Wolf's Bounty (Love Slaves of the Alphas 6)

“I told you…” “And I told you I can take care of myself. But if it will make you feel better and stop being such a stubborn ass, I’ll barricade myself inside the wreckageof the ship. ”

Tarr looked up at him and then back over at the wreckage, some fifty feet away. “Can you do that? Isit in good enough shape?”

Larsson nodded. “I can get inside the hatch and lower it. The hull is banged all to hell, but mostly intact. The heat shields are pretty much fucked, but it’s still in one piece mostly. ”

Tarr nodded. “If you’re sure. Getinside and stay quiet. If the tiger figures out he can’t get to you, he’ll probably lose interest and go try to find something else to eat. He’s pretty hungry. ”

Smiling, Larsson looked down at him. “You talk about him like he’s not part of you. ”

Tarr shrugged. “He’s part of me, I guess, but not the same as your wolf. When we shift, we become animals, and don’t retain any of our humanoid brain. I’ve heard stories that some people have a kind of sense memory of their families, even their nobyos, especially if the old stories are true and the nobyo is a true mate, but I don’t know, and I don’t want to take any chances with you. ”

“With me?” Larsson tilted his head and stared down at Tarr, curious as to what he meant. Larsson thought of Tarr as his mate, but Tarr had never given any indication th

at he reciprocated the feeling. Oh, he flirted outrageously and had come after Larsson relentlessly, even putting that ridiculous bounty on his head, but that was more because he was a bastard than anything else, surely.

“Did you just imply that I’m your nobyo? Because let me tell you, I’m nobody’s love slave. Youcan just get that idea out of your head right now. ”

“Yes, yes,” Tarr said tiredly, trying to stand up. “You’ve made it clear how you feel. ” He’d made it to his feet and even though he looked ready to collapse again, a little twinkle sparkled up in his eyes as he gazed at Larsson. “Though last night, you were giving out some, shall we say, mixed signals?”

“Fuck you,” Larsson said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was just trying to make you feel better. ”

“Oh, it worked. ” Tarr grinned at him. “Wonderful first aid technique. Can you show it to me again later?”

Larsson glared at him and stalked toward the wreckage. “If you’re finished acting like an ass, you need to shift. As soon as I get inside—you hear me?”

“Yes, darling,” Tarr said, grinning broadly at the filthy look Larsson threw at him before he climbed up onto the cockpit. Larson pulled back the hatch and lowered himself inside. Hedidn’t know how long he might have to stay inside here, but he was hoping Tarr’s tiger would sniff around a bit and then take off to hunt, or whatever it was that tigers did. Tarr’s seat was mostly intact, though hanging at an odd angle. He reached up and pulled the clear cockpit cover down and locked it in place, giving Tarr a thumbs-up sign. He had no idea if Tarr would know what that meant, but he’d learned it at the Alliance academy and hoped Tarr knew it meant he was good to go.

There wasn’t enough room to stand up inside the cockpit and once he sat down, he couldn’t see Tarr’s shift. He settled himself as comfortably as he could in Tarr’s seat and picked up the compnet. He had a vague memory of it flying off his lap during the wild ride down to the moon’s surface, so he didn’t have much hope that it was still working, and of course, it wasn’t. He had just put it back down on the floor behind him when he heard a loud thump on the fuselage and a huge shadow fell over him.

Looking down at him through the clear cover was a beautiful, exotic creature, a massive, beautiful tiger, perhaps sixteen feet long and powerfully built. Larsson had seen pictures of the Tygerian tigers, but they hadn’t done them justice. It was golden-orange in color with broad black stripes. Its big claws scratched at the clear cover on the cockpit as the beast gazed down at him, locking its eyes with Larsson’s. The golden-green gaze looked familiar to him, and he thought he would have known this was Tarr anywhere.

The beast frantically pawed at the cover again, and through the cover he could hear the low, rumbling growl comingfrom the creature’s chest. Larsson knew without a doubt that no matter how powerful his own beast was, it didn’t have half the strength of this massive animal. Tarr was right to have been worried, and Larsson was very glad of the barrier between them. The tiger threw back his head and roared, then jumped down off the cockpit. Larsson gave it a good thirty minutes, but eventually, the heat inside the cockpit and his own raging thirst and need to stoke the fire forced him to open the hatch and crawl out, looking around him for any sign of Tarr’s beast. He saw no sign of him, though, so he jumped down off the craft and went over to pull the water off the fire to cool.

While he was waiting, he found a longish branch in the load of wood he’d brought in earlier and skinned all the needles off it to make a fishing pole. He’d seen some small fish swimming in the eddies of the river by a big boulder, and he thought he might be able to catch a few of them to see if they were edible. He spent some time fashioning a hook out of a pin from the first aid kit and tore a strip of gauze as his fishing line. It was pretty sad-looking when he finished, but he hoped it might work if he could find any bait.

By this time the water had cooled enough for him to drink and he tipped the can back, drinking almost half of it before he lowered the can. He’d save the rest for Tarr. Hehadn’t seen any sign of him since he first shifted, and he wondered if he could shift back at will or if he had to stay in his tiger form for a certain period of time. Maybe he should have asked that question instead of allowing Tarr to taunt him into being angry again. What was there about the man that made him fly so easily into a rage?

Tarr was at once the most disreputable, irritating man he’d ever met and the most fascinating—not to mention so damn sexy it took everything he had not to jump him every time he looked at him. Thenight before had been an aberration, and couldn’t be repeated. He just didn’t trust himself not to get carried away and give Tarr the mating bite. The only thing that prevented him from doing it then was the knowledge of how fragile he was with his injuries, but Larsson couldn’t trust himself not to forget about that next time.

There could be no next time. If he were truly and completely mated with Tarr, it would eventually mean his death. Larsson felt certain of that. Either Tarr would leave him and that would be the same as killing him, or he would only want him for his damned love slave and that would just as surely destroy him. No, he was better off keeping whatever distance he could from the man.

Having made his fishing pole, he went over to the base of the cliff and began turning over rocks, hoping to find some kind of insect he could use for bait. He was hopeful, since finding the fish that there might be a good deal of wildlife on the moon. If larger game was available, he and Tarr would need to hunt. His wolf was perfect for the job, and was strong enough and fast enough to easily pull down most small game.

And while water and food were the first priorities, they would need some kind of shelter a little more substantial than the lean to. His mind was busy with ideas as he crouched beside the small eddy at the edge of the shore, so he never heard the tiger coming up behind him until he was only a few feet away.

Hearing the soft pad of his feet behind him, Larsson knew what was coming for him. Freezing in place, Larsson slowly turned and saw the huge, beautiful creature not ten feet away from him, its eyes seeming to burn a hole through him with their intensity. It was crouching down, stalking him like prey. He thought briefly of running for the ship, but realized he’d never make it.

Desperately, he tried to remember anything he’d learned in the Academy about these Tygerian tigers. He knew, for example, that tigers would attack most any animal that placed itself in a vulnerable position, like he was in right now. They depended on concealment and a stalk and ambush approach to capture their prey. Something told him that if he tried to run, it would be over quickly.

Larsson’s distraction had given it the chance it needed to approach. Larsson knew instinctively that as soon as it got close enough it would rush him, probably seizing his shoulder or neck to force him to theground. That’s where the lethal bite would come—to the back of his neck. Ironic that Larsson had been thinking about biting Tarr in the exact same spot just a short time ago, except his would have been a mating bite, and given in love and passion.

The tiger had stopped its approach when he turned to look at it and though it was still growling softly, it hadn’t rushed him yet. Larsson knew that if he suddenly stood up, it would be on him in seconds, so he did the only thing he could think of—he dropped down to his knees and covered his head with his arms, bending down as low to the ground as he could get.

The tiger was on him in an instant, and Larsson heard the loud snarl in his ear and felt the hot, moist breath on the backs of his hands. It stood over him, covering him completely with its body, its weight partially resting on his back, holding him down. His wolf was close, ready to spring out and fight, though Larsson knew it was useless. He forced it back down, and tried to make himself as small and limp as possible, playing dead. He could smell the overpowering scent of the wild beast and feel the soft fur that covered him. A steady, low rumble was coming from the beast’s chest, as a huge paw landed on his back and pushed him down flat.

Amazingly, its claws had been sheathed, and he could feel the hot, wet nose of the beast sniffing at his neck. He felt the beast’s saliva dripping down on his neck and imagined him opening his mouth to take a big bite out of the back of his head. Instead, the tiger chuffed out its breath and fell down beside him, keeping a paw on his back and pressing him facedown. He waited for the teeth to rip into his neck, but nothing happened. Larsson peered up from between his fingers and saw the tiger staring down at him with his beautiful golden eyes. The pupils were oval and though he had a flat expression, he didn’t look particularly savage at the moment. He simply gazed down at him and Larsson could have sworn he saw a kind of awareness in his eyes.

Did he recognize him then? If Tarr was coming out of it, he might be more aware. Still, Larsson lay there, afraid to move and test the theory. The big tiger lay beside him, not really threatening, but making no move to leave either. After what seemed like an interminable time, lying there waiting for his own imminent death, the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body drained off and incredibly he began to feel sleepy. His family had always teased him that he could fall asleep anywhere and apparently they’d been right. Hedecided he’d close his eyes, just for a minute or two.