The Tiger's Forbidden Mate: A Paranormal Pregnancy Romance

by Angela Foxxe

  She felt one of the dagger-like claws rake her back leg and she let out a loud roar of pain as it seared through her flesh. She kept running despite the pain, for deep down all she could think of was water. She was so thirsty, so very thirsty.

  Shawna tossed and turned, soaked with sweat on the grimy garage floor while the infection raged in her body. Her baby kicked and flipped inside of her, unable to escape the oven it was in. She was dying, her baby was dying.

  The next dream that flickered across her subconscious was her swimming in a volcano full of molten lava. The liquid rock seared her flesh but she wouldn’t die. All she felt was unrelenting agony. Shawna wanted to wake herself out of the hellscape of the fever dreams, but her body wouldn’t let her.

  She just wanted Winston to return, and hopefully bring some water. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She would give her right arm for a drop of even dirty, radioactive water right about now.

  In her delirium, she felt her head being lifted up and cool liquid touch her lips. She gulped the offered water down as fast as she could, not noticing or caring who or what was giving it to her. After she had slaked her thirst Shawna passed out once more into her fevered dreams.

  She was thrust back into the dream where she was an animal, running away from a wastewraith at full speed. She sprinted through brown grass, over rocky outcroppings, and through caves in a futile attempt to escape the angered beast behind her. As fast as she ran, the hideous creature ran faster and caught up to her.

  All she could feel was white hot claws raking her body in her dream. She thrashed wildly on the grungy floor as her sleep terror tore through the primitive part of her brain releasing increasing amounts of adrenaline through her infection ravaged body.

  The wastewraith sat and watched the dying woman on the floor as she thrashed about in her dream state. Rest would be the best for her right now, it thought as it walked through the doorway on it’s knuckles. But it remembered it only took only a small injury like Shawna sustained to trigger the change before it went through the shifting ceremony.

  It was only a ten-year-old boy when it fell from the tree and scratched his arm. It was a really nasty scratch and it started to fester in short order. Freyna didn’t have any medicine to keep the purulence from spreading through his young body and he was too young to go through the shifting ceremony.

  The wastewraith sat on a burnt-out car and looked toward the western horizon. It would have been better for its parents to have let Freyna kill him than let him mutate into the terror that it was today. But his mother was sentimental and thought he would pull through. Unfortunately, he did pull through, but he had changed. His skin turned slimy and black, then grew scales. His arms elongated and grew massive, dagger-like claws in place of fingers. His legs grew longer, and were also tipped with claws. His face turned bestial and draconic, while curved horns began to sprout from his forehead.

  After he turned, his tribe cast him out. He was nearly invincible, so they couldn’t strike him down no matter how hard they tried, and no matter how hard he tried, the wastewraith couldn’t end its own life either. He was cursed.

  He heard Shawna moan from the garage and looked over his spiny shoulder to check on her. He promised he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but… maybe it would be a mercy to snap her neck… ending her life as well as the child’s. Who knows, maybe it would be born a wastewraith because of its mother’s illness.

  He sighed as he turned back, waiting for Winston to return. He promised he wouldn’t kill the woman, so he would wait and keep the ferals at bay.

  He smelled their unwashed and burnt bodies creeping closer. There was good scavenging here and they wanted it. The wastewraith knew this and smiled a hideous smile as the maddened humans, driven by greed and the intense need to survive, dotted the horizon.

  Should he wait for the intruders? No. If they came upon Shawna in her weakened condition, they would make short work of her, so he bounded toward the intruders at full speed.

  The feral humans had no idea what hit them until it was too late. The wastewraith ripped each one to pieces in short order before any of the group of six could get a shot off from their rusty pipe rifles.

  One of the dwarfed ones attempted to escape, but the wastewraith pounced on it and ripped it up as well. Satisfied that Shawna was safe, it loped back toward the garage, leaving the carcasses exposed as a warning to those who would dare approach. A wastewraith victim had very obvious marks, and he made sure to leave plenty.

  He sniffed and caught wind of a group of unwashed bodies coming from the opposite direction. He swore silently and ran toward the intruders that were approaching from the east. He needed to act fast. He looked in and saw Shawna on the ground still unconscious and not showing any signs of changing, so he went full tilt toward the scent of those trying to intrude.

  This group wasn’t feral. These were worse—slavers. The wastewraith snarled as he remembered how he was once captured by slavers and forced into a sideshow attraction. He was brutalized on a daily basis and forced to do humiliating tricks for scraps of flesh. He knew what was in store for Shawna if they got their hands on her. He witnessed many a female slave being broken in before he managed to escape and that was no fate for anyone.

  The slavers were fast approaching and the wastewraith could hear their conversation.

  “We don’t need no scav,” one gruff male said.

  “Yes we do, the market’s been dry and we need some kind of thing to trade for food. I can’t believe all that’s out this way are stupid ferals. Can’t do shit with them,” a gravelly voice replied.

  “Yeah, all they do is kill their owners and run away until the collar blows their heads off. They don’t even work,” the first one said.

  “Yep. Who knows, maybe someone lives here,” the older one said. “Then we’ll have a fresh batch and we’ll be all good.”

  “Yeah, this place is too well kept up for it to be a feral colony. Maybe a settlement that’s just starting,” the young one replied. “Hmmm… hope they have some ladies. Those always fetch a great price over at the Vegas.”

  “Yeah. We could eat like kings if we manage to get one or two women.” The old one sighed. “Anyway, looks like we’re getting closer. Keep an eye out; if they figure out we’re slavers, we’ll get ourselves a third eyeball.”

  “Roger that,” the young guy replied.

  That’s when the wastewraith decided to pounce. The two men, dressed in weathered leather trousers and beat up old coats let out strangled screams as the wastewraith dispatched them. He felt pleased as he eviscerated the older one as he begged for mercy. Slavers were scum and didn’t deserve to live in his mind.

  Not smelling or hearing anymore threats, the wastewraith walked back to the garage to keep watch over the dying woman in his charge.

  He heard a loud shriek from the north and looked toward the horizon and saw a black speck growing larger as it approached. It was Freyna; he recognized the leader of his former tribe immediately. He felt a sense of dread as her massive wing beats drew her ever closer to the garage, but he couldn’t help but chuckle a grotesque gurgle of a sound at the sight of Winston clutched in her giant talons, dangling beneath her.

  He decided to stay and face his former leader, the one who tried to rip his heart out with her talons as he lay motionless on the ground, praying for the release of death. Being dead was better than living one’s life as a terror-filled abomination, doomed to wander the brown scrub land for as long as he lived, and that was a very long time.

  The giant bird released Winston from her talons as she hovered ten feet from the ground, stirring up dust with her powerful wing beats.

  Winston collapsed on the ground trying not to vomit from his terror filled flight.

  “Yeah, never doing that again,” he gasped.

  “Stop being such a chick,” Freyna chided as she landed.

  She was surrounded by a slight shimmer as she ch
anged into her human form.

  The wastewraith bowed his head in deference as the tall blonde woman stood before him. Her bright gold eyes flashed with anger at the sight of the obvious failure of her tribe.

  “What is this thing doing here?” she asked Winston coldly.

  “He’s keeping Shawna safe,” Winston explained as he noticed the blood covering the wastewraith’s hide. “And from the looks of things, doing a pretty good job of it.”

  “My thanks….” the wastewraith hissed. “I need to leave now,” he said as he looked away from the intimidating Freyna.

  “You are not free to leave, creature,” Freyna commanded coolly. “You are to remain here. You will be dealt with once and for all, you vile creature.”

  “As you command, milady,” it said bowing its head in deference. Maybe she had found a way to end his suffering?

  “May I ask… why?” Winston asked.

  “This… thing,” Freyna explained, “shouldn’t be. It was injured before it could go through the shifting ceremony, when we couldn’t find medicine for its infection, I wanted the parents to kill him before he changed into this thing you see before you,” she sneered. “The parents failed; this thing is a blight upon my tribe and must be destroyed. Other anima tribes might not care if they create wastewraiths, but I would rather not contribute to the problem.”

  “Milady, all I want is to die,” the wastewraith replied. “I have tried and tried to take my own life over the fifty years you had me banished. All attempts have failed. Drowning, shooting, falling off cliffs, I just regenerate faster than my body takes to die. I hope, great lady, that you have found a way to end my misery.”

  “I have, but for now you have our thanks for keeping Shawna from harm. You have done a great service today, and your reward shall be granted,” Freyna said.

  “Thank you, great Lady,” the wastewraith replied, elated that his torment was finally at an end. He didn’t want this, it was through no fault of his own that he was created, so he was able to be given the mercy of ending it.

  “Winston,” Freyna said, “where is the hume woman?”

  “In there,” he replied pointing to the dilapidated garage.

  “Let us hope it is not too late,” she said as she strode toward the destroyed building.

  Winston followed the tall, beautiful woman into the garage and was taken aback by the smell coming from Shawna. His nose wrinkled at the sour smell.

  “She needs to bathe,” he said.

  “Oh, she needs much more than that,” Freyna said as she knelt down next to the sweating woman. She put a pale hand on Shawna’s dark forehead to test her temperature. “It’s really high. Let us hope the baby is still alive inside,” she said as she moved her hands down to Shawna’s enlarged abdomen.

  Freyna palpated Shawna’s pregnant belly and felt a kick. “Well, the child seems well. Get me some water boiling so I can prepare the medicine for her. We can’t have her changing into a wastewraith on us, or else we will have to kill her before the transformation is complete.”

  Winston nodded. “That is what we do as well. Sometimes though, long in the past, we had leaders that would cause a youngling who had transgressed to become ill and turn into a wastewraith, and banish them as a punishment.”

  Freyna gasped. “What kind of transgression could warrant such a horrible punishment?”

  “Rape mostly. They come into their oats and haven’t been able to have the shifting ceremony if it happens during the winter. Some actually forced themselves on females… the object lessons were learned and we haven’t had any of that sort of problem since a gang of ten got turned.”

  Freyna shuddered. “We just throw ours off the highest bough and be done with it.”

  “As I said, it was my ancestor,” Winston replied. “We are no longer held by the crimes of our forefathers, right?”

  “No. No more. The past is to be learned from, not punished for,” Freyna replied as she watched steam rise from the bucket of water. She then broke up a green block into the boiling water and stirred it with a nearby stick.

  “What is it?” Winston asked as he crouched next to the immortal shaman.

  “Moldy bread, and various herbs to help bring her fever down and help her fight the venom,” Freyna replied. “Hopefully, we aren’t too late. You must have bought her some time by lancing it.”

  “Yes. She didn’t like it much but…” Winston said as he held Shawna’s clammy hand.

  He looked down at his beloved and felt terror welling in his chest. He might have to kill her and his unborn child and he didn’t know if he had it in him to do it. He felt hot tears welling up in his eyes as he watched Shawna struggle for breath against the infection that was ravaging her body.

  “Hold her head up so she doesn’t choke,” Freyna instructed.

  Winston did as he was bidden and watched as Freyna poured a measured dose of tea into Shawna’s mouth.

  The woman grimaced and sputtered as the bitter liquid flooded her mouth, but she swallowed it all. Freyna then took a cloth and dipped it into the remaining tea. She then lifted Shawna’s pant leg up over her knee to reveal a bright red and black calf muscle.

  “Well, it looks like we got here just in time. We kept her from changing, and hopefully kept your child from turning as well,” she said as she wrapped the astringent soaked cloth around the angry wound. “This will take about a week to work. I will leave you with the rest of the treatment. One mouthful three times a day until it’s gone. Use the rest to soak her bandages after she takes her dose, just like I have done.”

  Winston nodded. “My thanks, great lady,” he said.

  “Anything to keep another abomination from walking the wastes,” she replied. “Speaking of which, I need to reward our friend here.”

  “Dubious reward,” Winston said grimly.

  “Ah yes, but one he has been craving for fifty years or more. I shall leave you now,” Freyna said as she rose to her feet. “Remember, one mouthful three times per day for a week. You cannot travel before that.”

  “Understood,” Winston said as he sat next to his beloved. “When will I see improvement?”

  “She should improve in about two days if you keep it up. Make a broth for her to sip as well to keep her strength.”

  “I shall,” Winston said as he kept his eyes glued to his mate. “I owe you a great debt.”

  “That you do. One I shall probably collect on one day, Tiger,” Freyna replied as she left the garage.

  Winston looked outside and saw the tall woman shapeshift into a giant falcon and nod toward the wastewraith. The two took off through the wasteland toward the west. He then turned back to Shawna who muttered in her comatose state.

  “You’re going to live,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure of it.”

  *

  Shawna’s eyelids fluttered open and the first thing she saw was Winston’s amber eyes swimming with worry and concern.

  He let out a low cry as he scooped her up into his strong arms. “I thought you were gone, or worse,” he whispered.

  “Water… please,” was all she managed to gasp.

  She felt overwhelmed by Winston’s display of affection and that was all she could get out. She felt tears of relief well up in her eyes as Winston held her close to his muscular chest. His heartbeat thudded reassuringly as her head nestled against him.

  “Oh, yes, sorry,” he said as he gently put her down to her regret.

  “How long was I out for?” she asked as she struggled to sit up.

  “Almost a week. Two of those days I was gone to get your medicine,” he replied as he prepared her dose. “You’re going to need to take your dose before getting some water.”

  Shawna nodded as she managed to sit up. She noticed the throbbing in her leg wasn’t as bad as it had been before she went comatose. She was both thirsty and starving, but mostly thirsty. She also felt weak as a newborn kitten. In a panic, she put her hand on her swelling belly and sighed in relief as she felt a reassurin
g kick.

  “I’m getting further along. We can’t wait here much longer,” she said.

  “I know, but Freyna said we have to stay here for the week while you recuperate,” Winston explained.

  “Who’s Freyna?” Shawna asked sharply. “Better not be stepping out on me.” She was surprised by the surge of jealousy that welled up inside of her. Shawna wasn’t like that, and jealousy was frowned upon in the settlements.

  “Oh no, it’s not that. She’s the leader of the falcon tribe. She’s the one who gave us the medicine to save your life,” he explained as he crumbled a dark green cake into a pot of boiling water. “You need to take one swallow of this, then I change your dressing and put the rest on your wound. I don’t know how it works, but I’ll trust the falcon tribe. They have access to many things we don’t.”

  “Why’s that? Isn’t one spot in this hellhole the same as the rest?”

  “No. The giant forest they live in is full of stagnant water. It’s a horrible swamp full of awful creatures and plants. The falcon tribe has lived there since the bombs dropped and figured out how to harness the evils of such a place.”

  “Ah,” Shawna replied as she took the cup Winston offered. The liquid smelled vile but she knew that it would help her recover faster so she took one big swig, grimacing at the bitter, musty flavor. “Holy shit that’s horrible.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a fight to get you to take it over the past few days,” Winston said with a wry grin.

  “I bet. I can be stubborn,” she replied with a smile. “Thank you,” she said as her eyes brimmed with tears and love.

  “I would have done nothing less,” he replied as he kissed her forehead.

  “So, we have three more days here?” Shawna felt exhausted and was somewhat grateful for the rest but she knew that they were on a time constraint.

  “About that,” Winston replied as he removed the green bandage from Shawna’s calf. “It’s looking much better,” he said.