“I’ll stay,” Aurum replied, and he settled in against Furion. Although he should have stepped up his game and started trying to seduce the man, he couldn’t quite bring himself to, now. A contented weariness was settling into his body now, aided by the intense comfort that he felt from being in contact with Furion. Several times, Aurum opened his eyes to look up at Furion again – not to reassure himself that the other was there, but to enjoy looking at him one more time. When Aurum finally fell asleep, he went out purring, utterly content.
Come morning, the camp was much quieter than it had been the night before. Most of the cats and their kin were still sleeping, or sluggishly beginning to move while groaning over headaches and hangovers. The forest still tasted of smoke from the great bonfire, but it slowly began to smell of sweeter smoke as fresh flames began to lick their way around pots and spits, as breakfast slowly began to come together in a dozen places. Aurum listened for a while, but he was more interested in just listening to the steady heartbeat of the lion he’d fallen asleep with.
The two of them had kept each other comfortably warm through the night and so, despite the chill morning, Aurum was comfortable. The truth was though that even if it had been snowing, even if it had been pouring down rain, a hundred degrees below, he still would have stayed, if Furion wanted him to. The older man had completely ensnared him and he knew it, but Aurum had no regrets. After all, it was somewhat his fault, considering he had walked up, flirted, and then refused to leave.
Seeing that Furion was still asleep, he closed his eyes and purred quietly for a few minutes to let his new companion know that he was awake but that all was well. Eventually, though, Aurum had to get up. He was often restless, and hadn’t been still for that long in ages. Besides, the thought of bathing sounded nice, and the river wasn’t very far away.
With one more purr, Aurum got up. He rubbed his cheek against Furion’s, eyes closed, and sighed softly against his hair before finally standing and making his way down to the river. The water was cold, but so clear and clean that on a morning like this, it was pure invitation. Aurum climbed up onto one of the large, rough boulders and stood at the top of it, admiring the view of the forest around them. Tiny tendrils of smoke curled up from their peoples’ cooking fires, catching the early morning sunlight and turning into magical, graceful shapes. The thick leaves were turning into brilliant fall colors all around – as far as the eye could see, the land was covered in a blanket of red and golden colors, rustling in the breeze. As he looked out at the beautiful wilderness, Aurum’s heart felt full to the brim with the love he always carried for his people, for their way of life, for everything that they were. Although he had spent most of his life away from their people, he had never once failed to love them. He had spent years in private combat training with a tiger – one of the most physically powerful creatures he’d ever met, an elusive and arrogant creature named Xanon – who had also spoken of their people with the purest love, furthering Aurum’s own devotion. The tiger had told him every story of their people that he knew, had told him of traditions that had been lost, had taught him every song and every name, and Aurum had loved learning that just as much as he had loved the painful physical training. Eventually, though, he had to leave – he knew his place wasn’t with the dangerous tiger, but was out in the wide world. He had gone out wandering, heart open, soul clean, and had never regretted a day. Everywhere that he wandered, every family he met with the lion blood in them, had only deepened Aurum’s love. He would do anything for their people – for any one of them, for all of them. That was what he had been born for, that was how he had voluntarily raised himself – and it was why he had finally come back, come out of seclusion.
Finally, he looked down at the river, which ran deep and slow here. He could see fish swimming around in the crystal clear water, shimmering silver shapes that seemed to hover before suddenly flashing and darting away, startled by the shadow of a bird, or some movement of the river, unknowable to him. Aurum smiled and was still for a while, just watching them. Eventually, he stripped out of his clothing and dove from where he was, reveling in the shock of the icy water as he plunged into it. Although his intention had been to bathe, once he was in the river, all Aurum wanted to do was swim.
After a while, he heard the voices of a group of young men he’d met the night before as they approached the river. One of them called to him in a friendly greeting and gestured to him. Aurum swam over. None of them looked like they were inclined to swim, a little too hungover and grouchy for that, but he was glad of their invitation.
“How are you already swimming?” one asked.
“The Prince can do anything,” Cyril, the oldest of the six friends, said with a laugh and a smile, although there was something unfriendly in the brief glance he gave Aurum. Still, he reached out and gave him a hand to pull him up and out of the river. “Can’t you, Prince?”
“You don’t need to call me that,” Aurum answered, shrugging and standing on the rocky beach with them.
“No? Everyone else does. It’s a stupid title, though. You’re not the prince of anything.”
“No,” Aurum said, straightening his shoulders as Cyril walked behind him. “I’m not. Is there a problem, Cyril?” He didn’t like the way the man had almost immediately shifted into a predatory mode, nor did he miss that, now that Cyril had set the tone, the other five young men had picked it up.
“A problem? No. No problem. At least, not until you showed up. Look at you. Look at your body. You’re perfect. Aurum. The golden prince. You know, until you decided to come back and rejoin your people, the women looked at us. They looked at us. And then last night, here you are, you and your perfectly golden skin, your golden hair, your sunlight smile. And you don’t even care. You spent the night with him. With the deviant.”
Aurum growled, a much lower and more menacing sound than any of them had anticipated, and the group of them all stepped away from him at once, although they didn’t actually leave. “You should have more respect for your elders, Cyril,” he said, his voice hard.
“I’m older than you are, prince.”
“I was talking about Furion. And you need to back off, Cyril. Stop circling me.”
“Or what?” the black-haired man snarled, his eyes gleaming green for a moment.
“Or I’ll make you stop,” Aurum replied, not an ounce of fear in his voice.
“Yeah? Going to fight all six of us?”
“Naked. Cold. Outnumbered. You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t taught to run from cowards.”
Cyril stopped in his tracks, right behind Aurum, and bared his teeth. “What did you just call me, little prince?”
“Pretty sure you heard me.” Aurum shrugged.
Cyril reached out and put his hands on Aurum’s shoulders, surprised at how warm they were despite him having come out of a cold river. He squeezed once, then leaned close enough to purr his next words right into Aurum’s ear. “We will.”
By the time that a knife was pulled, two of the men were unconscious. Cyril’s group had been losing and they knew it, and they decided to take things to the next level all at once. Cyril pulled a knife out and attempted to plunge it into Aurum’s shoulder while the others shifted – but Aurum twisted out of the way and grabbed him by the wrist and upper arm. He snapped Cyril’s arm with one brutal twist at the elbow, but then a heavy feline body slammed into him – and Aurum’s head cracked loudly against a rock. In an instant, blood was flowing.
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