Lion Conquers All by Krystal Shannan

17

AARAV

Hour after hour the volunteers had come back to the Community Center with no news. No traces of campsites. No trails.

The first winter storm had settled over the mountain and the town and was pouring snow and wind all over everything. If there had been a trail. It was gone now.

Anchorage SAR had told everyone to go home. No one would be sent out again until sunrise and that was only if the storm had ended.

Connie hadn’t left. Even after the parents of both missing kids finally accepted the night as a failure and left to go home and attempt to sleep, she still didn’t budge. She knew he and Col were still waiting on word from Ryder, but it was almost 3am and she was nearly asleep on her feet.

“Let me drive you home.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes slightly glazed over with exhaustion. “Those kids…” Tears pooled in her beautiful brown eyes. “How are we going to find them now?”

He opened his arms and she fell against his chest. “We will. I don’t know yet, but we won’t stop until we do. Let me take you home. Everything will look better after a few hours of sleep.”

She nodded against his chest.

“I’m going to pick you up, shuarra.”

He waited a few extra seconds to give her time to object.

She didn’t. And he swept her up and carried her toward the front. He told the SAR people he’d be back at dawn. Most of them were turning in for the night too. A few were still working over the maps, getting ready for grid searching if the weather allowed tomorrow.

He turned backward, using his back to push open the front door. The bite of the wind was harsh. Connie flinched in his arms, tucking her face tighter against his jacket.

A minute later he had her in his patrol car.

Visibility was zero. The car was buried. He turned over the engine, but the tires grabbed nothing when he pressed down on the gas slowly. “Dalmeck.”

A tiny giggle came from his passenger. “Fuck would be better here.”

A grin slowly spread across his face, helping to wash away some of the worry and tension that’d built up over the day. “You’re right. Fuck would be better here.”

“I can make you up a cot downstairs.”

She shook her head. The joviality of her mood ceased immediately, leaving the space between them empty. “I wouldn’t handle that well. My house isn’t far. I can—” She paused and stared out the windshield at the swirling snow. Anyone who’d lived here at least one winter knew walking in a storm like this was stupid. The SAR had finished spending hours drilling that into volunteers. Don’t go off the roads. Don’t go up the mountain. Don’t create another victim we have to find.

“The roads are buried. This storm dumped snow when it hit. You can’t walk.”

“I can’t stay here. I can’t. What about Dawn and Tor’s place. I could get that far.”

“Connie.” He said her name the way he wanted to reach out and hug her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now. “It’s too far.”

“I was stupid. I should’ve left before this hit so bad. I wasn’t paying attention. I can’t do this.” Hysteria was creeping into her tone, now. Panic. Desperation.

“Don’t you trust me to keep you safe?”

“I don’t trust anyone, Aarav, especially when I’m asleep. You don’t understand. I have PTSD. I have to be alone and secure.”

Her words hurt, but he reached past those feelings and grieved with her. Her emotions weren’t about him. He had no right to take her rejection personally. She wasn’t scared of him. She was just scared. So scared the thought of spending the night in the bunker with him was going to bring on a panic attack. He could smell her adrenaline ramping up already.

“I could get you to your house.”

“How?” She whirled to face him in the car, hope and fear mixing in her gaze like a potent cocktail ready to burst into flames.

“You know how.” It was dark. No one was around. The snow made visibility almost zero. If he shifted, there was almost no chance of anyone seeing him. Even right in the middle of town.

“You can’t do that. What if someone saw you?”

“Connie, look around. No one is going to see anything. We can’t even see the front door of the MCC and we’re in the parking lot in one of the closest front spaces.”

She turned away from him and tried to look through the window. Then turned back to him. “I—are you sure?”

“I am quite sure. But it does my heart good to have you so worried about my well-being.” He got out of the car, into the blinding wind and snow and made his way around the hood to her door and opened it.

“Keep hold of the car,” he said, raising his voice to a shout above the wind. “I need you to not be afraid of my lion. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded.

Aarav took a couple steps back to give his beast room to shift. Even that much space would’ve made it difficult to see her and the car, if she didn’t have the soul glow lighting her up like she was covered in bioluminescent paint.

Snow piled around his feet. The wheels of his patrol car were almost completely covered by drifts.

He bent down and called up his beast in the same breath. His paws struck the cold snowy fluff and he shook his mane. It’d been so long. It was good to stretch. So good.

“Fuck, you’re huge!”

His lion chuffed, amused by her statement. He was indeed much larger than she probably expected him to be. Lions on earth were small in comparison to his animal. He was longer than the patrol car and his shoulders stood higher than the roof of it.

He knelt down, giving her access to his shoulders.

“I can walk next to you. Grab some of your mane or something.” She took a step closer and touched him. Her fingers stroked through his fur and it was bliss. “You’re soft. I didn’t think your fur would be this soft, but I guess most cats have soft fur.”

Aarav chuffed again and pushed his shoulder against her hip.

“I can’t ride you. You’re not a horse.”

He pushed again. Stubborn woman.

She looked around. At nothing. It was swirling blackness all around them.

Mate.His beast purred and leaned against her again.

Sneaky lion.

It worked though. She leaned forward almost immediately, putting her cheek against his back and soaking up the vibrations. It was the one part of the soul call she seemed not to be able to ignore. She craved the connection as much as he did, she just didn’t recognize it for what it was.

He nudged her hip again, wriggling his body to try and force her leg up and over his back.

“Okay. Okay.” She clambered up, laying her body over his shoulders, and dug her fingers deep into his mane. She wrapped her legs around his sides and melted against him. “I’m good. I think.”

His lion never stopped purring.

He walked carefully through the parking lot, getting his bearings every so often, and followed the edge of the road. He moved slowly and methodically, counting street signs as he found them and buildings. He knew the way to her house by heart, but being in this storm was like walking blind. He needed to be careful or they could end up wandering the wrong way for hours and she wasn’t dressed to be in this weather for that long.

It took at least a half hour, but he made it to her porch. He breathed a deep sigh of relief and knelt again so climbing down wouldn’t be such a jolt. She slipped off into the snow and he shifted immediately, rising to stand next to her.

He followed her up to the front door.

She stood there, her hand with the key in the lock and didn’t move. He listened to her breathe in and out. Deep slow breaths like she was calming herself.

This was a huge step for her. And it had to be her. He didn’t want to ask her make this step for him. He stayed perfectly silent. Perfectly still.

You can do this. You can trust me.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally turned the key and walked inside. And she didn’t close it on him.

He’d never been inside her house. Not once.

He stepped over the threshold and closed and locked the door. She flipped on a floor lamp, and disappeared into the shadows. There was a wood stove across the room that needed to be lit. He crossed to it and began that process. Her house was cold. He could fix that.

He took a few pieces of small kindling from the basket against the wall. Made a little pile inside and then struck a match. The kindling lit immediately. He fed the flames a few tiny twigs and sticks. Then a small dry square of wood. The flames were catching well. He added a couple of smaller logs and waited for those to catch before closing the stove. It would need a bigger log in a few minutes.

“Thank you.”

He turned to face her. She was standing in the shadows of the hallway, wrapped in a blanket.

He stood. “It should start to warm up in here soon. I’ll put another log in after a bit.”

“You’re lion was…I’ve never seen anything so big. I didn’t realize how different you were from an actual lion.”

“You weren’t wrong to warn us to be more careful. We do not blend in well.”

“You have tusks.”

He chuckled from deep in his belly. “Yes.”

“Like a prehistoric lion.”

“Mmmmhmmm. Naomi has shown us pictures. My kind are much more similar to those ancient cats than the ones you call lions presently.” He didn’t move from the stove. He didn’t want to spook her. He was inside her house. She was speaking to him. They were alone. She’d let him carry her home on his back. His lion’s back.

There had been so many firsts tonight. So many firsts today.

He worried that if he moved the changes would evaporate. Her panic would overtake her once again and he would be pushed away, dismissed until she felt brave again.

She emerged from the shadows, crossed the room to him, and put her arms around his chest, enveloping his body in the blanket she was wearing like a cape. “Thank you. I didn’t want you to risk exposure for me tonight, but thank you for getting me home. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep had I stayed.”

“You’re very welcome, shuarra.” The words caught in his throat. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. When would he get another chance to be this close? Would she allow it more often? Or was today an anomaly created by the crisis of the missing children and the storm?

She pulled away a little and looked up at him. Their faces were so close, he could feel her breath on his skin. Her heart was racing in her chest like a caribou fleeing his beast. And still she stood her ground. She didn’t budge. She stared up at him and into his eyes like she was looking straight into his soul.

And he let her. He would let her look her fill forever.

Whatever she wanted.

Whatever she needed from him.

He would give.