Lynx Northern Shifters 3

at deep, dark secrets that his underlings weren’t privy to. Leonard slowly said, “All right.”
“Don’t remember anything,” Trey added for good measure.
With that, Leonard jerked a nod and fled. While the human wouldn’t have Trey’s sensitive nose, which was overwhelmed by the stench of death and blood, Leonard quite clearly had cottoned on to the fact someone had been killed. Thank God he didn’t want to know more.
Trey waited for the motor to start, for the vehicle to drive away, before he stepped into the cell, into what had been Jonah’s prison for fuck knows how long. Months? Years?
The first thing he saw was Horton’s body. He’d bled out on the floor beside a bed, neck torn. No surprise there, given that before he’d lost the connection, he’d seen Jonah lunge for Horton’s throat.
Where the hell was the lynx?
“Jonah?” he said quietly. No reply and Trey wondered if Jonah was so lost in his bloodlust he didn’t recognize him. Being captive would wreak havoc with a shifter’s sanity. Trey breathed in, smelled the lynx beneath the stench of death, and walked towards the dead body. He crouched down and came face to face with Jonah, green eyes glowing in the dim light under the bed.
Jonah spat-hissed, teeth bared, before he launched himself from under the bed. It wasn’t in Trey to defend himself, the guilt was that strong, though he stiffened in reaction to the lynx’s movement.
Fur flashed by him as Jonah scrambled out the first door, the second door, and fled into the open field.
Fuck. Trey had been too focused on himself, too convinced Jonah had lost it and would attack him, when of course what he wanted was the freedom he’d been deprived of.
There was no point yelling. As he stripped off his clothing while striding outside, Trey pushed himself towards the shift. He fell as his wolf rose to the surface, desperate to turn wolf and chase down Jonah.
It had been three and a half years since he’d seen his mate, and he was not going to lose track of him now. Trey’s world turned dark as he welcomed his wolf taking over.
    The important thing was to move. He’d moved so little for so long that he needed to run. Without stopping, without thinking. There was a place he was aiming for like an arrow. He could feel it within him, but didn’t think, just headed for home where he might be safe again.
    He hadn’t been safe for a very long time.
His body was weak, he acknowledged that, even as he refused to slow down. He pushed through the daylight and into the night. It had been months since he’d been out at night, and while he didn’t have the time or energy to take in all the smells, sounds and sights, he nevertheless embraced everything about this night of freedom.
He didn’t think it would last.
Something was chasing him. A predator. He too was a predator, and he had recently killed. But he was weak now and it was only within him to run, not stand and fight.
Night bled away as day invaded the sky, and still he ran, recognizing that it was almost over. He’d hoped to shake the predator, but he’d failed. His body was failing. He realized he hadn’t been thinking clearly, that the first thing he’d required was food, especially after a shift. Instead he had rejected the body of his kill for reasons he did not want to consider, and he had not taken the time to hunt wild prey in these woods.
He worked to put as much distance as possible between himself and the cement room where he’d been held. Imprisoned. He didn’t want to be near that prison when he died.
The predator was almost upon him, and Jonah stopped in a small field, whirled, and braced himself for the final attack.
A wolf barreled into the open where Jonah was taking a stand, and his world began to spin. He recognized this wolf, from long ago. He’d been stalked by this wolf before, then befriended.
Right now, the lynx didn’t deal in friendship. He wanted to turn, run again, because it wasn’t in him to attack or defend. But all his resources drained away and he couldn’t move. He stayed rooted to the spot, his back arching, his fur standing straight up in display.
He wanted the wolf to back off .
At his second hiss, the wolf whined, which had Jonah’s human asking questions he did not want asked. The wolf, Trey , of course he knew his name, whined and dropped to his belly, ears back. A submissive pose and Trey was not submissive, ever. Jonah couldn’t process this. His body began to shake. He balked at the idea