"As I said just a moment ago," I began, my voice steady despite his gaze, "Kayden, tiger shifters are fundamentally different from wolf shifters." Kayden scoffed, leaning forward. "I know that, but—" I cut him off with a raised hand. "I wasn't finished." I took a breath, trying to find the patience I didn't have. "Tigers are known for being solitary. While that's mostly true, what the world doesn't know is that we have villages established across the globe." Kayden stiffened, his spine going rigid. It was the same reaction I always got. People—especially wolves—assumed that whenever tigers gathered, it was a war council. They couldn't see past the predator to see the person.
"These villages aren't for war, Kayden, so don't even think it." He opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head, silencing him. "They serve two purposes: raising our young and gathering for the mating season." Kayden's brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "Wait, that doesn't make sense. Tigers don't... you don't do things that way."
Her words felt like they were coming from a great distance, carried by a wind that was trying to shatter the fortress of everything I'd been taught. It sounded far-fetched—heresy, almost. She studied me in silence, her gaze tracking every flicker of my expression. Whatever she saw made her sigh. She lifted one leg and crossed it over the other, the motion fluid—almost feline—and it drew my attention despite the tension coiled between us. The black fabric of her pants clung to her legs, and I felt my thoughts go suddenly cold as desire cut through me. She was flawless, utterly transfixing, a reminder of just how beautiful my mate was—the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to pull her into my arms and finally give in to the craving that had been burning between us since the moment we met.
A few emotions flickered across Kayden's face, but I shook my head, not wanting to deal with all of it right now. "I'll go over the purpose of each village one at a time," I said. "I should probably start with the mating reason first—it'll make the one about the children easier to understand." Kayden blinked, confusion flashing briefly across his face, then nodded. I sighed. "As I already said, tiger shifters are very different from wolf shifters in many ways. One of those differences is that almost all tiger shifters—except for a select few—don't sit around waiting for their mate to appear."
I opened my mouth to defend werewolf kind, to say that we didn't just sit around waiting for our mate to magically appear. We hunted for them—traveled far and wide—clinging to the hope of finding the happiness we'd been promised our entire lives. But before I could speak, she shook her head. I closed my mouth—not because of the gesture itself, but because of the look in her eyes. There was understanding there, as if she already knew what I was about to say, and beneath it, a quiet plea. That was enough. I said nothing and let her continue.
"Most tigers don't care whether they ever find their mate at all. In fact, many can't be bothered with it. We're taught about mates, yes—but we're also taught the importance of proper breeding and strength." Kayden's expression tightened, frustration and confusion flickering across his face. I noticed it, but didn't stop. "Every year, tigers gather in villages for what we call the mating season. That's where most of us have our desires met—whether it's physical release, companionship, or even the choice to have a child. Whatever the need, it can be fulfilled there."
My mind felt like it was being torn apart with every word she spoke, as though she were ripping holes in the very fabric of everything I thought I knew. None of it made sense. It was nothing like what we'd been taught about tiger shifters. How could any of this be true? How could we know nothing about it? Werewolves had spent decades studying tiger shifters—learning how to fight them, how to avoid being taken by surprise. And yet we'd never heard any of this. Not once. The realization settled heavily in my chest. Our studies should have uncovered it. They should have. The fact that they hadn't felt impossible.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, a stress headache already forming, and took a slow breath before looking at my mate. She was watching me with concern in her eyes. Keeping my voice calm, I asked, "I thought tigers were solitary by nature. Doesn't all of this seem counterproductive?" She flinched at the word creatures, and my heart clenched. The regret was instant and sharp. I wished I could take it back—but wishing didn't change anything. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Yes, we are solitary by nature. But that doesn't mean we don't get lonely over the years. It's human nature to want companionship." Her gaze drifted away. "After being alone for so long, anyone can start to feel suffocated—especially when you see happy couples everywhere you go. And it doesn't help that the elders are always pushing reproduction, drilling it into us as if creating stronger versions of ourselves is the only thing that matters."
"It sounds like you have experience in the matter," I said, my voice edged with sarcasm. She scoffed. "You have no idea." The bitterness in her tone cut deeper than I expected. My jaw clenched. The thought of anyone pressuring her—of forcing her into choices she didn't want—ignited something hot and ugly in my chest. Worse still was the idea of her being with anyone else. The image alone made my blood burn. She was my mate. The notion of other hands on her, of anyone else standing where I belonged, pushed my anger closer to the surface.
A sharp creak snapped me back to myself. I looked down to find my hands crushing the arms of the chair. Wood splintered beneath my grip, breaking apart as I released it. I cursed under my breath, but before I could do anything else, my mate was suddenly kneeling in front of me. She took my hands in hers, examining them carefully, her touch gentle despite the tension still hanging in the air. When she found no cuts or splinters, she let out a breath of relief and looked up at me. "You really need to learn to control your temper," she said quietly. "Otherwise, it's going to get you into serious trouble one day."
I stared at her, disbelief flashing hot through my chest. She was lecturing me about my temper? "Excuse me," I said tightly, "but who was it that injured most of my pack in a single night? Who nearly killed one of them?" I pulled my hands free. "And you're telling me to control my anger? When it's common knowledge that tiger shifters act on theirs without hesitation?" My voice hardened. "Or is my information wrong about that, too? Was it not tiger shifters who destroyed entire villages in the past—human and shifter alike?"
I sank back onto my heels, staring up at Kayden, shock and dissatisfaction twisting through me. I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. "Wow... okay." I stood, and the moment I did, his expression shifted. Regret flashed across his face, but it didn't magically make me feel any better. When I stepped back, he reached for my arm. I dodged and put distance between us. "Look, I'm sorry," he started, voice tense. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just—" I cut him off, my voice sharp. "You know I'm trying really hard to understand, knowing how wolves feel about tigers. But it's nearly impossible when you can't do the same for me. You say you want to get to know me, but instead, you verbally attack me. You were there that night. Did it look like I was attacking your pack for fun?"
"My pack was already in bad shape when I got there," he said coldly. "How was I supposed to know you didn't attack first? Or that you didn't enjoy it?" The words hit harder than I expected. I ground my teeth together, fighting to keep my emotions in check. I ran a hand through my hair and leaned back against the fireplace, forcing myself to breathe as I faced him. He remained seated, his expression cold and calculating—though there was something darker beneath it, a flicker of sadness in his eyes. I narrowed my gaze. "I already told you—I attacked in self-defense."
My voice stayed steady, but there was no mistaking the edge beneath it. "If I'd wanted your pack dead, they would be. I made sure they were hurt just enough that they couldn't get back up. That was a choice." I pushed off the fireplace. "They gave me more than enough opportunity to kill them. I didn't. I didn't want to create more unnecessary bloodshed, more drama." My jaw tightened. "I never would have attacked if they'd left me alone. I would have walked away without incident. But they chose to act tough. They chose to attack me."
"I highly—" I cut him off. "God, don't you ever think for yourself?" Anger flashed across his face. His jaw clenched, but I didn't stop. "For fuck's sake, you saw it with your own eyes. When you arrived, I was sitting there—non-threatening. And not because you suddenly showed up or some other bullshit excuse." I took a step closer, daring him to react. "Ask that pathetic man you call a beta. I was sitting there long before you arrived."
Rage overtook his expression at that. He was on his feet in an instant, crossing the room just as the last word left my mouth. Suddenly, his hand was around my throat. "Don't talk about my friend that way," he snarled, his voice dropping into that commanding alpha tone meant to force submission. I recognized it instantly—the same trick wolves used to bring their pack into line. It might have worked on them. It wouldn't work on me. Tigers didn't bow. We endured.
I smirked as his grip tightened around my throat. "Oh, please," I said calmly. "Is that the best you can do? How cute. What—can't you handle the truth?" He growled, fingers pressing harder into my neck. I ignored it. "Go ahead," I continued. "Ask him. And when you do, make sure he tells you how I was sitting before they attacked me." My eyes never left his. "The only reason he was still standing without a scratch is because he was the only one who didn't come at me." My voice hardened. "If I were the monster you're trying to make me out to be, he'd be on the ground with the rest of them." I leaned forward slightly, unafraid. "And if I were the kind of tiger you think we all are? None of them would be alive—and you'd be planning funerals right now."
He tightened his grip around my neck as he growled, my breath hitching as his anger sharpened. Anyone else might have panicked—scratching, begging, struggling. I didn't. I rolled my eyes at the pathetic attempt to force my submission. The flicker of shock in his gaze was instant, and his grip loosened—just enough. I took advantage of it.
Grabbing his wrist, I wrenched his hand from my throat with a burst of tiger strength and surprise. Before he could react, I slipped behind him, twisted his arm up and back, and forced his hand painfully against his spine. I kicked the backs of his knees, sending him down hard. He hit the floor on his knees. Leaning in close, my mouth near his ear, I spoke calmly—dangerously so. "As much as I enjoyed your hand around my throat," I murmured, "you should be careful who you attack. I might not be so kind next time." I tightened my hold just enough to make the point. "You're lucky you're my mate. Anyone else wouldn't have gotten this many chances."
I felt him stiffen at my words. Whether it was shock or anger, I didn't care to find out. I increased the pressure on his arm, drawing a hiss of pain from him—just enough to make sure he was listening. "Until you're actually ready to hear what I have to say," I said evenly, "don't bother coming to look for me. And don't insult me with some half‑assed apology, thinking that'll fix anything. I don't want to hear it." I leaned in slightly. "I'm done dealing with you. So why don't you get out—while I'm still being nice."
I released him. He spun around, clearly trying to catch me off guard, but I was already gone. By the time he turned, I had crossed the room in a blur and was opening the door. He looked both shocked and furious—angry that I was already out of reach, and angrier still that his mate had just handed him his ass despite the fact that he was an alpha wolf. I opened the door and pointed toward it, a clear, wordless command. He glared at me as he stood, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he stalked closer. I lifted my chin in defiance and met his glare head‑on. His jaw clenched, the alpha in him bristling at the fact that I wasn't backing down. They expected obedience. Submission. I refused to bow to anyone.
As soon as he passed through the doorway, he spun to face me. "You know—" I slammed the door in his face. A roar of anger erupted from behind the door, loud enough that anyone in the house could have heard it. I rolled my eyes at his temper tantrum and locked the door, ensuring no one could bother me. A moment later, a door slammed somewhere on the first floor, the vibrations nearly shaking the floor beneath me. I smirked. He was probably outside, blowing off steam after his ego—and alpha pride—had been thoroughly checked. I walked over to the bed to finish what I had started, muttering under my breath, "Men are such babies, I swear."
*
*
The crisp night wind bit through my fur as I tore across the pack lands, a silver blur against the dark earth. I had already run the perimeter twice, pushing my lungs to the brink, but the fire in my gut refused to die. Every time I closed my eyes, her face surfaced—not the fierce warrior who had pinned me to the floor with terrifying ease, but the woman who had looked at me with genuine betrayal just before I'd lashed out. How dare she? The thought looped endlessly. How could she expect me to cast aside decades of intelligence gathering on nothing more than her word? My pack had been hurt. My men were bleeding.
And yet...
A quiet, unwelcome voice stirred beneath the anger—the bond. It whispered that she hadn't been lying. That beneath her fury and defiance, there had been truth. I snarled, digging my claws into the earth as I ran harder, trying to outrun the doubt clawing its way into my chest.
I veered toward the training facility, claws digging into the turf. The massive garage-style doors of the warrior wing were open, spilling yellow light onto the grass. At first, I tried to push her words aside, but they crashed back into my mind like a wave breaking against the shore. My top lip lifted, teeth bared, as anger fueled my pace. Even in the dark, with only the facility lights guiding me, I could see everything clearly. One of the many gifts the goddess had given us: speed and strength beyond human limits, senses sharp enough to notice even the smallest movement, abilities a mere mortal could only dream of.
The training facility was state-of-the-art, filled with equipment for every kind of exercise or combat practice. An attached building served specifically for warriors—and for me—though anyone was welcome to use it. At this late hour, however, it was usually just our warriors getting in extra training or working through frustration. That was the building I headed for. Its back door was unique: built like a garage door for easy access, even in wolf form. We switched between forms constantly during training, and having to change just to go in or out would be a hassle. The door made it simple—and at night, it was almost always open.
As expected, the back door was open—no need to bother with the front. I spotted Luca standing in the center of the building, back turned to me, talking with a few of our pack members. Seeing him there, I quickened my pace. Without slowing, I shifted. The familiar ache of bone sliding over bone shot through me until I stood at the threshold, chest heaving and completely naked. I didn't care.
Stepping inside, I kept my gaze on Luca, ready for whatever came next. I ignored the shocked and concerned stares of everyone in the building. Naked as the day I was born, I walked forward without hesitation. I didn't need clothes to command respect. They stopped and stared—but no one moved. My expression was enough; anyone who caught even a hint of my anger knew better than to get in my way. The gym went silent as I walked in. The Warriors dropped their weights; the sparring matches froze. They saw the murderous look in my eyes and gave me a wide berth. Watching from the sidelines, they were silently praying they weren't the ones to cross me. My target was Luca. He stood in the center of the mats, his back to me, oblivious as he joked with a group of scouts.
As I walked toward Luca, my mate's words echoed in my mind, accusing him of downplaying the truth—of twisting her story before and after her fight with my pack. Each repetition fanned the flames of my anger, growing hotter with every step until I was only a few paces away. He had sensed my presence all along, his back still turned. The room went silent as others began to notice me, and when the men he had been talking to finally looked up, their expressions gave him pause. That's when he turned—and finally, he saw me.
His expression shifted—confusion and shock flashing across his face. "Dude, what are—" I didn't let him finish. I put my full weight behind a right hook that connected squarely with his jaw. The crack echoed through the gym, followed by a chorus of gasps. Luca went down hard, sliding across the mats before hitting the floor with a heavy thud. I loomed over him as he groaned, clutching his jaw. Slowly, he pushed himself up, eyes blazing as he spat blood onto the mat. "What the hell, man!"
"That's my line," I growled, my voice vibrating with the threat of a shift. "You really think you did nothing wrong? Are you sure about that, Luca?" He scoffed and hauled himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he rubbed his jaw. "Please. If I had, we wouldn't be having this conversation, now would we?" His gaze dropped briefly before snapping back up, irritation sharpening his tone. "The only thing wrong here is having to look at your butt‑ass naked body. Seriously, man—you're gonna poke someone's eye out if you stay like that. Why the hell didn't you put on clothes before storming in here? My poor, innocent eyes." He shook his head, continuing to rant like the punch had been nothing more than a mild inconvenience. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as a low growl rumbled from my chest, letting him get it out of his system—for now.
"You're lucky it's late, and most of the girls are either on duty or at home," he said, glancing around the gathered pack. "Otherwise, they'd be all over you right now." Then he looked at the others, speaking without really addressing anyone in particular. "Can someone get him something to wear? And maybe we should all get back to what we were doing and mind our own business." I heard a few muttered responses as they slowly dispersed. "Thank you," Luca added, sounding exasperated. Moments later, someone handed him a pair of shorts, which he then passed to me, looking away slightly. "Please," he said, nodding toward the clothing, "do us all a favor and save us from having to look at your naked body any longer. Then... and only then... we can discuss why you punched me for no reason."
A deep growl rumbled from the back of my throat. Several pack members immediately looked down, a silent sign of respect. I noticed Luca's muscles tense, his eyebrow rising as he tried to appear unfazed. I quickly pulled on the black basketball shorts. The moment I did, Luca let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, rolling his eyes at his own ridiculous behavior. I fixed him with a glare. "Enough, Luca. I want the truth—now."
He sighed dramatically. "And pray tell, what truth do you wish me to tell that I haven't already? I mean, you know nearly everything I know... everything, except—well, what goes on behind closed doors. But I didn't think you'd want to hear about my sex life with Mia. Let alone how, when Mia is mad at me, I end up having to—give myself a hand job in the bathroom because of how sexy my mate is, but she won't let me touch her. Or how I—" I held up a hand, cutting him off before his ramble could go any further.
"I don't want to hear about your pathetic sex life." He rolled his eyes, eyebrow raised. "Then tell me exactly what you want to know so we can get this over with. There's nothing I can think of that you don't already know." I narrowed my eyes, irritation flaring. "Oh, is that what you think? Then answer me truthfully—did you leave out any details about the night my mate arrived?" His eyebrow twitched in surprise, his expression hardening. "I already gave you my report on the matter." I could see it in his face—the subtle shift, the hesitation. He knew exactly what I meant.
My anger spiked, my chest tightening as I thought of everything I'd said and done to my mate tonight. "Enough," I barked, the Alpha command snapping through the room. The remaining warriors scrambled for the exits, boots pounding against the floor. Within seconds, it was just the two of us. I stepped into Luca's space. "I want the truth. Now." His playful demeanor vanished. He rubbed his jaw, eyes hard. "I gave you my report."
"The report said she attacked without provocation," I said coldly. "She says she was sitting there, non‑threatening, until your team lunged. She says she could've killed you all but chose not to. She says you were the only one she didn't touch because you were the only one who didn't attack." I leaned closer. "Is. That. True?"
Luca's eyebrow twitched. He looked away. His silence was louder than any confession. "Luca," I warned, my voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I didn't think it was important," he muttered. "She's a tiger, Kayden. We were doing our jobs. Does it really matter if she was sitting down five seconds before the fight started? She's a threat."
"It matters because she's my mate!" I roared, the sound shaking the rafters. "And I just spent the last hour treating her like a monster because I trusted your version of the truth." I turned away, dragging my hands down my face as the weight of it crushed me. I had been a tyrant. I had put my hand on her throat because of a lie. "I'm an idiot," I whispered to the empty room. "I've already failed her."
I groaned and dragged a hand down my face before looking back at Luca. The moment our eyes met, my anger flared again—sharp and tempting—but I forced it down. I narrowed my eyes, my voice dropping into a cold, controlled edge. "I want your revised report on my desk first thing in the morning. And this time, it will be one hundred percent accurate. If it's not, the punishment will be far worse than a punch to the jaw."
Luca groaned, disbelief flashing in his brown eyes. "You can't be serious. You're asking me to stay up all night. I'm already on night shift, and now you expect that report done before you even step into your office?" He shook his head. "Come on, Kayden. Be reasonable." I looked back at Luca, my expression turning cold. "Sunrise," I said flatly. "A new report will be on my desk. Every detail. Every breath she took. If it's not one hundred percent accurate, the punch to your jaw will be the least of your worries."
I crossed my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes. "You should have thought of that before leaving details out of your report. You're my beta, Luca. You know how a report is supposed to be, even if you don't agree with the who or what it concerns." His eyes flashed pleadingly. "Please, Kayden, be—"
I met his eyes, letting the weight of my authority settle in. "Am I clear, Beta?" He clenched his jaw, placed a hand over his heart, and bowed slightly. "As you wish, Alpha." I clenched my own jaw, then turned to leave. The building was empty; every warrior had cleared out, likely on Luca's orders. Two stood at the doors, silent sentinels ensuring no one interfered—or eavesdropped. I nodded to them and walked forward, my mind already shifting, thinking of what I would say—or do—when I finally saw my mate.
*
I had just finished moving the furniture to give myself more space when I heard the front door open downstairs. I froze, listening. I didn't dare move as footsteps sounded on the stairs, slow and deliberate. They drew closer... then stopped just outside my door. I didn't need him to announce himself. His scent reached me the moment he started climbing the steps, filling the room now, heavy and unmistakable. Still, I said nothing. Neither did he. My heart picked up its pace, anticipation curling tight in my chest as his presence pressed in from the other side of the door. But the anger was still there too, hot and unyielding. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay silent—to stay put—even as every instinct urged me to open the door.
I heard him sigh on the other side of the door before his footsteps retreated down the hall. A moment later, another door opened and closed—I assumed he'd gone to his room. My heart clenched, a sharp pull of longing and sadness threatening to take hold, but I forced it aside. I changed out of the clothes Mia had lent me and shifted, my body folding into my tiger form with familiar ease. Once the transformation settled, I padded to the center of the room where I'd rearranged the furniture and lowered myself to the floor. I curled my tail close to my body, drawing in on myself as I focused on steadying my breathing, willing my muscles to relax and sleep to finally claim me.