Tiger’s Tale (The Tiger’s Curse #1)

13. If You’re Scared of Wolves, Don’t Enter the Woods

13

IF YOU’RE SCARED OF WOLVES, DON’T ENTER THE WOODS

As the music danced in her mind, it was like Veru was lost in a stage play she’d seen performed long ago by a traveling troupe visiting the palace. Gray wolves, the villains of the theater, leapt from the trees, howling and circling their intended prey, uncertain when or exactly how to attack. They danced around their human victim, lured in by scent and his music. The man carried no visible weapon, only his instrument. The hungry wolves yipped and darted around their prey, salivating as they waited for the signal from their leader.

The music crescendoed, then suddenly ceased. Had the player been killed? Veru’s vision went red. Predatory instinct and, above all, the desperate need to protect took over. Something inside her snapped. She moved without thinking. There was a snarl and a yelp that was quickly silenced.

A new player entered the stage.

The wolves hesitated, uncertain. Finally, the leader gave the signal, and, almost as a unit, they barreled toward their victim. Then two things happened at once.

Another creature, much larger, shot out of the trees, taking down two wolves in a fierce, fast attack, ripping open the throat of one and the belly of the other. Steam rose from the fresh wound as the young wolf shuddered, whimpered softly, and died, his guts spilling out onto the fresh packed snow. The large golden tiger lifted its head, blood dripping from its fangs, and puffed a hot breath before turning to target another wolf.

To the wolves, such an act made no sense. The great predator had killed; why wasn’t it eating? Meanwhile, their own target had hefted a pack full of the delicious scents of sable, fox, polecat, and mink, donned wooden skis covered with deerskin hide, and was now pushing through the snow with large carved walking sticks, picking up speed quickly.

Three wolves chased after him, running fast in pursuit, hunger making them ignore their fallen pack members. Two remained with the dead, whining and licking the faces of the fallen. Three more died quickly, torn to pieces by the jaws and claws of the great enraged beast. No, four. A fifth still fought the predator. How could it be so hungry? Did it mean to eat them all? Perhaps she was crazed, they thought, or taking the territory for her own.

Wounded, their alpha signaled to regroup. They’d find prey elsewhere. The important thing now was to hide from the large wolf killer. He’d cede the territory, and the pack, such as remained, would move on. Silently, they slipped into the shadows and disappeared, leaving their dead behind.

Veru shook her head and sniffed the air, instinctively understanding the fight was finished. Had she just fought off a pack of wolves? The scent of the ferocious animals quickly vanished. She sniffed the cooling body of the wolf at her feet, wondering if she should pause to eat so as to replenish her energy, but then studied the ski tracks of her hunter. Unfortunately, the three wolves who followed him did not appear to veer off to heed the call of their alpha but had kept up their pursuit.

It was a good idea to escape on skis. The young man had been able to cover a lot of ground very quickly, especially since the terrain led downhill. She caught sight of him every so often, but she was growing tired. The fight had drained her. She’d been bitten several times, and there was a nasty gash on her ribs, but she could feel them healing as she ran.

Her stomach rumbled. The meager meals she’d been eating weren’t enough to stave off the cold and help heal her body. Veru also knew another fight was likely. She regretted not tearing off a hunk of warm flesh when it was readily available. Still, she pressed on, determined to save the young man’s life who had risked his own to save her.

She came across the first dead wolf one hour later. Apparently, her hunter had used one of the traps in his bag and set out a tempting morsel. The poor creature had stuck his head in the trap to pull off the meat, and it shut on his skull, killing him instantly. Veru pitied the animal but was glad it had been quick and that she needn’t fight him herself. Quickly she picked up the chunk of meat that had fallen aside in the snow and gulped it down while still running.

By the time she caught up with her young hunter, he’d positioned himself in the hollowed cave of a rock. She could tell by the smell that it had once been used as the home of a bear but had long since been abandoned. He’d quickly built a fire in the opening and had an impressive stockpile of firewood, which meant either he or someone else had used it as a shelter before. He stood behind the fire holding out a long hunting knife as the two wolves, both young females, paced back and forth on the other side, growling menacingly.

He’d made camp before sundown, but night had fully fallen at that point, it being winter and only a few hours of daylight. There was no moonlight at all. Only the cold light of the stars and his fire, but Veru found she could still see very clearly. As such, it was evident to her by looking at his face and form that the young man was not only exhausted but injured. He favored one leg heavily.

There would be no more running for him until he healed. It would be up to her to take out the determined wolves. She was about to head down to attack them, when she hesitated, thinking there might be a different way. Her father had taught her from a young age that the best result in battle was to defeat your enemy without raising a weapon. Sometimes that meant diplomacy, sometimes he used scare tactics, and other times he simply outwitted his opponent.

Just because she was bigger and could defeat them with her teeth or claws didn’t mean she had to. It was time to be the commander her father had been. Instead of springing on the wolves like she’d done before, she decided to try facing them in open challenge. That way they’d have an opportunity to run, if they preferred, saving her from a fight she didn’t want.

Filling her lungs and puffing herself up as big as possible, something that worked in war as well, Veru leapt down onto the path leading to the rock cave, snuffed, and then roared so deafeningly she was sure she could have brought down an avalanche under the right conditions.

The wolves spun, sat on their haunches, yipped, and whined, but didn’t budge. Instead, they stayed stubbornly in place, trembling. So Veru took one step closer, and then another, letting every sharp claw click down separately with a scissor snick, her mouth open as she let her chest rumble with a deep, menacing growl that promised pain, disembowelment, and death.

One wolf stood, her tail tucked. She whimpered, looking at her companion. Then she sat again, her tongue lolling and dripping. The other watched Veru with steady, wild eyes, but her body shook with fear. Finally, after Veru let out another roar and crouched to pounce, they bolted, running so fast one slipped on slick ice and scrambled quickly, falling behind the others who outpaced her in the snow.

She watched them until she could scent them no more and then turned back to the cave opening. Her young man stood there, squinting in the darkness, knife still pointed out. His hand slightly shook. When she entered the circle of firelight, she paused, looking up at him across the fire. It was then that she realized her fur still bristled, and the rumbling sound still emanated from her chest.

Making oneself as puffy and large as possible was definitely something that felt unnatural for Veru, especially around men. So, she reverted to her normal way of doing things, shook her whole body as if she was ruffling her skirts, and then, as demurely as one could when one was a tiger and not a lady, she sat, attempting to bat her eyes, which only served to irritate her, so she stopped and flicked her tail back and forth instead in what she presumed looked like a friendly sort of way.

“I... I wondered if that was you,” he said. “Part of me hoped it was. Then I also hoped it wasn’t. I’ll understand if that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make much sense to me.”

Veru thought that about summed up how she felt too. He hadn’t yet dropped his hand with the knife, so it was obvious to her that he was still frightened. She supposed he should be. Veru was a dangerous animal, after all. She’d probably be scared, too, if she were him. To put him more at ease, she slumped down, placing her back to the fire so she could guard the opening to the cave. That gesture seemed to do the trick.

She could hear him finally move from his position. His normal footfalls were awkward, staggered. He limped over to his pack. “Are you hungry? I don’t have much left. But I expect you deserve something for saving my life.”

He tossed her a raw hunk of meat. Veru licked it and then swallowed it whole.

“Here’s to hoping that was enough for now, little lapa. Speaking of which, it appears to me as if your paw has healed while mine is now injured. How’s that for justice?”

Settling himself down on the other side of the fire, he pulled off his thick boots and examined his foot. Veru lifted her head to look at the damage. She could see his ankle was swollen with a purple bruise on the side.

“Looks like a bad sprain,” he said. “Best to leave the boot on, else it will continue to swell. I don’t believe it’s broken though.” As he pulled his boot back on, he winced, but smiled at her. “Too bad I don’t heal as easily as you, eh?”

Veru snorted and put her head back on her paws, closing her eyes.

“I don’t have any water, but there’s a nice fast river not too far from here,” he said. “I’ll head over there in the morning. Might take me a while. I’ll have to carve you a new bowl, but if you’re patient...” He yawned and closed his eyes. “It’s the strangest thing. I should be more frightened of you than the wolves, but I’m not... I’m very relaxed.” His words were becoming more drawn out, like he was having trouble forming them. “It’s just that I’m so tired,” he said. “I...” then Veru heard a soft, musical snore.

She found she rather liked it. Within a minute, she was asleep too.

* * *

The next morning, she was awake before the sun. Her young man snored loudly in his little cave. She thought his staccato snore was probably what woke her. The coals from the fire were still warm but they wouldn’t be for long. Veru managed to use her paw to maneuver some sticks of kindling that had been laid aside on top of the coals.

Once they caught, she opened her jaws wide and wrestled some larger logs onto the fire. The wood sunk heavily into the old coals and smoked for a while before catching, the flames eating the old mosses first before starting on the bark. After they were merrily crackling, she headed off through the fresh snow to look for the river the hunter had described.

It didn’t take her long to find it. Her nose seemed to catch the scent of fresh water on the air. It was a crisp smell, a bit ticklish. She could almost taste it on the back of her tongue. After drinking deeply, she caught herself four fish, which took her the better part of an hour, and made quick work of devouring them, then batted two more to shore.

Unfortunately, one of them wriggled its way back into the river and disappeared, but then she managed to catch a much larger fish, so she didn’t mind. Though she tried to be gentle with them, they were still pretty badly mangled by the time she got them back to the cave.

When she dropped them with a thump by the fire, she apparently startled the hunter, who was intently carving a bowl from a large piece of bark. He dropped his knife.

“You scared me, little kotenok,” he said, picking up his knife. “I thought you left me.” Shifting, he grabbed one of his walking sticks and got awkwardly to his feet. “What’s this?” He stopped dead when he saw the two large fish lying there in the snow. “Well, I see you found the river. I’ll assume you drank, then.”

He sighed. “At least one of us will have breakfast this morning. I’ll have to make do with sbiten. I don’t think I’ll be able to head up there today. Despite wearing my boot, my ankle swelled up pretty bad during the night. I’ll pack it in snow for a while and see if that helps.”

The hunter shifted, taking a step back inside the cave but heard movement outside and turned just in time to see the golden tiger nudging the fish toward him with her nose. She then walked several steps away and sat down. “Are you”—he gestured to her and to the fish—“did you just...” His words trailed off, and then he laughed. “I must be seeing things. Perhaps you’re full, then? Very well. Spasibo. How about I cook them up and share them with you, eh?”

Veru snuffed but remained in place, laying down with her head on her paws. The young hunter hobbled over, cleaned the fish, leaving the guts on the snow for her, and placed it whole right on top of the hot coals. It smelled good to Veru as it cooked, but it was interesting that the raw food smelled just as good if not better.

Standing up, she wandered over to the cave, slowly enough so as not to scare him, and then laid down again, scooping up the fish innards. Then she began licking her paws. After which she rolled on her side and napped lazily as he finished cooking his meal. Veru felt happy hearing him make appreciative little noises as he ate and licked the hot juices from his fingers. It was nice to see a man salivate over the food she’d caught for him instead of her body for a change.

When he was sated, with a full cup of tea at his side, he tossed her half a fish, which she quickly polished off, then he sat with his back against the wall of the cave and pulled out the strange pipe he’d been playing the night before, just before the wolves attacked. After blowing a few practice notes, he teased her, asking if she had any requests.

“No? Then I suppose I’ll just play you something I’ve been tinkering with lately.” He started, then suddenly stopped, lowering his instrument. “It occurs to me that we haven’t been properly introduced. My name’s Danik. Ohchen priyatna. But then we’ve met before, haven’t we? It’s too bad you can’t tell me your name.”

Lifting the zhaleika to his lips, he began playing, and Veru didn’t realize she’d started purring again until his song ended, and he laughed, pointing it out. In the late afternoon, she drank at the river again and hunted fish, which, as it turned out, were ridiculously easy for her to catch. Again she returned with two large fish for Danik. He seemed to accept the idea that a tiger was hunting for him rather easily, all things considered.

After three days in the cave, he was ready to emerge and continue on his journey, claiming that his ankle was strong enough now to forge ahead. He said an awkward sort of das vedanya and began walking in a northeasterly direction. For a time, Veru just stood there at the cave entrance, not knowing what to do, exactly. Should she continue to follow him?

It was clear now that their paths were beginning to diverge. Yet she knew he was still vulnerable. He moved slowly in the snow, using snowshoes now instead of skis. Before he went too far, disappearing over a hilltop, she’d made her decision. Bounding after him, she followed, not exactly in an obvious way; she didn’t walk out in the open as he did but stayed out of sight in the tree line. And she didn’t follow too closely either.

Around noon, he figured out she was there. He must have caught a flash of her in the trees. “I see you, little paw,” he called out. “You need to be careful in the trees. That’s where hunters like me place their traps. I’m going to head in soon to check on one. It would be better if you stayed a bit closer if you’re intending to follow.”

Veru didn’t know what to do. If she growled or roared in response, she might frighten him. Wishing she could speak, she blew a sharp breath of air from her nostrils while nodding her head and emerged from the trees slowly. The sound she made reminded her of her sister’s sarcastic snort or derisive laugh. Again, it was very unladylike, but it seemed to put Danik at ease. He drew closer, and after he dipped into the forest for a time, emerging with a fresh fur and meat—some of which he wrapped in oil paper and placed in his pack, the rest of which he tossed to her—he began whistling, and walked beside her.

That evening they camped in the open with just a hill at their backs. He played for her again, this time strumming his domra. Veru laid closer to him than she had before, more adjacent to the fire than opposite. The night was cold, and in the morning, when his snores woke her, she was surprised to find his hand tucked between her head and paw.

Raising her head caused him to shift in his sleep. He grumbled and moved closer to her, pressing his face against her side and both hands between them to keep warm. Veru laid her head back down and tried to keep quiet. He slept longer than he usually did, and when he finally woke, blinking the sleep from his eyes, he didn’t quite seem to know what she was at first.

Since he clutched at her coat, yanking on it slightly as if to tug it closer or over him, Veru assumed he must have believed she was a fur blanket of some sort. Turning her head toward him, she snorted a warm breath over his cheeks. Drawing back, he rubbed his face, confused, and then understanding dawned, and he scooted back away from her so fast he knocked his head against a tree trunk.

Veru just laid there still, unmoving, watching him. Then finally, she yawned widely, turning her head away so as not to frighten him with her long fangs, then got up, hind end first, and stretched from her paws to her tail and moved to the other side of the dead fire, waiting to see what he wanted to do.

“Uh... right,” he said, taking off his balaclava and running a hand through his dark blond hair, mussing the long locks so they fell over his ocean-blue eyes in an appealing sort of way. When scraping the same hand across his face, Veru noticed again the pleasing curve of his high cheekbones, the strong, defined chin, and the generous, easy smile. The raspy sound of the light blond growth of new beard on his jaw was something that also caught her attention.

“So, I appreciate the not... killing me in my sleep. Especially as I value my... you know, life,” he said.

Veru was used to men speaking awkwardly or feeling uncomfortable around her. Usually it was frustrating. She was irritated by it, for the most part. This experience was the first time she ever felt the urge to comfort a man and put him more at ease. Perhaps it was due to her being a tiger. She simply wanted him to know she wasn’t going to kill him. She refused to believe it could be anything else.

He rose and began packing, mumbling things like, “Strangest thing,” and “Never seen the like,” and “Maybe I died out there, or I’m dying right now, and this is all a waking dream.”

Veru wasn’t sure what came over her at that exact moment, but she walked up to Danik, slowly, her head down and pressed it against his leg. He froze completely still in response. “Okay... what are you...” When she didn’t move but did that strange chuffing sound again and rubbed her head against his knee, almost knocking him over, then did the same to his second knee, he dropped his pack and put his hand on the top of her head to steady himself.

“Now, now, girl. Don’t forget—I’ve got a bad ankle. You’ll knock me over.”

Instantly, Veru sat and looked up at him.

He stared down into those storm-gray eyes, and at the same time she gazed back into his. “You... you understand me, don’t you?” he asked in wonder. That strange purring sound started again in the tiger’s chest. Swallowing, a thought came into the hunter’s head, one he couldn’t shake. He knew it was dangerous. And terribly stupid. But he did it anyway.

Danik lifted his hand, slowly, purposely. It trembled, and Veru could see the whorls of his fingerprints, the calluses from his work and his music, and the scars and color on his skin from working outdoors. She knew he wanted to touch her. Veru could have moved away in that moment. But she didn’t want to. It surprised her, but she wanted the contact.

Men had tried touching her before, and typically she never ever allowed it. The tsarevna Verusha was highly adept not only in the art of evading the unwanted hands of diplomats and suitors but was skilled enough with a knife to keep it between her person and anyone, soldiers included, who attempted to get a bit too close. She’d also always kept Nik or her sister between herself and everyone else as a sort of human buffer system.

With Danik, it was different. He didn’t want to touch the girl, the tsarevna, or even the soldier. He wanted to touch a tiger, a beast, an animal capable of ripping him to pieces. This hunter of wild things was unexpected. He was like a soldier who hated war or a captain who loathed the sea. This man killed animals but also seemed to care for them.

There was something about his gesture that was innocent. That felt raw and vulnerable. He wasn’t trying to take from her. Instead, he was offering. But offering what? she wondered. Kindness, perhaps? That he was curious was certain.

As he reached for her, stepping closer, she felt something more. It was akin to her relationship with Nik. Similar, but not quite. She felt powerful, not used, or helpless. Veru knew she could destroy him with the swipe of her paw, but she didn’t want to. In fact, she... she wanted him to touch her.

Looking into his dark blue eyes, as deep and full of mystery as the Bering Sea, Veru felt the pull of him like a riptide. The hum of her purr intensified in her chest. It made him braver. Danik swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and her eyes fell on the warm pulse at his throat, not because she wanted to rip into his jugular but because she wondered how it would feel to press her lips against it and smell him up close.

Then his hand was on her head. He didn’t move at first. Just left it there. When he stopped shaking, he slid it to her ear, feeling the shape of it and then to her neck, sinking his hand into the deep fur and stroking it as if he were unable to help himself. Veru turned her head when he began to scratch, and her claws extended of their own accord. Never had she felt something so unbelievably relaxing. It was better than easing into a hot bath full of flower petals.

So good did it feel that she almost didn’t hear him when he said in amazement, “You’re so beautiful, my golden devochka. My kotenok.”

Though she knew he didn’t mean it in the same way all those other men did, there was something about hearing those words that made her melancholy. It was the same thing every man she’d ever met said to her, with the exception of “kitten.” Though, if she considered it long enough, there had probably been some irritating older gentleman who might have used that name for her once.

Even knowing it wasn’t really his fault, she backed away from Danik and sat, saddened that it had been her fault that the magical moment between them ended and wondering if there was something wrong with her. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she cursed her beauty and wished she could be appreciated instead for her mind or her skill with a knife.

How lucky her mother had been to find someone who truly saw who she was and loved her inside and out. She could just have easily been married to some old man who used her up and tossed her aside the moment her first hairs became gray. At least she took some comfort in knowing not all men were so fickle. Her father hadn’t been. She just needed to find a man like he had been. A task that proved not as easy as one would think.

Danik’s frown and furrowed brow showed her that he didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. Conceding, Veru turned back and was standing beside him, with Danik bravely stroking a hand down the length of her spine when both of them jumped with a terrible mix of fear and guilt at hearing a roar of displeasure coming from directly behind them. It caused Danik to stumble and fall, and Veru to mentally curse herself for not being as vigilant as she should.

Then they heard a voice that came from an unseen person. A voice Veru knew all too well. It said, “Keep your peasant hands off my tsarevna and back away from her unless you want to be eaten by her sister.”