The thug advanced with murderous intent in his gaze, and she had nothing left to stop him. She retreated until she ran out of space, her back pressed to the bars of the cage. Not exactly ideal, as it put her in reach of the tiger’s claws, but she had nowhere else to go.
And the thug knew it.
He smirked as he stalked for her. “Wonder if I’ll get a bonus for killing you,” he stated.
The tiger snarled, as if reacting to the threat, and she had another idea. Not a good one; however, she’d run out of options.
Before she could change her mind, she whirled and unlocked the cage, flinging the door open, even as the thug yelled, “What are you doing?”
She couldn’t help but riposte, “Feeding a hungry tiger.”
A tiger who wasted no time exiting the cage. It pounced, landing on the man, knocking him to the floor hard enough the thug lost his grip on the knife.
The would-be tiger assassin screamed as he became the victim instead. Nadirah turned her head aside, not wanting to watch the mauling. She kept her eyes shut tight but couldn’t unhear the sound of cracking bone. A rattling wheeze was followed by silence as the thug died.
A rustle of movement had her wondering if it was her turn next. When she didn’t feel any claws or teeth, she dared to glance at the tiger, who still had the man pinned, his jaws locked around his bloodied neck.
She blinked, because, as she watched, the striped feline blurred and became something else.
A man.
A handsome, and very naked, Caucasian man, who stood and wiped his bloodied lips before saying in perfect English, “Please don’t scream. I can explain.”
Chapter Three
Phoenix had foundhimself in prison. A cage, to be precise. For animals, which technically applied to him at the moment. Better than being shot. However, in his current state, he lacked the ability to escape. His paws couldn’t exactly manipulate the latch keeping the door shut.
Annoying. Especially since the woman—whose scent tantalized—left. Now what? How long would he be stuck in the cage? Did he need to worry about them noticing he wasn’t exactly a normal tiger? Adding to his worry, his rumbly tummy growled in discontent. What wouldn’t he do for a cheeseburger right now?
The woman returned with the most disgusting offering instead. Ground beef he wouldn’t feed to his worst enemy. Gross. His refusal to eat led to the woman leaving him again, which only increased his annoyance and hangry mood.
The next time the woman entered, she didn’t do so alone. A man followed her inside, brandishing a knife. The threat to her wellbeing roused a different kind of ire because Phoenix wanted to protect but couldn’t while stuck in the cage—until, in desperation, she opened it.
Rather than race for freedom, Phoenix pounced the asshole scaring the woman. He could have simply incapacitated the guy, but instead, ensured he’d never hurt anyone else again. Some people had a soft-on-crime attitude. Not Phoenix. Part of the reason he’d joined the military was because he wanted to make a difference. To be the positive against the negative in the world. Turned out the whole good-and-evil thing could be subjective.
Ridding the world of an asshole wasn’t the only reason Phoenix chewed a hole in the guy’s flesh, though. He needed to return to his man shape and, since he wasn’t injured in the short-lived scuffle, had to resort to a different method.
Blood.
A mouthful of it and, poof, he instantly reverted and, in doing so, couldn’t help but hear the general:"What kind of pussy can’t handle blood? Do you realize how useless this makes him? Who wants a therianthrope that loses his shape whenever he gets violent?”
The doctors couldn’t figure out why the taste of blood affected Phoenix, and it didn’t have to be fresh, either. Raw meat with enough ichor left could even trigger the change. Oddly enough, raw fish didn’t trigger the shift while in his tiger shape, and as a man, he could still eat a rare steak without issue.
All that to explain why he now stood naked in front of the hot chick who stared wide-eyed. He held out his hands, trying to look as harmless as a six-foot-plus naked man covered in blood who’d just been a tiger could look. “Please don’t scream. I can explain.”
In accented English, she said, “You areharimau jadian.”
“Not sure what that means.”
“You are a weretiger,” she stated.
His turn to have his eyes turn into saucers. “You know of my kind.”
“Not exactly, but there are legends,” she murmured. Her gaze went to the body on the floor. “I wonder if that’s why he was sent to kill you.”
“Wait, he was here for me, not you?”
She nodded. “He said someone hired him to murder you.”
