“Hurry, man. He won’t last much longer.”
Where is he? I asked in my panic.
How the hell I expected him to hear me when he wasn’t one of my pride showed how upset I was. A second later, like he guessed, he pointed in the direction he’d come from. It was the way that led to the main street and right where all the shops were. Great! The newest resident of the town flashing his mane for the world to see. This would be fun… not!
I didn’t care. I took off running, eating up the distance in my lion form, knowing nothing would stop me from finding my mate. There was some kind of commotion behind me and a loud moo that had to be Burke, but my only concern was Tim. I also figured Burke was with the others, so he would be fine.
Taking the next corner at speed, I ignored the pain from the pads of my feet as they scraped on the asphalt. My only focus was reaching my mate. I caught sight of Tim half lying on a seat and half on Crimson, the shop owner. His head was nestled in her breasts and my human got a little pissy. I roared and the couple of cars that hadn’t noticed the great big fucking lion charging toward them slammed on the brakes.
Loud gasps came from those who I passed, followed by the sound of screeching tires. What they thought of a lion pounding the streets, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. None of it mattered as I skidded to a halt in front of Tim and dropped to my knees, shifting at the same time. I winced when they hit the ground and dragged a limp Tim from Crimson’s arms, announcing gruffly, “He’s mine,” for all to hear.
“Why yes, we know, young man. I sent Ricky to get you. Tim needs you—”
“What’s wrong with him?” I demanded, at a loss as to why Tim looked so dreadful after only leaving me half an hour ago looking fine and perky.
At that point, Tim opened his eyes and gave me a wan smile. “Look, lots of lionesses,” he crooned and collapsed against me. “All naked. Do you see that, Crimson?”
“It’s hard to miss, Twirlie,” she said dryly.
“I’m a lion, not a lioness.” Now I was beyond worried. How could my stalk mistake me for a lioness?
“Have you mated properly?” Crimson asked, all firm tone and bristling behavior, like it was her business.
“Of course we have,” I snapped, a little concerned when I wasn’t actually sure what a rhubarb stalk classed as mating, and if any or all of what we’d done was mating. We hadn’t actually had that discussion. I’d heard rumors about how the fingerlings do it, but no one believed they were real. I mean, how could a potato vibrating up your ass be part of a ritual?
Shit, would I need to have Tim’s stalk up my ass? I winced at the thought.
“We… could try that,” he murmured against my neck. “I’d be gentle.”
“Try what?” Crimson asked.
“Stop being nosy,” I said, blushing when my cock decided Tim trying anything on me was a great idea. It clearly didn’t have an issue with Tim fucking me.
A small lion rushed up beside me, a jacket in his mouth, and dumped it at my feet.
At least put this on, he snapped through our pride link before rushing away again.
I struggled into it without disturbing Tim, but it was far too small for me. I might as well have stayed naked. Let’s face it, it was too late to save my dignity. I did my best to use the flap of the jacket to hide my junk, but it was pointless.
“It is my business when he’s one of my stalks!”
“I’m his… pride… now,” Tim whispered, his lips moving to suck on my neck near my scar.
“You are?” The sharpness of Crimson’s voice made my ears ache. “That’s what’s wrong with you, Twirlie. You aren’t my stalk anymore.”
“No, he’s mine,” I reiterated loud enough to make sure they heard three counties over, baring my fangs. “Omega and mate.” I felt an odd satisfaction from Crimson at my declaration.
“Then I can’t heal him. Have you bitten him?” she continued, like I hadn’t said a word.
“Seriously, why is that any of your business?” Had I? In the way she spoke, it kind of inferred it was different to maybe what we did? And we’d done everything and more besides.
Tim, how do you mate?
Tim had closed his eyes. I wasn’t even sure he was conscious. The deafening silence was back in my head and my anxiety levels at having to ask the woman eyeing me like she was about to clout me around the ear didn’t help.
“Do I need to ask again?” Her head tilt and narrow-eyed stare were enough to get me scowling.
“I bit his stalk.” I was positive I’d bitten his stalk more than once, if that’s what she meant.