Free A Lion's Heart by Kracken Page B

hoped someone else wouldn't use that scent to trap him again. Nervously, Tamarind moved far downwind before he began his search for a place to sleep. On the Savannah, they built small huts, but Tamarind had rarely slept in them. He preferred a smooth rock high up above the tall grasses, the clear, starry sky, and the moon sailing overhead.
    The ground grew rocky and sloped sharply upward. Tamarind picked his way carefully and then found a small opening half hidden by ferns and the roots of trees. Tamarind squeezed in, hating the chill of the rock, the cold ground, and the lack of space. He didn't want to be out in the open, though, not when his senses were so confused.
    Tamarind curled up into a ball, tucking inward so that he was protected by the thick fur on his legs. He stared out at the darkness and listened to the sound of tree branches rubbing together in a breeze. Leaves rustled and animals made small noises. Crickets made an endless symphony punctuated by croaking frogs. That told Tamarind where there was water and food. He would eat frogs if that was all he could manage to kill.
    Grimacing at having to fall that low, Tamarind's thoughts wandered toward home and what must be happening there. It pained him when he thought of Kiva. The werelion had been as close as a brother to Tamarind. It hadn't surprised him when he had declined to challenge Katze for his sake. The white leader of their pride was a huge werelion and skilled at fighting. Challenging him would have meant death. It did hurt that Kiva hadn't followed him into the Savannah. Male werelions often paired when they were cast out from their prides, and it wasn't unusual for such friends to share the leadership of a pride. If there were many females, it would take more than one male to satisfy them and to keep other males from trying to claim them. Such partnerships were almost necessary.
    Katze had broken that tradition though. He hadn't driven out all males, just Tamarind. Kiva, and other males who had pledged their allegiance, he had kept close and, it seemed, he was using them to take over all the prides. Katze was determined to take them to war. It was unheard of, strange to contemplate. Werelions belonged on the Savanna. They weren't meant for forests.
    Tamarind thought of his foster mother and the pain in his heart grew. She had broken tradition to adopt him. If she had tried to stop Katze from sending him away, Tamarind hadn't seen it. He closed his eyes and tried to think of her soft, warm fur and her comforting voice. In the cold of a small hole in the rocks of a strange forest, it was impossible to breathe life into that memory. It was much easier, far easier, to remember the warmth of a certain werewolf.
    Tamarind felt an uncomfortable heat again, the same heat that had come over him when he had caught Shakra's new scent. Something about the prince drew him, but Tamarind didn't understand what that something might be. The prince was arrogant, rude, and commanding... yet, he had shown Tamarind kindness. Tamarind didn't want to warm to him or be grateful. He was still hurting from his capture by the werecheetahs and he had seen enough of the political and social intrigue of the Keep to have a bad taste in his mouth. Allowing any kind of... friendship... to develop, between himself and a prince of such a place... Common sense told him that it could only end badly. Better to be alone and hope that the hyper werefox would keep his promise to take him home.
    Yet... Tamarind sighed. Werelions fought for leadership so they could mate with females. Tamarind had never felt the urge, had never wanted to challenge Katze or leave to find his own pride. He had been comfortable among the females and being friends with Kiva. Kiva had joked that he was still a cub, and to give it time, but even Kiva had begun to wonder about his friend when he himself had followed the scent of a female and dallied in secret, while Tamarind had felt complete indifference.
    The strong