The Choosing (13 page)

T
HE
hunt is very successful, but bloody. Serim and Jerath take down two deer each and the hunters another six. The animals are taken back to camp to be dressed and wrapped, and Meren and a few of the others head down to the nearby river to clean up.

“Are you coming?” Meren walks over to Jerath and waves a finger at all the blood on his fur. “You could wash all that off before you shift back.”

Serim doesn’t wait for Jerath, she just pushes past him and heads down to the water. Torek laughs and wanders after her. “I guess that’s a yes, then.”

“Come on.” Meren gestures for Jerath to walk with him and they follow after Serim and Torek, side by side.

The water is cool and refreshing and Jerath bounds into the stream, splashing Meren and Torek as he jumps about. The men crouch down and wash their faces and arms, and then wipe the blood from their knives.

Serim is quick to clean herself and head back to the tent, and Jerath decides to let her have a little time alone to get dry and dressed. They may be used to seeing each other naked, but that doesn’t mean they don’t like their privacy too.

One by one, Meren’s men head back to camp until it’s just Meren, Torek, and Jerath.

Torek clears his throat and looks between the two of them. “I’ll go see if they’ve started the fire yet.” He gives Meren a knowing look and Jerath is so glad he can’t blush in this form. They both watch Torek until he disappears over the hill and out of sight.

Meren turns to Jerath and walks out a little farther into the water until he’s standing in front of him. “You’ve missed a bit.” He bends down so he can scoop up some water and washes the side of Jerath’s neck, working his way up to just behind Jerath’s ears.

Meren’s hands are firm and strong, and Jerath purrs as he works his fingers through the thick fur. It’s the second time today that Meren’s hands have been on him, and Jerath has still yet to feel them on his skin. He imagines it now: strong fingers massaging his shoulders, moving down his back and settling low on his hips.

He wonders if Meren would slide them over his wet skin, around and over his stomach before dipping down lower. Jerath is concentrating so hard on the visual of Meren touching his body that before he knows what’s happened, he’s shifted back and now stands dripping wet and very naked
in the water.

Meren freezes and stares at Jerath, mouth open and eyes wide, and he doesn’t move for several moments. Jerath starts to feel self-conscious about his lack of clothing and Meren has yet to say anything, and so he moves to cover himself.

Meren reaches out quickly and grasps his wrist. “Don’t.” He tugs Jerath closer to him and Jerath swallows thickly.

Their bodies are only a few inches apart. Meren is still fully clothed, though, and Jerath’s eager to see what’s under there. “You have blood just”—Jerath runs his hand down the open front of Meren’s shirt—“here.” Meren smiles and licks his lips. “And here.” Jerath lets his hand drop lower and trails his fingertips over the jut of Meren’s hips. “You should take your clothes off and wash them.”

Meren sucks in a breath and Jerath can clearly see the growing bulge in his breeches. Jerath doesn’t have to look down to know that his own cock is erect. He slides his hand over the curve of Meren’s ass and starts to pull at his clothes. He’s not usually this forward, but Meren makes him bold.

“Jerath…,” Meren whispers, and fists his hands in Jerath’s hair. He yanks him closer and kisses him, his mouth eager and insistent. Jerath moans as their hips rub against each other, and he feels that they’re both fully hard now.

“These… off.” Jerath breaks the kiss, and Meren laughs at they both struggle to get him out of his wet clothes.

Finally they get them all off and Jerath tosses them onto the bank. Meren reaches for him and wraps his arms around Jerath’s back. He draws him in and they’re kissing again, but it’s so much better now Jerath can feel skin on skin.

Jerath slides his hands up into Meren’s hair. It’s surprisingly soft between his fingers, and he grips it tight and deepens the kiss. He’s never kissed anyone like this before. It’s hot and dirty, and Jerath lets Meren take control as he maps the inside of Jerath’s mouth with his tongue and his hands move down to grip Jerath’s ass.

Jerath thanks whichever Goddess allowed him to have this as Meren tugs him impossibly closer, but when he slides his finger down between Jerath’s ass cheeks, Jerath tenses. No one has touched him there yet. His first instinct is to freeze and pull away, but Meren smiles against Jerath’s mouth and moves his hands back to the safer territory of Jerath’s hips.

“Sorry,” Jerath mumbles. He breaks the kiss and drops his head onto Meren’s shoulder and feels his face heat up.

“It’s okay.” Meren runs his tongue along the smooth skin of Jerath’s throat. “There’s no rush.” Jerath sighs and lets Meren’s touches wash away his embarrassment.

None of the male shifters have facial hair—a fact that Serim and Mahli are constantly thankful for and Jerath never really understood why they were until now. He can feel the scrape of Meren’s stubble against his neck and knows it’s going to be red enough for people to notice. But when Meren licks and bites, soothing the skin with his tongue afterward, Jerath doesn’t care who sees it.

Meren nudges gently against Jerath’s throat, and he obliges and tilts it to the side. Meren hums with approval and bites at the top of Jerath’s shoulder, and Jerath grins—he thought he was supposed to be the animal here. Meren grinds his hips, and the head of Jerath’s cock catches on the skin of Meren’s stomach. A spike of pleasure shoots up Jerath’s spine and he moans.

The need to touch is almost overwhelming, and Jerath pulls away a little so he can snake his hand in between them. It’s not the first time he’s done this with another man, but when his fingers wrap around Meren’s cock, it feels as though it is. Jerath’s not sure why, he’s only known Meren for a little over a day, but this time it somehow means more.

Jerath lets out a shaky breath. His nerves start to get the better of him again, and he’s about to pull away when Meren’s hand covers his.

“Here,” Meren whispers. “Let me help.” Warm breath washes over Jerath’s skin, and it sends goose bumps down his spine.

Meren adjusts his grip and makes him take hold of both of them. He urges Jerath to move with a squeeze of his fingers, and they start off with a slow drag of hands up and down. They do it over and over until they’re slick with precome and Jerath feels his orgasm approaching, a tight coil in the pit of his stomach.

“Meren….” Jerath bites his lip in an effort to be quiet. The camp is within shouting distance, and he doesn’t want everyone to know what they’re up to. “I’m close.”

Meren moans, his strokes getting faster and when he bites into Jerath’s shoulder and comes over both their hands, Jerath can do nothing but follow straight after him.

“T
ELL
me about your village,” Jerath says, and turns his head to face Meren. “Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do you look like your mother or your father?”

They’re lying on the bank of the river, the grass is soft underneath them, and the sun is warm on their skin. Meren’s clothes are drying on a nearby rock, so they’re both naked.

“One at a time, please.” Meren grins and pokes Jerath in his side. “My village, Chastil, is beautiful. It’s surrounded on all sides by rich grasslands, and in the summer all kinds of wildflowers fill them with color. I have my own house there. It’s not as big as some of them, but it was given to me by my father when I came of age.”

“You don’t live with your family?” Jerath asks. In Eladir it’s customary to live with your family until you meet your mate, and Jerath can’t imagine living on his own.

A look of sadness flashes in Meren’s eyes, and Jerath wonders what he’s said to cause such a reaction.

Meren takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “My mother died when I was very young, before she had the chance to give me any brothers or sisters.”

Jerath twines his fingers with Meren’s and squeezes them a little in silent support. Meren smiles, but keeps his eyes closed.

“My father says I have her eyes and her smile, but the rest is all him.”

Meren opens his eyes then and Jerath’s breath catches. They’re so very blue and Jerath could easily get lost in them. He imagines that Meren’s mother must have been beautiful.

“I’m sorry about your mother.” Jerath inches closer and presses a soft kiss to Meren’s lips.

“Thank you. It was a long time ago, but I still miss her.”

Jerath understands that only too well. “My father was killed five years ago and I miss him every day.”

Meren hooks his arm around Jerath’s shoulders and pulls him against his chest. They lie there in silence and let the warm sun soothe them.

“We’d better head back soon or Torek is likely to come looking for us.” Meren props himself up on one elbow and smiles over at Jerath, all traces of sadness gone from his face. “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” He looks pointedly at Jerath’s naked body, and Jerath blushes as he suddenly realizes he doesn’t have any clothes. “I’ll need to shift here. My clothes are back at the tent.”

Jerath starts to stand but Meren grabs his hand. He looks up and smiles, before pulling Jerath down on top of him. “I said soon.”

J
ERATH
shifts for the walk back to camp, and when they approach the fire in the middle, most of Meren’s men are seated around it, and Jerath is suddenly very glad that he’s in his jaguar form. The whistles and catcalls that greet them would have had him blushing furiously if he was human. But now he just growls and bares his teeth, secretly pleased that the men shut up quickly and back away as he stalks past them to Serim’s tent.

Once inside, Serim smirks at him and raises an eyebrow. She waits for him to shift back and get dressed before she pats the bed beside her. “Sit and tell me everything.” Jerath tries to look innocent as he drops down next to her. He knows he’s failed when she just smiles and nudges him in the ribs. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Jerath!”

He grins at her and laughs as she punches him in the arm. “Okay, okay. We kissed.”

“And?”

“And…
other
stuff.” Jerath’s not sure that he actually wants to tell her everything in detail but Serim is insistent.

“What sort of stuff?”

“
Come
on
, Serim,” Jerath pleads. “We… you know….”

“Did you two have sex?” Serim’s eyes are wide now and Jerath shakes his head quickly.

“Well, not
sex
sex.” Serim looks skeptical, so Jerath elaborates. “The camp’s not far from the stream, anyone could have come back and found us.”

She nods, but Jerath can tell she’s still eager for details. “Ugh, Serim, you are the worst friend, do you know that?”

She smiles sweetly and slips her arms around his waist. “You love me, though. So just tell me.”

Jerath lets out a defeated sigh. “There was nakedness, and touching, and well… you can guess the rest.”

Serim laughs and hugs him tight. “Yes, okay. I get the idea. I’m so happy for you, Jerath.”

“Yeah, me too.” Jerath smiles as he thinks about Meren’s hands on him and tries not to dwell on what might happen after they talk to Meren’s father. He’s just going to enjoy himself for however long this lasts.

B
Y
THE
time Jerath and Serim leave their tent, there’s a roaring fire at the center of the camp and a large deer roasting above the flames. Some of the meat has been carved already, and the hunters already seated around the fire dig in as they chat among themselves. They glance up when Serim and Jerath approach, some looking a little nervous after Jerath growled at them earlier.

Although most of the camp are sitting and eating, Jerath can’t see Meren among them, but he does notice Torek sitting off to the side on the trunk of an uprooted tree. He nudges Serim and nods over in Torek’s direction. She takes the hint, heading over and settling beside him with Jerath following after her.

“Help yourself to some food,” Torek says and gestures at one of the men. The man nods and grabs two wooden plates from a stack on the ground next to him.

Serim starts to stand again but Jerath stops her with a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get these, you stay and relax.” She smiles up at him and he walks over to collect their food. It smells delicious again, and Jerath’s stomach grumbles loudly, causing the men closest to him to laugh.

The man carving the meat—Jerath thinks his name is Harik—raises an eyebrow at him and adds an extra cut to one of the plates. “Sounds like you’ll be needing this.” He grins and Jerath smiles back in thanks. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he’d smelled the meat close up. Harik adds a chunk of bread and a handful of berries before handing them both over.

Jerath thanks him again and takes them back over to Serim. She looks at the meat piled higher on one of the plates, but Jerath’s stomach rumbles again and she just laughs at him and takes the smaller portion. They eat in comfortable silence for a while, until Jerath has filled his belly with enough food to keep it quiet and he leans back on his hands to give it a bit of a rest.