Mated To The Ruthless Savanna King

Franco dragged the gazelle with a strength born of pure terror. He reached the hollowed-out ostrich nest, where Sean and Roy greeted him with excited chirps.

There was no time for celebration.

"No," he growled, a low, urgent command that cut through their excitement. He shoved them away from the carcass. "We leave. Now."

He ripped a large, bloody chunk from the gazelle's hind leg, clamped it in his jaws, and started running, motioning for the cubs to follow. They were heading for the relative safety of the termite mound.

The wind shifted again. A new scent, colder and sharper than Edwardo's, filled the air.

The grass in front of them rustled. Three lionesses fanned out, blocking their path.

The leader was a one-eyed female named Maud. To her left was Gerta, her face a mask of brutish aggression. On the right, the younger, leaner Cassia circled, cutting off their only escape route. They were Edwardo's wives, the enforcers of his kingdom.

Gerta's eyes locked onto the meat in Franco's mouth. She let out a greedy snarl and charged.

Franco dropped the meat, placing his body between the lioness and his cubs. He hissed, trying to look bigger, more threatening.

It was a pathetic bluff, and Maud wasn't buying it. Her single eye, cold and merciless, sized him up as she advanced slowly, savoring the moment.

Franco's mind was a whirlwind of calculations. Fight? He'd be dead in seconds. Run? They'd pick off the cubs before he'd gone ten feet.

It was a checkmate.

He looked down at Sean and Roy, huddled behind his legs, trembling. A fierce, desperate resolve hardened his heart.

He threw his head back and let out a roar. It wasn't a cheetah's hiss or a lion's growl. It was a sound of pure, defiant rage, so unexpected that it made the three lionesses pause for a fraction of a second.

In that moment of hesitation, he activated the change.

The golden light flared, and the cornered cheetah was gone. In his place stood the naked, upright ape-thing.

The lionesses' brains stuttered. Their instincts had no file for this.

Franco didn't give them time to think. He bent down, scooped up a handful of dirt and dust, and flung it directly at Maud's good eye.

She roared in pain and surprise, shaking her head, momentarily blinded. The perfect encirclement was broken.

He didn't scream. He focused his entire will, pushing a single, frantic thought toward them with all his might: RUN! MOUND! NOW!

The cubs flinched as the mental command hit them, a wave of pure terror and love. They didn't need to be told twice.

Gerta recovered and started after them.

To draw her attention, Franco grabbed the nearest rock and hurled it with all his might. It struck Gerta square on the nose.

A wet, crunching sound. Blood sprayed. The lioness shrieked, the pain driving her into a frenzy. All thoughts of the cubs vanished, replaced by a singular, murderous focus on the creature that had hurt her.

Franco saw the hate in her eyes and knew his plan had worked.

He turned and ran, heading in the opposite direction from his sons.

Cassia and a now-recovered Maud joined the chase. Three furious lionesses, hell-bent on tearing apart the strange, naked monster that had appeared in their territory.

Franco crashed through the undergrowth, thorns and branches tearing at his bare skin, leaving bloody trails. He didn't feel the pain. He just ran.

He used his human mind, his ability to see patterns and predict trajectories. He dodged, weaved, and used trees and rocks to block their charges. The lionesses' claws raked his back, the burning pain a constant reminder of how close they were.

His lungs felt like they were on fire. His legs were turning to lead. His vision started to tunnel.

And then he saw it.

Up ahead, the ground simply ended. A deep, dark chasm, a crack in the earth that stretched as far as he could see.

He was trapped.