For as long as he could remember this had been his life, following the orders of the so-called righteous men on their tyrannical crusade to destroy anything that didn’t fit or follow their faith. They tortured, killed, enslaved, all in the name of their one true God and though it made him heartsick, Remy often did the same to keep himself from ending up like those poor doomed creatures.
He didn’t know what he was, but he was more than a man. Stronger, faster, he could see in the dark, hear and smell things others couldn’t and they hated him for it, feared him. They kept him bound by the collar around his neck, a heavy silver thing bearing their pure white cross; ironic that it should be so clean when all Remy saw was the blood spilt trying to spread that symbol, their god even unto those that didn’t want it.
They said it was for his own good, to keep the demon inside him at bay, a last desperate attempt to save his soul, but he didn’t believe them. They lied to him, day after day, forcing him to kill the creatures they weren’t strong enough or brave enough to dispatch themselves. He wanted his freedom, and they dangled it in front of him, the prize at the end of their never-ending mission. He wasn’t fool enough to believe they would ever release him; they would see him dead before they would ever remove their binding. They used it to taunt him, a wound that wouldn’t heal as quickly as the ones they tried to leave on his skin.
Remy was tired, physically, mentally beaten down by these people, the life they forced on him, but he found solace in the traveling. Yes, they made him pack and haul their things, cook and clean for them, do all the menial tasks they felt too far beneath themselves, but such wonders he’d seen as he traversed the world behind their horses and wagons, and this was no different.
He was sure that he’d never seen a forest like this one, he would have remembered it surely if he had, but being here filled his heart with such longing. It was so easy here to ignore the insults and jeers of the clergy as he did his chores, what were they when compared to something so beautiful, so ancient?
It wasn’t something he could explain, but every breath he took felt as if it gave him new life. There were voices on the wind, a heartbeat beneath his feet, and that terrible, aching longing…
“You feel it then?” Asked the guide, a local man the priests had hired to lead them through the forest. He’d noticed Remy’s wide-eyed looks, the way his hand would occasionally rub absently at his chest as if trying to soothe a pain. “The loneliness of the forest.”
“Sad,” Remy said quietly, afraid to let the priests hear him discussing something they would consider blasphemous. “It’s so sad, sir. Why?”
“Because of them,” he said, jerking his head at the men gathered around the campfire. “This forest was alive once, sacred. It was said that it sustained and protected my people, human and beast, all that lived peacefully within it, but that changed with the coming of their One God. Their faith is a destroyer, and it ripped away the soul of this place. Now a tree is just a tree, a deer looks at you with lifeless eyes that can’t understand, and his sorrow permeates the earth, the air, even in the water you can taste his tears.”
“His sorrow?” Remy whispered, moving closer to keep their conversation quiet and to share the rabbit the man had graciously offered him from his own little fire. “What do you mean?”
“These men, your jailors, there have been many like them. They travel the world destroying anything sacred to the old ways, the old gods. This forest was home to such a one, and he protected it, protected us so long as we lived in harmony with the beasts of the land and sky, those that swam in the waters. Take no more than met our needs, give back to the earth and the water, honor the forest. We did, and for many generations the forest thrived, as did the tribes that followed his decree. Then they came and everything changed. The forest lives, but the spirit is gone. Our protector has lost his will to go on, and with each passing day, year after year, we see the forest decline as his presence grows weaker. As he succumbs to his grief.”
“But why, sir? What did they do to him?
“They stole his heart, ripped away the goodness inside and left a creature consumed by rage. That is all that remains of him, sorrow and vengeance. That is why they didn’t dare set foot here without a guide, but even that shall not save them. He will come, as he always does. Their kind is not welcome in this forest.”
“We are here to rid the world of an abomination,” a priest spat. “One that slaughters our brothers, but no longer. We have brought our own diaboli,” he gestured at Remy with a sneer. “He will free this land of this accursed creature and the forest will be safe for travelers once more.”
“It is only unsafe for those such as yourself,” the guide said, offence making his voice sharp. “Your kind invaded a place of peace, stole the very heart of this forest, and expected us all to bow down to your hateful worship. Even now he protects us from the likes of you, and every one of your ‘missionaries’ found in the woods is blood on your own hands.”
Remy tensed as the insult to their faith had the guards rising to their feet, hands going to their swords though the unarmed man was clearly no threat to them. He rose himself, taking a careful step between the guide and the priests, “There is no need for that,” he said, gesturing toward the guards. “He can do you no harm and hasn’t. Words bring you no pain, especially not from one that is overwhelmed in numbers by those that do not share his views.”
“But his words do bring pain, diaboli. It pains us to hear the spread of such heathen lies when we so generously offer a true route to salvation. You know we cannot let such go unpunished.”
“Then perhaps your salvation is heavy handed,” Remy snapped, “when it requires the threat of violence to enforce it. If your god is as merciful as you claim, you would leave the man be. He has done you no harm, and I won’t allow you to harm him simply because you do not like his words.”
The guards were there for the protection of the priests, but they were also a threat to keep him well behaved, and Remy wasn’t at all surprised to have their attention, and their blades, turned now to him. He wasn’t afraid, there was little they could do to him that would bring him lasting harm. What he was, however, was angry, enough so that he began to tremble with a rage borne of the oppression and hopelessness he had endured at their hands “I have killed for you,” he snarled, “I have let you turn me into the monster you think I am, but I won’t let you do this. I won’t stand here and let you hurt someone because he doesn’t share your beliefs.”
Other such instances flashed through his mind. Being held in chains while they slaughtered and enslaved innocents. Thrashing and snarling against his bonds as their silver burned him, but he had to try. It went against everything in him to sit idle as they spilled blood, but he’d had no choice. Their silver bound him, their cross bound him, and all he could do was weep for the lives taken before his eyes.
But not this time. There were no chains now and for the first time since they’d wrapped that damned collar around his neck, he felt that something other rise within him, to protect, to finally strike back against the only devils he’d ever seen. Not the beasts or the old gods they’d always set him on, but these tyrants masquerading as the righteous.
The sound that ripped from him in his fury had a few of the guards stumbling back in fear, and Remy lunged for the priest, a cardinal dressed in red, bright as fresh blood, and his cry of rage turned to one of pain. He crumbled to his knees, clawing at his throat as the collar, and the cross upon it, burned hot as fire.
“You forget yourself, diaboli,” the cardinal said, jerking Remy’s head back by the hair to gaze into eyes that blazed with hell fire. “My God binds you. So long as you wear His cross, you can do no harm to His children.”
“Your god has no power here.”
The voice echoed through the trees, deep and guttural, a snarl that vibrated in Remy’s chest and called to the other inside him. It helped his head to clear, his lungs to draw in much needed air, but the scent of fear rose on the air, and he suspected the priests didn’t find this presence so helpful after all. No, the cardinal rose to his feet, trembling in a way that made Remy downright giddy, and he yearned for a glance at the speaker. He wanted to see what could strike such fear into men more used to inflicting it.
“My God has beaten back the heathen ways,” the cardinal said into the vast wilderness around them. “Even now brothers are spreading across the world to stamp out the heretics hiding in places like this. As we have come to do to you.”
“Centuries you have tried to impress your god upon my people, and for centuries they have denied you. The only thing this forest holds for your ilk is death, in ways as bloody as my children can manage.”
At those words howls filled the quiet night, yowls and snarls ripped through the air, and eerie shrieking cries descended from the trees; the forest had come to life around them and something in Remy yearned even as eyes, glowing in the firelight, surrounded the campsite. He stared hard into the darkness, though he didn’t know what he searched for. It wasn’t the waiting wolves, the stalking cats, the clever foxes that crept close in the underbrush. Something else, something his soul was crying out for, but he couldn’t remember…
He found himself hauled to his feet, the cardinal’s hand twisted in his hair, and he growled out in pain, trying weakly to free himself. He’d never been so weak after being burned, but then he’d never been so intent on killing the man before.
“I have something my predecessors didn’t,” the cardinal said, holding the creature carefully in front of himself. “I will kill this abomination if we aren’t allowed passage through his God forsaken wilderness.”
“Indeed, you do,” the voice purred, echoed by the great cats circling the camp, “something your predecessors knew better than to bring within leagues of this place.” A man stepped into the firelight, a hunter for all appearances, but Remy knew better. There was a power to him, a wildness, and when those gleaming eyes settled on him, Remy whined with a desperation he couldn’t understand.
“Centuries,” the man whispered, stepping slowly closer, “I’ve yearned for what your kind stole from me. My heart, the soul of me… I mean to take it back.”
He threw his head back and howled and the answering voices of beast and bird thundered around them. Wolves leaped from the darkness to pounce upon the clergy, fang and claw tearing into soft flesh as hawks and owls swooped at guards, blinding them long enough for cunning foxes and thieving raccoons to deal with straps on armor and the knives tucked carelessly in belts and boot tops. Tripping on their own armor, they were no match for the cats that stalked them, soaking in the fear of their prey before they, too, descended upon their quarry.
Remy watched the carnage not with fear, but with fascination, a part of him longing to join in the hunt. He wanted to revel in the screams, the scent of blood, and everything in him yearned. He ached to join his brothers and sisters, but more, he yearned for strong arms, a mouth hot and hard and surprisingly gentle in its dominance. Memories that had tormented and sustained him in his dreams surged to the surface and he yowled his defiance, claws ripping through his fingertips even as the collar burned around his neck.
So many creatures had fallen to the power inside him, the speed and strength they had yoked for their cause, and now the claws they’d denied him ripped into the cardinal’s throat as he spun around, lashing out at his captor. Hot and sweet, he licked the blood from his lips where it had splattered all over him, purring out his satisfaction.
“There you are…”
Remy turned to face the man behind him, the god, he realized. A forest god… Slowly he shifted into a crouch, eyeing him curiously, cautiously, only to find himself buffeted on all sides. Excited yowls filled his ears and rough tongues brushed over his skin, cleaning him. Laughing breathlessly, Remy reached out, fingers brushing and petting at soft fur and strong bodies of the big cats that had dealt with the guards. Delight settled in his heart, and he purred back, rubbing his face against theirs.
Laughing still, he lifted his eyes to the god to find him watching, smiling at him so gently, and Remy rose reluctantly to his feet once more. “I know this place,” he said at last. “I recognized it as soon as we got here. I recognize you, though I don’t know how.”
“Don’t you, my heart?”
That startled him and Remy turned to the guide, all but forgotten in the chaos. “You said they stole his heart…”
“That they did,” the guide coughed out a laugh, fangs gleaming as he grinned. “The heart of a god, leopard-brother, protector. You have been missed.”
“I…don’t remember,” he said weakly, guilt weighing heavy on his heart. “Why can’t I remember?”
“They came for us, dear one," the god said, agony clear in his voice at the memory of that terribly day, "to destroy us and our home. We beat them back, drove them away, but they captured you and put that thing on you,” he gestured disgustedly at the collar. “I heard you cry out, saw you fall, but I couldn’t get to you. I tried, I swear to you. When I came to the boundary of the forest and could go no further, your brothers and sisters tracked you as far as they were able, but couldn’t get to you. Ever since we’ve been checking the others for signs of you, but they never dared bring you close. Until today.”
“Logan,” Remy breathed at last, rushing the last few steps to throw himself into his arms. He nuzzled into his throat, breathing him in while old memories overcame him.
He was out with the cubs, standing guard over their first hunt when he saw him, the lord of their forest. He’d bowed to him and turned his attention back to the cubs, but he couldn’t keep from sneaking glances at him. Remy had never seen him, though he was a friend to everyone who lived in the shelter of the trees, and he was intrigued. The man was a god to the humans, but he was sweet, even a little shy in certain circumstances, and Remy had been smitten.
The teasing had been merciless when he’d realized he was being courted, but he hadn’t minded at all. He was in love and nothing else mattered. Well, his family mattered of course, but other than that… His mate, his Logan. Well, Logan is what Remy called him as he refused to call him the ridiculous name the humans used for him. He remembered their bonding, staying in Logan’s den, accompanying him while he patrolled the forest. He remembered being by his side when another of Logan’s kind tried to take their territory, standing guard over his mate when he’d fallen ill after a terrible fire in the forest. There was so much coming back to him and he thought his heart might burst from it.
“Logan,” he said again, pulling him into a kiss. It had been so long since he’s kissed him, since he’d been in his arms. “I’ve missed you so, my love. They took my memories of you, but I always knew something was missing.”
“You’re home now,” Logan purred, waving off the creatures that were as excited as he was to have Remy back. He’d made an exception for the leopards, his mate’s brethren, but he would share him with no one else. Not yet. “They’ll never take you away from me again.”
“No,” Remy said, shuddering in his arms. “No, I’ll never go back. They turned me into a monster. They made me a killer…”
Logan held his mate tighter, nuzzling at him and wishing he could bring back the priests just to kill them again, slower and far more painfully. Remy was a predator in his other form, but killing for pleasure wasn’t in his nature. Harming an innocent wasn’t in his nature. He was a protector, one particularly fond of little ones, and to know that those creatures had made him kill for their own ends… The forest responded to his anger, the animals getting restless around them. “Nothing you did was your fault. It’s this thing,” he growled softly, brushing his fingers over the collar. They’d dared to collar his mate like he was some kind of pet. The thought did nothing to ease his anger. “How do we get it off of you?”
“It doesn’t come off, my love. I’ve tried.” They’d always punished him after, but he’d tried so many times over the years, often hurting himself terribly in the process. “They said only the church could remove it and they never would. They said it was all to atone for my sins. To repent for the evil inside me. I can’t get it off,” he said, feeling the panic rise inside him and reaching once more to scratch at his neck, whining desperately at the thought that he would be forever trapped like this. “Logan-”
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Logan said, hurrying to grab his mate’s hands. “Calm down, dear heart. It stops you from changing?” At Remy’s heartbroken nod, Logan smiled and gathered his cat close. “It can’t hold you here, love. Your claws came out while you were wearing it, remember? Their god has no power here,” he said again, his smile nearly feral. “This forest is mine, ours,” he corrected, tilting Remy's chin up to kiss him softly. “My power is yours, my Remy. My mate. Feel it, believe it. Take it off.”
With his mate wrapped around him, their family gathered close, Remy let himself relax, his eyes slipping closed to lose himself in the place he now remembered was his home. The wind stroking softly over his skin, the familiar smells of his love and cool, damp earth alive with green things, the creatures that were friends and family come to fight for him. He could hear the chattering of the night creatures, the bright, bubbling music of a nearby stream, all of it calmed him, centered him and when he opened his eyes, he could feel the cat in him shifting, eager to slip this skin and run free as he’d so long been denied.
Logan watched proudly as his cat reached up, his fear gone, and tore that blasted thing free of his neck. It guttered weakly in his palm, and Logan took it from him, casting it upon the ground to crush it beneath his boot. Where it belonged, he thought vehemently; never would such a cruel god have power enough to overcome the love the Earth granted her children, and with the help of a few excited wolf pups, he dug a hole and surrendered the relic to his mother.
The pleasure Logan received from watching a sweet, young seedling sprout over top of it was nothing to the pleasure he felt when he met his mate’s eyes and watched him give himself to his other form. His fierce cry of pleasure struck Logan’s heart and tears welled in his eyes as the gorgeous creature came to him, rubbing that strong, sleek body against him. He threw back his head to howl out his happiness that would not be contained and every creature in his domain raised their voices with him in a joyous cry of welcome and wonder.
Though the people that dwelled within the forest heard the cacophony – even their domesticated beasts wailed out their pleasure – they were not afraid. There was a sweetness on the air that hadn’t been there before, a symphony of wind through the trees. The moon went brighter, the water clearer, the forest came alive in a way they’d only heard in legends, and they knew. The heart of the forest had returned, and the fear they’d held for generations melted away as they laid out offerings by the forest’s edge for their god and his mate. The forest was whole again, complete, and all would be safe within it once more.