Authors: Bianca D'Arc
“Fridrik and I were both white when we first shifted. He was a few years older than me and we both trained with the Guard to hone our skills. One day when we were out with our teachers practicing stealth in the snow, we were attacked by a group of human hunters. They weren’t just any hunters though. They had a mage with them and it was pretty clear they were there to kill us all. Fridrik died protecting my trail.” A tear rolled down her cheek and she paused to wipe it away. “They all died. All except me—the smallest. I was hurt, but I ran as fast as I could back to the stronghold and right into my father’s arms.”
“I sent out help right away, but it was already too late. The Guards found the scene and it was a bloodbath. All the tigers were killed, but they’d taken out a good number of the hunters as well. All human. All with the stink of magic about them. At least one survived and stole a piece of my son’s pelt. I shudder to think what the murderous bastard has done with it all these years.” Her father growled, and Gina wiped away the tears, allowing anger to stiffen her spine.
“When it was clear magic was involved, I began to suspect Gisli, even if the rest of the Clan thought he was a great guy. He had them all fooled back then, but I knew how much he always liked mages. I would’ve torn his heart out, but the Rule does not allow for brother to kill brother
, and I had no evidence to punish him or strip him of his rank. I prayed. I went up to the sacred mountain and sought the Lady’s counsel. The vision I received in answer told me what to do.” He paused a moment as if remembering that desperate time.
“I made preparations to leave for America. Gisli’s allies tried to stop us, and several of my loyal Guards were killed in the process, but we got out of there and took the most loyal Guards with us, as the Lady had counseled. I wish I could’ve fought Gisli and done away with the problem for good, but
blanche
cannot spill their family’s blood. There are so few of us. It is one of the sacred tenets of the Rule, which you will read in the book. Bound as I am to uphold the Rule, I could not fight my brother. He knew this. He knew I would never challenge him, which is why he could do what he liked to me and mine with no fear. He would not hesitate to kill me and my wife and remaining child as well. But he knew I would never do the same. So we struck an unspoken deal. I would leave and go into exile with my immediate family. I left the Guard Captain in charge of the Clan, but when that Alpha died under mysterious circumstances, my brother took over as steward of the Clan in my stead. Somehow, in the middle of all of this, Gisli managed to finally turn white and the people accepted him as my royal steward. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but I had no choice.” He sent Gina a loving, regretful smile. “I could not let him hurt you, kitten. Or your mother.”
Mitch didn’t speak right away, allowing the father and daughter their moment of silent communication. He mulled over the king’s words and thought he finally understood the man’s motivations. After such a devastating loss, if he had a mate and young, he would do all he could—including giving up everything, as the Tig’Ra had done—to protect them.
The king rubbed one hand over his brow as he sat back, remembering. “It was so long ago. But the Mother of All gave me a vision. A fleeting hope that one day, another white tiger would come. One that wasn’t related to us by blood, who could fairly challenge my brother.” He looked straight into Mitch’s eyes. “I believe you are that tiger.”
“I think you’re right, sire, based on the flashes of insight I gained at the sacred circle.”
“You saw something?” The king leaned forward in his chair, bracing his forearms on the table.
“A charred
, black landscape where molten rocks spewed from a glowing fissure. Barren land covered in thick sheets of ice and snow. Ice fog. And two white tigers locked in mortal combat, their blood staining the snow.” Mitch admitted to the strange scenes he’d glimpsed in his mind while the beam of light had hit him in the circle of stones. He hadn’t understood them at the time, but clarity was dawning. “I think I’m one of those tigers, though I haven’t really seen all of what I look like now. Still, the stripe pattern on one of them looked a lot like mine, only bleached out.”
“A tiger does not change his stripes, even when he goes from
d’or
to
blanche
. Only the coloration and appreciation for the magic of the Lady changes,” King Frederick confirmed.
“I never knew tigers could go from gold to white.” This was something outside of his experience, training
and education. It was part of the many mysteries surrounding the
blanche
, and they guarded their secrets well.
“There have only ever been a handful of white tigers in any generation. In order to keep the line going—and in some cases where all the
blanche
were wiped out—the Lady intervenes, taking a worthy
d’or
and turning him or her
blanche
. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen.”
“My mother was born golden, Mitch,” Gina said softly. “She turned white over time, after my parents were married. In fact, I still remember her being golden
when I was little.”
“It usually happens like that for those who marry into the line,” the king added. “It’s a gradual thing that affects our mates over years. But the change in you, Mitch, is much more dramatic. Only a handful of times in our recorded history has such a thing occurred, and never by this method. Usually the white shows the first time a youngster shifts, like it did with me…and Fridrik and Gina. Or, in times of trouble, the Lady sometimes appears to a worthy older candidate and turns him or her white in a blinding flash of light, then sends them on a quest or puts them directly on the throne. For you to have changed in this indirect way—through blood—is both more interesting
, and somewhat confusing. If you were a consort, I would expect the change to happen in the usual, gradual way, but your sudden change—particularly while Gina and I still live—is troubling.”
“What does it mean?” Mitch was still very much stunned by the turn of events.
Those flashing images he’d seen in the stone circle didn’t give him a great deal of confidence. The two tigers had been evenly matched and both were bloodied. There was no reassurance to be taken from those images that Mitch would prevail if he followed through and challenged Gina’s uncle.
“I can see several possibilities,” the king admitted. “The most likely of which is that you are destined to be the champion who challenges Gisli. Whether or not my family and I survive to see it is what troubles me most.”
“I will lay down my life to protect you and your family, sire,” Mitch said immediately. He would give anything to protect Gina—even his life. She was that important to him.
“I thank you for the thought, Mitch,” the king said kindly. “But as you have experienced today—often things are not in your control when you are
blanche
. Whether we live or die is up to the Lady’s desire. I have done my best to serve Her, but if She wills it, I will go to the endless snowfields of eternity with the knowledge that you have been chosen by Her to set things right among our people.”
It
was just possible that Mitch’s role was to die in the challenge, changing things enough so that Gina could claim the throne that her father had given up. Or so the king could return to his rightful place. Mitch would give his life for Gina, but he wasn’t exactly
eager
to die. He wanted to know that his sacrifice would be worth something.
The alternative was equally daunting. What would happen if he actually won the challenge? To his knowledge, no Tig’Ra had ever allowed a champion to fight in his place. In most shifter traditions, the victor of the challenge fight became the Alpha—the ruler of the group. So did that mean if Mitch won, he’d become the king of all tigers?
It seemed impossible. And yet—
“What did you study in school?” the king asked abruptly, shaking Mitch from his thoughts.
“I have an MBA and my undergraduate degree was a double major in business and history.” He didn’t understand why the king was asking, but the older man seemed pleased by his answer.
“Excellent. I will bring another book tomorrow. A book of history. Lighter reading than the Rule, but no less important.” The king stood decisively, eyeing Mitch as he also rose to his feet. One did not remain sitting while the king stood. “You will read the Rule today and be ready to discuss what you have learned tomorrow when I arrive for lunch.”
“Yes, sire.” There was no other answer Mitch could give to the king in exile. It was pretty clear no other answer would be acceptable.
“Then we will discuss the ice fields and the earthen fire you saw in your vision. Iceland. That’s where you must prepare to go. The traditional seat of power of the
tigre blanche
.” He nodded toward his daughter. “Gina was born there, though I doubt she remembers much about the Grim. But you must go there, according to your visions. I will seek answers of the Lady, but She does not always answer in ways we mortals can readily understand. And perhaps she has already given you the answer. It is clear you bear her favor. Now it’s up to us to prepare you for the ordeal ahead as best we may.”
The king held his gaze for a long moment before nodding once. He then gave Gina a peck on the cheek before turning to stride toward the door.
Once the door closed behind the exiled king, Mitch was able to breathe again. The man had a way of filling a room that was more than intimidating. It was just one aspect of his power, which Mitch was learning was even more immense than he’d always believed.
Gina nibbled on a cuticle as she sat before the gas fire next to Mitch. He was reading the sacred book. She knew v
ery well what it contained. She had studied it herself as a youngster, at her father’s knee, to the point where she could almost quote every last word of the ancient tome.
She worried over Mitch’s reaction to the sacred Rule. There was a lot in there that would probably be hard to stomach if you weren’t born to the responsibilities of the white fur. Being
blanche
required more of a person’s character than normal shifters. The coloration carried with it a special blessing and a heavy responsibility. Her father’s predecessors had written the Rule in ancient times to guide subsequent generations of tiger rulers.
Gina didn’t know how Mitch would take some of the archaic language and old-fashioned ideas of duty and the multitude of blood oaths written in the Rule. There were good things in the Rule too. Things meant to protect those who swore their allegiance to the Tig’Ra from his absolute rule. But the Rule carried a high price to those who swore to uphold it.
Every Tig’Ra and Tig’Ren had to swear the oath. Her uncle had not, which is why he’d gotten away with the power play that had forced her family into exile. But if what Mitch had seen in the circle and her father’s interpretation of it meant what they thought it did, that situation would soon come to a head.
Gina chewed on her fingernails—a bad habit she’d picked up in medical school when the pressure to perform had grown too stressful—and worried about what the upcoming battle would mean for Mitch. And for her.
She didn’t want him to die.
Far from it, she wanted him for herself. Her tigre
ss had taken only a little time to convince her. The tigress knew and accepted that Mitch would be her mate, if the Goddess allowed it. Unlike other shifters, the
tigre blanche
had to consider more than just their own desires when mating. Very often, the Lady Goddess stepped in directly and blessed one union over another.
Gina sent up a silent prayer, asking the Lady to allow her time with Mitch. Time to be with him—if that’s all she could have—before he had to face her uncle in mortal combat. She knew her family. She remembered her uncle. He was a savage fighter. As strong as her father, if not stronger. And he’d held his position of power through many challenges over the years, savaging all those who had tried to remove him from the sham of a
stewardship
he used to control all the tiger kingdom’s resources and people.
Many knew and understood why her father had chosen to leave rather than spill his brother’s blood, and many had been lost in the attempt to champion the exiled king. So many loyal Royal Guards. So many friends. So much death. All at the hands of the usurper. Her uncle
, Gisli.
A hand on her knee roused her from her dark thoughts. She looked up and found Mitch watching her, concern on his handsome face. He had a little bit of beard stubble just shadowing his chin in bright gold and it was sexy as all get out.
“What puts such a worried look on your face, sweetheart?” His words were pitched low, in a sexy rumble that thawed her from the inside out, melting away her fears. At least for the moment.
She moved closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s nothing.”
“Come on, sweetheart.” He turned her to face him, one hand cupping her cheek briefly. “You can tell me anything.”
Caught. She wanted to burrow into his arms and seek reassurance, but she knew full well there was none to be had. His vision showed him fighting Gisli, a warrior to be reckoned with. She couldn’t undermine Mitch’s confidence by admitting to her fear that he would not prevail.
“Just worried you’re going to balk when you read some of the stuff in the Rule. It’s a little hard to stomach if you weren’t raised to it, I’d imagine.”
The distraction worked as he hefted the book in his other hand. He was more than halfway through it already.
“Actually, the majority of it makes a lot of sense and most of the concepts are not unfamiliar to me. The Guard has something similar, though not quite as extensive and certainly not geared toward those who would rule, since we protect them. We are
not
them. Which is why I can’t figure why your dad wants me to read this. Unless it’s just so I understand the weight of what lays on his shoulders.”
“Mitch…” Gina didn’t quite know how to say what was in her mind. Maybe flat out. That was probably best. Like ripping off a bandage. Taking a deep breath, she went for it. “If you challenge Gisli and win, according to the Rule, you can become Tig’Ra.”
Mitch turned away from her and put the book down next to him, his eyes widening as he blew out a stream of air. The unconscious gesture spoke more than words about his state of mind. He was troubled—and very obviously surprised.
“I guess I haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet,” he finally said, not looking at her but staring into the fire. “If what I saw was me fighting a challenge, I figured I’d be acting as your father’s champion. I wasn’t born to rule anything, Gina. I’m a soldier. A Guard. That’s my job. My calling. I’m not fit to be king. If that’s what your father wants, I’m going to have to respectfully decline.”
Her heart broke a little at the shock and denial in his eyes. She sought to reassure him. “Look, don’t think about it right now. Neither of us knows the will of the Goddess. She gave you the white fur for a reason. Maybe it’s so you can return my father to the throne. Maybe it’s something else. There’s no way to know until it happens. I think my dad is just preparing you. It’s his way to prepare for every contingency. The more you get to know him, the more you’ll realize how unbelievably
prepared
he is for everything. He could be one of those doomsday preppers if he wasn’t a shifter. I think he gets most of his new ideas from those end-of-the-world websites lately.” She tried to lighten the mood and it appeared to help a little. He moved his arm around her shoulders and sat back on the sofa, squeezing her close next to him as they both watched the flames dance in the fireplace.
“I can see the level of thought he put into this cabin. A gas fire that doesn’t give off smoke to betray our presence. Blackout curtains over every conceivable source of light leakage. And that pantry has about a year’s worth of rice and beans in it, not to mention the cistern on the roof and underground fuel tanks.”
Gina was a little amazed at how much he’d observed. She hadn’t seen him obviously looking around and he hadn’t asked any questions, but he saw more than the regular guy, that was a fact.
“This is just a cabin. You should see the main house,” she quipped, glad the mood was lighter now. “That place is a fortress. More like a bunker, actually.”
“I can only imagine.” Mitch stroked her shoulder in a gentle caress. It was a simple motion but it made her feel warm…and appreciated. It also made her hunger for more.
“Mitch…I…” Gina trailed off, turning toward him. Their eyes met and held and there was no need for words. He felt it too—this amazing connection, the undeniable attraction.
She closed the space between them, seeking his mouth with hers. And then her lips were on his and he was kissing her. This was no tentative exploration. No repeat of the sweet salute he’d given her before. No, this kiss started out calm but then swirled into passion like a raging torrent. Deep, drugging, intoxicating passion.
He maneuvered her into a position under him, lying flat on the couch while his starving body pressed her into the cushions. He loved the feel of her against him and wanted more. So much more. Did he dare push the limits of propriety? She was a princess and he was…nothing. Just nothing. He didn’t have any right, even to this kiss, but then she pushed against his shoulders, making him draw back.
Rather than pushing him away, she was only demanding more room to move her hands. Those dangerous little fingers of hers went right under his shirt and started stroking him in ways that made him forget all his objections.
He leaned into her caressing fingers, loving the gentle way she stroked his skin. She was petting him and he felt a purr rumble up from deep within his chest. That almost stopped him cold. Purring in human form was significant, but he couldn’t stop to think about it now.
He kissed her with all the pent-up longing within him, all the dreams of what could be—if he let things go too far. He didn’t want to hurt her, but how could he deny the fire that flared between them? He was too weak to resist as she pushed his shirt up and out of the way. He moved back for a tempestuous moment to let her to shove the bunched fabric up, over his head and arms.
When he returned, he was bare and wanted nothing more than to feel her soft skin against his body. He let his fingers trail to her waist, seeking the hem of her stretchy top. Going slowly, seeking permission with every touch, he lifted the soft fabric upward, exposing her midriff. He paused there, stroking her skin and learning the feel of her. She felt like soft, heated velvet against his rough fingertips. So feminine. So warm and delicate.
And then he dared to push the fabric higher, up over the satin cups of her bra. He let his fingers toy with the hard-pebbled tips he felt poking up from under the fabric. She shivered and he lost a little of his control. He tore the shirt off over her head with her very willing cooperation. He reclaimed her lips almost immediately, their kisses growing deeper and more desperate with every passing moment.
The couch limited his movements. Making no conscious decision
, he lifted her in his arms, mouths still clinging to each other, and walked with her to the big bed on the other side of the room. He deposited her there, taking only a moment to unhook her bra and let it fall down her arms.
Then he paused. His hands cupped her soft breasts, his mouth still devoured hers, but something inside him stilled. He knew he couldn’t take this too far. He also couldn’t be a cad and leave her hanging. She was panting against him, her body primed for pleasure. He’d be a total asshat if he left her wanting after taking it so far.
But he couldn’t claim her. He couldn’t make love to her and then pretend nothing had changed in the morning light. And he wasn’t the kind to fuck a woman and then leave her head spinning as he withdrew to a safe, protected corner. No, he had to be stronger than the primitive urges driving him. He would give her pleasure tonight because he
wasn’t
a cad, then he’d leave her be.
That way was safer for them both. And for the tiger Clan. He had more than just himself to worry about now. Anything he did with Gina could potentially impact many more lives. She was royalty. He was just a lowly soldier, who until a short time ago was as golden as any other tiger. A quick change in color didn’t change who he was deep down inside. He had to remember that.
Decision made, Mitch lifted his mouth from hers. He couldn’t keep kissing her and maintain even a sliver of control. He had to do the right thing here—even if it was one of the hardest things he’d ever tried to do.
Mitch let his mouth roam downward over her soft skin, licking, tasting and nibbling on her as he went. She tasted divine. Like the heavenly dew on a pale morning rose. Like the nectar of the moonflowers she reminded him of so much. She was like no other woman he’d ever tasted before. And Mitch feared very much that this stolen interlude w
ould ruin him for any other.
But it was worth it. Hearing her little whimpers of pleasure as he finally took one nipple into his mouth was worth anything—everything that might come later. This one moment out of time was his for eternity and he would never regret it—or forget it.
Gina’s body strained toward his and he loved the feel of her softness against his bare skin. She was quickly losing all control and he both feared and wanted it. The sooner she found her bliss, the less his control would be tested, but he also wanted to draw out this moment, to savor it and give her as much as he could in this one, stolen moment out of time.
He switched to her other breast,
allowing one of his hands to reach downward, between them, seeking the warmth at the apex of her thighs. She eagerly opened for him, the cloth an annoying barrier between them. He needed to get closer, but he also didn’t want to remove that last barrier that was helping him retain his very tenuous control.
Compromising, Mitch felt for
her waistband and was relieved to find just enough give in the stretchy fabric to fit his hand down the front of her pants. He wouldn’t have to remove them if he did this right. It just might kill him, but it would also help him stay in control.
He sucked hard on her tight bud as his fingers found the moist cleft that he sought. The little button at the top was his goal and soon after he found it, she cried out, her sleek muscles going taut under him as she reached a climax at his hands.
She was so beautiful. So responsive. He knew he could drive her even higher—if he allowed himself to touch her even more. But that would be wrong. His entire existence was in a massive state of flux at the moment. He didn’t know what the future would bring. Hell, he didn’t even know what the next hour would bring.
He couldn’t subject her
to the uncertainty that was his life right now, any more than she was already involved in it. He couldn’t be the tiger she needed at her side and in her bed. She needed a prince. A future king. A consort she could be proud of for the rest of their very long lives.