Levi heard Rosetta’s voice in his ear and tried to ignore it, licking up the length of Rocket and glancing over at Babier for approval.  The king was lounging in a hammock with Zinnie curled up, fast asleep and breathing deeply, on his chest.  He smiled faintly and stroked the back of the petite lioness’s neck, seeming to approve of the display.  Rocket made an impatient sound and wrapped his legs around Levi’s upper back, pulling him in with a fair degree of force.

The two tarps set under the day-tent were not enough to actually cushion his knees as they took this added weight and strain, though Levi was careful not to show any hint of discomfort.  His king liked the pride to be happy and comfortable; any other state required remediation.  

A shadow fell and Levi glanced up, Rocket’s corona caught lightly between his incisors as he played with the two piercings at the man’s base.  Babier gestured silently for them to rise and Levi knew the gig was up.  Cautiously, he released Rocket, kissed the meatus with tender lips, and stood.  Rocket, for his part, rolled to his feet and worked his button-fly, becoming properly modest in a matter of seconds.

Settled about the three campsites, the rest of the women sprawled in their hammocks, some three to a perch and some hogging giant spreads all to themselves.  They were rousing and fell into place just behind the king, ready to do battle if such was needful.  Andes emerged from the back of his RV and fell in just behind Babier, his body rippling somewhat as he readied himself for a full on display on Babier’s mark.  All eight, Levi included, ranged themselves in a loose crescent as Benji stretched and Kitten and Chamomile moved to fall in with the rest of the lionesses.  

Benji seemed to realize too late that he’d been left with the job of introductions and Levi tried not to feel worried on behalf of his brother.  This den had accepted them both and this wasn’t a terribly stressful situation.  Levi still bit his lip as his twin gently offered his hand to the new girl and brought her forward a little.

She looked right busty with a figure that curved in at the center and out again at the waist before folding into some well-stretched legs.  Her hair was a ruddy blonde, her eyes were a surprising shade of forest green, and her fingers long and gracefully sculpted.  In her bathrobe, Levi could imagine his king unwrapping her and letting his approval waft up as his eyes wandered down.

Instead, Babier shrugged noncommittally and turned to leave.  He liked her -- that much was obvious from his scent -- but he was inclined to let the rest of the den decide.  Andes followed him, as did Rocket and Benji, abandoning the poor girl to stare with almost open horror at the six females that remained.  Chamomile came back and butted the top of her head and then her full face and neck against the newbie.  This initiated a cascading effect as Rosetta and Zinnie jumped to the fore, ready to take on another potential miscreant, and then Kitten lead Dhalia and Sasha in the final introductions.  The ladies began talking all at once, explaining who usually slept in which RV and where she could sleep if she wanted and asking her just about every possible question imaginable.  

Levi turned away and left the ladies to their games before hearing a slight thumping sound from the back of the van, as though someone had figured out the vehicle was empty and the moment of escape was neigh.  Sighing, he put his designated finger to the back of his wrist and reminded his king about the loose end in the back of the vehicle.  The response gave him leave to take care of the problem and he signaled to Dahlia.  She dropped out of the reception party and crossed the yard, heard the same sound, and got behind the steering wheel while Levi climbed inside the car.

...

Zinnie grinned, happy to be perched on Babier’s lap with his hand under her skirt as she twisted a stick with a marshmallow at its tip over the embers.  She’d spent all afternoon asking the new girl what it had been like to grow up with parents that didn’t love her and had quite a few wild theories to throw about.  Babier moved his fingers in a caress and she felt her body respond, her abdomen flexing in an almost undulating pattern as her legs steadied her on his lap.

How Kitten and Sasha managed to resist was truly beyond her, though she didn’t mind the extra attention their absence allowed.  Across the fire, Rocket and Chamomile were, as Rosetta put it, canoodling.  Everyone else had retired to the various RV’s to sleep and relax.  Even Levi and Benji had wandered off, which meant, with Rocket fully occupied, that the king was hers and hers alone to enjoy.  

Behind and beneath her, Babier spoke softly, putting one heavy boot on a rock by the fire.  “So what are the thoughts on the new one?  We keeping her or sending her off?”

Rocket put both arms around Chamomile and nuzzled her with the side of his cheek, reassuring her that all was well.  She sat up a little straighter, seeming just a touch more confident.  Zinnie grinned at the strange male and rotated her marshmallow just before it caught fire.  He spoke as though whispering into Chamomile’s ear, grinning as he did.  “I think she looked pretty good.  A little gentler than our last addition but no worse for that.  She’s lying about her background, though.”

Zinnie felt Babier nod behind her and pat her feminine bits twice before withdrawing his hand and pulling her back against his chest.  She pulled the marshmallow with her and ate it right off the stick.  Idly, she wondered if her king would fight with Rocket tonight.  That would be fun to watch; she loved when he was covered in familiar blood.  Gods, infighting was about the only time he would be rough in his affection.  She’d never asked him to be rough, though he’d been a little more firm after putting Benji on his back last week.  While it seemed it should have been scary, she’d trusted him implicitly and, instead, the sensations had been exhilarating.  

“Chamomile,” Babier dropped his volume, clearly waiting for the damaged little flower to attain enough confidence to glance up at him.  To Zinnie’s surprise, the mousy lionesse actually managed this, though a sustain was beyond her still.  “Chamomile, you spent some time with her.  Do you want her to go away?”

Ah, so Babier wasn’t sold on her, after all.  Zinnie grinned and looked straight up to playfully bite at her king’s exposed neck.  He startled as she closed down, pulling a little away before looking down at her and smiling, a hand gently caressing her exposed neck as he pulled his boot away from the fire.  She would stay quiet, as she always did, and allow everyone else to make her decisions for her--

“No!”  The word was too high pitched and shrill to be confident, but defiance was not too far off the mark.  Chamomile pushed Rocket off and bunched one of her fists.  “No, I don’t want her gone.  She’s nice and she’s friendly and she’s my friend.”  She glared with an astounding amount of wrath, looking about ready to lunge into War Form and throw down.  “And she’s not a murderer!”

Babier relaxed his expression and put up his hands up as though in surrender.  “Okay, sweetie, we’ll keep her.”  Zinnie watched her king lift a bottle of beer to his lips and followed the liquid’s path down his throat with her eyes.  He took only a few sips before setting it down in the holder of the green camp-chair.  “You kids wanna call it a night?”

Zinnie made her body purr. There was a trick to it, in that she couldn’t shift her neck bones all the way or the oscillations wouldn’t happen.  Lions didn’t purr but the human colors of her mind insisted that felines did.  Between the fang and tooth, she’d managed to find a harmonious balance that could elicit such a deep and chest-filling sound.

Chamomile stood suddenly, glared for a moment, then turned and darted off into the woods in the general direction of Shasta Lake.  If she made it there from here, it would be rather impressive.  Likely, she would just get out of earshot and curl up to cry or something.  Zinnie stroked Babier’s chest as the weak-willed girl fled and Rocket started to give chase, catching her wrist and saying something to the effect of “it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

The lioness screamed at him to let her go and jerked her hand, not quite managing to free herself.  Babier roared, shifting instantly as Zinnie leapt clear, feeling the bone spurs form under her as the king shifted under her and lunged at Rocket.  The male released Chamomile, which was the point, and then he was on his back with Babier’s front claws digging deep into the subservient male’s abdomen and raking.

Rocket stayed down, crying out once before trying to stay perfectly still.  His breath came in short gasps and Zinnie dropped down into full form, loving the way her elastic clothes snuggled around her form.  She bowed and pulled the shirt and sports bra off before looking back and pulling the skirt into position.  Her lioness loved the feel of clothing and she wished she had a hat with the little elastic band to go under her chin.  Everyone else could choke on her opinion; she knew what she liked.

Trotting over, she lay down beside Rocket’s abdomen and licked at the wound while the male pushed up with his elbows and gently butted heads with Babier.  As the king studied him, looking for even the slightest show of aggression, Rocket’s body filled the immediate area with his fierce lust.

Granted, hummingbirds, boxes of cereal, teddy bears and windshield wipers got him off, so it wasn’t all that odd that being disemboweled was a turn-on to him.  Babier growled and stood, keeping his form and glancing back with a faint smile at the boots which had slipped free.  Zinnie wondered at his changed expression as she considered taking a little nibble of Rocket’s exposed lower intestine and followed his gaze.

Rosetta.  That damned harlot, wearing a tight-fitting red dress with candy-cane red lipstick and her perfect skin and flawless aroma, had silently padded to the front of the trailer and was looking over her shoulder with exactly one thought gleaming in her eye.  Zinnie yowled angrily and hissed, stomping her front feet in the dirt as she started to slink forward.  Rosetta winked at her and slipped inside the door, holding it open as Babier padded over.  The two locked the door behind them, effectively signalling that her tantrum was not the least bit welcome.

Tense and not ready to shift back, Zinnie trotted toward the noisiest trailer and pawed at the latching mechanism until it caught and she could enter.  Dhalia, still smelling of freshly turned earth and exhausted gunpowder, patted her on the head in passing and Benji moved over on the small couch, letting her sprawl in her sulk and even put her head on his thigh, rolling the top of this back to his crotch to get comfortable.  He hefted his ginger-ale and squirmed, readjusting his center of gravity to get a little more comfortable, and rested a hand idly on her side.

Around her, the rest of the pride relaxed over the remaining tacos while Levi and Andes cleaned the dishes.  The new girl was asleep on a corner, having forced herself back into human form after beginning the transformation no fewer than six times.  While impressive, Zinnie didn’t much see the point.  Things were much more comfortable if the change was allowed to come and go naturally.

Then again, other folks tended to refer to a separate mind.  To her, it was all just one beautiful landscape painting.

...

Rosetta awoke early, as she usually did, and stretched out next to her king.  It was rare that she got to keep her mate to herself and she savored the moment, enjoying that he sleepily hugged her close for a moment.  She’d been in eight prides during her tumultuous lifetime and Babier, for all his faults, had been the best she’d ever met.

Sexually, he was a dynamo, taking pride in how well he read his partner or, as was more often the case, partners.  There was more to it than that, however.  In the four years she’d been here, he’d only exiled one female and one male.  Kitten swore he’d killed a few other males when she’d first “joined up,” if playing the jackal that both never left and was never really a part of the pride could be called joining up.  It was about time for her to receive the moon’s gift, which was right and proper.  If she ever got over the hangup about sleeping with a man who had -- for all practical interpretations -- played the role of her father, Rosetta hoped she’d come to her for advice.

Even more than not being murderous within his own pride, Babier was genuinely nurturing and kindly.  He often went out of his way to keep the peace, even moving in to take the brunt of the menial labor when the need arose.  The laid back if it happens, we’ll deal with it attitude meant the members of the pride could express themselves freely.  Even the subservient males each exhibited unique personality traits.  It would have been better if the original coalition of males was still together but at least the human aspect of her mate was strong enough to form those bonds with these newer additions.

She felt safe and secure.  Five males defending six, perhaps seven if Kelly was accepted, females was a good ratio.  She wormed her way free and wrapped herself in Levi’s bathrobe, grabbing a few towels before heading out to catch a shower before anyone else did.

Once clean, Rosetta stepped out into the cold chill of the early morning air.  The sun was still napping, ignoring its call to rise with tumultuous flares about the steep ridges of the surrounding mountains.  She noted that Rocket had picked himself up and limped deep into the forest, though his trail returned at a steep angle and headed to the smallest trailer -- the one shared by Levi and Andes primarily -- and, trailing blood, had managed to get himself inside.  The door was closed but it would still be wise to check up on him.  Regenerative powers notwithstanding, he’d been badly hurt the night before, in more ways than just the one.

The door was locked, though Levi’s key was in his bathroom pocket.  All three RV’s had the same lock for just such a call as this.  Carefully, she eased the door open and felt her jaw drop.

Andes and Benji were curled around Rocket and both were rubbing his limbs, trying to keep the injured male warm.  The heater was cranked to full blast and the battery stores were probably suffering from this, though the buried generators and the solar panel setup would undoubtedly fix that pending issue.

Dropping to hands and knees, Rosetta crawled close and put her ear to Rocket’s nose.  He was breathing, though it was shallow, and his pulse was weak.  He reeked of hyena and blood and conflict and fear.  His abdomen, already a vulnerable target, had clearly been torn open and half-devoured.  An arm was missing and one of his legs looked near enough to amputated to serve that function.  Faintly and above those scents, she could detect wolf.  Something bad had happened, though his survival was more important in this moment than discovering what that was.

“I’ll go get help.”  Rosetta knew she was whispering for no reason as both Andes and Benji looked up at her.  Andes spoke while Benji adjusted his grip, holding Rocket’s right kidney remnants in place such that they would not cause further problems down the line.

“He crawled into camp about ten minutes ago but everyone slept through the call.  Gods but I hope he makes it.  I should have gone out looking…”

Rosetta nodded and touched her hand to the male’s shoulder before rising and retreating back to the secondary trailer to wake everyone.  Zinnie was still in the form of her auspice.  Levi awoke instantly as she opened the door and lowered a gun, smiling and relaxed as he shook his head that she wore his robe.  That sense of peace broke nearly instantly as she relayed the news.

“We’ve been attacked.  Rocket’s on the edge of living.”

Turning, she heard him immediately begin rousing the troops.  Good, that was handled.  She then walked to the main RV and strode to the bed with her gaze narrowed and her intent clear.  Pulling a small dagger from its place in a dresser drawer, she lightly stabbed Babier.

Her king’s Warrior’s Form was tragically handsome, though now she needed that intense energy to go into channeling the pride’s healing energies.  He had her pinned against the wall and sniffed the air by her face twice before relaxing and beginning to adjust her bathrobe again, tidying her as though he’d never been the least threatening.  Granted, she’d likely have roused swinging if it had been to the sensation of being stabbed.

Instead of simpering or performing any such nonsense, she reached up and caught the spikes on his chin, pulling his eyes to meet her own.  “Rocket smells of hyenas and has been half-eaten.  Some wolves were involved.  He needs you by his side.”

Understanding hit his eyes nearly instantly and he was gone.  Rosetta smiled to herself as she walked to the bathroom and pulled out a suture kit.  Her mate was also intelligent, regardless of form.  She didn’t mind sharing him and never had, so long as it was understood that he was not to give her up.

...

Chamomile kept her eyes closed and her body limp, reflexively forcing her breathing and heart rate to slow to the point where her responses would be sluggish.  She was a natural victim; she always had been and always would be.  While this left her with some social ills, the skills she’d learned to survive never truly left.

Her hands were bound apart, as were her legs.  She was inverted, like a spread eagle diving down to catch a fish, and she wore only her skivvies.  She’d been sitting beside a large lake, gazing across the water and the evaporation fog, when a figure had risen out of the mist and hit her.  It must have been some blow, she mused, as it had instantly turned out her lights.

Well, she wasn’t gagged, so that was a plus.  Her pride might not know how to find her but that was okay.  Expressing open friendship and plutonic love was incredibly difficult.  Wearing a mask that hid a boundless and terrifying hatred, though, that was as easy as falling asleep.  Her enemy would think her weak.  She would know herself to be sharpening her claws.

Next Chapter: To Darkness, Light