Asoiaf: I Have a Wolverine Template

Chapter 66

Chapter 66: Taming the Lioness
...
Richard POV

A fortnight later

I found myself roaming the eastern mountains of my territory. The terrain here was rugged—rolling hills draped in dense vegetation.

I wore my usual hunting attire: a long black shirt lined with subtle golden patterns, matching trousers, and boots built for silent movement.

I carried no weapon—none was needed. My adamantium claws were more than enough.

As I walked deeper into the forest, towering trees loomed overhead, their trunks tangled with underbrush and serpentine vines.

The wild grasses swayed and whistled with each passing gust of wind.

The reason for my presence was simple: a lion.

One had been spotted by a hunter in the forest in Eastern Neméos.

Lions were an endangered and majestic creature of the westerlands. Being a sigil of many houses, as well as mine. They were after all a symbol of strength, courage, and majesty, which is one of the reasons I wish to tame it.

About a week ago, a sheriff from the eastern marches—a knight named Adrian—had sent in his monthly report, as all sheriffs and landed knights under my rule were required to do.

Most of it was routine: farming yields, mining numbers, logging progress. But one entry by Adrian stood out, he stated that "A large lioness was found in a forest by a hunter."

Now, beneath the cool canopy of the forest, I followed its trail. The scent in the air was rich, earthy—alive.

I crouched beside a large paw print pressed into the soil. It was recent, broad. heavy. Definitely a lion.

I brushed my fingers along the edge of the track and brought them to my nose. The scent was fresh which meant the lioness was close.

I picked up the pace. The forest thickened around me, and I took to the trees, leaping from branch to branch.

It is easier this way, and made my travel faster and quieter.

Below, the undergrowth was too wild to move through without noise. It would've also ruined my clothes.

From above, the trail was much clearer without tedious obstacles.

Soon, I found the cave. I dropped silent to the ground from the tree.

The smell hit me immediately—strong, musky, primal, and mistakable.

The lioness was inside.

I stepped into the entrance.

Darkness swallowed the stone corridor, but my enhanced vision adjusted quickly. The shadows shifted into clear shapes and sharp lines. And there she was. A lioness, lying asleep on her side.

What caught my attention wasn't just her presence, but the swell of her belly—round and full.

She was pregnant.

A lioness alone was valuable, but a pregnant one, even more so.

Another thought struck me—if she was carrying cubs, a male wasn't far. If that was so, the male lion would be my next target.

But first, I'd need to tame this lioness.

I whistled—low and sharp, cutting clean through the stillness.

Her ears flicked. Her eyes opened, hazy with sleep, then locked onto mine.

A moment passed.

Then came the growl from her, which was deep, raw, and laced with murder.