A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com Pride and Joey ISBN #978-0-85715-316-6 ©Copyright Devon Rhodes 2010 Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright October 2010 Edited by Jess Bimberg Total-E-Bound Publishing This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork. Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom. Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
Feral
PRIDE AND JOEY Devon Rhodes
Dedication For all my readers who enjoy their stories with a side of wild—Rowr.
Trademarks Acknowledgement The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction: Photoshop: Adobe Systems Incorporated
PRIDE AND JOEY
Devon Rhodes
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Chapter One
Loving the crisp, autumn smell of a distant leaf pile burning, Vance inhaled deeply, relishing the cool air carrying the scents of fall. His exhale turned into a sigh. Just another sign of how much he didn’t belong in his own family—his ‘freakish’ love of cooler weather. Most of his werelion Brethren were definite sun worshippers, but not him. Oh no. Give him sweater weather over swimsuit weather any day. He hated to be hot, and fall meant a respite from the burning sun. Another plus to early autumn mornings? Knowing he would have the run of the sanctuary. Coupled with his preference for lower temperatures, he was also a lark in a pride of night owls. That hit his funny bone and he snickered at the disgust his macho brothers would display at being likened to birds. Oh, he was so Photoshopping their faces onto some cute, fuzzy owls when he got home. Most of his Brothers—more a collection of brothers, half-brothers, and various degrees of cousins, in actuality—were considerably older than him. Only Brady was just a couple of years younger than Vance’s twenty-four human years, which made them the two adolescent lions in the group. The rest were mated with children, and Vance was sure a more ridiculously stodgy and boring pride couldn’t be found anywhere. He and Brady had only been able to come along to a large pride gathering once, and he’d been astounded to see the liberties granted to—and fun being had by—other males his age. That was where he’d first—and last—acted upon his secret attraction to males. Oh sure, he and Brady had fooled around a few times, but he was more like a brother to Vance, and there was such a thing as being too close to someone. Kinda destroyed the romance when you’d been sharing a room since you were in diapers. And Garth would flip out if he caught them—the threat of bodily harm and banishment was a huge mood-kill as well. Their alpha, Garth—Vance’s uncle and Brady’s father—was virulently homophobic and ran their pride with an iron fist. Vance had no doubts he would be out on his ear—if he survived the punishment, that was—if Garth ever had reason to suspect his sexuality. Maybe not Brady.
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No, he thought sadly, Brady would just be retrained to ‘like’ women once the bad influence was gone. Fortunately, they were still years away from being of an age to mate, so he and Brady still flew under the radar. Vance did anyway, not nearly as important as the next heir. Poor Brady had a much closer focus on him, which was why he seldom got to enjoy regular outings like this one. Stripping quickly, and leaving his clothing in a neat pile in his usual spot by the river, Vance embraced the change and felt the disorienting shift from his human form to his lion. Shaking out his still-thickening adolescent mane, Vance set off at a slow, sustainable trot along the edge of the river towards the caves dotting the bank. Many times, he would maintain his human form and scale the rock wall using hand and foot holds, but he also enjoyed the physical challenge of leaping up in his other form, which was what he planned to do today. But just as he was crouched, poised to make the difficult jump, something set off alarm bells in his senses, and he tucked into his crouch, going completely still. Another big cat. A lion? No—he didn’t recognise the scent. Whatever it was, it was in his cave. Try as he might—knowing full well it would alert the intruder—he still couldn’t stop the rumble of his growl from boiling up. A male cat, and—blood? Some mangy interloper had dragged a kill into his lair? They had to have scented his sprays, which meant they were either crazy or challenging him. Vance had had enough. He tensed, muscles bunching under his tawny coat, then sprang almost straight upwards, his front paws landing solidly, while the back two scrambled for purchase on the limestone before settling between the other two. He perched there for a moment, assessing the situation. No movement from within. No sign that the other cat was even aware of his presence. Was it dead? He inhaled, pulling particles in the air over his tongue—no, his sharp sense of smell would detect even very early decay. Injured? Maybe. Or maybe just playing possum.
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His tail whipped back and forth, signalling his displeasure. Vance slowly padded a few steps from the edge of the ledge—stopping each foot placement to listen. Nothing. There was a bend in the cave, which formed a sort of natural protection from the elements, but also allowed smoke from the fires he occasionally built to circle out. Almost Ushaped, it was one of the reasons he’d claimed the cave the moment he discovered it. He kept some useful items for his human form stashed in cubbyholes and cairns near the back, and the thought of same random cat lying near his stuff was the catalyst that finally drove him forward, caution be damned. He moved stealthily, steadily around the bend and stopped in surprise. Instead of the cat he’d expected to find, there lay a bleeding, filthy human form, wrapped in his wool blanket, huddled in the very back of the cave. Although unconscious, his very posture and position screamed defensiveness. The cat in him wanted to remove the trespasser—now!— however, Vance’s human side reacted with strong empathy to the vulnerable man, completely at his mercy. Giving up his lion form was more of a fight than usual—his natural instincts were to hold his more powerful form in the face of the unknown. Finally standing upright, he dressed himself in some spare clothing he kept in a high cubbyhole. After some consideration, he pulled out a second set for his ‘guest’, then set about building a fire in the hearth. Placing a bowl with a flattened side made to fit against the wall under the seep spring to collect water, he settled in to wait while observing his soon-to-be patient. He was mostly covered with Vance’s blanket, which gave him a confusing scent— mixed as it was with his own. Vance was troubled further by his first impression. Why had he scented cat? Did another cat bring the man here, into his cave? A head of thick, dark hair was just visible, and his feet were bare and badly scratched. His breathing seemed regular—slow and deep. Vance frowned. Maybe too slow. Crouching down close to the male, he sniffed his breath, then lifted an eyelid with his thumb. Drugged. And with the rest of the circumstances, Vance doubted it had been of his own recreational doing. No, this one had been either drugged as a human or, more likely, tranqed in his… His thoughts stuttered to a halt. His cougar form?
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Wait just a sec… The certainty seemed to slide into his consciousness. Vance straightened abruptly, looking at the male with new eyes as he finally put two and two together. This was a shifter, just like him. No wonder he’d smelt cat. But a cougar shifter? He’d heard tales of many other kinds of shifters, but never cougars. Then again, he’d been raised in a very isolated group. He could just see his family completely dismissing and ignoring the idea of any other species. He snorted. Garth barely acknowledged that there were other lion shifters. Only when he needed to find a mate for one of his kin did he even bother to communicate with other prides. At once overwhelmingly curious about his visitor, Vance knelt again and slowly pulled the blanket completely away from the male’s head and upper body. And stared. The unconscious shifter was by far the most attractive man he’d ever seen. Accustomed to the huge, craggy features of his pride, he was entranced by the beautiful, angelic lines of his face. From checking his pupil reaction earlier, Vance knew his eyes were green—another anomaly. Almost every other shifter he’d met had some form of brown or golden eyes like himself. His shoulders and chest were lightly muscled and defined—very masculine, but carrying a lot less bulk than Vance was used to seeing. A tattoo in some sort of abstract, tribal-looking design covered most of one deltoid. He was drawn to it, and after closer examination, he noticed how cleverly the form of a cat was woven into the seemingly random lines at the centre of the design. His skin, too, was different. Very light, smooth-looking. Vance tested the shoulder with the tat. Yes, smooth and soft, with no discernable body hair below the neck—at least for the parts on display. Flushing, he had to restrain himself from removing the blanket entirely to check the rest of his person. His colour deepened when he realised that he was still stroking the tattoo, and he quickly snatched his hand away. Needing something to keep himself occupied, he drew the blanket back over the male’s shoulders and stood restlessly. He decided to take inventory of his supplies, something he hadn’t bothered to do for a while. When it was just him, it didn’t matter. But a part of Vance nudged him, whispering that it was important to be prepared, that the male might be here a while.
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Unused to company in his cave, Vance found his gaze drifting back to the huddled form as he worked. Frowning, he wondered whether the fire was doing any good at all. If he was drugged, he might not be able to regulate his temperature normally—in either direction. Better check him—I mean, his temp out. Don’t want him uncomfortable. Part of him was gleeful about having a reason to touch the male again. He’s unconscious, drugged, and most likely straight. And gorgeous. Don’t forget gorgeous. Stop it! Vance knelt again by the male, the position becoming a familiar one. He raised a hand, thinking to feel the back of his guest’s neck to try to gauge his temperature. But just as he was about to make contact with the male’s exposed nape, he suddenly found himself flat on his back, a knee firmly pressed to his chest.
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Chapter Two
“Don’t move,” Joey managed to caution, not wanting to fight, especially while in such a weakened condition. Not in good health to begin with, he was still feeling the effects of the tranquiliser and a couple of days without food, and the walls of the cave in which he’d taken refuge swam around him. Trying to keep the upper hand, but unable to come up with any ideas about how to restrain the huge lion shifter, he slowly stood and took a step back towards the entrance, wanting to keep his escape path open. “Sit up and scoot back until you touch the wall,” he directed, pleased to hear that his voice sounded stronger than he felt. The large male followed his directive without dropping eye contact, and relaxed his muscled form back against the wall, looking for all the world as if he was chilling out with a friend. Paradoxically, his ready compliance just pissed Joey off even more. He got the irritating impression he was being humoured instead of obeyed. His normal temper getting the best of him, Joey opened his mouth to snap gods knew what, when he felt his knees start to go out from under him. In an instant, the blond was at his side, easing him gently to the ground. “You shouldn’t be rushing around yet,” came the rumbling scold. “How long ago were you tranqed?” Incredulous, Joey glared at the other male. “How the hell should I know? Weren’t you paying attention when you shot me?” There was no way the lion was faking the look of shock and upset at the accusation. “It wasn’t me that shot you! I found you here in my cave about an hour ago.” At the honest and indignant defence, Joey relaxed marginally. At least this one wasn’t directly involved, although there was no mistaking his relationship to the lion he’d escaped from. Both his scent and an almost identical appearance made it clear this was a close relative of his captor. “Sorry,” Joey muttered, feeling like an idiot for apologising even as he did so. He mentally rolled his eyes. Fucking manners.
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“I’m Vance.” He settled into a more comfortable seated position next to Joey, all the while undemandingly supporting him. With everything that had happened to Joey in the past two days, the last thing he should have been feeling was comfort with any lion, yet to his surprise, Joey melted against the solid form bracing him, completely at ease. The instinctive need to maintain an escape path, to not have anyone at his back, to stay on guard—all exacerbated by his bizarre capture two days ago—disappeared as he leant against Vance. The heady scent he’d taken comfort from when he’d wrapped himself in the blanket he’d discovered was now strong around him, emanating from Vance’s warm, inviting body. That scent was one reason he’d made a split second decision and leapt up to the inconspicuous cave instead of continuing downstream. When he’d realised it was a lion’s lair, he’d almost bolted before the tranquiliser in his system had finally caught up with him. Barely managing to lay down without falling, he’d wrapped his cold, naked form and succumbed to the sucking pull of the drugs. When he’d awakened, it was pure instinct which kept him from giving any sign of his return to consciousness as he assessed his surroundings. Vance had been crouched before him, stroking his clan tattoo, sending shivers through him he could just barely suppress. A brief lapse back into darkness, and Vance had still been there, silently observing him. Even with his adrenaline high, there had been a marked absence of threat. It was only when Vance had reached for his neck that he had abandoned his pretence and reacted, to protect that most vulnerable part of his anatomy. Ingrained politeness kicked in again, as if there was anything normal about their circumstances. “Hi Vance, I’m Joey.” The absurdity of the exchange hit him, and he gave a short chuckle. But between his suddenly resurging hunger, the lingering drugs and the pacifying scent of the male so close to him, he found himself drooping even more, losing what strength he had found in his panic as he slid inexorably towards unconsciousness once again. “Joey? Ah damn, hang in there.” A firm hand on his nape shoved his head between his knees—his cat only giving a token protest to the contact. That more than anything told Joey he was in a world of hurt. “Please,” he begged embarrassingly, his voice seeming distant. “I just want to sleep.”
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“Shhh,” Vance soothed as he lifted him effortlessly, carrying him to the pallet Joey’d avoided before, lying down with him and tucking the blanket around them both. His voice rumbled around and through Joey. “Just rest. I’ll watch over you.” It was just what Joey needed to hear. Believing in Vance’s ability to keep him safe, he smiled as he slipped away, losing his tenuous hold on reality. A faint, snapping sound in the distance put Vance on immediate alert, and he reluctantly relinquished his sleeping armful. Joey clung for a moment as Vance extricated himself—even unaware, Joey’s tenacity went beyond his size. Vance heard a slight rippling as if something was breaking the current of the river, and the implications had Vance scrambling to disrobe and shift. Padding to the bend of the cave, he went still. Listening. Waiting. The tawny form of a lion suddenly appeared over the edge of the entrance, and Vance reacted instinctively by crouching to attack, even as the identity of the intruder became clear. “Whoa. It’s me,” Brady took several fearless steps forward into the mouth of the cave, coming closer to Vance with the assurance of someone certain of his welcome. Vance quivered with the effort it took to stay his leap. What was he doing? Brady wasn’t a threat—he had been in Vance’s lair many times before. It was a place to escape the prying eyes of their Brethren. But for some reason, Vance was feeling particularly territorial today. The tension of finding someone in his cave spilling over, maybe? Brady, finally catching on that it wasn’t business as usual, stopped warily, laying his ears back against his head. “What’s wrong? And why the hell does it reek of… Oh.” The surprise came across loud and clear as Brady spotted Joey. “I didn’t know you had company.” He looked from Joey back to Vance and turned to go. “Wait, Brade.” Vance gave up his defensive posture and muscled his way through the shift, which once again took more fight than usual. He tried to push down the nagging sense of disquiet until he had time to try to puzzle it out. Watching with relief as Brady shifted as well, Vance forced himself to step aside as Brady approached the pallet, looking concerned. “What’s wrong with him? He’s not just sleeping.” “Drugged.”
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Brady, an EMT studying to become a paramedic, dropped his knees and began to run through some basic assessments. He stopped suddenly, going ramrod straight. “He’s a shifter. But not a lion…” He turned his stunned gaze up to Vance. Barely staying a growl at the sight of Brady’s hands on Joey—and just who was he jealous of in that scenario?—Vance nodded curtly and knelt down beside his best friend. “Cougar. I found him in here, unconscious. He woke up briefly but didn’t get a chance to tell me who did it or anything, just that he had been tranqed.” Brady remained rigid beside him. Sensing his reaction was more than just empathy for the helpless male, Vance smoothed a hand over Brady’s bare back. Brady still didn’t react, other than to arch slightly into the comforting touch. Vance’s unease grew. “What’s wrong?” “I overheard something a couple of weeks ago,” Brady began, not looking at Vance. “A couple of Garth’s betas. At the time, I didn’t get what they were talking about.” The tactile Brady absently ran his fingers through Joey’s hair as he spoke, causing Vance to grit his teeth. “What got me listening was hearing the word ‘gay’.” That news caused a fissure of dread to snake down Vance’s spine. He’d tried his hardest for nearly a decade now to hide his preference for men from his pride, as well as keep Brady safe. Their friendship had been deep as kids, but it was cemented and sealed in blood early in their teens with the advent of the knowledge they were gay—and in danger of losing more than just their homes and place in the pride hierarchy if it were to come out. They could lose their very lives. Now past the threshold of adulthood, they were in a better position to fend for themselves if they had to run. But Vance didn’t hold any illusions. If they were found out, it would be a hunt to the death. Garth wasn’t a big believer in either live-and-let-live or loose threads. Vance was so focused on his thoughts and inner turmoil, it took him a minute to realise what he was feeling. Both Brady—still naked from his shift—and Joey were shivering in the cool. “C’mon. Under the blanket with us.” He prodded Brady, who finally let himself relax as he laid down in front of Joey. Vance returned to his position behind the cougar, and his eyes sought Brady’s over the top of Joey’s head. They lay together, sharing warmth under the cover, as Brady continued his story.
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“I heard them say something like, ‘That gay homo-kitty is a dead man walking.’ And it scared the crap out of me, thinking they’d found us out. But then Larren said, ‘He’ll arrive here next week. It’s all been arranged.’ Which didn’t make any sense; obviously they didn’t mean one of us, since we’re already here. Ya know?” Brady’s familiar brown eyes were troubled, and Vance reached across the unaware Joey and pulled the three of them together into a hug. “Yeah,” Vance responded automatically, his mind going a million miles a minute. “So you think they were talking about Joey?” Brady’s breath caught and his startled gaze flicked down to their bedmate, full of regret. “Now I know they were, if this is Joey. Because the last thing I heard before they moved away was, ‘Don’t worry. This Joey guy won’t be here long anyway. Then there’ll be one less homo in the world and we’ll be set for life.’”
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Chapter Three
Joey listened to the pronouncement of his doom with a curiously detached air. Of course, his kidnappers had made sure to regale him with even worse versions of the outcome over the past couple of days. But to hear New Guy reveal that Joey’s captors had planned his abduction from the club well in advance was new information, and it made him very uneasy. For some reason, he’d gotten the impression it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. He’d had no reason to suspect anything other than a crime of opportunity. So when he’d finally managed to escape, Joey had thought the worst was over—after all, they didn’t know his last name or where he lived. And all he’d had on him the night he’d been taken was his clothing and money clip. No ID, no keys. But if he had been specifically targeted, suddenly going back to the safety of his real life was no longer an option. So now what was he to do? He was finally breaking free of the residual chemical lethargy the drugs had induced, but he had no desire to move. Joey had to admit being sandwiched between the two young lions engendered a feeling of safety and security he longed for. Don’t get too used to it. They’re obviously lovers. When Joey had heard New Guy say, ‘find us out’, a shocking twist of jealousy had tied his viscera in a tight knot. Which was ridiculous. What right did he have to be possessive of Vance? He’d just met the guy. And Vance was involved with the hottie—yeah, New Guy was hot; he’d peeked—who was currently holding Joey against his chest. Plus Vance was a lion. Although it didn’t look like he was involved in all this—and Joey was ninety-nine percent sure both Vance and New Guy weren’t involved—he was still part of the pride which had for some reason targeted him. Even a solitary cougar like Joey knew that, with lions, the pride was family—was everything. “Joey?” Vance’s voice hit his ears as the rumble passed from Vance’s chest through Joey’s back to stir his insides. He automatically opened his mouth to reply before he thought, then stiffened, giving away his return to consciousness. Dang it. The gig was up.
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He opened his eyes to meet New Guy’s troubled gaze. “I guess you heard some of that?” he queried sadly, and Joey couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the young lion, even with himself being the wronged party here. At the same time, he felt incredibly irritated at the defeatist attitude being shown. “Geez,” he shot back. “I’m not dead yet. Can we hold off on the wake?” “Hey!” New Guy protested defensively. But just as Joey was leaning in, preparing for verbal battle, Vance pulled Joey away from the other male and effortlessly flipped him over so he was now lying sprawled on top of the muscular lion. “Hey!” It was Joey’s turn to squawk. He made a brief show of struggling, but really, he was pretty happy with his new position. He settled against Vance, feeling his body meld into the hard one beneath him. He figured he could always use his weakened state as an excuse. It was the drugs. Really. “What the hell is New Guy’s name anyway?” His tone was friendlier than his choice of words. “I’m tired of thinking of him as ‘New Guy’.” That prompted a chuckle which reverberated through his chest and gave extra impetus to his growing hard-on. “That’s Brady.” “Hey,” Brady gave him a nod, unabashedly observing the two of them with interest. That was when Joey noticed the unmistakeable tang of pheromones exuding from Vance. He turned his head to find Vance’s attention fixed squarely on him…from about two inches away. Joey could have pulled back at that point. Was there a more ridiculous time to stop everything and have sex than when you were on the run from abductors? Oh, and sharing a bed with the guy’s—Joey would bet anything—former lover? It was like a soap opera scene—maybe The Gay and The Feline. It was a bad idea on so many levels—but Joey didn’t think anything could stop his rapid acquiescence as Vance slid a warm hand slowly down his spine, raising tingles all the way. As if to punctuate his wantonness, an involuntary purr sounded deep in his throat. The sound seemed to signal the limits of Vance’s restraint as he shuddered. Suddenly, Joey was on his back, Vance braced over the top of him, and the constant growl in the back of the larger shifter’s throat should have been terrifying in such a vulnerable position. Instead of terror, Joey found himself trembling with a different emotion altogether.
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True to his cougar nature, Joey was a loner by design, not one for attachments of any sort. Oh sure, he had done his share of fucking, but never went back for seconds. His job kept him travelling, and he honestly couldn’t understand the draw that homes and routines had for most people. Joey was jumping out of his skin with the novelty—hopefully that’s all it was—of not only finding himself in the submissive position, but also having a witness to it. He moaned and arched into the carefully placed weight atop him. And enjoying the hell out of it. What is wrong with me? he thought wildly, as he rubbed against the living, breathing hunk of catnip above him. The erotic feel of their naked bodies warm against one another finally had him thinking, The hell with it, and embracing the situation. His erection heartily applauded that decision as he wrapped his arms around the considerately balanced lion shifter, finally tracing that muscled, smooth back down to his rock hard ass. With permission granted, Vance gave a slow, hot grin and dropped his mouth to take Joey’s in a carnal, lush mating. Instantly opening to grant entrance, Joey met the onslaught happily, giving back in full measure. It was a lusty, involved tasting, tongues and lips gliding and retreating. Joey couldn’t seem to stop the damn moaning and purring. Vance dropped more of his weight on Joey, and they surged together, the slide of that massive feeling cock alongside his, stabbing against his stomach as if he would find entry in any way possible. The slickness provided by their overstimulated erections made the rubbing together just about the most perfect thing Joey had ever felt. Panting against Vance’s mouth, he rocked frantically, seeking just a bit more friction… Vance pulled from his lips and rose up enough that Joey protested. Then a huge hand enveloped both of their straining pricks and squeezed before setting a non-nonsense rhythm that had Joey stuttering and soaring over the edge in no time. Neck arched, head tossing, he writhed as he came in several long pulses, coating their abdomens with rapidly cooling cum. Joey felt the scrape of Vance’s canines at his neck and, even in his repleted state, he instinctively froze. Yet again, by not moving, he was yielding superiority to this male, far from his typical practice. Indeed, with the way he was poised—still, neck exposed—it was
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almost as if he was inviting Vance’s dominance in the most primal basic way, in that of lovers—partners—mates. He waited, pulse pounding in his displayed throat, as Vance stilled as well, then sat back on his heels. Inexplicably disappointed, Joey allowed the bizarre new feelings to be submerged by desire as he watched Vance kneeling over him, bringing that beautiful cock spurting to completion with a few brutally straightforward strokes, every bit of his seed falling on Joey’s reclining form, mixing in with his own. Breathing hard, Vance used his grip to ruthlessly milk the cum from his spent cock and tap and rub it against Joey’s abdomen, swirling his pearly ropes in with the white globules of Joey’s own leavings. Funny. All that was missing was the bite and the alpha blessing, and it was like a mating. The thought had barely cleared Joey’s mind when Vance lunged. And bit.
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Chapter Four
Knowing full well of the severe consequences of what he was doing, Vance ruthlessly tuned out the panicky voice in the back of his mind, which was currently yelling full-bore for him to stop, and tried instead to concentrate on the heady feel of his mate’s flesh giving way beneath his clamping jaws. A slight tang of the amazing bouquet of Joey’s blood trickled against his tongue as he set his permanent, visible mark of ownership upon the cougar male. Instincts finally prompted him to release, sensing to his satisfaction the slightly belated marking had been successful. Vance sat back and looked at a slightly pale Brady. Their eyes met, and with the lifelong connection they shared, Vance felt Brady’s unease and quickly tamped down jealousy. “What? Brade, you’re jealous?” Vance sent, surprised and concerned. “Not specifically.” Vance relaxed somewhat. No, of course not. Their relationship was eight parts camaraderie to two parts fooling around. Brady was simply seeing the choice he, as heir, would never have available to him—the decision to mark a preferred male, rather than a female for the continuation of the line. Joey slumped in the grip of the marking stupor between them, eyes open but mostly unfocused. Vance rearranged him slightly for presentation, kneeling behind him to support his upper torso against his chest, then settled back on his haunches, waiting. The silence stretched out as Vance watched Brady slowly become aware of what he expected of him. The uneasy expression from before bloomed into a blend of comprehension and fear. “Vance.” Brady’s voice was hoarse with restrained emotion. “I’m not your alpha.” “You are the pride’s alpha heir, my future leader, Brother and friend. You have every right to bestow blessing and protection.” Vance was proud to note he sounded firm and confident, but he was churning inside, imagining the consequences of Brady either accepting or rejecting his petition. Either way, the fallout was going to be brutal.
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For Brady to reject his petition wouldn’t undo the bond he had just formed with Joey. It would simply make the union a permanent, but unofficial, one. For all extents and purposes, it would make Joey a slave—not a cherished member of the pride, but someone forever on the outside, unable to leave Vance but also unable to lay claim to him. Their connection could not be severed. It didn’t happen often that one of the pride Brethren marked someone unsuitable, but it had happened before, and the unfortunate souls remained with their lion as a thrall—for life. Technically, if Brady refused to act as alpha, Vance could approach Garth to do so. He snorted ironically. Yeah, that would never happen. Garth would sooner run Vance and Joey off than bless their union. If Brady did take the step Vance was pleading for, it would join Vance and Joey in the eyes of the pride as mates, never to be undone. It would also make Brady responsible for Joey during any absence of Vance, or in the event of Vance’s incapacitation or death. Only an alpha could bestow the marking blessing, and with Garth and Brady the only two alphas in the pride, Vance knew Brady had to be convinced to overcome his reservations and complete the marking, if only to protect Joey from what he knew would be the wrath of Garth and his betas. Because Garth was sure to see Brady’s act as insubordination, especially with the taboo on male/male pairings. Way to think with your dick instead of your head, he castigated himself. Did you really have to put Brady in this position? And did you ask Joey if he wanted to be yours? Vance’s lion harrumphed at that. He was unmarked, and he smelt right. Of course you had to claim him for us. A twitch of Brady’s lips told Vance he’d caught some of that response, and he was relieved to see the strain on Brady’s face change to amusement. “I suppose if I don’t do this, you’re never going to let me forget it.” Vance glanced down at the spirited man braced against him. “I have a strong feeling that I’m the least of your worries.” The immediate sobering as Brady recalled Joey’s verbal battling from before had Vance struggling not to laugh. “Okay, I get your point.” Brady searched Vance’s eyes. “Are you sure you want this?”
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“More than anything,” Vance vowed, knowing it was the full truth. He turned Joey within his arms, presenting his mark and Joey’s shoulder to his future alpha. With one last glance at Vance, Brady let his upper and lower canines extend. Carefully positioning his teeth so they overlapped both Vance’s mark and Joey’s clan tattoo, he bit down. Joey jerked to sudden awareness in Vance’s arms, but he didn’t fight the bite. His hand sought Vance’s, causing a wash of tenderness to run through Vance as he interlocked their fingers. He accepted the punishment as Joey held on with bruising force. Then, with a mental snap, he felt the mating bond kick in, linking him irrevocably to Joey. He got every sense of Joey’s apprehension, lust, and wonder at the circumstances he awoke in the midst of. Brady disengaged and settled in close next to Vance in a bid for comfort—no longer the alpha in this act, but a friend needing comfort, seeking solace from his uncertainties. Joey’s easy acceptance of Brady’s presence was a relief to Vance, who’d had a brief flash of panic at the idea of trying to explain his relationship with his Brother to his new mate. “Yeah, well, I’m in your head now. I know exactly what your relationship with New Guy—uh, Brady—is. Or more precisely, was,” he added with an arch look at Vance. “Don’t worry, he’s all yours,” Brady interjected reassuringly, which earned him a puzzled look from Joey. “Wait. Can you hear my thoughts too? Besides family, I thought that only happened with actual mates.” Vance found himself appreciating his new mate’s mental acumen, as he too waited for Brady’s answer. “I’m the linking alpha?” Brady guessed then shrugged impatiently. “I assume it has something to do with that. Hey, I’ve never done this before, okay? How the hell should I know?” His distress at the situation was ricocheting between Brady and the newly joined pair, and Vance suddenly felt ill with the realisation his impulsive act was the reason for his best friend’s anxiety. He was torn between his need to comfort his friend and an instinctive, almost overwhelming desire to curl around Joey and learn every inch of his mate’s delicious form.
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“Okay, not to be a buzz-kill here, because normally I’d be all over that plan, but can we figure out why your dad or whoever is trying to kill me and what the fuck we’re going to do to keep us all alive?” Joey’s timely reminder of their precarious situation brought Vance back to earth with a thud, and he stood and began dressing while alternately tossing various pieces of clothing to Brady and Joey. After a bit of judging sizes and swapping, which had Vance improbably fighting back a smile as the other two wrangled over the borrowed garments, everyone was finally covered—though still barefoot. Just as well, there was no way his footwear would fit the other two. A thought struck Vance. “Joey, did you come all the way here in your cat form?” Joey cocked his head as he regarded Vance. “Yeesss…” he trailed off, then continued a bit sheepishly, “I think so anyway. I was pretty out of it. They shot me right in the ass just as I cleared the fence, and whatever was in the syringe worked pretty quickly.” “Fence?” Brady looked at Vance with a puzzled expression, the reason for which Vance understood immediately. Garth was vehemently opposed to fences, maintaining that pride members should live communally. He hadn’t actually forbidden the erection of fences, but nobody had yet dared to test him on it. The only fence in the immediate area was around the… “The safe house?” he finished aloud. It made total sense to Vance. The building was isolated from the rest of the structures, since families only used it as a safe place to deal with a child going through their uncontrolled initial shifts. And right now, there were no youngsters in the pride and hadn’t been for some time, so it would be unused, private, out of sight and mind—a perfect place to keep a prisoner. “You jumped that fence? It’s—what?” He looked at inquiringly at Brady then back to Joey. “Ten feet tall?” Vance gave Joey an admiring once-over. A flush crept up from Joey’s chest to his cheeks, and he shrugged self-deprecatingly. “I had a pretty good incentive. It’s amazing what adrenaline and wanting to save your ass can help you do.” “Still—”
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Brady interrupted, “So all your stuff is still back there, right? Good, that’ll be proof of what they’ve done to you. I need to go there, stake it out and find out exactly who’s involved in this. Can you tell me who you saw? How many were there? Did they use any names?” As Brady’s interrogation of Joey escalated, Vance sat up straighter while a gut-roiling combination of fear and anger began to wash over him at the reminder of the danger Joey was in—and that Brady was apparently willing to put himself right in the middle of. “Wait a minute, I should be the one to go. You can’t touch this, Garth would have your head.” “Garth.” Joey snapped his fingers. “That was a name I heard a few times, but I never could tell which guy was him. One was built kind of like me, and shorter than you two. Reddish hair? Larry maybe?” “Larren,” Vance corrected grimly, his chest tightening at the thought that his cousin was involved in this. “How about the other guy?” Vance held out a dwindling hope that Garth, Vance’s uncle, foster parent, and pride alpha—and Brady’s father—wasn’t actually involved. “He basically looked—and smelt—exactly like you. Only I could tell he was older. Huge guy. Same build as you, same blond hair.” Vance closed his eyes in dismay, unable to look at Brady as he made a choked sound of anger and walked away. The only man in the pride who matched Vance for size and colouring—Garth. The only man they could have gone to for protection was the very one they needed protection from.
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Chapter Five
Brady had stalked to the other side of the cave and Vance wasn’t looking at either one of them. Heavy-hearted at their shock and pain, Joey prepared to continue with his impressions of the third man, the one he hadn’t seen, but suddenly froze with the other two as they all heard something snap not far away. Joey was at once impressed and terrified by Brady’s utter stillness and focus, the aura he gave off revealing his full alpha potential. Vance edged silently over to Joey, stepping around him and reaching behind himself with one hand to press Joey up against his broad back. Shaking, feeling trapped in the formerly cosy and welcoming den, he gratefully leant into his new mate’s strength. Suddenly, Brady was in his head. “I’m going to see what or who it is. Afterwards, I need to check on a few things. Stay here until dark. I’ll meet you by the safe house wall around midnight.” Vance was already shaking his head in protest. “Stay here.” The order was unmistakable and obeying was imperative, even to a lone cat like Joey. “Enjoy your time together.” Brady had finally walked close enough so Joey could see him around Vance’s protective bulk. “Somebody might as well have some fun, and you need to cement this whole crazy thing you’ve gotten us into.” The wry humour in his eyes belied the scold in his words. “I’ll see you later. Midnight.” He went into that unbelievable stillness again, and Joey could almost feel Brady reaching out with all his senses before he seemingly determined there was no immediate threat and walked quietly out without another word. Joey’s eyes shifted to the entrance of the cave as Vance moved slightly to one side. Freedom. For a brief moment, the urge to run, to shift, to get away from all this nearly overwhelmed him. Gritting against the flight part of his response and finally successfully repressing it, the fight instead inevitably rose within him and he gave Vance a shove. Hard. Vance whipped around and gave Joey an incredulous look which only fanned the flames. Letting loose, Joey balled his hands up as he stood his ground. “What the hell were you thinking, biting me like that? You know you can’t take it back, right? We’re stuck together for life.” Which wouldn’t be very long, but Joey knew it wasn’t the best time to go into all that.
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He hadn’t planned to have anyone mourn him when he died, much less leave a mate behind. All the more reason to make the break now rather than later. Joey’s thoughts had him abruptly erecting a mental defence against Vance. Fortunately, his mate was apparently too irritated to notice. Vance’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched at the word ‘stuck’. Far from being intimidated, Joey took another step into Vance’s personal space, tipping his head up in challenge. Although Joey wasn’t a short man, just over six feet tall, Vance simply towered over him. His sheer size was intimidating. But at this moment, Joey’s emotions were churning so hard, he could care less. “Look, you seem like a great guy. And all else being equal, you’re exactly my type. But you come with a lot of baggage I wasn’t looking for in a mate.” “Baggage?” Vance’s jaw dropped. “What the—” “Yeah, baggage.” In order to count off Vance’s shortcomings on his fingers, Joey was finally forced to back off, giving Vance a bit of space—and himself, too, since the confrontation was also serving to heat him up in another manner. “Your thing with Brady, a pretty sheltered existence—seriously, you’ve never met a cougar shifter?—and, oh yeah, your uncle kidnapped me and wants me dead for some unknown reason. Baggage,” he emphasised, with a, You see? gesture. “What about you?” Vance retorted, his stance arrogant and angry, but Joey could also sense his arousal, and it inexorably fed his own. “I’m trying to figure out what you could have possibly done that would drive my alpha to this. I’ve known him my whole life, and although he’s tough and—” he momentarily searched for the right word, “archaic, he’s all about the pride. His pride. Banish or fight a Brother for disobedience, yes—that I could see. But kidnap someone of another species in order to kill him? I just can’t believe it.” That clear expression of doubt hit Joey right in the throat. “You mean, you can’t believe me,” he corrected quietly. Suddenly, drained of his anger, numbness and exhaustion replacing it, he turned unsteadily, thinking to walk out of the cave. Vance stopped him with an unbreakable grip on his arm and turned him back around. Forcing Joey to look at him with one strong yet gentle hand under his chin, Vance declared quietly, “I do believe you. I just wish I didn’t have to, wish none of this had
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happened to you.” His eyes searched Joey’s while he pulled him into a light embrace, hands low on Joey’s back, rubbing lightly. The unequivocal statement banished Joey’s doubts about Vance’s loyalties, and the caring touch made his knees weak. As if Vance sensed this, he turned to lead Joey back to the pallet and urged him to lay down, still fully clothed. Tired and feeling dazed by all that had happened, Joey gave up on his plan to keep his distance and offered Vance an inviting smile as he turned in his arms. Vance chuckled and shook his head, settling on his back and wordlessly inviting Joey to use his shoulder as a pillow. “Maybe after a nap. You can barely keep your eyes open. We have plenty of time until we have to meet Brade.” Vance reached down and ran his hand over Joey’s hip. He trailed his fingertips lightly along Joey’s hip bone and v-cut, down to give his semi-hard cock a squeeze through the fabric, then slid his hand down the gaping back of the too-baggy borrowed pants, cupping Joey’s bare ass and encouraging him to press and rock against Vance’s hip. “Hold that thought.” His big, beautiful, blond mate quietened, his only movement besides his chest rhythmically rising and falling was his hand lightly cupping and caressing Joey’s backside. Joey would never have believed it, as turned on as he was by the feel—the very thought—of Vance’s large hand on his skin, but the contact and solid pressure served not to excite, but rather reassure. He drifted off into a natural sleep, feeling completely secure for the first time in days.
**** Wriggling back against the warmth at his back, Joey subconsciously arched against the firm ridge pressed insistently to his lower back. A hand on his lower abdomen—Vance, his mind murmured—held him in place, as if he would want to get away. Silly lion. Coming awake, already breathing rapidly as desire coiled through his body, Joey made his movements more deliberate, and felt the welcome response as a rumble shook the wall of flesh behind him “Was that a purr?” Joey teased warmly.
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“Hmph.” Vance stilled for a moment, which had Joey squirming in frustration as he tried to flip around and see his man, face to face. “Let me go, I want to turn over.” Vance responded by turning him, not onto his other side but flat on his stomach. Before Joey could voice a protest, Vance quickly covered him with his muscular body, bracing some of his weight, but leaving enough in play so Joey felt well and truly trapped. And he loved it. His cougar yowled in pleasure as Vance yanked the collar of his shirt aside and licked a broad path across his clan tattoo and the newly healing mating mark. A shot of pure desire burned a path through his chest, arrowing down to the base of his cock. At the angle at which it was trapped, the growing firmness of his shaft became a pleasure/pain which had Joey half-heartedly wiggling for release. The stimulation and mock struggle had an obvious affect on Vance, and he began a rubbing thrust that had Joey wishing he could somehow make their clothing vanish. Thought turned to deed as Vance sat up abruptly, and efficiently stripped them both. This time, he eased Joey down gently onto his back, using his hair-roughened thighs to spread Joey’s own. He eased into the cradle of Joey’s hips, all the while holding Joey’s gaze with his own. The intensity with which Vance watched his every response, every nuance of his reactions, was in and of itself an incredible aphrodisiac. Joey felt himself melting, flowing against the hard angles and planes of Vance’s dominant body. That was a surprise. Sure, he’d enjoyed being penetrated before, but only with human men, never another shifter. His cat had never allowed it, but here he was, all but inviting the pride male to plunder him at will. A side-effect of the mating? Perhaps, but Joey somehow knew even without the events of the past day, he would have still gone tail-up for Vance. There was just something about the male—the commanding form tempered by the nonaggressive, empathetic personality—that was irresistible. Even more surprising was feeling desire at all. The toll taken by his rapid decline in health had included any kind of sexual interest. But Vance was apparently hot enough to wake the dead. Joey suddenly realised Vance had stopped everything and was waiting. He gave the lion a slow, spreading smile and eased up to take Vance’s mouth in a lush, involved kiss that sapped his breath along with his restraint. His achingly hard shaft was rubbing
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intimately against Vance’s and Joey let his hands ride along that long, long back, down to the smooth, rock-hard buttocks. This was apparently the sign Vance needed, for he lost all pretence at control then. The kiss took on a life of its own as his mate’s hands were everywhere at once, stroking and plucking, clenching and soothing. Joey was giving as good as he got, learning Vance’s body, inciting action and reaction. He thrust wildly upwards, his cock gliding in the mixed precum along the rippled abs above him. In a move that took his breath away, Vance ripped away from the kiss and began to gnaw and kiss and lick his way down Joey’s heaving chest. A hard nip to the underside of his ribcage had him crying out—more with frustration at the pace than pain. Finally, a soothing tongue raced from navel to pubic bone and Joey raised his head to meet Vance’s smouldering amber eyes just as he took Joey’s cock into the warmth of his mouth. Only Vance’s firm grip on his hips kept Joey from levitating off the ground. That anchor kept control of the movement, and Vance was maddening in his refusal to settle into any sort of rhythm, first teasing lightly with lips and tongue, then applying mind-numbing suction and pressure, never allowing Joey to predict from moment to moment what the next would bring. Moving on from cupping and lightly squeezing his balls in accompaniment, Vance trailed his fingers lightly down Joey’s perineum before reaching to gather saliva and pre-cum enough to lubricate his fingers. Even knowing what was coming couldn’t prepare Joey for the unbelievable first penetration of Vance’s finger, probing confidently, patiently. Slowly. “Come on. Just do it already,” Joey groaned, becoming more certain by the minute he wasn’t going to even make it until Vance finally took him. Vance chuckled, and Joey would have bit him if he’d been anywhere near his mouth. Instead, Vance upped the pressure, rotating what felt like more than the two or three fingers Joey knew it to be. Pushing out deep exhale after exhale, he finally felt his body relax, and apparently Vance did too, because he spat twice in succession, working the first into Joey and smoothing the second over his heavily veined erection. A heady warmth spread through Joey at the first sight of Vance’s cock, erect with the foreskin retracted. There was no time for alarm at the sight of exactly how much was going to
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be inside him because suddenly, he was in, and Joey gulped double breaths of air, head thrown back, as he adjusted to the sensation of being so completely filled. Then the world disappeared, or it might as well have, because Vance began to move, matching his movement within with the tender stroking of his tongue against Joey’s. His hand between them jacked Joey in concert with his other motions, and it only took a few catches of Vance’s calloused thumb against the rim of his cock head to bring the climax boiling up from the base of his spine to shoot hard, decorating their chests with his cum, startlingly white against the deep golden chest above him. A dozen more measured thrusts, and Vance was filling him with his heat—a new and amazing sensation Joey relished. He had never been on the receiving end of sex with another shifter before this, and he was deeply glad his first time without the condoms necessary to human interaction was with his mate. It was almost as if the seed seared into his flesh, making him more a part of Vance than before, more than even the bite. Cementing things, Brady had called it. Ironic, since the realisation Brady was right on the money about that came hand in hand with the firm knowledge he would have to rip himself apart from Vance tomorrow. And would bitterly regret it for the rest of the short time he had left on this earth.
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Chapter Six
The black of night found them waiting tensely behind the wall of the safe house, the very place Vance himself had lived twice before, once as a child learning to control his shift, and again just after the death of his father when that control had fallen away. A young teen at the time, he had taken it particularly hard when his father—the only parent he had known—had gone missing. When the news came back that Peter had been killed through the treachery of a rival pride, Vance had completely lost control in his grief. It had taken two adults to restrain him and several weeks locked in the safe house to regain control of himself, during which time he would permit only Brady, who had been living in the safe house at the time while going through his first shifts, to come near him. Vance had emerged quiet and determined, vowing to help his uncle uphold the pride his father had helped build. For although Garth had been prime alpha of the pride, his brother Peter, also an alpha, had been a de facto co-leader. Vance had been a disappointment—a non-alpha could never ascend to leadership—and when his status had become apparent after his first shifts as a young boy, Vance acutely felt his father’s abrupt withdrawal. Thus they had not been close when Peter had died, but Vance had still felt the filial bond and mourned the loss regardless. Garth had changed as well after the loss of his brother, both in his leadership style and his personal interactions, becoming more heavy handed and less tolerant. His own form of grief, Vance supposed. But he had never been unfair or violent, which made his kidnapping and threats to Joey that much more incomprehensible. Vance glanced over at Joey, his vision unimpaired by the darkness surrounding them. Joey appeared lost in his own memories, perhaps of his escape from here. He gave a slight mental nudge and recoiled as Joey’s defences slammed down as would a heavy window. “Sorry.” Joey finally looked at him, an inscrutable expression on his face in the shadows. “You surprised me.” He opened up mentally, but Vance got the distinct impression that Joey was keeping his thoughts clear deliberately, trying to screen his thoughts from Vance.
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And though he understood—they were practically strangers, after all—he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the rejection. “Where’s Brady? He’s late.” Worry coloured Joey’s thought, and Vance shared his apprehension. For Brady to be so specific about the time then not show… He looked at his watch. Half past. “I’m going to go take a look. Stay here and keep watch for Brady.” Joey seized his arm. “I should go. This is all my fault.” “It’s not your fault. It’s my pride that’s behind this. I’m at least going to go in and get your stuff.” He pulled away and gave Joey a reassuring smile. Joey still looked uncertain, but finally nodded, moving to a better vantage point a short distance away as Vance walked to the corner of the fence and peered around the side. No one there. He quickly made his way to the front gate, the shortest part of the fence, and the only part under surveillance. Vance had his doubts that anyone would be watching at this very moment, but he paused short of the area he remembered to be visible on the video feed and jumped, his practice getting up to his lair standing him in good stead as he caught a solid grip on the top of the fencing. Doing a pull-up then swinging a leg over, he paused and scanned the yard and along the safe house. No movement. It looked abandoned, unused. Mentally cursing for not thinking to ask Joey how he’d gotten out of the house, he tried to reach out to his mate. “Joey?” Getting no response, but chalking it up to the newness of their bond, he finished the motion to drop over the other side of the fence and approached the house. Remembering that the office window’s lock had never latched properly, and betting it had never been fixed, he carefully removed the screen and pressed the glass upwards. Bingo. The shuddering of the wooden window frame going up wasn’t exactly quiet, but at this point, Vance was going in, regardless of whether anyone heard him. After all, he had every right to be here. It wasn’t like he could trespass on communal property, especially a house that was currently unoccupied.
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The office looked almost the same as he remembered, only smaller. The only change was the addition of a computer and wireless modem, which looked incongruous in the room whose furnishings probably hadn’t changed since his father was a child. Vance gave the entire first floor a cursory look, his tension easing as he did so. No signs of recent occupation at all—the fridge was empty, though running, no dirty dishes or personal items anywhere. Someone was obviously keeping up on the housekeeping, but the structure so far had a deserted feel to it. Up or down? The basement might be a logical place to keep someone locked up, so Vance headed in that direction. His relaxed feeling began to dissipate as he approached the door. He’d always hated the dark, damp cellar as a child and had avoided it whenever possible. Come on, let’s get this over with. You’re a big boy now, and Joey is out there waiting. That thought gave him impetus to get past his irrational unease, and he flicked on the light and descended the wooden staircase. The shelves going down the stairs were still occupied by someone’s canning efforts and old boxes, and the door at the bottom still had an old-fashioned latch in place of a door knob. Lifting the latch, he cursed to see that the light bulbs were apparently not working, not because he couldn’t see—his night vision was excellent—but because the ambiance was, well, creepy. Joey and Brady are probably wondering what the hell happened to you, he reminded himself sternly and proceeded to check out every space in the dark basement. Finding nothing unusual, he climbed the stairs, beginning to feel the first tendrils of doubt creep into his mind. Maybe Joey had gotten the location wrong. Or maybe he’s not telling the truth. He was keeping something from you out there. Trying to shrug off his doubts, once voiced, was harder than it should have been. He should have complete faith in his mate. But the niggle wouldn’t go away, and he climbed the stairs to the upper floor preoccupied and, at this point, only half-heartedly looking for evidence in the obviously unused house. The children’s rooms were the same, right down to the bedspreads and curtains. The bathroom, though clean, was stale and bone dry. Walking impatiently into the master bedroom, Vance expected to find more of the same—nothing. Which was why what he saw
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in there rendered him motionless with shock, and he never saw his assailant as the blow to his head knocked him into oblivion. Joey sat where he’d been left, tucked between a wide trunk of an oak tree and the fence line. Tired of waiting and thoroughly spooked by being back at the place he’d only experienced through a haze of drugs and fear, Joey held a mental debate with himself. You don’t know what’s going on in there. Maybe Brady was captured. And now Vance could be in danger. Why would they capture Brady? Or Vance? They’re part of this pride, unlike you. Well, if we’re talking ‘whys’, why would any of this happen? Who the hell kidnaps a gay, dying cougar with no money, family or clan? What’s the point? Good point. And it was a good point. What was he doing sitting out here, when Vance, who had a family and people who loved him, was in there with some homicidal idiots? It wasn’t like Joey had much to lose at this stage in his life. It was only a matter of time before the illness lurking in his body consumed him. Might as well go out a hero. With that, he rose to begin stripping, thinking he might as well shift for the approach. He’d only managed to remove his shirt when a movement out of the corner of his eye had him diving back behind the trunk of the tree. “I gave you too much credit before. You’re obviously not as smart as I thought, or else you’d be long gone by now.” Joey remained frozen as the barrel of a handgun preceded the red-head, Larren the lions had called him, around the oak. “Come on. Back inside.” It was instinctive to obey with a gun waving at you, but the real reason Joey surrendered without a fight was the dwindling hope that Vance and Brady would not get pulled into this mess. Heading confidently towards the house, Larren apparently didn’t know Vance was inside. Joey winced. Or maybe Vance wasn’t a threat anymore. That thought proved to be prophetic as Joey was led upstairs to the room he vaguely remembered being incarcerated in. As he passed into the bedroom, Joey was crushed by the sight of Vance lying on the floor, out cold, while Brady struggled against the ropes binding him to the bed. “I’m sorry,” he sent to Brady, who stopped struggling while he locked gazes with Joey. “That’s right! Joey, they don’t know we can communicate like this. Can you try to stay untied?”
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“Awww, I think he likes you, Joey. Fucking fag,” Larren spit contemptuously. “Ready for a treat, Mr. Alpha Heir? All you have to do is fuck this cute little guy here, and you’re free to go.” Joey struggled to control his expression while every ounce of him wanted to rip the lion’s homophobic head off. But he knew he couldn’t best him one-on-one, especially not with a gun held on him. So instead he tried for a cross between his most inviting look and uncertainty. “That’s all?” he inquired tremulously. “We just have to fuck and you’ll let us go?” Larren sneered at him, shaking his head in disgust. “Not you.” “Do a good job for the camera and we’ll consider letting you go too.” The deep, new voice contradicting Larren came from across the room, and Joey almost gasped as he saw his other kidnapper for the first time without the effect of drugs. This must be the alpha, Garth. The resemblance to Vance was uncanny—it was like seeing Vance twenty-some years in the future. Well, except for the eyes. These were cold and flat, frightening in their lack of feeling, so unlike Vance’s warm and compassionate expression. Amazing, that eyes of the same colour could be so different. “Camera?” he ventured, trying to keep them talking. “All we want is a little home movie of you two.” The big blond shrugged. “You can either have some privacy—other than the camera, of course—or you can perform with a gun just out of the shot. Your choice.” “You promise you’ll let us go afterwards?” Joey was playing his distress to the hilt, adding a little catch in his throat at the end. “I give my word as alpha you’ll both walk out of this room when you’re done.” That left a lot of room for interpretation, and Joey had a feeling if he pressed about whether he’d still be alive the next day, he wouldn’t get such a confident avowal. Larren, meanwhile, was dragging Vance from the room. Only the steady rise and fall of his breathing kept Joey from killing the man. “Okay, camera’s rolling. You know what you need to do to get out of here. And Brady?” Garth warned levelly as stepped out into the hall. “The gun will be on Vance.”
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The door snicked shut and an ominous silence fell. Joey rushed to the bed to untie Brady. “Are you okay, mister?” Silently, he added, “I know he’s your dad, but Garth is a complete psycho.” Brady sat up, rubbing his wrists while Joey worked on his ankles. “I’m fine.”—“And that’s not Garth.”
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Chapter Seven
Vance came up into consciousness slowly, but aware enough to not give his awakening away to the two other men in the hallway. “Larren, go down to the computer and see if they’re fucking yet.” What the hell? Am I losing my mind? “No way, boss, I’m not looking at anything like that. You can rip my eyes out before I’d watch two guys fucking, especially my cousin. That’s just sick. There’s no way…” A sigh. “Fine. I’ll check the computer. You watch this one. And pay attention this time. You almost screwed everything up, letting that cougar get away.” Footsteps walked away then down the stairs, and Vance mentally tracked them into the office. “Guy thinks he’s already running everything. He’s as bad as Garth. Bossy fuckers, both of ‘em.” Larren continued to pace and talk to himself, and Vance reached out to Brady. “Brade. You okay?” “Vance, thank fuck you’re alright. Do they know you’re awake?” “No, just Larren here right now, the other one went downstairs to watch something on the computer.” “Yeah, us. We’re supposed to be making like porn stars.” “We?” “Me and Joey.” Blinding rage and jealousy surged through Vance, and he strained not to move and tip his hand. “Calm down, I’m not going to touch Joey any more than I have to. Can you take out Larren?” Vance fought a snort. “In my sleep. Then I’ll head down to handle the voyeur.” He got a sense of apprehension from Brady. “You know who the other guy is, right?” “I know. I mean, I thought I was going crazy, but I’m not, am I?” “No, you’re not, Brother. Hang in there.” “It’ll be them hanging from my fist in a minute.”
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Vance waited until the movement and muttering was going away from him, and he opened his eyes and silently rose. Larren never knew what hit him. Quickly rendering his cousin unconscious, then binding him with some rope he found—thanks, Larren—Vance took the gun and listened at the top of the stairs before slowly making his way down. His childhood experience here helped him avoid the creaking risers, and he made it to the door of the office without incident. Peering inside, his gaze instantly went to the computer screen and stopped, arrested. Joey and Brady were naked and entwined on the bed in the master bedroom. Although Vance logically knew this was a necessary performance and could see what they were doing was mostly very innocent, apart from the nudity, his lion could not be reasoned with. Roaring inside with jealousy, Vance had to struggle not to go into full shift. Alerted somehow to his presence, the blond at the computer whirled around and stood in one motion. Now, Vance could really see the changes a decade had wrought, having gotten only a brief look earlier before he was knocked out. “Hi, Dad.” “Vance.” The alpha sounded more calm and in control than he should with a gun trained on him. Even as he had that thought, Peter brought his hand up from his side and in turn levelled his own handgun at Vance. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted your cousin to watch you.” He shook his head. “You gave yourself away broadcasting your jealousy. Don’t worry, Brady’s just doing this to stay alive. And if Garth doesn’t kill him when he sees the video, the two of you can run off somewhere when he’s exiled.” “Is that why you kidnapped Joey? To film Brady with a man on camera?” “He’s just a lone cougar.” Peter dismissed. “He has no one to miss him. Then when he’s found dead, he just succumbed to his leukaemia, poor thing. And that’s that. No loose strings.” Leukaemia? Vance shook his head, trying to make sense of the millions of questions circling in his head. “Where have you been? Why are you doing this?” “So Garth really did keep his word,” Peter mused. “Imagine that. I guess my brother really is a stand up guy after all.” He locked gazes with his son, and Vance recoiled at the changed man lurking behind the eyes he remembered as a child of a loving, if distant, father.
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“Garth was easily convinced to exile me rather than kill me. I, in turn, promised to never contact anyone in the pride again if he didn’t let on why I’d suddenly disappeared.” The smile on his father’s face was chilling. “I supposed it was to his benefit as well. Who would want widely known that their own brother tried to kill them?” Vance didn’t know what to think. The hand holding the gun was shaking, and his guts were roiling. Years of believing his father had been wrongfully killed were bulldozed by the reality looming before him. His parent was the complete opposite of everything he had believed. He’d tried to kill Garth. He’d threatened and injured Joey and Brady. And now had no compunction about holding a gun on his own son. All for what? “Power? Vengeance? What?” he couldn’t help but ask. Peter knew what he meant. “The pride should have been mine from the start, but for an accident of birth. Then you were born, and I had hopes you would succeed him and I could guide you in your rule. But you weren’t an alpha.” His father’s voice rose alarmingly. “The fucking image of us, and not an alpha. Then Brady turned out to be the alpha heir. Remember how proud everyone was when he first went into shift and the alpha just rolled off him?” Vance thought back, remembering suddenly that Brady had just been put in the safe house when Peter had gone missing. “Why try to kill Garth at that point?” Peter cocked an eyebrow. “Who better to raise and influence the poor orphan than his loving uncle? The only other alpha in the pride? If you couldn’t be the son I needed, I was going to take Brady.” “Fucking son of a bitch.” Brady’s mental exclamation revealed him to be within hearing distance, and a surreptitious glance at the screen showed a bed with a still form under the covers. Larren being used as a decoy, Vance was guessing, although he hoped it was Joey, safely away from this maniac he’d been sired by. Needing to keep his father’s focus on him and away from the computer, he let a bit of his disgust show. “You can’t influence him now,” he pointed out angrily. “No, but I won’t need to. After his father sees this anonymously sent video—” Peter shook his head wryly. “I know my homophobic brother well. He’ll do my work for me— either flip out and kill his son, or maybe just disown and banish Brady if he catches him on a
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good day. Either way, then I’m just one coup d’etat away from being the only pride alpha. Just as it should always have been.” “I knew I should have killed you, brother.” Vance didn’t know whether to be glad or worried that his uncle had somehow made an appearance. One look revealed Garth to be unarmed, and when Vance saw the gun in Peter’s hand swing towards Garth, finger tightening on the trigger, he forgot to think. Forgot to do anything besides react. He pulled the trigger. There was surprise on his face as Peter staggered back a step, left hand coming up to the blooming redness on his chest while he looked at his son. Out of the corner of his eye, Vance saw movement near Garth, but kept his eyes on his father as Peter dropped to his knees. The surprise turned into a sneer and Vance had only a moment to realise what that meant before Peter turned back towards his brother and got off two shots. Vance’s hand was trembling as he squeezed the trigger and saw the black hole appear in Peter’s forehead, just before the man he’d once loved collapsed to the ground. Turning to his alpha, Vance’s heart stopped. Garth and Brady were both kneeling over Joey’s naked form. Without clothing, it was hideously clear he’d been shot in the chest. Brady, bleeding from his own shoulder, wadded up a piece of clothing and pressed it against Joey’s wound. Garth was yelling in his cell phone for an ambulance, and Brady was calling words of encouragement to Joey, but everything faded to white noise as Vance hit his knees next to his dark-haired mate. “Joey. Baby.” He brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “The ambulance is coming. Hang on, we’re getting you help. Joey, can you hear me?” Joey’s eyes fluttered open and incredibly a wry smile teased at the corners of his mouth. He tensed as if to rise, and Vance gently laid a hand on his chest. “No, don’t move, just relax until the paramedics get here.” “Was gonna go anyway. Least I’m…hero.” Vance’s vision blurred and he spoke over the lump in his throat. “You are a hero, but you’re not going anywhere. You hear me?” Vance panicked as Joey’s eyelids slowly slid closed and his face slackened. “Joey. Joey!” He bent to press his cheek to Joey’s. “Please hang in there. Please. Please.” Gentle hands pulled him away from his mate and he struggled against them. “Joey!”
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Epilogue
“Joey?” Reopening his eyes, he looked at the concerned faces around his hospital bed, reeling from the news. He focused intently on the specialist, Dr. Shakir. “Tell me again?” “Your feline leukaemia is gone. Your counts are all within normal ranges, white, red and platelets. And you’re not just asymptomatic, you have no abnormal cells showing in the samples we’ve taken. It’s just,” the doctor spread her hands wide, “gone.” “But how?” The doctor took a quick look at the door to make sure they had privacy. “It turns out Vance is a type of shifter who can be a universal healer. We tested the blood he donated to you, poured into you, really, and it has properties which successfully fought the abnormal cells while you were recovering from surgery.” The relieved grins on Brady’s and Vance’s faces penetrated his shock. “I’m not sick anymore. Not dying.” “No.” Dr. Shakir smiled. “Now, you are still recovering from the damage from the gunshot, and it will take some time to heal, but barring any complications or infections, you will be good as ever in a few weeks.” “Better than ever,” he corrected with a gleam in his eye as he sent Vance, “Now I have you. My saviour. My hero.” Vance leant down to give him a careful hug. “And saving Garth pretty much ensured I can keep you—in the pride. He might not like it, but he’ll tolerate it for the hero.” “I’m so glad you didn’t have to give up your pride for me.” Brady and Dr. Shakir exchanged a look then smiled and headed to the door to give the couple some privacy. Vance ignored their departure, those intense golden eyes focused solely on him. “I would have given up everything to keep you.” Joey could feel the warmth of that gaze clear down to his soul, as Vance continued, contentment radiating from him, “But I must admit,
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having my pride and Joey is the best of every possible world. And I’m the luckiest guy in any of them.”
About the Author Devon started reading and writing at an early age and never looked back. After a creatively-sapping career in the business world, she gratefully took some time off to be at home. At thirty-nine and holding, Devon finally figured out the best way to channel her midlife crisis was to morph from mild-mannered stay-at-home mom to erotic romance writer. She lives in Oregon with her husband and two girls, who are (mostly) understanding of all the time she spends on her laptop, aka the black hole. Email:
[email protected] Devon loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.
Also by Devon Rhodes Seasoned Women: Sex on Summer Sabbatical Seasoned Women: Falling For the Other Brother Vampires & Mages & Weres, Oh My!: Through the Red Door Gaymes: Rough Riders Homecoming: A Detour Home Voracious Vamps: A Pint Light
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