Page 125 of Tiger's Destiny
defeating mahishasur
If you are hesitant, then stay here, little sister,” Anamika teased.
“This is my war even more than it is yours,bigsister.”
She frowned, which made me just the tiniest bit happy, and attempted to swing her leg over Ren’s back. Surprisingly, the new goddess fell over in an awkward flurry of arms. Irritated, she got up and gave it another go, but try as she might, she was not able to take her place atop Ren.
She took hold of the handgrip over his shoulder blades, but trying to mount him required a monumental effort on her part. When Ren leaned toward her to make it easier, he was violently shoved by an unseen force. He danced away from Durga, leaving only his paw prints behind in the soft ground.
“Why is this happening?” she demanded of her teacher.
Phet shrugged his shoulders. “Kismet, my dear.”
“Kismet?” I whispered. Curious, I took hold of Kishan’s saddle and felt an immediate force pressing against me. I let go and stepped away. “Um, I sort of have the same problem.”
Phet took his former pupil’s hand and placed it on Kishan’s back. “You must ride the tiger chosen for you.”
Kishan huffed, and as he and Durga stood evaluating each other, Ren moved around them and rubbed his head against my leg. I patted his armor-plated shoulder, took hold of the handgrip, and swung my leg easily across his back. I felt a pull and a snap as my silver armor touched his.
“It’s like we’re magnetized,” I exclaimed.
“You are correct,” Phet said. “There is a similar power that connects you to your tiger as at the ends of a magnet. This bond will help you in battle. The metal will hold you together to prevent you from falling. In theory, you could even stand on his back and your boots will lock in place like an astronaut standing on a space ship.”
I nodded and snapped my feet onto the metal plate on either side of Ren’s body. Satisfied, Phet headed over to Kishan and my Durga twin.
The awkwardness of the past few weeks dissolved the second I felt the bond between Ren and me thrum through my body. Energy poured from my limbs into him and then back into me, and I realized that I could hear his thoughts.
Ren was . . . proud to carry me into battle, but I also sensed he was desperately afraid. He did not want me to face Lokesh, and he was prepared to sacrifice himself to save me. He also didn’t want to be a tiger in battle. My fists tightened involuntarily as he attempted to switch back into a man. Ren’s efforts were fruitless though, and he soon resigned himself to his tiger form.
Even though I had ridden the Qilin and was starting to get pretty good with the mare, I wasn’t all that sure how complicated ridingandfighting at the same time would be. I raised the sword and swung it back and forth, trying to decide which hand worked best. I switched a few weapons around, rotating them from hand to hand quickly and then adjusted one of my eight forearm guards.
I must weight a ton, I thought.Poor Ren.
You’re not heavy at all.Ren’s intoxicating voice slid into my consciousness, startling me. The sensation was like rich, velvety chocolate pouring into my soul. It completely filled and warmed me, making every square inch of my skin tingle with delight. My breath caught, and my heart raced. The feeling was intensely intimate.
You’re making me blush, priyatama.
Hesitantly, I discovered that he was just as aware of me as I was of him. In his mind I was like liquid sunlight with the taste of ripe peaches. I felt heat warm my cheeks, and Ren guided me to a secret place deep within his mind where he opened himself to me completely. I swiftly became aware of everything: his isolation in captivity, his joy when I chose him over Li in Oregon, his self-recrimination when he broke up with me, and his utter despair when I became engaged to Kishan. The layers of loneliness almost smothered me. But woven through all of his thoughts was a constant hope coupled with waves of love. It tickled my toes and lapped gently at the edges of my heart.
Ren, I—
Unable to form a coherent thought in response, I wiped a tear from my cheek and stroked the white fur of his neck where it peeked through the armor.
His reaction to my touch was overwhelming. I felt his need for me. It twisted inside him like a tornado. Raw emotion swept through him, triggering my own. Memories circulated inside the storm, one after another.
Some of them I recognized, like the image of me snuggling on his lap after our Valentine’s dance, but some of them were new: Ren clenching his fists, ready to rip our diving instructor, Wes, to pieces when we danced on the beach; Ren holding other women in his arms and still feeling empty; Ren seeing me cry and knowing he was the reason.
Then Ren showed me how he felt when I touched him for the first time as a tiger, his memories of us kissing in the kitchen while cookies baked, of how perfectly my hand fit into his, and the utter abandon and wild joy he felt when he took me into his arms. This part of him had been locked away, restrained. His heart was indeed caged, and like in the poem, it paced, waiting to be set free.
You hold the key, he told me.
Then that wonderful, beautiful, amazing man put his heart into my hands at that moment and waited to see what I would do with it.
I sucked in a breath and sensed his expectant tension. He didn’t care what happened in the war. Durga and the prophecy and all that pertained to it meant nothing to him. As far as he was concerned, this was the battle he was fighting. He was on a crusade, not to gain glory, secure a kingdom, or fight for a goddess. His campaign was to winme.
I crossed a set of arms over my heart and closed my eyes. Leaning down, I pressed my cheek to his soft ear and wrapped a couple sets of arms around his neck.
Ren.
