Page 40 of Tiger's Tale
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.”
14
THE TRUTH IS ALWAYS SIMPLE
Danik scrambled to his feet, looking from his golden tiger to the larger reddish-orange one standing a few feet away, her fur bristled as if ready to pounce. “A... a sister?” he asked in confusion. “And you... youtalk? In a man’s voice? I’m sorry, but I don’t think I understand.”
“Of course you don’t, you glupec. Just move aside so I can make sure you haven’t harmed her.”
As Danik watched, a boot appeared, after having been tossed into the snow beside them. It was soon followed by a second, and then a man materialized out of thin air. Danik, who had gasped and quickly made the sign of the cross to ward off evil spirits, took a brave step, putting himself between the stranger and his golden tiger. He held up one hand and pulled a chain with a dangling cross from around his neck, brandishing it at the young man, saying, “Begone with you, sorcerer. Her bones and teeth are not meant for your potions. It’s bad enough you’ve bewitched one of the sacred spirits,” he said, indicating the red tiger. “I’ll not let you have this one as well.”
