I knew as soon as I knocked on the door that this was a mistake, as soon as I put my hand on her that it was it, the need to mark her took over and I fought it back.
I could feel my animal scratching to get free; it was as if he screamed, "We need to go, now!" My body started to get extremely hot, my eyes started to water and I knew I had no choice but to get to a safe place for my animal to run. The air was growing thicker and I started to itch at the skin on my neck.
I don't remember what happened next, but I'm pretty sure I threw money at her and jumped on my bike, tearing out of the parking lot like the devil was on my heels.
Now here I am speeding to the back of the lot where my brothers and I all shift. I know this shift is going to hurt, because I suppressed him for so long.
I slid into the parking spot and hurriedly jumped off my bike removing my cut and boots before tearing my jeans off and running toward the heavily wooded area. I took no notice that there were people walking along the trails, I knew they were friendly to the club because no one was allowed back here, but I couldn't give two shits what they saw, I needed to run and I needed to change now.
I could hear the whispers and giggling coming from the women, watching my naked form hurdling over a fallen tree as my hearing became clearer. I shift effortlessly in the air, as the branches and pine needles scratch and tear at my skin, I yowl out from the first snap of bone. What would normally cause minor paper cut like scratches that would heal quickly, leaves me screaming out in agony as the pain of my animal tearing through my body begins. The limbs that are reforming into the long legs of the lynx have me screaming out. What starts out as a human male yell quickly turns into the screech of the animal. The small cuts burn deeper as the hairs start to slice through my pores. Pin prick after pin prick assaults my cheeks as the whiskers start pushing through the skin and my face takes on an animalistic shape. My human ears flatten and push to the peak of my head as the pointed tufts of hair to distinguish that I am a Canadian Lynx stand tall, pointing to the sky. The process of changing from human to animal contorts my body into the beautiful shape of my lynx. The excruciating pain of bones snapping and joints popping from the transformation kicking into full gear has me begging for mercy from anyone willing to listen. My spine arches back like the little mermaid reaching for the open air as my heart grows twice its normal size with each pump of acidic blood that surges through my body as it heats from the fever of my change. My animalistic instincts have taken over as I drop to my haunches and screech to the darkened sky.
I ran and yowled as I rolled through the mud and eventually the snow at the peak of the small mountain. The cold from the fluffy frozen snow felt good on my aching joints.
The sky was starting to get dark; I knew I needed to get back to my brothers and the clubhouse, but the cold eased my mind and made me miss my grandma even more.
I let a yowl loose at the sky and made my way back down the mountain; the air was fresh, like a fresh bought of snow was coming in.
"Rhys, please stop running away from me. It's dark and you never know what creatures hide in the dark." That voice, her voice, was walking up the path. It was like a slap to the crotch at how much I needed to be in her life.
I put my nose in the air and inhaled, her scent was intoxicating to me. Not only did I want to have her on my skin, my Lynx wanted to smell like her.
"What, are you afraid of the dark, Momma?" a squeaky little voice taunted her.
She giggled, making me drop to my haunches. "I'm not afraid of the dark, just the things that roam around in it."
The little boy opened his mouth and I decided I would show him the truth in his mother's words. I spun around facing away from them and let out a feral growl followed by a chirp. They both screamed and ran toward a beat-up shit box of a car.
She climbed in and slammed her doors, trying desperately to start the car, but the car had seen better years, like the nineteen eighties.
Luckily, my bike was across the lot, so I was able to make my way around to my bike and shift into my human form without being seen.
I threw on my pants, placing my cut on my shoulders before starting my bike and heading over to her.
My hearing was still keen, so I could hear all the non-cursive curse words. Who yells out son of a motherless goat? I mean I've heard the saying before, it's a Canadian thing, but coming from those gorgeous lips, it made me laugh.
I knocked on the hood of her car and smiled at her before asking her to pop the hood.
I hear the telltale sound of the latch releasing on
