Fantasy Lynxed [Teeth, Nails and Tails] - Brynn Paulin

[raone453k]

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Bar stroked Summer’s hair, knowing he and Mika had made a huge misstep. As much as their mate had wanted them, claiming her had been too soon, and there would be consequences. Hopefully, it would be nothing they couldn’t quickly work through. Her thoughts were quite vociferous and her beliefs clear. To her, this had been an enjoyable encounter, but just that. A one-time fling in the middle of desolate wilderness. It was unlikely she’d take the mating well. Regardless, she’d said the words, and now, she was fully and truly his and Mika’s. They would not be able to read her thoughts if the mating had not been ordained and if she hadn’t been destined for them. Unfortunately, what was understood to his people was not easily accepted by outsiders. He sensed a fight coming, but even so, they had to tell Summer of the union as soon as possible. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he told her, slipping away from her then arranging her on his pillows. He drew the comforter over her before he headed into the bathroom to dispose of his condom and clean up. Minutes later, he joined Mika in the kitchen. His cluster mate stood at the stove, the teapot in his hand and the burner cold. Mika turned desolate eyes to him. “We fucked up,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.” Bar scrubbed a hand over his face. “Forget the tea. She’s asleep.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his bare chest. He and Mika were accustomed to being naked around one another, so neither man thought to grab clothes before they talked. “We need to figure out what to do,” Mika continued. “In a few days, she’ll want to leave unless the mate bond is strong enough. We can live separate, but I don’t think I can bear it if…” He didn’t finish, but Bar knew. Even if thousands of miles separated them, they’d sometimes hear Summer’s thoughts—especially if she didn’t learn to shield them. They’d feel what she felt, particularly at high emotional times such as if she attempted sex with another man. A knot formed in Bar’s gut, just thinking of the specter of another lover who wasn’t her mate. “Don’t,” Mika sighed, his usual jocular demeanor long gone. “You brought it up.” “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want to picture it in the same detail you are in your head.” He pushed a hand through his already askew hair and padded to the slider to stare up at the mountain that rose behind their home. They both knew a run was out of the question, though they needed it again. Generally, sex would wear them out, but the agitation caused by Summer’s thoughts had stoked their adrenaline, keeping them fully alert and wired. “Maybe, we should go talk to Grandmother,” Bar suggested. The medicine woman lived close to their home. They’d be close enough to return here as soon as they sensed Summer rousing. With a nod, Mika went for the clothes he’d dropped in the living room earlier. Bar did the same.

The bite of coming winter was in the air when they stepped outside minutes later and headed for the medicine woman’s home. To Bar and Mika’s surprise, Aron and Kane, two of the other shifters who’d rescued a woman, were leaving Grandmother’s. They paused as Bar and Mika approached. Aron gave a self-depreciating yet amused grin. “You, as well?” he asked. “At least, we’re not alone in our haste.” “You’ve claimed your woman?” Bar asked, some relief filling him. He and Mika weren’t the only ones who’d rushed forward. “Yes,” Kane grumbled. “But she thinks it was just because she’s convenient. She’s rather hard on herself and won’t believe we truly want her.” “Xathan, Zeb and Vastan are faring no better,” Aron offered. “Their mate claims she will never belong to any man, let alone a group of men. Rather fiery, I hear. She threw a mug at Xathan’s head—and got him, too.” Bar couldn’t help his smile at the image. Xathan was the future leader of their clan. Bar couldn’t imagine he’d docilely take having pottery whipped at him. Even more, Bar was somewhat relieved to find he and Mika weren’t alone in their dilemma. “Be well and good luck,” he told his two friends as they moved away to head to their home. “To you, too. I think we all need it,” Aron replied. Kane nodded. “I hope the gods have a plan other than laughing at us.” Bar couldn’t help chuckling, and Mika jabbed him with an elbow, jerking his head toward the house. When had Mr. Congeniality gotten so grumpy? Bar sighed. He didn’t like Mika being this way. Hopefully, they could get things back to normal quickly—normal with their mate.

The entry to Grandmother’s house was well-lit as they went inside without knocking. There was a bell to summon the medicine woman if she wasn’t in the communal area, but rapping on the door for entry wasn’t required. “I’ll tell you the same as I told the others,” she called from the back, not bothering to ask who it was or look into the receiving area. “Figure it out yourself. You’re all a bunch of hot-headed boys. The lot of you are more recklessly headstrong than any shifters before you.” “Grandmother,” Bar pleaded. She stepped into the room, using her apron to wipe the outside of a jar containing questionable red goo. “No medicine or magic. You have to figure it out yourselves. The gods have answered your prayers—what do you want? A giftwrapped package with a bow? Figure it out like the adults you are.” “But—” “Now git!” she ordered, interrupting Mika. She huffed. “I can’t believe the seven of you. Whine, whine, whine like toddlers!” Bar pursed his lips and scowled, but he refrained from saying a word. Grandmother was in a mood, to be sure. He certainly didn’t want to be turned into a ptarmigan, and he’d heard she was fully capable of that if she were vexed. And since his people tended to eat ptarmigan when in lynx form, that could mean his untimely death—which could, on second thought, solve his problem. Grandmother stared at him with hands on her hips and a brow raised. “Really?” she asked, reminding him that she could read the thoughts of all their people. “You believe that would be a viable solution? You are a dunderhead, aren’t you?”

“No, Grandmother,” he muttered. “Hmph,” was her only reply then without a goodbye or any dismissal, she went back to her inner sanctum and slammed the door behind her. Mika shoved him. “Nice work, genius.” “Excuse me?” Bar glowered at him, bristling as he loomed and reminded Mika who the dominant was in their group. Rather than back down, Mika rolled his eyes and stomped from the house. He didn’t pause as he marched down the street toward his parents’ home. And Bar knew from his cluster mate’s demeanor he wouldn’t be welcome. He stood scowling in the street; his arms crossed. His parents had passed away years ago, so he couldn’t go there, and his brother was out, flying the air-taxi. Bar huffed. He didn’t want to go home either. Not yet. He eyed the bar down the street. He’d taken one step that direction when an irate voice stopped him. “Bar Ra! I told you to go home!” He looked up to find Grandmother in her doorway, her face dire as if she really might change him into an arctic bird. He blew out a breath through his nose and turned on his heel to march home—only he knew he was stomping, just like the child she’d accused him of being.