NARRATOR

Theron held the lioness’s sturdy body and sat down with her draped over his thick thighs.

His feral eyes locked on a bloodstain on the ground. Searching, he found she had a wound on one side of her head.

"At least the bleeding stopped," he muttered, chest tight with worry as he felt the dried fluid.

Why was he so desperate to save this animal?

"Kham, do you feel anything special?" Theron asked his wolf while his rough lycan hands searched through all that golden fur.

She had bruises and maybe a few fractures from that violent fall.

"It’s confusing… I feel she’s special somehow, but I can’t see inside her… she smells delicious, I like gardenias."

Theron found himself burying his muzzle in her furry neck and breathing in deep.

The creamy, perfumed scent flooded his senses, making every pore of his skin tingle.

Theron frowned; he knew there were other continents with rare creatures—he’d have to ask about this lioness.

But first, he would give her his blood; he hoped it wouldn’t