The Lynx Who Claimed the Sun (13 page)

Garth’s tongue wormed its way inside Nicolas’s passage, gently
preparing the way for a harsher invasion. Nicolas pushed back
against his mate, fucking Garth’s face, loving every minute of it. He’d
almost reached the brink of climax even without touching himself.

God, that tongue drove him wild, piercing him like a little, strikingly
flexible cock. Every nerve in Nicolas’s body was alight with need and
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sensation. Soon, he was reduced to incoherent mumblings, no longer
able to even string two sentences together.

Not that it mattered. Garth always knew what he needed and knew
the exact moment when to take Nicolas on the highest peaks. Indeed,
moments later, Garth removed his tongue from Nicolas’s anus and
kissed his nape. “Ready, love?” he asked in a husky tone.

Nicolas could only nod. He bit his lip as Garth positioned his
prick at his hole and pushed in. Relaxed by the rimming session, his
muscles yielded to the skilful penetration. In one single motion, Garth
slid home.

The sensation of being impaled felt even more amazing than
Nicolas remembered. He might have tried to stay quiet, but Garth’s
cock hit his prostate and Nicolas’s mind melted in a shower of stars.

Wild with lust, Nicolas thrust back against his mate, needing more
of the delicious penetration. He let out a keening chirp when Garth
pulled out, but it was swallowed by his own scream when his lover
thrust back inside. God, he couldn’t get enough. Garth’s prick
stretched him so perfectly, reaching depths no one had ever reached.

They simply fit together.

Tears streamed down Nicolas’s face as the sexual pleasure mixed
with emotional fulfillment. And then, Garth reached in front of
Nicolas and enclosed his dick in a tight fist. Nicolas couldn’t take it
anymore. Crying out his mate’s name, he came, his orgasm sweeping
through him like a tidal wave.

When he began to recover, Nicolas opened his eyes, wanting more than ever to tell Garth the words he’d never had the courage to say.

But as his vision focused, he found himself all alone in his dark, damp cell.

At first, his reality didn’t truly process. After all, how could he have possibly thought he had Garth with him in such an awful place?

Perhaps his orgasm had short-circuited his brain cells and he couldn’t take in his environment anymore.

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But any attempt of self-deception was in vain, and Nicolas finally acknowledged the truth. He remained in captivity, in a deep, dark hole in the ground where time had no meaning and daylight never reached.

The only reason why Nicolas even acknowledged the weeks he’d spent buried here was that the sun outside called out to him and his inner calendar marked every passing day, every time the beautiful sphere of flame disappeared for the night.

He’d given up on ever being found, but much to his dismay, his dreams of Garth never ceased. His only comfort was that the loneliness his captors abandoned him in meant that no one would see him in the throes of a wet dream.

Nicolas chuckled bitterly to himself. Could he get even more pathetic and ridiculous? Here he was, at the end of his entire life, having sex dreams about Garth. How strange that nightmares plagued him when he’d been free and living by Garth’s side, and now, when those nightmares had come true, he would lose himself in reveries of Garth.

He still wondered what was going to happen to him. Other than the occasional servant who brought him his meals, no one ever came to see him. His family hadn’t visited him again since his father’s appearance. His mother hadn’t showed up, and the only familiar voice he heard from time to time was Alonso’s.

Nicolas leaned against the cool wall and closed his eyes. It didn’t make much difference—even with his eyes open, he couldn’t see a thing—but somehow, keeping them closed soothed him. He remembered the images from his dreams and wondered what Garth was doing. Had the lynx forgotten about him already? What about the kits? Were they happy they’d gotten rid of Nicolas?

He was startled from his musings when he suddenly heard loud voices outside. It was odd, since whenever someone spoke, they were very careful to keep the volume low so that he wouldn’t overhear.

“It’s not time for it yet,” Nicolas’s father was saying. “We need to wait.”

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“We can’t wait any longer,” another voice answered. Nicolas identified it as belonging to the elder hummingbird.

“But, Elder, you know it yourself,” a woman protested. “The next eclipse is in more than a decade. It’s useless.”

Nicolas recognized the woman as his mother, and his heart ached as memories began to assault him again. He pushed them all away and tried to focus on the conversation taking place outside.

“Are you questioning me?” the elder shot back. Even from his isolated room, Nicolas could hear the anger in the tone.

“Of course not, Elder,” Nicolas’s mom answered, “but you have to understand that there’s no need for Nico-Chi—”

She didn’t get to finish the phrase. Nicolas heard her cry out and knew the elder had hurt her somehow. “Silence,” the old hummingbird said. “You two are weak. This is why your son ended up a coward and shamed your family.

“I will not allow him to skirt his responsibility again. With these intruders upon us, we need the help of the guards to stave the invasion.”

“Elder, I’m sure our warriors can handle whatever the ocelots can throw at us,” Nicolas’s father tried to say. “It’s probably nothing.”

“The ocelots have never been so daring before. Furthermore, our men haven’t contacted us since they left, so I must assume the worse.

I did plan to wait until the next eclipse to do this, but circumstances have changed. We need help.”

A mix of hope and dread swirled in Nicolas’s chest. From what he could tell, someone had invaded hummingbird lands. Nicolas didn’t know how, but he knew it was Garth coming to rescue him.

On the other hand, the elder seemed determined to hurt him.

Nicolas wasn’t sure what doing his duty entailed, but it didn’t take a genius to realize he wouldn’t like it very much.

The door opened and at last, the elder walked in, followed by guards. Nicolas’s mother and father were in the doorway. “Take him,”

the elder hummingbird said.

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There were too many guards for Nicolas to try a daring escape. He had an incredible feeling of déjà-vu, but he couldn’t quite grasp the memory just within his reach. In the end, he allowed the soldier to manhandle him out of the dark cell.

Outside, his father and mother were waiting. Nicolas couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved when he saw the tears in his mom’s eyes. It wasn’t that he wanted her to be in pain, but selfishly, he acknowledged the fact that this sorrow meant she still loved him.

Even his dad who’d been so angry when he’d come to see Nicolas, even he seemed heartbroken.

Of course, this meant something very bad would happen soon.

Nicolas straightened his spine and readied himself for the worse. He would need every ounce of his remaining strength if he wanted to get out of here alive.

The guards directed him on a stone staircase, and they emerged in a sunny grove. Nicolas’s eyes hurt from all the light after being in absolute darkness for weeks. Even so, the rays of the sun did wonders for his mood. Perhaps he’d be able to release himself after all.

A hard nudge from a guard reminded him of the seriousness of the situation. Between nudges and pushes, Nicolas was led from the grove toward a huge pyramid.

Nicolas had grown up around the pyramids of his ancestors. He remembered coming to the sacred temples many times. However, this particular one seemed to spark something inside him, the same apprehension that had been with him ever since he’d heard the voice of the elder.

He might have tried to escape, but all of a sudden, the older hummingbird was right by his side. The other man didn’t speak.

Instead, he blew a strange dust all over Nicolas’s face. A haze began to cloud Nicolas’s senses, and he distantly heard the elder say, “I’m not taking any chances this time.”

The guards dragged his now-pliant body toward the pyramid and over the stairs. Nicolas’s muscles had gone completely lax, and he
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couldn’t make himself protest anything they were doing. He remained completely unresisting as the soldiers strapped him down to a cold slab of stone. Priests emerged around him, taking position over his wrists and ankles.

Finally, the elder loomed above Nicolas. In his hands, he held a large, black dagger. The rays of the sun twinkled over the dark blade, and just like that, Nicolas remembered.

1991, somewhere in Mexico

The pyramid shone brightly in the morning sun, drawing
Nicolas’s gaze. “Why are we here?” he asked his father.

“You’re here to receive the greatest honor of all, to fulfill your
duties to our people.”

Nicolas smiled. The past year, since coming of age, had been a
dream. Everyone had honored him as if he were a great leader. It was
amazing, but Nicolas sometimes felt bad because he hadn’t actually
done anything special to deserve it.

Like the other young men his age, he’d become a warrior. Now,
he protected his clan’s lands from invading shape-shifters. The
ocelots could be particularly wicked. It hadn’t always been pleasant,
and Nicolas could still remember the sick feeling he’d experienced
when he’d first killed a man. But here in the rainforest, they were
perpetually at war. Even with all the effort he’d put into his given
tasks, he still didn’t feel he’d earned the honors his clan showered
him with. Perhaps he would now be granted the opportunity to repay
his family and his kind.

His father led Nicolas over the stairs of the secret pyramid. It was
among the few temples still left untouched by human hand, and
hummingbirds protected it zealously as it was dedicated to their sun
god, Huitzilopochtli. Other such pyramids existed in the area, but they
were guarded by different types of shifters, like their long-term
enemies, the ocelots.

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As they advanced on the staircase, Nicolas began to wonder why
he’d been brought here. Darkness began to fall over the area.

Nicolas’s heart started beating faster as the sun started to disappear.

“Father, look!”

His father didn’t seem surprised. Instead, he silently ushered
Nicolas inside. Nicolas was too shocked to even fight the far too
abrupt shoves.

It was only when he reached the very top of the pyramid that he
finally began to understand. A stone slab lay in the center, and in
front of it, five priests emerged, followed by guards. One of the priests
held a black, obsidian dagger.

Nicolas’s eyes widened at the sight of the weapon. He might not
know much about the outside world, but he had learned a lot of things
about the Aztec culture. He knew his ancestors sacrificed people when
darkness swallowed the sun at noon. And he knew he’d been the one
chosen as a sacrifice.

His body was limp, and he didn’t protest as his father and the
guards forced him on the slab. The other priests held him down, but
Nicolas couldn’t have moved even if they hadn’t immobilized him.

Technically speaking, he could still try to escape if he changed into
his second form. But the guards around him had firearms, and he
would probably be shot before he got too far.

A few moments passed while the priests said incantations. They
showered Nicolas’s body with flower petals, and once more, Nicolas
found himself invaded with the strange sense of heat. He felt drunk,
drunk on the potent nectar of the flowers. Why was he here again? He
couldn’t remember.

And then, the head priest lifted the black dagger above his head.

The last rays of the sun glinted off the blade. Just like that, a switch
went off in Nicolas’s head. In instants, he rolled off the slab and
pushed the priests away. Since he didn’t want to kill his own kind, he
didn’t go for life-threatening injuries as he fought his way through the
guards. There were so many of them, but at last, he managed to reach
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the edge. When he was sure he couldn’t be trapped, his body melted
into that of a hummingbird.

He might be making a mistake, and he might be betraying his
people and his religion. It wasn’t even that he feared death. He didn’t
want to die, no, but he’d been taught to accept it as natural in the
course of all existence. Even so, he didn’t believe his god, the god
he’d worshipped all his life, would want him to die.

Huitzilopochtli was the sun, and in his mind, he also meant life.

Besides, his mother had always spoken to him of the teachings of the
feathered serpent, the wise Quetzalcoatl. They went against such
barbaric sacrifices. True, Quetzalcoatl had chosen the sacrifice of
birds instead of humans, but shape-shifters weren’t the same as their
animal equivalents.

As he flew, the sun was completely swallowed into the darkness. A
few shots rang out, narrowly missing him. One of them grazed his
wing, and Nicolas began to have trouble flying. In this form, even a
scratch from a bullet could kill him.