. More of his human consciousness came back. That was right. He wasn’t all tiger. He was human, too, and that shattered the full control of the beast. Instead of fighting his animal, he could make peace with the tiger in him, thanks to their mate, to Bowen, who was brave enough to look past his flaws and accept him for who he was.
I love you so goddamn much.
Bowen said those words. Although it was hard, like swimming his way past murky waters, Mike clawed his way back to the surface. Human skin replaced fur and bones reshaped themselves, until Mike was fully back to human. He gripped Bowen close. Bowen let out a relieved sob and hugged him tighter.
Mike took Bowen’s lips and the warmth of Bowen’s skin against his, Bowen’s heart beating so fiercely that it reminded him of life, of how close he’d come to losing the most precious thing in the world to him.
“No matter how many times you find yourself lost and alone, I’ll always bring you back,” Bowen whispered.
Mike cupped Bowen’s cheek, wiping the drying tears there. He made a silent promise to himself, that he would never see his mate cry again. “I love you so fucking much, too, little cat, but you don’t need to worry anymore.”
It was true. Mike felt something change inside of him, when Bowen brought him back. His tiger no longer felt volatile or out of control. There was Bowen to balance them, remind them that human life might be hard, but something worth living.
“Thank fucking God,” murmured Abram.
He peered at his friends, his brothers, suddenly guilty that for a moment he thought them enemies.
“I was thinking about eating you two,” Mike said. Bowen looked horrified.
Grover chuckled. “We’re not easy prey and you know it.”
Mike nodded. “Thank you for sticking beside me all this time.”
“You’re our brother,” Abram said simply. “Grover and I will deal with the bodies. I’ll call up a clean-up crew. As for Brad, we’ll get him the medical attention he needs.”
The last was delivered to Bowen.
“Will he live?” Bowen asked, biting on his lower lip.
Mike wondered at that, too. He hadn’t seen what state Brad was in but Grover answered, “He’s pretty clawed up, but no damage to vital organs. He’ll recover.”
Bowen looked relieved at the news.
Mike nodded, thankful. “I owe you two one.”
“I’ll remember that,” Grover said, leaving with Abram.
“Clean up?” Bowen asked.
“Yeah, we have numerous contacts with freelance contractors. Some specialize in clean-ups like these.”
Bowen rolled his eyes. “Okay, but seriously, you worried the hell out of me.”
And Bowen cried, too, which was unforgivable. No use lingering on the past. Mike swore he’d do better.
His little lynx punched his shoulder, then yelped. “Jesus, what are you, made of bricks?”
Mike smiled at that. “I know I worried you, but I lost my temper when you ran off and I couldn’t do anything.”
Bowen looked guilty. “I’m sorry, too.”
“It’s okay. It’s all over now.” Mike kissed Bowen on the forehead amused Bowen glared at him.
“I’m not a kid.”
Mike responded by kissing Bowen on the lips, slowly, tenderly and when he pulled away, Bowen let out a sigh.
“Much better,” Bowen said.
“Let’s go check on Brad.”
“And after that?” Bowen asked.
Mike knew exactly how to answer that question. “We go home.”
Bowen’s entire face lit up, when Mike said that.
Chapter Ten
Bowen tentatively peered throu
gh the half-opened door of the hospital room, not wanting his brother or Mike to know he was there, spying. Three days passed since the incident in Mountain Spring. True to Mike’s word, Abram’s contacts had cleared the scene and paid off any witnesses at the hotel. When Brad requested—well, demanded—he speak to Bowen’s mate alone, Mike agreed.
Seeing Brad talking amicably settled his nerves. Mike held out a hand and Brad shook it.
“Seems like we have a little spy in our midst,” Mike said, and Bowen guiltily shuffled in.
“Hi, things going good?” he asked, looking from Brad to Mike. He swore a moment ago, when Mike and he visited Brad, the two men looked ready to fight some kind of dominance battle.
“Yeah,” Mike said, the tiger shifter’s smile instantly warming him up. “I’ll wait outside. Good meeting you, Brad.”
Mike used his crutches, and before he passed Bowen, Bowen tugged at the sleeve of Mike’s shirt. Starting next week, Mike would be going to his physical therapist again to learn to use his leg prosthetic.
He was damn proud of his mate, knowing that step must have been hard for Mike. He read on the internet that some former soldiers suffering from PTSD never managed to get their lives back on track again. Mike told Bowen it was all thanks to Bowen entering his life, but Bowen thought differently. After all, Mike was going to do all the hard work.
Mike raised an eyebrow, but Bowen leaned over and gave his mate a quick kiss on the lips. Mike’s smile tugged at his heartstrings.
“See you,” Bowen said as Mike exited the room. He sat on the edge of Brad’s bed, noticing Brad looking on with undisguised interest on his face.
“How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Fluff your pillows, anything to drink?” he asked, concerned. He still felt guilty Brad got hurt on his account.
Brad shook his head and tugged down the hospital shift. The bandages were gone, replaced by healing wounds that would soon fade to scars. “As you can see, I’m doing much better.”