Lynx Northern Shifters 3

man who, today, needed his company. Trey stayed by the cot and waited until Jonah’s breathing changed to indicate he’d fallen asleep.
Then he circled around and lay down on the rug.
He slept lightly that night, waiting till near the end of Jonah’s last deep-sleep cycle. As it started, Trey rose to see Jonah’s face crease in pain again, as it had when he’d mentioned his dead brother, and Trey wanted to offer solace.
Now wasn’t the time. He considered staying longer in wolf form, but two things concerned him. Jonah’s loneliness, it was too strong to be healthy.
Also these confidences of Jonah’s probably wouldn’t have been voiced to a man he’d met twenty-four hours ago. If Trey remained Enigma longer and Jonah revealed more about himself, he might feel deceived, tricked, betrayed.
And Trey didn’t want to sabotage what might be a difficult relationship with more of those one-sided confidences.
So he walked to the far side of the room, lay down and let go of his body. The world, already black since the fire had died, turned blacker as he bent his mind towards the shift, bending his body too when pain and oblivion overwhelmed him and he came close to passing out. Fur receded, bone and muscle stretched or contracted, and Trey bit back on a groan as he went under.
He woke heated by the shift. His alarm threatened to spike while he grimly tamped it down. Assess the danger . He rolled from his side onto his stomach and pushed up on all fours, being careful to stay silent in this strange place. As the idea that he’d been somehow kidnapped began to form, memory pushed itself forward and he recalled that he’d chosen to enter the house of…a lynx.
Trey shook his head and sat back on his haunches, letting the events of the past two days rush through him: Jonah, blizzard, cave.
It amazed him anew that he’d found a shapeshifting lynx, and a giant one at that. How incredibly rare.
This one had to be protected. At all costs.
Trey listened, intent on hearing Jonah whose breaths still indicated sleep, though perhaps not as deep as before. Trey walked silently to the wardrobe. At the very least he needed to pull on some pants. Jonah was only an inch or two shorter than him, and something in this wardrobe would fit Trey well enough. The clothing would offer some modesty, which might help with Jonah’s coming shock and give Trey some warmth after the initial flush of heat from shifting receded.
Trey pulled on long underwear that didn’t reach his ankles. Then he shrugged on Jonah’s jacket. In a basket he found socks—one of those expensive wool blends. Necessary on the now-frigid floor.
As a precaution, Trey returned to the main area and hid the knife Jonah had left by the fire. If the lynx panicked, Trey would rather they didn’t end up grappling with that sharp blade.
He sat on a bench near the dead fire, facing Jonah’s cot, and waited for the lynx to wake.
The sleeping Jonah sensed something was off and he stirred, frowning, pulling in a breath, trying to smell what was wrong. While he fought his way to consciousness, Trey worked to project calm.
Jonah rolled from his back onto his side to face Trey. Slowly he raised his eyelids, his gaze not yet focused.
He blinked, slight puzzlement only, because he wasn’t yet awake. Then he closed his eyes again, stiffened, and his eyes flew open. Jonah flinched in fear. Not good.
“Hello,” Trey offered. At first Jonah seemed paralyzed and though Trey wasn’t used to doling out apologies, he thought one was owed here. “I’m sorry to startle—”
Jonah leapt out of the sleeping bag, almost tripping as he extracted his legs, and then he was off the cot and into the corner beside it. He grabbed a piece of wood, and Trey, smelling a wave of terror flowing off him, thought, shit . He lifted his hands in surrender, palms out. “It’s okay—”
Jonah threw the wood. Ducking, Trey shouted, “Jonah!” and that stayed Jonah’s hand though he’d already picked up his next piece of wood. He remained silent, jaw clenched. His gaze darted about, probably looking for his knife.
Trey rose, backing up to give Jonah space. “I’m a friend.” He kept the words as steady as possible. Someone human had hurt the lynx.
“Get. Out.” The words were close to growls, low and terse to mask the fact that Jonah’s voice shook. Trey breathed in anger, and fear.
Jonah threw the second piece of wood and Trey caught it easily. “Jonah, think .”
He cowered. Okay, wrong