Levi Read Free

three sizes too small.
    That hadn’t been the push that had sent him running, though. No, that impetus had come shortly thereafter when he’d got off work, tired from a particularly rotten day with unhappy clients and unhappier bosses. All he’d wanted to do was collapse into his bed, but was stopped by the pungent odour in his apartment. Virtually everything he’d owned reeked of another cougar marking his territory. Lyndon had been freaked, not recognising the scent of the warning left behind. He knew what it was, but not who had left it. It hadn’t been his father who had made him run this last time. His attempt to make a home for himself had already been a failure, but the invasion compounded with it and made staying an unbearable thing for Lyndon to do.
    Lyndon had quit his job at the advertising firm he’d worked for in Dallas, not bothering to give notice once his boss snarkily told him it wasn’t necessary. Then he’d set about selling everything he couldn’t take with him in a duffle, which was most of what he owned. The pervasive feeling of being watched had been disturbing, and Lyndon had got the feeling his time was running out.
    He hadn’t cared enough to stay and fight—fight who, and for what? So instead Lyndon had left. Ever since then, he’d been searching for—he didn’t know what, but hoping he’d recognise it when he found it, and trying to escape the sensation of being scrutinised.
    That warm, tingling sensation tickling his spine made him think that maybe, this time, he had escaped as he looked at the magnificent trees. After glancing around to make sure no one was around to notice him, Lyndon cleared a fence then dashed into the dense foliage. He stood there for several minutes, observing, scenting, listening.
    Once he was assured it was safe, Lyndon stripped down and tucked his clothes and pack into a cluster of branches. He then spread out on the rough, cool ground and rolled, saturating himself in the smell of the land. Eventually he shifted and saw the forest through sharper eyes, smelt it through a more sensitive nose. His ears twitched at the sounds of prey skittering in the distance.
    Lyndon growled softly, the vibrations from the noise rushing down his chest. He flicked his tail as he considered which prey to hunt. He needed a challenge despite the ache in his belly. Tipping his head, he drew the scents deeply into his lungs. Deer , his cat yowled, and Lyndon had to agree. As a cougar, he followed the animal’s urges to a degree, and a deer would provide a feast for now and more meals for later—if nothing else dug up the remains once Lyndon buried them. That was the cougar’s way, and Lyndon had accepted that part of himself the day he’d left Dallas. He’d had to in order to survive. There was no room for a queasy stomach in his current lifestyle.
    The trail the deer left behind was tricky, and Lyndon seriously considered going after a rabbit instead, or any available meal. It had been two days since he’d eaten anything more substantial than an energy bar, and his belly was letting him know how displeased it was about that.
    Lyndon finally spotted the deer, a lovely doe. She had a healthy build, and Lyndon was contemplating his fine dinner when the doe’s head jerked up and she gave a frightened sound. She bolted, running off in a panic. Lyndon started to follow until it occurred to him something had scared the deer, and it hadn’t been him. He’d been silent as death stalking his prey, and had been careful to remain downwind. What had spooked the stuffing out of his dinner?
    The answer came on the breeze, a pungent scent of cat, different from his own. Not a cougar then, but what the hell else would be out here? Lyndon racked his brain until a subtle variation in the odour became detectable. Man and beast, combined, and the smell went straight to Lyndon’s groin so rapidly it stole his breath. Lyndon huffed and sat back on his haunches, stunned by this new occurrence.