well, I'm a lion in the haze and the lamb in the lightning
oh, these spears and chains of flames around my neck are tightening

Even though he had a home, a home seemingly abandoned and in turmoil but a home nonetheless, Alek still found himself wandering, his feral nature taking him far and wide on most days. Today, he had risen with the fog in the forest, his body damp from the humidity and pointed his dark nose to the border. He had shaken the rust from his coat and broke into a jog and then a gallop, and it was at this pace that he had travelled for most of the day. It had felt good to stretch out, to run, to wind his muscular body around the winding trees and beat out a new path, but now, the day having long folded, he felt exhaustion set in.

It was just the tendrils of it, sweeping through his belly and winding up his throat, and he welcomed the ache of it. His body was slick with sweat, the cool night air causing steam to rise off his haunches, and his eyes were fever bright. He loved this feeling, loved the lather on his neck, the heaviness of his body as he wandered, his belly full on the freedom. Sleep would be good tonight—dark and deep and endless.

He was reaching for it, almost there, when he heard her tears, the sound of them soft and eerie in the otherwise silent forest. For a moment, he considered ignoring them; after all, he had no obligation to hunt out an unknown female. But, curiosity took over and he began to search, following the source of the noise until he came across her, the small dark mare looking devastated. A frown crossed his handsome features as he took a step forward, predatory grace clear in the way he moved, markedly feline even in this form.

“Hello, love,” his voice was husky, his dual-colored eyes searching her face. “Make a habit of haunting these woods?” One corner of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile, although concern laced his expression.

Aleksandr

well, I'm a lion in the haze and the lamb in the lightning
oh, these spears and chains of flames around my neck are tightening

He watched as she straightened, as she dried her tears and turned her focus to him. That’s my girl, he thought, approving of her collecting herself, pulling herself inward. His dual-colored eyes sparked with interest, the corner of his mouth quirking as he took a small step toward her, testing the waters. He still steamed from exertion, but this was altogether more interesting than an evening run and certainly more interesting then finding a place to close his eyes for the night. The witching hour was always his favorite.

He didn’t miss her correction, the ‘we’ that became an ‘I’ and he wondered, briefly, if that was the cause of the tears he had heard—of the sorrow on her face. Was it a present ‘we’? He tilted his head, looking at her with open curiosity, his stance open and masculine as he considered her. After a moment, he shrugged. He didn't know who the other was and decided he didn’t care. Whoever it was wasn’t here, and Alek had a habit of taking what he wanted, when he wanted. His crooked smile turned devilish at the thought of it.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve hunted,” his dark voice filled the space between them, smooth and yet ragged around the edges. When his lips pulled back to reveal even teeth, it was clear it was the smile of a predator, although perhaps not the kind she was used to hunting alongside. “Although I prefer big game.”

Another step toward her as she glanced up at the moon, the stallion continuing to test the waters between them. “Reagan,” her name was rich on his tongue, and he savored it. “That's quite the name, love.” His head dropped just slightly, just enough that he could look her in the eye, capture the green of her gaze. He was close enough now that he could smell her, could feel the heat of her, and this is where he paused, the air between them thick with tension. He dangled the opportunity out for her, but left the final step to her.

“My name is Alek.” His eyes glinted as he felt the charge in the otherwise silent night, the forbidden fruit right before her, his dark face open and knowing. His voice dropped, humor lacing his whiskey tone.  

“So, if you’re the caretaker, does that mean I am trespassing?”

Aleksandr

well, I'm a lion in the haze and the lamb in the lightning
oh, these spears and chains of flames around my neck are tightening

He was still as she spoke, but there was something about him, something about the way he held himself, the way the lines drew him up that made him look in constant motion—a wildness, a restlessness that simmered beneath his flesh. But his eyes, green and blue and gold, never strayed from her face. He was blunt with his eye contact, direct as he watched her, studied her, tracing the lines of her face with an open seriousness that would have been impossible to miss. He was a hunter, that much was clear.

At the mention of Taiga, his smile grew wide, a swath of white against the black of his lips. “What luck,” he practically growled, his voice low and throaty. “I had just visited Taiga’s borders. I’d been considering a new home.” He tilted his heavy-jawed head toward her, lips flipping in one corner. “I have to say that it is even more,” a pause as he savored the word, “tempting now that I know who also calls it home.”

Of course, such plans could be tricky, depending on just what she was hiding from him, but he rolled with it. He had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. He was, and would always be, unabashed of his nature; he lived lavishly and selfishly, taking life’s pleasures as they came. If they came in the form of a grey mare with secrets in her green eyes, then he would not feel bad for indulging in them.

Still, for a moment, just a moment, the conversation turned, the mention of the bear bringing a shadow to her face. “Never had much taste for bear,” he said easily, shrugging his powerful shoulders. “I would be happy to stick to the deer.” He was grateful when she rolled on, letting the moment of tension slide as she began to guess at his abilities. His laugh was low and thick rolling from his tongue. “Is it that obvious?”

He didn’t bother to hide his amusement at her looking at him. Not that he minded. Alek was well aware that he had been graced with swarthy good looks, dark as midnight minus rare patches of ivory. “Panther indeed.” He gave a rakish grin. “Or, I was, until it was taken from me.” He had resented that—resented that his very nature had been cleaved in two, the predator ripped from him and held apart. “I have every intention of getting it back.” At the mention of her own abilities, he made a low noise of interest in his throat, studying her openly, gaze moving along the lines that drew her up until they found her eyes.

“I think I would very much like to see that.”

Aleksandr

well, I'm a lion in the haze and the lamb in the lightning
oh, these spears and chains of flames around my neck are tightening

He murmured low as she discussed the forest, as she talked of how the way of life was there. It was unusual but he didn't mind, and while his interest peaked at the mention of the magician and her husband, his strange eyes sharpening on her, he let it slide. If she was the magician he would let the woman have her secrets, let her have her mysteries. It was more fun to have her out here alone regardless.

"I don't mind the silence," his eyes leveled with her, mischievous grin ghosting around his mouth, "although you will find that I am much better at breaking it." And he was. She'd find that out in due time.

At her compliments, he grinned, no inch of shame or discomfort crossing his features, no feeble attempt at brushing off the observations. Instead, he let them sink in, simply nodding and rolling his shoulder. "Astute," for at least some of it. It wasn't difficult to make note of his good looks, but it did take some mental brain power to narrow it down to cat and then panther, some level of know-how. "Although I will say that I would make a fine looking house cat." A swarthy smile breaking across his face in good humor.

He didn't like to linger on his anger at the removal of his traits, these things that make him him. It was that very rage that had sent him catapulting through the trees that day, the reason his body was still slick with sweat, but he didn't want to focus on it. Not here. Not with her. Instead he just shrugged, eyes only brightening at her offer. "Oh, I think that I would like to hunt alongside you very much."

As she shifted, he didn't bother to hide his appraisal, his eyes hungrily searching over her, his belly tightening with excitement. "You are marvelous, Reagan," his voice was huskier, eyes gleaming with his approval as he studied her in this shape, moving from her tail to her powerful shoulders and then to her wolfish green eyes. "You are magnificent in both forms," he offered the compliment casually, a cigarette he flicked to the side with both confidence and sincerity. "But to see you harness that power..."

His voice trailed off and his eyes turned molten.

"It is attractive as hell."

Aleksandr

well, I'm a lion in the haze and the lamb in the lightning
oh, these spears and chains of flames around my neck are tightening

There is an internal battle waging within her, something that rolled in her belly, flashed in her eyes, even as she melted beneath his gaze. He found it interesting, a puzzle, a knot that he scratched at, easing his way around it until it gave, until she came undone, until he figured her out. But he was a patient man, or he was at least right now, and he did not mind the journey of it—did not mind waiting, even though there was a restlessness about him, a need to consume, a need to move and devour. He found himself content to wait, to feel the tension building, her navigating the path of her mind; he found himself content to wait.

The final step had to be hers, he knew. She had to be the one to direct this ship.

As she shifted back into her true form, his gaze remained ravenous, that molten heat never leaving it. He watched as her grey deepened, darkened into a color that matched more of his own, and while it solidified his suspicions about her being the magician of the forest more, he didn’t speak of it. She had mysteries that she wanted to keep, and far be it from him to disallow a lady her desires. If she didn’t want to divulge certain secrets with him, he would not pry. Heaven knows that he had his own from time to time.

Still, the corner of his mouth quirked at what she said, a familiar hunger stirring in his chest. “There is more than obvious power,” practically a whisper as he tilted his head. The power to undo a woman, to watch armor come sliding off, piece by piece—was that not power? He thought so, his handsome face growing more serious as he reached out, the velvet of his damp nose hovering over her flesh, the sweat from his run still beading on the thin skin. His breath rolled over her neck as he lingered, drawing in her scent, committing it to memory. He turned hunter here, focused, determined, strange eyes sharp.

And then, a challenge, growled into the night air:

“If it is happiness you want, why do you not come and claim it?”

Aleksandr