Sharp, stinging pain filled his scent even as he shook his head. “You’re not thinking straight.” Denial hardened his voice. “You’ve been doing so well. I can’t lose you after I just got you back.”
“I told Kyla to find you, not for you both to come looking for me. I knew what I faced when that collar went around my neck,” she said gently. “It’s been two hundred days, Lin. Nothing is working.”
He was silent for a beat, then asked quietly, “You’ve been counting this whole time?”
Sage nodded slowly. “I keep expecting to wake up one day and feel… I don’t know. Not better. Like I have less weight on my shoulders? Just something different than this emptiness.
“I can’t shift. My lioness is full of rage, but disappears at the vaguest hint of a threat. You know as well as I do what happens when our kind become disconnected from their animals.”
There was only one solution for a shifter slowly unraveling. She needed to be put down before she became a danger to those around her. She’d be a liar if she said she hadn’t thought about it before. But there, too, she was a coward.
So far, her inner animal was content to remain hidden away. But the moment she wanted out? If she couldn’t control the creature, she risked being the one trapped deep in her head, losing her humanity a little more each day. Rogue shifters were more animal than human, and more powerful than their regular animal kin. They weren’t beholden to any pride or followed any laws. They acted on the purest of instinct—survival—no matter who crossed their path.
She hated, absolutely hated, how much better that sounded than the faded existence she found herself in.
“One year,” Lindley sighed.
Sage broke out of her thoughts and glanced at him. “What?”
“Give me the complete year. You’re already two hundred days in. What harm will it do to add a few more months?”
“Oh, only losing control of my animal and mauling some innocent strangers. No harm at all,” she muttered.
Lindley reached up and squeezed her calf. “I’m serious, Sage. One year. I’m not giving up on you.”
Sage frowned, but another crushing wave of exhaustion hit her. She could press, but he’d dig in his heels. The same lack of energy that kept her on her steps applied to the fight she’d face. “One year,” she agreed. “But Lin, promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“If my lioness rips out of me, if I hurt anyone…” She slowly shook her head. “Don’t let me be a danger.”
Jaw tight, Lindley nodded.
Deep in Sage’s head, her lioness roared.
Chapter 7
The saddle groaned as Rhys put all his weight on one stirrup and dismounted. He gave the dappled grey gelding a hurried rub on the neck before jogging forward to make quick work of the ties keeping the gate in place. It was a simple thing, no more than an extra fence post and a break in the wire, but it did the job of separating the pastures. With October’s arrival, the herd needed to be moved out of the back grazing pastures and closer to the barn for easier feeding and monitoring when it came time to wean the calves.
The first cows broke over the hill at his back by the time he had the gate pulled to the side. Over the mooed serenade, he heard the shouts of the pride. Directions were called out for human ears as much as encouraging curses were thrown to the cattle they drove forward.
He hauled himself back in the saddle in time to see the first of the herd pass into the next pasture. Over the backs of the milling creatures, he spotted Seth and Dash riding up and down the column, keeping them locked together. He did the same on his side, and frowned when he spotted Lindley twitching his reins and riding for him.
“I got this. Help Trent at the back,” Rhys called out.
“It’s a two person job, dipshit!” Lindley shouted back, heeling his horse faster.
The sudden movement at their side spooked a trio of cows. They banked into others in the main column, then rushed out into the open.
Lindley waved a hand in the air and hollered, “Get ‘em, get ‘em, get. Them!”
The cows and their calves huffed and snorted as they kicked their heels and rushed past Rhys. He nudged his horse forward, keeping close to the fence. The last thing they needed was a cow or calf tangled up in wire as they tried to outrun their pursuers.
He caught the first pair and kicked his horse for an extra burst of speed. Long legs streaked forward until they were neck and neck with the lead pair. Huge eyes rolled in his direction before they broke away again, thankfully away from the fence.
“What the hell are you doing? Sleeping in your damn saddle?” Lindley shouted once the cows and calves were back with the herd. “What are we paying you for?”
Rhys raised a hand in the air and fired off a middle finger in answer.
Asshole had been in a foul mood since Seth, Lilah, and Sage had returned from their trip to Oklahoma. Rhys knew the newly mated couple weren’t at the root of the problem, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about what really bothered the pride’s second.
His lion raked claws against his insides. Tail lashing from side to side, the beast bared his teeth and snarled. Sendings flashed faster than he could focus, but the overwhelming wash of red and pain was enough to get the idea. Idiot animal had been as pissed as Lindley for days.
What either of them expected him to do, he didn’t know. Lindley had caught him at the end of a pride gathering and laid an impossible request on his shoulders. The man wanted him to help keep Sage tethered to this
