know she was proud of her skills even if she tried not to show it. “The dissenting elders didn’t have much of an argument afterward. I was allowed to take the oath.”
You were only nineteen .
She nodded. Her age was part of the legend that grew up around her. Most didn’t pass their training to take the oath until their early twenties. But then, most of the other Trackers had less reason to go into the job than she did.
She swallowed the last of her tea and set the mug aside. “As it turned out, my first job was to bring Elizaveta’s son before the elders. Ivan…”
She shook her head and stood. When Ivan lost his mate, he went insane. The old story still broke her heart. His three young sons, after just losing their mother to a suicide, then had to lose their father for eight years to confinement. If Ivan hadn’t been Elizaveta’s, if he weren’t so obviously driven mad by his mate’s death, he would have been executed. After twelve years, it was still the hardest job she’d ever done. Because she understood Ivan’s pain, and her heart ached for his boys.
Needing something to do with her hands, she went back to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil again. She wasn’t thirsty anymore, but a second cup of tea felt necessary. She looked back at Victor. “You want another?”
He shook his head.
She occupied herself with putting a fresh tea bag into her mug. Finally, she had to speak into the silence. “So, that’s my story. A lot of death and heartbreak got me here.”
He rose and stalked to her, his gaze steady. When he took her in his arms, she felt comforted, and comfortable, but not pitied. It made her love him more. She couldn’t take him feeling sorry for her. Especially given what he’d been through. She didn’t want his pity. She’d become what she was because of her history. While she’d have rather grown up with her parents around, she didn’t regret the life she’d lived since or the person she was now. There was no need for anyone to feel sorry for her.
She did want him to know the truth of her past, to understand, and because he was Victor, he did.
Once she’d finished making her next cup of tea, she said, “Let’s sit on the porch. It’s a nice night. Might as well wait for them in the open.”
The other males were circling closer, moving in very slowly. They’d make their way here before the night was out. She wasn’t going to cower inside waiting for them.
Victor disappeared into the bedroom long enough to put on some jeans, then joined her on the porch, sitting next to her in one of the two wooden rocking chairs. She contemplated just how sexy he looked in jeans and no shirt. Despite all the time they’d spent in bed, she wanted him again. Heat coiled in her stomach, her muscles tightening with delicious tingles. His scent drifted around her, mingling with her own essence, the perfect combination humming through her body.
She rolled her head, loosening her neck muscles, and focused on the woods instead of Victor. He’d know exactly what she was thinking, but at the moment, they couldn’t give in to the chemistry between them. She had to keep her hands to herself. Continuing to stare at him would only make it harder to do.
Chapter Eight
The night wore on with no movement from the other males. Sometime after the clock inside announced it was one a.m., Alexis got up the nerve to broach a topic she was incredibly curious about.
“May I ask you something?”
Victor rolled his head against the back of his chair and raised his brows.
“It’s just…given your past, what those human men did to you…do you hate humans?”
He shook his head, his mouth soft and relaxed.
“How can you not? How do you keep from being bitter? I still hate the man who killed my parents, and he’s been dead for years.”
Do you hate all tigers because of what that one did?
“Of course not. But…the viciousness of the attack on you and your mother, how do you let that
You were only nineteen .
She nodded. Her age was part of the legend that grew up around her. Most didn’t pass their training to take the oath until their early twenties. But then, most of the other Trackers had less reason to go into the job than she did.
She swallowed the last of her tea and set the mug aside. “As it turned out, my first job was to bring Elizaveta’s son before the elders. Ivan…”
She shook her head and stood. When Ivan lost his mate, he went insane. The old story still broke her heart. His three young sons, after just losing their mother to a suicide, then had to lose their father for eight years to confinement. If Ivan hadn’t been Elizaveta’s, if he weren’t so obviously driven mad by his mate’s death, he would have been executed. After twelve years, it was still the hardest job she’d ever done. Because she understood Ivan’s pain, and her heart ached for his boys.
Needing something to do with her hands, she went back to the kitchen and set the kettle to boil again. She wasn’t thirsty anymore, but a second cup of tea felt necessary. She looked back at Victor. “You want another?”
He shook his head.
She occupied herself with putting a fresh tea bag into her mug. Finally, she had to speak into the silence. “So, that’s my story. A lot of death and heartbreak got me here.”
He rose and stalked to her, his gaze steady. When he took her in his arms, she felt comforted, and comfortable, but not pitied. It made her love him more. She couldn’t take him feeling sorry for her. Especially given what he’d been through. She didn’t want his pity. She’d become what she was because of her history. While she’d have rather grown up with her parents around, she didn’t regret the life she’d lived since or the person she was now. There was no need for anyone to feel sorry for her.
She did want him to know the truth of her past, to understand, and because he was Victor, he did.
Once she’d finished making her next cup of tea, she said, “Let’s sit on the porch. It’s a nice night. Might as well wait for them in the open.”
The other males were circling closer, moving in very slowly. They’d make their way here before the night was out. She wasn’t going to cower inside waiting for them.
Victor disappeared into the bedroom long enough to put on some jeans, then joined her on the porch, sitting next to her in one of the two wooden rocking chairs. She contemplated just how sexy he looked in jeans and no shirt. Despite all the time they’d spent in bed, she wanted him again. Heat coiled in her stomach, her muscles tightening with delicious tingles. His scent drifted around her, mingling with her own essence, the perfect combination humming through her body.
She rolled her head, loosening her neck muscles, and focused on the woods instead of Victor. He’d know exactly what she was thinking, but at the moment, they couldn’t give in to the chemistry between them. She had to keep her hands to herself. Continuing to stare at him would only make it harder to do.
Chapter Eight
The night wore on with no movement from the other males. Sometime after the clock inside announced it was one a.m., Alexis got up the nerve to broach a topic she was incredibly curious about.
“May I ask you something?”
Victor rolled his head against the back of his chair and raised his brows.
“It’s just…given your past, what those human men did to you…do you hate humans?”
He shook his head, his mouth soft and relaxed.
“How can you not? How do you keep from being bitter? I still hate the man who killed my parents, and he’s been dead for years.”
Do you hate all tigers because of what that one did?
“Of course not. But…the viciousness of the attack on you and your mother, how do you let that
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