37. Quin
Gleefully leaving the burning remnants of Vieux Sang behind me, I’ve slowly been following the Mississippi downstream for the past couple of days. It doesn’t help that I can’t travel out in the open during the day, as I have yet to shift back to my human form. I’ve switched out a couple of times from this new, hybrid form into my tiger, but even then, I’ve had to hide myself from view.
While I still haven’t fully investigated my hybrid form, it’s become apparent that O’Hare’s experimentation on me had an unexpected side-effect on my animal.
My tiger once resembled a Siberian in size and coloring and was considered to be on the large size for the genus. When shifted I used to weigh in at about six hundred and fifty pounds and measured at around one hundred and forty inches from my nose to the end of my tail in a straight line. Now, however?
I think my new form would eat my old one for breakfast. I’m at least a foot and a half taller at the shoulder, another two feet longer, and I’m probably not far off weighing in at a thousand pounds.
I’ve taken to wading in the shallows of the river during the darkest time of night while in my tiger form, my size allowing me to keep the duffel bag and the contents nestled within well above the water level. It wouldn’t do to get the devices inside wet, not if I want to use them as further proof of my parents’ and O’Hare’s perfidy and hold them fully responsible for the atrocities they’ve committed under the pretext of scientific research.
I’ve also taken to sleeping during the day, finding or forming hollows at the base of the trees along the riverbank. It’s actually quite easy for me to hunt fish and smaller animals in this form, and while the human part of my brain recoils at eating raw meat still warm from the kill, my tiger half revels in the flavor of hot blood coating my tongue. I supplement my hunts with some of the foodstuffs I scavenged from the kitchen back at the facility, but even they are running low. I don’t want to head into a town and figure out where I am until I’ve changed back into my human shape, because sure as shit, how I look now will draw attention.
And that’s the last thing I want right now.
***
“Quin…”
The breathy nature of my mate’s voice rouses me in more ways than one. I open my eyes to find Izzy lying beside me on the bed, a single cotton sheet the only thing protecting her modesty. The fabric clings lovingly to her form, following each swell and dip of her body. It tantalizes me with glimpses of pale skin every time she moves, the material shifting and gliding in sensuous waves, the friction teasing my own aroused flesh to dizzying heights.
Izzy lifts the sheet and exposes me to the cool evening air. My cock is rigid and throbbing, the plum-shaped crown swollen and dripping pre-cum down my spined shaft. A sticky puddle of it pools on my abdomen, and I groan as Izzy teases her fingers through the fluid, swiping them up to her mouth and sucking them clean.
“Mmmm, you taste like saltwater taffy. I could lap you up all day, and still beg you for more.”
Izzy’s voice trembles with need and hunger, and her fiery curls tumble down around her head, shielding her face from view. The ends of her hair tickles my thighs, but they’re nothing to the silken glide of her lips and tongue tracing over the bumps dotted over the length of my cock. While not the most sensitive part of my anatomy, the movement of my penile spines does stimulate my nerves, almost like the feeling of someone brushing butterfly kisses over the crook between the neck and shoulder.
My cock jerks under Izzy’s ministrations, and I shudder, biting down on my lip in the hopes that the sharp pain will take off the edge of my pleasure.
It works to an extent. At least now I might get the chance to slip inside her and feel her hot wetness gripping me before I completely lose my shit.
“Bel, please… I can’t… If you keep teasing me like that, I’m not gonna last. I want to be deep inside you before I cum.”
I grasp a handful of curls and gently tug her head up and away from my straining flesh. Thankfully, Izzy follows my lead, sliding her way up my torso until her face hovers over mine. I tug her down, crushing her mouth to my own, the salty remains of my pre-cum painting her lips with an erotic sheen.
Our kisses are wet and furious, even sloppy to an extent, as we desperately attempt to devour each other. Our tongues duel for dominance, our mouths sucking and teeth biting with ferocity. I want to consume Izzy, make her scream and send her spiraling so far into oblivion that she loses control. I want her convulsing with pleasure as she rides me to mutual climax. I want to fill her until she’s overflowing with my cum, until her belly swells with the sheer volume. I want her fecund and engorged, growing my cub.
I haul Izzy up the bed, parting her legs until they hang over my shoulders and then tug her to her knees. I position her until she’s hovering just out of reach, the swollen lips of her cunt glistening and flushed above me with the proof of her need.
“Sit,” I demand, pressing down on her thighs until her pussy straddles my face, and I moan as her heady musk surrounds me, her flavors and scents exploding across my senses. I dive in, greedily feasting on her outer lips and clit before spearing my tongue up inside her core. Her arousal floods my mouth as she rocks against me, grinding her pussy down onto my face, chasing her pleasure. I double down on my efforts, intent on having her screaming and gushing before I impale her on my cock.
My hands grip the fleshy globes of Izzy’s ass, the tips of my fingers digging in as she rides my face. I shift her slightly, allowing my left pinky to ease along her cleft, the sensation pushing her higher toward her climax.
She’s close, so fucking close!
I graze my pinky over her puckered hole, smiling as she jerks in reaction. I repeat the action once, twice, and then the third time I push inside, just to the first knuckle.
Izzy detonates.
Slick gushes from her cunt, flooding my mouth and drenching my face. I drink it down like a man dying of thirst, her nectar the sweetest ambrosia to cross my tongue. Izzy’s hips move as she follows the wave of her orgasm to its conclusion, her rhythm eventually slowing. Her chest heaves as she gulps down air, and her hair hangs in lank tendrils down her spine. She blinks down at me, a drunken, dopey grin spreading across her face.
“Holy heck, Quin. That was amazing!”
I lift Izzy and move her back down my body, re-situating her so she straddles my hips. She hasn’t noticed yet that I’m still hard, and while my stomach may be covered in pre-cum, I haven’t reached my own finish yet.
“I’m fucking ecstatic to hear that, Bel. Ready for round two?”
Puzzlement creases her brow, and her lips part as she queries my question.
“Wait, round two? What do you me—”
I spin us both, cradling Izzy in my arms as she lands on the mattress, and her words cut off in a cry as I thrust my aching cock into her slick, swollen heat. I move with focused intent, chasing my climax as she spasms and clutches around me.
Heat and searing pain shoot down our bond, and I fall into blackness.
***
I startle awake, disoriented and aching from my dream. I’d been dozing in the late afternoon gloom, trying to get another hour or so’s rest before I embarked on my nightly trek, but that’s at an end seeing how my bond with Izzy has flared to life. It’s the first time it’s done this since I was captured all those months ago, and it’s enough to have me sitting up and slamming my head into the trunk of the tree I’ve been sheltering beneath.
I close my eyes and reach out to the bond, perturbed at the state it’s in. It’s pulsing with emotion and pain, and every minute or so it flares so bright that it burns. Each burst of light is accompanied by a sudden, sharp pain, and is tinged with red.
I reach out for my other bonds, and when I get to the one I share with Simon, I’m stunned at its response. It, too, is pulsing and flaring in time with Izzy’s, and as I allow the threads tying us together to realign, I’m inundated with worry, hope, joy, and sadness. Simon’s with Izzy, I can tell that much, and she’s safe. But the sorrow and longing for my absence to end is so raw, it brings tears to my eyes.
Izzy’s having our cub, and I’m not there for it.
I bite down hard, refusing to allow the howl of anguish welling up in my chest an outlet. I’m on my way to her, and I can only hope that she’ll forgive me for not being with her at this time. Gods know I’ll never forgive my parents, or myself.
Giving up on any prospect of further rest, I creep out of my temporary and hidden den. I chose it because I couldn’t scent anything other than wild animals in the area, and that impression stays true. No matter how deeply I inhale and taste the air, the only thing even remotely close to human on this stretch of the river is me.
I head over to a shallow pool that has formed beside the main tributary of the river, and finally take a close look at the reflection staring back at me.
My head is broad and triangular in shape, the skin covered in short, velvety-soft fur. Instead of the long, straight line I’m used to seeing, my nose is wide and flat, the heart-shaped tip colored pink and edged with black. The sharp, stark cut of my cheekbones are prominent, and my ears sit pinned back at the top of my head. Amber eyes glow eerily from beneath the shadow of my brow, and vicious, sharp fangs crowd the pink gums inside my black-rimmed mouth. The ruff surrounding my head is dark like my hair, but the fur covering my face is burnt orange, fading into white at my chin. Black stripes coat my forehead and cheeks along my existing facial creases, the inky shade deepening them until they look as though they’re carved into my skull.
I’m a monster, but one that is stronger and more powerful than my tormentors likely expect.
I bend over the water, using my splayed paws—hands?—to scoop the water up and splash it over my face. As I scrub my pads—palms?—over my visage, a deep thrum vibrates through my body. This feels different from when I change into my new tiger form, and I can feel my body preparing to shift. I bite down to avoid crying out, and brace myself for the expected agony, but the pain never comes.
Like a rubber band snapping back into place, there’s a stretch and tugging sensation, and then the breath is knocked from my lungs as my body contracts into the shape I’ve possessed my entire life.
I crawl hurriedly back to the water’s edge and gawp in disbelief at the image reflected there. I’m me again, my hair messy and in desperate need of a cut, my jaw lined with a beard that needs shaving, and a face that is wholly human. My hands and fingers are back to normal, and except for the gaunt pallor of someone who’s been kept in captivity for too long, I appear no different from any other person on the street.
I scrabble back to the duffel bag, opening it up and pulling out clean clothes. Sweatpants, a long-sleeved shirt, jacket, shoes, and socks, they all come out. I grimace down at the soiled scrubs dangling from my hips and tear them off. I’ll use them as a wash rag in the river if I must, because like hell am I going to be lugging them along with the rest of my gear, not if I don’t have to.
I make quick work of my wash-down, scrubbing the layers of grime and sweat from my skin using the frigid waters of the Mississippi. It wakes me up and energizes me, which is something I need if I want to get my ass into gear and get back to Louisiana before Thanksgiving. It shouldn’t take me that long, but I’m determined to follow the Mississippi along its banks, not only because it’s easier for me to stay out of the public eye, but because there’s also plenty of prey I can hunt as well as places for me to hide during the day. It also makes it hard for me to get lost. If I follow the river, I know I’ll end up within ten miles of Izzy and the sanctuary.
By the time the sun is dipping below the horizon, I’m relatively clean and dressed against the evening chill. Repacking the duffel, I pull out a granola bar before slinging it over my shoulder. Pointing myself toward the south, I set off at a steady lope. I haven’t noticed anyone on my tail while I’ve been on the move, but a sense of urgency fills me. My family is growing, and I need to be with them.
Especially because I know my parents are gonna find us all, and we need to prepare for them to rain down Hell upon us.