A Lion's Heart Read Free Page B

forced his ears up, and ran after him.
    They slowed to a walk after a short time, the werelion staying ahead and panting. Shakra paced behind with his head down in shame. His pride had taken a blow and he wondered if he would ever recover from it. The strong, brave Prince had offered ransom for his life to mountain weres. He had cowered and almost wet himself in fear of a scrawny werelion, a creature who could barely put one paw in front of the other. Remembering his assurances to Shang that he could take care of himself, and how Shang had felt confident enough in his abilities to let him go, Shakra wondered if he could ever face the werelizard again. It was hard enough facing himself.
    “Go,” the werelion said without looking back at him.
    “Where are you going?” Shakra wondered. “If you’re going home, you're going in the wrong direction.”
    The werelion stopped. With an expression of anguish, he looked back the way they had come.
    Shakra wondered, “Can't you tell where your home is?”
    The werelion’s silver eyes narrowed at him angrily.
    Shakra had a sense of smell that was as good as any map. Every scent told him where he was in his world. The scent of jasmine and wood smoke told him where his home was. The smell of fern and mushrooms told him the path to the next city. If he concentrated hard, he could even catch on the breeze a very faint echo of the brown grass scent that still clung to the hairs of the werelion. He guessed that it was the scent of the Savannah.
    The werelion turned and began walking back. He snarled in warning as he passed Shakra.
    Shakra started to follow, but then barely avoided a slash of the werelion's claws. They faced off. Shakra told him, “My home is that way too. Where else do you expect me to go with mountain weres after me? You frightened them, but it won't be long before they get over that and come back.”
    The werelion stared at him, panting. It was clear that he didn't want to go back to the place where he had just escaped and it was very clear that he didn't trust Shakra. Shakra lowered his head, looking at the werelion in what he hoped was an understandable sign of friendship.
    “I freed you when I didn't have anything to gain,” Shakra reminded him. “I didn't ask you to pay me back by saving my life. I didn't make a bargain. I just... I don't like to see anyone suffer. They were treating you as if you were a full blooded lion, as if you didn't have a mind or a voice. That's wrong.”
    The silver eyes didn't soften with sudden trust. They hardened with skepticism. When the werelion turned and began walking again, though, he didn't slash at Shakra when he followed.
    The werelion was beautiful, despite the dirt and the fleas, Shakra thought as he followed the creature. Flowing muscles under thick fur, legs that were long and springing, hair on his head that was brown and tinted with streaks of fire from the sun, and those eyes... Shakra found himself following the swing of the werelion's tail, trying to see the tantalizing hint of maleness buried in the thicker fur underneath it.
    Shakra felt a hot flush. He had liked baiting Shang, insinuating that he wasn't going to mate with females, but it was the first time that Shakra began to wonder if his teasing didn't have some truth to it. He'd never been tempted to look under a female’s tail.
    Shang, he thought, would not only have his hide for thinking such things in a dangerous situation, but he himself should be volunteering for one of Shang's patented training sessions from hell. Not one decision that he had made that day had been a good one. If he continued on in that vein for the rest of the day he'd be dead for certain by sundown.
    “You're all alone,” Shakra said.
    Rounded ears cocked back at him and then flicked in annoyance.
    “There's nothing like you in this land,” Shakra continued. “You can't blend in. You can't hide if those werecheetahs decide to take you again.” He licked lips nervously and then