Lynx Northern Shifters 3

lip curled at the word.
“I’m sorry I woke you.”
“What were you doing?”
Trey let his backpack drop to the ground. “When?”
“What did you spend a month and a half doing?”
Trey’s mouth thinned and his tone turned flat, brittle. Jonah didn’t recall Trey being brittle. “I helped rescue a boy from my brother. I killed two werewolves, but I didn’t manage to kill my brother.”
His brother, the unstable killer. The mere mention of Gabriel’s name had always wounded Trey. Suddenly Jonah no longer wanted to argue with Trey, and brother-killing was a topic he had no desire to explore. “Is the boy all right?”
“He will be. He’s with his brother, who is responsible and sane.”
“I’m glad.”
“Don’t get out of bed, it’s too cold,” Trey said quickly.
Jonah nevertheless went to the back room and got Trey some bedding, returned to throw it on Trey’s cot and dived into his warm sleeping bag.
“Thank you, Jonah.”
“I’m going back to sleep.” He didn’t actually know if he would, but his anger had morphed into something like confusion, simply because of this boy Trey had rescued. Jonah had been inwardly sneering at Trey’s self-importance and how Trey used it as an excuse for letting Jonah down. But Trey had helped a young boy, rescued him, and it had been painful for Trey because Gabriel was involved.
The idea that he was somehow softening in his feelings for Trey was too unsettling to contemplate. Jonah didn’t want to admire Trey. Admiration led to other feelings and he couldn’t afford to depend on Trey again, in any way. No matter how worthy Trey’s deeds or how important his actions.
Once Trey was settled in his own cot, he announced, “I’m glad to be back,” in a voice that sounded entirely satisfied at having returned. As though coming here gave Trey a sense of coming home. Was that possible?
It gave Jonah pause, that his grudging acceptance of Trey’s presence should make Trey feel welcome. He would have thought Trey had others who appreciated him more. Who welcomed him home instead of demanding to know why he’d come back. Who greeted him with a smile instead of wiping the smile off Trey’s face.
Surely Trey had more than Jonah in this world.
“Jonah?”
“What?” he replied, alarmed by how disconcerted he felt.
“You been okay?”
What was that supposed to mean? Probably didn’t seem like the right answer. “Sure.” He tried to mean it. It wasn’t too far off the mark.
“Good. I hated coming here after you disappeared and I didn’t know where you were. It feels”—Trey huffed out a breath Jonah could hear in the dark—“right that you’re here.”
Jonah rolled his eyes, in vain, because he was moved by Trey’s statement when he didn’t want to be. In response he pretended he’d fallen back to sleep. Not that Trey would be fooled, but he lapsed into silence too. They both lay awake for quite a while. Jonah wondered if he’d stay awake all night long, but at some point he dropped off into a dream.
In the dream, he was different, his old self, and he yearned for contact, as he had all those years ago. This time he was alone but not alone. He kept reaching for Trey, again and again. Despite the fact Jonah stood right beside Trey, he couldn’t actually touch him. Each time he tried, everything turned to mist. Dissolved. Until Trey gave up and went away.
    At least Jonah had gained some weight. Not enough, but nevertheless a step in the right direction. And maybe it was wishful thinking more than real observation, but Jonah seemed less jumpy and angry than he’d been when Trey had left a month and a half ago. The lynx might have needed some time to himself.
    The idea that Jonah did better without Trey around did not sit well. Because Trey wanted to be with Jonah all the time. It figured. Trey had spent decades cultivating his lone-wolf lifestyle and it had come to this—feeling that Jonah was his mate and wanting to be with him.
    Trey could imagine how well such a declaration to Jonah would go down. With Jonah’s current mood, his reaction would be along the lines of snarling, What the fuck are you talking about?
So he decided to keep to more mundane topics of conversation.
“Sleep well?” he asked a tousled Jonah who sat up on his cot.
“Sure.” Jonah didn’t really want to be talking to him since his return. Most mornings, silence lay between them. But for whatever reason, today Trey couldn’t keep quiet. Maybe it was the sunshine