Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

LERRIN - Anima

—HAVE HER BROTHER I HAVE THE FALSE QUEEN SHE WILL DIE IN MY JAWS THE VICTORY IS HERE NO MORE WAITING—!

His sister, Lucine's voice sprang to life in his head, and Lerrin almost howled, clawing at his own scalp with the force and sheer noise of her sending, rebounding in his skull. No wonder the others had whined.

Lerrin snarled.

Stop screaming in the bond! he sent as loudly as he dared so the others wouldn't be further overwhelmed. But he could feel Lucine—in full bloodlust, tasting the air, ready to take a life—and apparently certain that she would.

WEAK, SO WEAK SHE THINKS TO FOOL ME FOOLISH FOOLISH FEMALE AND THEY SENT HER ALONE WITH ONLY COHORTS WHAT THE HELL WERE THEY THINKING? THIS WILL BE LIKE KILLING A CHILD—AN INCAPABLE, TRAITOROUS CHILD—

Lucine! Lerrin sent. You overwhelm the pack! Stop and calm yourself!

But then they all froze as she used the pack mind to show them what she saw.

Surrounded by the WildWood, in a place Lerrin went cold to see, Elia stood, pale and shaking, standing before Lucine, weak, but defiant. Pretending fear. Pretending a plan for freedom.

And Lucine laughing in her mind because she was toying with her.

And the King nowhere to be seen.

Trying to get through to his sister, Lerrin sent the question, Where is the Cat?

But Lucine flashed images to them all, colored with her own excitement and triumph—the dead bird at her feet, and the scent of the disformed mutant surrounding them, but no sign of him present.

Lerrin frowned. He knew where they were. Had Lucine remembered the significance of the Cave that had to be nearby? But he couldn't ask her across the pack mind, because the others didn't know and he was sworn to keep the secret.

Teeth clenched in frustration, he sent, Wait for us, sister. Let us hedge you so there is no chance of surprise. The Cat will not be far from her and we aren't yet at his tail—

I ALREADY HAVE HERE ENJOY THE VICTORY! Lucine howled to them all.

The other wolves, none of them hiding themselves anymore, danced with the desire to run, and their whines cut through the forest silence again. Though none of them had shifted yet, they were catching her bloodlust through the pack mind and feeding it, sending her images of teeth closing on throats, of claws tearing open stomachs.

Lerrin snarled a warning and they settled. Reluctantly, however. They were all eyeing him, but their bodies leaned in the direction of Lucine.

Lucine, hold! He sent so firmly one of the wolves near him submitted.

The first fist moves already, they have the scent. But the Herd Captain is coming, you must be careful! He tried to color the instruction with deep caution, a wolf that scented a bear. But Lucine had given over to her beast and he couldn't reach her deeply enough to overwhelm the euphoria and lust to kill.

He growled his censure to his sister and the wolves around him flinched.

We do not know where the King is, do not—

Howls raked the air as they all tasted the blood of the Leonine Queen and even Lerrin struggled to contain the hunter within that strained to join the killing. He gritted his teeth.

LUCINE!

Then it all happened too quickly.

As the wolf pack rose from their silent crouches and began to run, to join their Female Alpha in her victory, they all felt it happen in images, sounds, and scents that passed so quickly, each one barely registered before the next came.

Lucine's snarl of triumph that quickly turned to frustration when the false Queen diverted her bite with a well-timed limb

More blood. More ecstacy.

The briefest flash of feline pelt and lion eyes.

Lucine's growl, but new resolve—to kill the King.

Her whip-flash quick turn to come at him as Elia fell to the dirt.

The scent of Reth's human form.

The taste of his blood!

And then, in a moment that would never leave him, before Lerrin could question why Reth would take human form—the screaming, jarring jolt of pain that hit all of them at the base of the skull.

To a man, the wolf packs fell to their knees, howling as their Alpha Female screamed in their heads even as she savored the cat King's blood.

Lerrin gripped his skull and opened his mouth to scream a warning to her, but Lucine, roiling in rage and bloodlust, shook her head to tear his skin.

But she shook against the cold intruder in her skin.

And that jolt cut free.

And she was gone.

His sister was gone.

Where her heart, her blood, her self had stood in the pack mind, there was nothing. Only absence.

No.

NO.

Lerrin shoved the pack mind away as the howls of the grief of the pack rose to ride the air, to carry her soul to the Creator.

No.

Lerrin found himself on all fours, in the dirt, all his limbs shaking. His breath heaving, tearing out of nose and throat.

And the remembered stink of the Cat King's scent in his nostrils. The tang of his blood on his tongue.

No.

First his father.

Now his sister?

No.

NO.

He shook with the rage of injustice, of the lies of this world that had been bred into him that deceived, telling them there was always a path to victory. That pursuit would earn triumph.

Lerrin shook with pure, cold hate for the male that had stolen everything from him.

He couldn't breathe.

Then with the briefest call to his brothers, he shifted. Lerrin's fingers clawed into the dirt as he launched himself into beast form and began to run—fleeing the feelings, fleeing the memories, fleeing the loss of everything that had mattered most to him in the world—the others on his heels.

There was a lion in the forest and it needed killing.

Now.