Levi shook off his melancholy thoughts and grinned at Oscar. “I’m in a weird mood anyway. Would you let everyone know I’m going out?”
“Sure.” Oscar eyed him for a few more seconds. “Be safe.” He turned and loped up the pebble path to the house.
Levi sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, observing the pink and orange colours fading in the sky as the sun began to sink further behind a mountain in the distance.
If he was honest with himself, he thought he might be feeling a little envious of some of his cousins. He’d listened as they talked about boyfriends and girlfriends, even casual fuck buddies, but it was the ones who had somebody special, or somebody potentially special, that Levi was jealous of. A petty emotion he wasn’t proud of, but he wanted such happiness for himself.
Maybe if I got out more, went to the bigger cities…
Holton was the nearest town, and calling it a town was charitable. There was a solitary blinking yellow light and a diner that looked decrepit but served the best Mexican food ever. A couple of gas stations, the bare makings of a town, really, and not much more. There wasn’t even a school. The few kids in Holton were either bussed or driven to the next closest town, Blankenship, where they joined other kids gathered from tiny towns in the county. Still, it wasn’t bad. The people of Holton were generally good-hearted and friendly. It was just lonely for a gay man in this area.
I need to stop this fricking pity party right now.
Levi crossed over to a pouch tied to a pine. He stripped then stuffed his clothes in the bag before dropping to his knees. The sun began its final farewell for the day, and Levi pressed his palms to the cooling earth, giving himself up to the change. Shifting wasn’t instantaneous or painless, but the freedom he had in his feline form was worth any price.
His groan morphed into a mewl as bones popped and muscles rearranged themselves. His jaw ached, his entire skull throbbed then the pain vanished like a bubble bursting. Euphoria replaced the agony and Levi chuffled, the comforting sound tickling his nose when he exhaled. He arched his back and twitched his tail, then growled playfully and bounded off into the woods.
He easily picked out the trail he wanted to take despite the darkness made even more so by the heavy foliage. In minutes he was deep in the forest following a promising scent for dinner. The rabbit was fast, but not fast enough, and Levi pounced, making the kill quick and painless as possible.
Once his stomach was full and his paws licked clean, he lolled on the ground for a while, soaking in the peace he always found here. If he wasn’t quite as at peace as usual, he was still okay. Levi knew he wasn’t an asshole. He was happy for his cousins, and maybe, if he was lucky, he’d find his own special man. Of course, the man would have to be
really
special—special enough not to look at Levi and judge him by his appearance as so many others did.
Levi was big at six-one and a little over two hundred pounds, and he had rough-hewn features. He’d been told a couple of times his height and build along with his looks made him appear more masculine than the average guy. Looks and all the rest were deceptive, though. None of it meant he was some big dumb brute who wanted to shove down smaller men and fuck them until they screamed.
On the contrary, Levi kind of wanted to be the shoved guy, wanted a little tussle and battle before having another man’s strength hold him down. It wasn’t that he wanted violence, not force or rape or anything like that. It was a muddle in his mind at times, but what he wanted was someone strong enough to overpower him, but gentle enough not to do so if Levi didn’t want to be overpowered. He thought he’d like it, but considering he’d always topped except for one disastrous attempt at bottoming years ago, Levi suspected his fantasy would be better remaining just a fantasy.
Still, even in his leopard form, the thought of being taken was arousing. He imagined a strong body on top of his, a thick cock rutting into him, his faceless, nameless mystery man holding him and shoving Levi against the ground every time he thrust. Levi mewled and clenched the muscles around the pulsing centre beneath his tail. God, but he was randy tonight! If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was in heat, something that definitely didn’t happen to the males of their species. They were receptive to their females, if they were straight, of course, but—well, he didn’t know what was wrong with him tonight. He was off-kilter.
Of course, it probably had a lot more to do with his right hand being his best buddy for the past year. Levi chuffled and rolled onto his belly. He contemplated shifting again just to beat off and relieve the pressure in his balls, but he was enjoying his leopard. And besides, anticipation was at times a very good thing. It might even make his climax, when he finally did beat off, one of those rare, brain-meltingly explosive ones. Once he’d decided to abstain from pleasure for a while longer, he let the streams of moonlight filtering through the leafy branches bathe him and lull him into a light doze. It was contrary to his nature, at least as a snow leopard, but the night breeze was cool, and he was relaxed, so Levi went with it, wrapping his tail around his body and tucking his head between his paws.
Chapter Two
After weeks of making his way down from Pennsylvania, Lyndon Hines was ready for an unencumbered run. He’d skirted the small town of Holton, Colorado, and come to the brink of a forest he thought was probably part of a state park. If not, someone was sure lucky, because the land was beautiful. There’d been a pull to his gut when he’d looked out the window at the lush foliage, a weird longing vibe had roared up inside him, and Lyndon had needed out immediately. The trucker who’d given him a ride had let him off on the side of the road when Lyndon had asked. Now he was itching to shift and let his cat out.
For the first time in months, he didn’t feel hunted—not yet anyway. Something about this area felt right, at least for now. If he wanted to believe it felt a little
more
right than some of the other places he’d encountered in his aimless wanderings, well, there was no harm in hoping. Lyndon felt like he’d been trying to find a place where he belonged all his life. To think he’d never find it would bring him to the brink of a hopelessness he couldn’t contemplate. Not if he wanted to survive. Most days he did, or his cougar did.
Sometimes Lyndon wondered what the whole point in going on was. Then he’d get mad at himself for being such a whiny idiot. He hated those moments of doubt when he felt so lost and alone. There was no room for such thoughts in his life. They undermined his confidence, and Lyndon knew it. He tried his best to shake them off and think about what he wanted in life.
Peace. Love. Acceptance. Those were what Lyndon wanted, what he thought he needed. And they had to exist, otherwise he couldn’t fathom what the whole point of life was. So Lyndon would stick out his thumb and carry what few belongings he had in the hopes of finding a special place, special people, or just one very unique person who would love him.
This had been his pattern since he’d left Texas. First he’d fled south Texas, chased off by his father who didn’t care enough about the human side of them to share his territory. Lyndon wondered how many other siblings he might have roaming about, searching for a home of their own. Maybe they’d come through better adjusted, though. After all, Lyndon could still be doing something with his life, found a different job in marketing or a convenience store, even, and tried harder to live like a normal human being.
He just hadn’t fitted into that mould. He’d tried, for years he’d tried, but Lyndon had finally walked in to his apartment one day and didn’t just look at it, but
really
saw it for the first time. There was nothing about it that made it feel like home. The walls were white, bare, the furniture sparse and mis-matched in an unattractive manner. But it was more than the look of the place; that, he could have fixed. It was the sheer alienation he felt at that moment, as if he was living someone else’s life and it was three sizes too small.
That hadn’t been the push that had sent him running, though. No, that impetus had come shortly thereafter when he’d got off work, tired from a particularly rotten day with unhappy clients and unhappier bosses. All he’d wanted to do was collapse into his bed, but was stopped by the pungent odour in his apartment. Virtually everything he’d owned reeked of another cougar marking his territory. Lyndon had been freaked, not recognising the scent of the warning left behind. He knew what it was, but not who had left it. It hadn’t been his father who had made him run this last time. His attempt to make a home for himself had already been a failure, but the invasion compounded with it and made staying an unbearable thing for Lyndon to do.
Lyndon had quit his job at the advertising firm he’d worked for in Dallas, not bothering to give notice once his boss snarkily told him it wasn’t necessary. Then he’d set about selling everything he couldn’t take with him in a duffle, which was most of what he owned. The pervasive feeling of being watched had been disturbing, and Lyndon had got the feeling his time was running out.
He hadn’t cared enough to stay and fight—fight who, and for what? So instead Lyndon had left. Ever since then, he’d been searching for—he didn’t
know
what, but hoping he’d recognise it when he found it, and trying to escape the sensation of being scrutinised.
That warm, tingling sensation tickling his spine made him think that maybe, this time, he had escaped as he looked at the magnificent trees. After glancing around to make sure no one was around to notice him, Lyndon cleared a fence then dashed into the dense foliage. He stood there for several minutes, observing, scenting, listening.
Once he was assured it was safe, Lyndon stripped down and tucked his clothes and pack into a cluster of branches. He then spread out on the rough, cool ground and rolled, saturating himself in the smell of the land. Eventually he shifted and saw the forest through sharper eyes, smelt it through a more sensitive nose. His ears twitched at the sounds of prey skittering in the distance.
Lyndon growled softly, the vibrations from the noise rushing down his chest. He flicked his tail as he considered which prey to hunt. He needed a challenge despite the ache in his belly. Tipping his head, he drew the scents deeply into his lungs.
Deer
, his cat yowled, and Lyndon had to agree. As a cougar, he followed the animal’s urges to a degree, and a deer would provide a feast for now and more meals for later—if nothing else dug up the remains once Lyndon buried them. That was the cougar’s way, and Lyndon had accepted that part of himself the day he’d left Dallas. He’d had to in order to survive. There was no room for a queasy stomach in his current lifestyle.
The trail the deer left behind was tricky, and Lyndon seriously considered going after a rabbit instead, or any available meal. It had been two days since he’d eaten anything more substantial than an energy bar, and his belly was letting him know how displeased it was about that.
Lyndon finally spotted the deer, a lovely doe. She had a healthy build, and Lyndon was contemplating his fine dinner when the doe’s head jerked up and she gave a frightened sound. She bolted, running off in a panic. Lyndon started to follow until it occurred to him something had scared the deer, and it hadn’t been him. He’d been silent as death stalking his prey, and had been careful to remain downwind. What had spooked the stuffing out of his dinner?
The answer came on the breeze, a pungent scent of cat, different from his own.
Not a cougar then, but what the hell else would be out here?
Lyndon racked his brain until a subtle variation in the odour became detectable. Man and beast, combined, and the smell went straight to Lyndon’s groin so rapidly it stole his breath. Lyndon huffed and sat back on his haunches, stunned by this new occurrence. He’d figured there were other shifters—why would cougars be the only kind? But he’d never encountered another before.
It wasn’t like there was a secret shifter meeting ground or whatever. Well, maybe there was, and he didn’t know about it because…it was a secret and all. There’d probably be a secret handshake required to get in, too—and he was mentally babbling, something he tended to do every now and then when his nerves threatened to riot. Curiosity and fear warred against desire, and his cougar’s territorial nature was throbbing against his skull, urging him to attack the intruder.
Luckily, Lyndon wasn’t just a cougar. He could rationalise and soothe that part of him that sometimes wasn’t reasonable. Another deep inhalation calmed his beast more effectively than he could have, though. That tantalising odour sank into him, coiled around his insides and drew him forward on stealthy paws.
Lyndon wasn’t exactly calm, however. He was boiling with a need he’d not felt before, and his penis was so hard it ached as it protruded out of its sheath. Lyndon could smell his arousal, was both amused and shocked by it, but more than either of those, he was eager to find the male shifter who caused such a reaction.
The deeper he got into the woods, the stronger and more numerous the scents of other cat shifters became.
There must be a pack or something like it, a feline one here—and I’m likely in their territory.
It would probably have been best to turn and vacate the forest, but Lyndon couldn’t, not when there was that one specific, fresher scent of man and cat tugging at his gut. It was like trying to resist chasing a ball of yarn—he just couldn’t do it, not when he was in his feline form.