Free Shades of Gray by Lisanne Norman Page B

in her silky hair. He felt her tail flick gently against his legs.
    At last he pulled back from her. “You don’t warm me, Kuushoi, you never have. Your coolness burns me,” he said hoarsely, picking her up in his arms and carrying her back to the bed they shared. “It sears my soul.”
    “Better that than lie with my oh-so-worthy lukewarm sister,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him as he lowered himself onto her. “Her desire will not warm you at all.”
    “Don’t talk about her like that,” he said, his voice thick with passion as he pushed her hair aside and began to kiss and nip at her neck. “She doesn’t try to own me as you do.”
    “Then don’t talk of Spring to me,” she whispered, arching up to meet his sudden urgency.

Kij’ik
    The Hunter had arrived at his rooms now, and convinced Shaidan had something to do with the black, or null, zones that frequently surrounded him, Giyarishis reached out through Unity and activated the Isolator in the cub’s bedroom, putting him instantly into a deep sleep that nothing save morning would wake him from.
    That done, he chose the interface in the Hunter’s suite and settled back to monitor what they were doing.
     
    “You said you wanted to talk,” Zayshul said as he laid himself carefully, facedown, on the towels she’d spread over the top of his bed.
    He felt the bed move as she settled herself astride him, then smelled the sudden, pungent aroma of the massage oil as she opened it.
    “I do,” he said. “The thing is, I don’t know how much of what I’m thinking and sensing is imagination.”
    Her hands, thick with the oil, began to stroke across his shoulders, following the lie of his short but dense pelt. “Your fur is soaking up the oil,” she said, her voice rich with amusement as she stopped for a moment to pour more oil into her hands. “You really needed this treatment. I just hope I’ve got the mix that Banner told me right.”
    He twisted his head around in an effort to squint up at her. “Banner gave you the recipe? When did he do that?”
    “During your meal break. It’s a muscle relaxant coupled with a conditioner for your pelt, he said. Something to ease your body and put the oils back into your skin and fur. He said it looked shockingly dry and dull after your rapid healing.”
    Grunting, he let his head fall back on his folded forearms. Thoughtful of him, but then that was Banner all over—he took his responsibilities seriously. She was working on the other shoulder now, spreading the warmed oil downward toward his shoulder blade, part of the complex joint system that allowed him to switch between upright and all-fours stance. The heating had been turned up because of the chill in the air they’d both been feeling earlier that day, and the scent of the oil was beginning to fill his small bedroom. He found it pleasant, with slightly soporific overtones, probably from the muscle-easing herbs.
    “Tell me what’s worrying you. Sharing it by talking about it might clarify your thoughts,” she said, easing her way slowly, with regular pressure and strokes, down his back to his hips.
    “Something and nothing,” he said. “I had plenty of time in my cell to think through the events of the past year or so, and it’s as if there was a thread running though them, a kind of hidden purpose.”
    “To what ends?” she asked, beginning to spread the oil over his hips and thighs. “By the way, do I massage your tail?”
    The incongruity of the question struck him, and he began to chuckle. “Not unless you want to. The muscles in it are fine.” He flicked it up, unerringly wrapping it around her wrist.
    She pulled against the coils of it, finding they tightened briefly before releasing her. “Very amusing,” she said, swatting his butt lightly. “How am I supposed to know?”
    “True,” he agreed amiably, allowing himself to sink into the pleasant sensations she was creating. “The ends are here, I think,” he added