A Rose By Any Other Name continues

Lovac rolled his shoulders, stretching, readying himself for the hunt. He despised what the government called entertainment. The hunt was a tradition centuries old. His father and grandfather were hunters. In the old days, a hunter sought a lioness, pursued her then if he captured her he was given the right to compete against the lions for her attentions. It was the way of Dyad to keep the gene pool level between the feline based humanoids and the covjecji, or the non-lion humans.
Female covjecji used to hunt with the lionesses, bringing game to the lions to compete for the attentions of the male feline. The government stopped the female covs, as they were called, from hunting. Human females could only mate with human males.
Lovac watched as the gene pool became weaker. It had been ten years since a healthy baby was born to a totally covjecji couple. Dyad was simply not meant to have the species separated. Lion and cov were meant to compete, to couple, to mate. It was the way the Ancients planned it. The Spirit of Dyad, Leana was pictured as a woman with the head of a lion. The two species combined.
The government changed the way it was meant to be. The government chose blood-thirsty hunters out of the thousands of registered hunters. They sent the men out to destroy the lions. Wiped out hundreds of lions. Orphaned thousands of cubs and widowed hundreds of lionesses.
Probably took the husband of the beautiful lioness standing before him. She certainly held the look of hatred in her eyes.
The government also took advantage of the mating instincts of the lionesses. The female felines were almost driven to mate. The powers that be wanted to keep the lion gene pool unchanged. They wanted the lioness to mate with the covs.

Lovac didn’t know the reason why, he didn’t care.

The government also wanted the process broadcast over the moon-wide holovision.
Lovac took a deep breath. He hadn’t been given a choice. If he had he certainly would not have chosen to be part of some twisted Minister’s idea of entertainment. His father, in his old age, became a prolific gambler. Lost everything his family ever owned. Lost more than everything. The government took Lovac as a young man and enslaved him. He could have run, but the government still had his mother and sister as hostage. If he didn’t hunt, the Ministers would kill his mother and sister. So, Lovac hunted. And he hunted a lot since he was the choice of most of the audience.
Hunters were chosen for their gene appropriateness. Lovac was considered a perfect mate.
Perfect! Yeah, I’m perfect. A perfect stud. I hunt, or pretend to hunt depending on how badly the lioness wants to mate. I capture and impregnate. There is no hunt anymore. No thrill in the chase, no pursuit, no competition. All there was any more was a moon-wide broadcast of my sexual exploits. I’m perfect alright, a perfect whore.

Lovac eyed the lioness before him. Perhaps she would be different. There was something challenging about her. The way she stood perhaps. The confident swish of her tail. The way her ears laid back. Not to mention her curvaceous body. The hunting jumpsuit did nothing to hide her lush hips, the full globes of her breasts and her flat stomach.

Lovac could feel arousal thrumming through his veins. He inhaled deeply, pulling from his training as a hunter to remove the evidence of his attraction. The Ministers would not be happy if he displayed too soon.