Tiger

And Reeves was suddenly behind me. I looked at him for a second, afraid to turn away from the creature for anything longer than a second. I could've sworn Reeves eyes were red. But I was too focused on the tiger to take a second look. And it seemed like his hair was longer somehow but it may as well been my mind playing sick tricks on me. I'd never seen his wolf form before, nobody has. For us being in wolf form is sacred, only something usually reserved for battle or lovemaking.
The creature never lost its focus on me even as Anton joined us with a dart gun. I didn't move. If I could I would've as it leaped its powerful body and launched itself at me with sharp, gleaming canines.
I screamed again and covered my face, at the same time Reeves screamed, "No!"
I waited and waited and waited but still nothing. My eyes flew open. Reeves was wrestling the animal and Anton was trying to find a clear shot. There was a deep, horrifying snarling that came from the tiger's chest. It was snapping his sharp teeth just inches from Reeves face. It's claws were dug deep into Reeves shoulder blades. But strangely, I felt as though he let the beast bit him on purpose. I was amazed by this speed, his grace, his strength. it was inhuman, even for a werewolf.
"Do something," I cried at Anton. "You can't let it hurt him. Not him."
"Shut the fuck up," Anton roared at me.
And then he fired. The animal struggled for a few seconds longer and then it went to sleep.
"Are you okay?" I asked Reeves, worried.
He rolled the animal off him and patted its jaw. "What are you doing here?" He was murderously angry. "I told you not to leave the trail!"
"I'm so sorry," I gasped. I rushed up to him. "Are you hurt?"
He narrowed his eyes on me but said nothing.
"Is Ceaser going to be okay?" Anton asked.
"It has a name?" nobody answered me. They didn't even look at me. "Is it yours?" I asked no one in particular.
Reeves nodded once at Anton, completely ignoring me. "Did you mix 0.5 mL Acepromazine with 10 mL of ketamine?"
Anton gave a stiff nod. Reeves was bleeding and I tried to ignore the nausea. He saved my life. He would've gotten himself killed. He saved me?
See a complete stranger saved me, of course me mate will take me out ofthis miserable life.
"Thank you," I mumbled to Reeves, my voice filled with emotion.
Ceaser started to stir. I panicked, retreating.
"Relax," Reeves hissed. "He's not meant to be dangerous?"
I was mortified. "Huh! Of course not!"My voice was sarcastic.
"You stepped into his territory and you're a stranger."
"He's yours?" I shrieked again. My eyes wide with horror. I stared at Reeves in disbelief. The guy crazy enough to keep a tiger as a pet.
He nodded.
The animal opened its eyes. Breathing became difficult. When it saw me it made a growling sound. But it was still weak from the tranquilizer.
"Easy now... boy," Reeves spoke to it gently.
"Oh no!" I bellowed. "You have a pet? And it's a fricken tiger?"
Anton rolled his eyes at me, muttering something under his breath and then disappeared among the trees, taking his icy glare along with him.
Ceaser tried to get up. Reeves pulled him gently down and ran his hands from his neck down to his tail.
"Easy... boy... easy," Reeves continued in that soothing voice. "There now. Don't rush it. You'll regain your strength soon enough."
I took off my tank top and started wiping the blood off Reeves strong arms. His muscles flexed under my touch and a jolt of electricity hummed between us. He winced but his concerned eyes never left Ceaser. "You'll be fine, boy. Take it easy."
He'd heal much faster in wolf form.
I shrunk back against a tree and watched from a distance. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my hands around them and then rested my chin on them. It was a terrifying and beautiful thing to watch.
When Ceaser was back to his old, strong, powerful self, he began to lick Reeves bruised face and bleeding arms. Reeves continued to pat him. It was a picture perfect moment.
They sat like that for a moment and then Ceaser got to his feet and started circling Reeves, only this time he didn't seem mad, he seemed... playful. Reeves was on his feet in a second and he too circled Ceaser. They moved in sync, they engaged in a playful fight, Ceaser was gentle and his vicious growls had turned to harmless snarls.
I was too mesmerized to move, too shocked to witness something so unbelievably perfect. They played for hours until Reeves sat Indian style on the wet grass and Ceaser followed. He laid his head against Reeves lap.
"Come say hi," Reeves suggested.
I was sceptical. I shook my head. "I already made my first impression. It almost ended in my death."
"He won't hurt you," he reassured me.
My eyes widened in disbelief. I almost scoffed. Yeah, right!
"I'll protect you," Reeves vowed. "I wouldn't let anything hurt you." His words were beautiful to me. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me and I knew they were true. He'd just risked his life to save me. I didn't doubt him one bit.
I moved towards them slowly. Ceaser lifted his head at my approach and growled in warning. I stopped.
"Easy boy..." Reeves cooed. "Easy." He beckoned with his hand for me to come closer.
I resumed my pace and Ceaser watched me with his wistful eyes. I dropped a pace away from Ceaser's sharp teeth. My heart was in my throat the whole time, and my breakfast too.
"Hello Ceaser," I said, voice shaking.
He lifted a paw and I raised my eyebrows.
"He wants to shake hands," Reeves informed me. I took a deep breath and then pulled the paw to my hand. Ceaser yawned.
I joined Reeves as he patted him. We left Ceaser sleeping in the forest and made it back to the house in silence. I wanted to thank him for saving my life but every time I got the courage, I chickened out again.
He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. He didn't look away from his marble floor, his eyes thoughtful.
I was anxiously waiting for the silence to shift with the aura of awkwardness but it never did. It remained comfortable.
It was evening before he spoke to me again.
"Can I get you food?" he asked me.
"No, that's okay," I said with resignation. "I'll go make us something, is roasted pork okay?"
When he didn't answer. I said, "You do eat pork, right?"
Still no answer.
"Right? Well... I can cook something else."
His eyes were cautious — he spoke through clenched teeth. "Right," he agreed. "No, pork is fine."
I sprung to my feet, backing away slowly. "Okay."
He watched me leave. His expression unreadable.
In the kitchen while the pork roasted, and the veggies steamed on the stove, I crushed some Holcoin and poured them into one of the two glasses. I'd have him asleep before he tried anything and in the morning I'd ask for my money. It always worked. It'd work even now. It didn't really matter that he'd said he didn't want a show, I didn't care that last night he hadn't touched me, I suppose he was too tired but tonight... the very thought worried me.
I sang a song I'd never heard of before. In fact, I threw in every word that came to mind. That's what normal people did when cooking — sing. Though, there was scarcely anything normal about me. Nothing at all normal about a seventeen year old 'stripper' trying to drug a much older guy so she'd steal his cash. Oh, it was normal alright, I realized with anguishing guilt, it was called survival.
The man seemed nice enough. I couldn't and wouldn't allow myself to feel guilt. I dished up; roasted pork, baked sweet potato, and an extreme assorted mix of veggies and then poured cranberry juice into two glasses. I gulped, looking nervously over my shoulder at the door as I clumsily stirred the juice, first I took the glasses of cranberry juice making sure to mark mine with the ring of my lips as I took a sip.
With nervous feet I approached the bedroom. There, he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn't help but sweep an appreciative look at him. He was devastatingly beautiful, the frown on his forehead annoyed me.
"Here," I quickly said when he caught me staring, the heat spreading from my neck to my cheeks.
"Rose." He rolled the name over in his tongue and the result was sensual. I wondered what he was thinking, looking at me like that, like I was a math equation. "You don't look like a Rose."
Against my better judgement, I smiled and let my hair cover my face.
"What do I look like then?" I scoffed. "A Gladys?"
He tried to smile, but failed. "No, actually, more like a Juliet."
My frown deepened.
"And let me guess..." I started my way to the door but stopped. "You're supposed to be Romeo?"
He threw his head back and laughed. I took a sharp intake of breath. The sound was beautiful in his rough, throaty voice.
"Roman, is the name. Rose and Roman? No, we aren't about to be in a romantic novel, no? And besides Romeo is overrated."
I pursed my lips, unable to control my curiosity, I studied his face intently with vigilant eyes.
His lips released a bit of the nervous chuckle; they trembled as it slipped through with a muted gasp that almost resembled a silent fart.
I hesitated, biting down on my bottom lip. "What?"
"You're staring and it's still considered rude to stare, isn't it? Or does that courtesy not extend to me?"
I swallowed. "Sorry."
The electric surge was humming excessively from somewhere between his body and mine. I hurried out of the door, desperate for fresh air, and into the kitchen, and took the two plates of food and rushed my way to the bedroom.
"So..." he said, the second I stepped through the door. "What's your last name?"
"Sugar." I lied without missing a beat.
He grimaced. "Nah..." he quickly disagreed, voice grave. "No."
I just stared back at him with a dumbfounded look like a complete idiot. "No?" I asked.
He craned his neck to the side and studied me with a look that knocked the very breath I was already struggling for out of my lungs. I was suddenly nervous, wishing I hadn't asked for an explanation.
He forked a piece of roasted pork and popped it in his mouth and chewed. Still watching me.
"Well?" I encouraged.