Lynx Northern Shifters 3

chest tightened, thinking of returning to his job and all that entailed.
On the other hand, he was trying to help the lynx lead a healthier life, and that probably involved some discussion of normal shifter urges and reactions. Clearly Jonah had no clue what was normal or not, had no context, being on his own like this. Jonah had been trying to hide his reaction to Trey, and continued to do so.
He was damned tempted to go after Jonah, force him back here and give him a lecture, as uncomfortable as that would be. But no—better to let Jonah calm down, let Jonah come banging into the house well past dark no worse for wear, if a little cold and hungry.
So Trey rummaged through supplies to make a supper of split-pea soup. He’d wanted bread, but found only flour, no yeast.
When the evening wind blew Jonah back inside, he saw what Trey had done for dinner and promptly seized upon the opportunity to explain about flatbreads and pans and fires. Small talk was welcomed by them both, and they got to work making yeast-free dough. Together they baked fire-cooked flatbreads and ate them with the soup. By the time the fire died down, Jonah was looking completely drained, as if he’d been through a very rough experience. He was listing to the right.
Tomorrow, Trey decided, they needed to talk, about being a shifter, about surviving alone, and maybe learning how to mix a bit with humans. He had less than a week now so there was no more putting it off. And there was no one else to do it for him. Trey did not intend to introduce wolves to Jonah’s Canadian Shield sanctuary and while Trey wanted to return, he didn’t know when he would be able to.
“All right,” said Trey the next day in a way that made Jonah feel doomed.
    Or maybe the words seemed portentous because Jonah had spent a hellish night lying awake, too wound up to sleep and worried that if he did, he’d have a wet dream with Trey in the same room. Gawd, he and his body’s urges were making himself sick.
    “You’re looking a little peaked,” Trey observed.
“I’m fine.” He could barely force his breakfast down, and he was going to have to get out of here, away from Trey again. Jonah had never seen such a dubious expression on Trey’s face. He tried harder to pass off his bizarre behavior. “I’m tired, that’s all. Didn’t sleep all that well.”
“Any reason why not?”
“No.” He hunched at the tone of that no , which sounded surly, like he was twelve years old. But God, he wasn’t prepared to explain why. He had no ability to handle this gracefully.
“I think we need to have a talk.”
Jonah’s head shot up, and he stared at Trey, heart beginning to pound hard, worried that somehow Trey could read his mind.
“Because,” Trey continued, “I’ll be gone in a week, and you’ll still be here. On your own.”
Jonah had been studiously ignoring anything to do with the fact Trey might be departing. He didn’t see what he could do about it and he didn’t want to think about it. But he said, “Okay.” It came out hoarser than he would have liked.
“So, I thought we should talk about strategies that could make you a little more comfortable with your life.”
Jonah nodded. What the fuck was he supposed to say? There was silence, Jonah stared at his fists. Maybe it would be better when Trey was gone. At least he’d get away from this stupid tension gripping him.
“All right.” Jonah pulled in a breath and met Trey’s too-sharp gaze. “But I don’t see what I can say about you leaving.”
“This isn’t about my leaving, it’s about you.” Trey pulled up the bench so he faced Jonah sitting on the cot, their knees close but not touching. “First off, I’d like to come back here.”
“When?” Jonah said too quickly.
But Trey didn’t smile at his eagerness or his, let’s face it, desperation. In fact he looked more serious. “That’s the problem. I don’t know when. It could be months, it could be more than a year. Longer, if I’m unlucky.”
When Jonah didn’t respond—his heart was sinking over that amount of time, even if a part of him was gratified that Trey wanted to come back—Trey reached over, wrapped a hand around Jonah’s knee and gave it a shake, as if he was encouraging Jonah. He felt the warmth of Trey’s palm through his long johns. He had kept on a long flannel shirt to hide any unwanted reaction to Trey, which was, God help him, starting again.
“Jonah, I’d like you to actually tell me a little about