Royal Guard Tiger (Shifter Kingdom Book 2)

by Zoe Chant

  He didn’t make it easy for her and take a step away. He stood there, letting her lean against him for as long as she needed to before she gathered herself and moved, knee-walking one sideways step away from him.

  The presence of the lion and tiger were suddenly all she could sense, so vivid she could smell them, hear them, almost see them even in that utter darkness. She could sense their wildness, their power. If these spirits had ever shared a soul with a human shape, it had been a long, long time ago. She had no idea how to ask them for help, how to be guided by them.

  “Tristan? Do you know what the stones are for? They’re not just—ancestors, or gods, are they?”

  No, Tristan said. They’re our source. The king, together with the Guardians, can use them to make humans into shifters. I don’t know how it works—the Guardians have always been set apart on their mountain, and the stones were stolen before I was born.

  The guardians used the stones to create new shifters. Meaning they could, what, siphon off a little of this wild, ancient tiger spirit and put it into someone? Place just enough tiger inside them to make them a shifter, without draining all the spirit from the stone, without overwhelming a human with a tiger they couldn’t control.

  “All guardians are human, aren’t they,” Poppy said. “Guardians have to be human.”

  Yes, Tristan said. When I was young I was told it was the reason that humans were sometimes born in shifter families. So there could be guardians.

  There wouldn’t be room in a shifter for another piece of the tiger in the stone. Only a human, a guardian, could bring part of the tiger out of the stone, and pass it on—that part must be where the king came into it.

  But Poppy didn’t need to give the tiger in the stone to anyone. She only needed to bring it far enough out of the stone to talk to her.

  “Okay,” Poppy said. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen here, but I think I know what I have to do.”

  I’ll be here, was all Tristan said. I’ll do anything I can to help.

  “Can you pick up the lion stone and take it a little way away?” Poppy tapped her fingernails lightly against the lion stone, feeling the lion just on the other side of that surface—but not nearly as interested in her as the tiger was, and not really hers to be so close to, she knew.

  Tristan moved, following the small ticking sound, and she felt the hot gust of his breath before his teeth closed gently around the stone, picking it up like the tiniest kitten. He carried it away until Poppy could feel nothing but cool, empty space around her.

  She kept her eyes squeezed shut and hurriedly unlaced her hiking boots, skinning out of her clothes, just in case this worked the way she thought it might.

  Poppy? What...

  “Just a hunch,” she said, and then she knelt on the cold stone, and closed both of her hands on the tiger stone.

  Please, come here, show me the way to bring you home.

  She heard a growl, felt an impossible leap across no distance at all, and then felt the tiger within her, bright and strong and too big for her skin to contain. She felt herself stretching all over, changing, her smooth skin to striped fur, her arms and legs thickening, her fingernails turning to wicked claws.

  Poppy looked around as the tiger and found she could see everything. Tristan, standing a little distance off, was watching her intently, holding the lion stone in his mouth still.

  He was, she now realized, quite a well-made tiger. She had only been able to see Wow! Tiger! before this, but now she understood what a tiger should be, and preened with the realization that her mate was quite an excellent one.

  Poppy?

  Yes, she said, reminded that her mate was waiting for her to finish what they had come here to do. She carefully picked up the tiger stone between her powerful new jaws, carrying it as delicately as she would a kit.

  This way, she told Tristan. We’re almost there.

  Then she leaped forward and began to run, enjoying the power of the tiger’s form. Her mate was right on her heels, unhesitating as he chased her, and she led him through one twisting tunnel after another, never setting a foot wrong. There was a place where they had to leap over an abyss that seemed bottomless, dark even to the tiger eyes the stone had given her, but she cleared it easily, and an instant later Tristan landed right behind her.

  What was that? He asked. Why did we jump it?

  Poppy stopped, nearly tumbling over herself with the momentum she’d built up. Couldn’t you see?

  No, I told you I couldn’t. I’m following you.

  Stay with me, then, she told him, and ran onward into the mountain’s heart.

  *~*~*

  Chapter 15 - Tristan

  As soon as he saw a glimmer of light ahead, Tristan pulled even with Poppy. He had smelled and heard the change in her, sensed it, but to see her at his side as a tigress was something else entirely. They matched this way, fit together in a way he could never have imagined fitting with Poppy. For all that he loved her human, it was wonderful to share this with her, to have her really know what it was to be a shifter, a tiger, at his side.

  He had only a moment to feel that before they reached the tunnel’s top, emerging into the dazzlingly bright day near the top of the mountain. Just outside the tunnel the ground was unnaturally flat, smoothed into a sort of plaza. A blackened hearth at the center was cold and empty, and around the circle of the plaza was a low wall.

  There were nine obvious niches in the wall, and a number of smaller ones arranged around and between them.

  The great stones and the small, Tristan recalled, from some old story. The great stones are for the oldest, largest clans—there was only one bird stone, the raptor. But different bird clans made their own stones and placed them here. The same for other kinds of shifters.

  The tiger and lion are both great stones. The lion—there, where the gold of the sun will reach him.

  Tristan nodded and carried the stone to the spot Poppy had indicated, thinking of Kai, their new crown prince, soon to be king. What would it mean for his clan, his line, to have the stone returned to its place?

  Tristan set down the stone gently in its niche and turned to watch Poppy place the tiger stone a little way around the circle. Tristan would have smiled, in his human form, at Poppy’s obvious instinct not to put the great cats too near each other.

  There must be balance, Poppy told him, backing away from the niche, her tiger tail flicking a little. We can’t be all cats for too long—the lion and tiger will fight for ascendancy, and all other clans will suffer.

  Poppy shook herself all over, stepping close to the tiger stone and nosing at it. Tristan moved a little closer, not wanting to interrupt her obvious focus. He could sense that there was something unfinished here, the ritual not yet completed. He glanced at the cold hearth again, then back to Poppy, who was focused wholly on the tiger stone.

  She tore her attention away from it suddenly, looking at him with wide eyes, uncanny green in her tiger’s face. Tristan. How do I change back? How do I put the tiger back?

  Tristan hurried to her then, pressing close to his mate as he began to feel her struggle to shift. She hadn’t really done it herself, the first time; she had let the tiger spirit from the stone enter into her, and it had shaped her into this tiger form. But she wasn’t—hadn’t been—a shifter, and had no real control over it.

  Remember who you are, Tristan told her. Remember what you are. You are human, my own.

  But I am not.

  It was not Poppy’s voice, and Tristan jerked back from the vastness of it, coiling himself as he snarled. Poppy’s eyes glowed an unearthly gold, the shape of her changing further, growing large. The tiger spirit was taking over.

  Leave her. Tristan snarled aloud. She is your Guardian, not your vessel. She carried you home, she has done what you needed.

  What would you know of what I need, cub? I have been locked in that stone, alone, for countless years.

  Tristan roared and lunged at the uncanny tiger. He kept
his claws in, his teeth far from her fur, but he had a feeling that touching Poppy—his Poppy, however hidden in the shape of the tiger—would help her find her way.

  Leave her!

  He bowled the tiger over, and suddenly the form under him was not a tiger but his own Poppy, slim and human, fragile and small and pale under his paws. She was horribly still, her bright eyes closed, and he barely had time to catch the sound of her heart beating before he heard another tiger’s roar and moved to stand between her and the tiger spirit—now separate from her, looking solid though Tristan had a feeling it could not be, or not for long.

  You belong in the stone, Tristan insisted. You will be honored again as you always should have been. You are home now.

  The tiger snarled and Tristan leaped at the same time it did, meeting it in midair to keep it away from Poppy lying limp on the stones.

  I could have a home in her, the spirit offered, even as Tristan snarled and grappled with the all-too-solid thing, his claws turned aside by thick fur, his teeth unable to get a grip. I could leave a part of myself in her always. She would be a true match for you then, a shifter like you. You could take her home.

  Tristan roared right in its face, flipping the tiger spirit onto its back with a furious heave. She is my mate, just as she is. I would not change her against her will to please anyone. Now release her and return to where you belong.

  He heard Poppy stir behind him and roared again, bracing himself to keep the tiger spirit pinned down—but as suddenly as it had appeared it vanished. Tristan spun around to see Poppy kneeling by the stone again, pressing one pale hand against its surface.

  Tristan shifted human himself, hoping she hadn’t seen too much of that—she was the special guardian of the tiger stone, she might not like him fighting its spirit that way—but when she turned away from the stone she threw herself into his arms.

  “Thank you,” she gasped. “For a second there it was—it was like I wasn’t there at all, it was just swallowing me up, and then—”

  “You were right, that’s all.” Tristan held her tight against him. “Sometimes you need backup.”

  Poppy nodded, her red hair flying wildly and shining like copper in the sun, and Tristan pulled her up higher in his arms to kiss her. She kissed back just as eagerly, fiercely, pulling back only to say, “Plus I got to see you fight tiger style, that was—”

  Tristan kissed her again, harder, torn between shame at her having seen him that way and an undeniable urge to claim his mate, now that he had won her from such a powerful adversary. They were both naked, and Poppy’s skin felt hot and soft against his; he was hardening for her with every beat of his racing heart, and he needed her. He needed her to be his, entirely, only.

  “Yes,” Poppy gasped, “yes, Tristan, please.”

  Tristan pulled back just enough to see that beyond the little plaza at the tunnel’s mouth, there was a grassy slope. He carried Poppy to the low wall surrounding the stone plaza and let her down on the other side. He bounded after her in the next second, but Poppy was already running away with a laugh, following a curve of the slope up higher.

  Tristan followed her, tackling her gently to the turf in a spot with a dazzling view of the ocean. He caught her hands and pressed his mouth to the nape of her neck, and Poppy went still under him, suddenly pliant.

  “My own,” he whispered. “My Guardian to guard, now and forever.”

  “Yes.” Poppy wriggled deliciously under him, pressing back against his hardness so he could feel her, soft and sweet and yielding under him. “My sweet tiger, make me yours, make me—”

  Tristan slid one hand under her then, cupping and teasing her breast as he kissed the back of her neck, nipping and sucking to make pink marks that showed brightly on her pale skin. Poppy rippled and writhed under him, pressing her hips back against him as she wordlessly begged for more.

  Tristan slid his hand down then, over the little curve of her belly and between her legs. The curls there were already wet, and when his fingertips found her secret folds, she was wetter still, and hotter.

  Poppy was moaning, rocking her hips between his hand and his cock, as if she didn’t know which she wanted more. Tristan moved over her, nudging her thighs apart and angling her hips up. Poppy’s hands closed into fists, tearing up the green grass and sending that sweet smell into the air, making the tail end of summer smell like the start of spring.

  He lined himself up and slid inside her, his way slicked with her desire, and though he meant to be gentle he couldn’t stop from pushing to his full length in one fast slide. Poppy cried out, but she was pushing back against him as she did it, joy and pleasure evident in every line of her body and humming intangibly between them.

  My mate. Tristan kept moving inside her, wringing sounds of bliss from her as he struggled to control himself when her body wrapped around him so sweetly. After a little while he moved, kneeling up and bringing Poppy with him so that she was sitting on his lap with him buried deep inside her.

  “Oh, oh,” Poppy gasped at the change in position, throwing her head back against his shoulder and moaning with pleasure.

  Tristan had both hands free to touch her, then, stroking at the little bud between her legs with one hand, making her writhe in ecstasy, rising and falling on him as she did. His other hand explored her, stroking her breasts and all her lovely fair skin as it flushed pink with exertion and delight. He bent his head to nibble at the side of her throat, and she twisted to kiss him.

  She was breathing too hard to keep her lips pressed to his, but Tristan kissed her again and again as he made love to her, driving her to the brink of pleasure. It wasn’t long before she went over it, her body tightening around him as she cried out against his mouth.

  Tristan held her to him, thrusting into her a last few times before he found his own release, spilling deep inside her as he held her. He buried his face against her shoulder as he caught his breath, still gripping her tight.

  He felt Poppy’s heartbeat slowing, her breathing steadying from its pleasured frenzy, and his own body was soothed by hers. After a time he picked his head up and looked out with her from their great height. They could have been the only people in the world up here on the mountaintop, looking out at the sparkling ocean.

  Finally they eased apart, walking quietly back down the grassy slope to the plaza. Tristan stopped short at the sight of a small, blue flame lit in the hearth at the center.

  “Ha,” Poppy said, squeezing his hand and looking up at him with a bright-eyed smirk. “I thought it might be something like that. I bet at least one of us can see the way back down in the tunnel, too.”

  Tristan shook his head and caught her up for another kiss before they headed back down the mountain, hand in hand.

  *~*~*

  Chapter 16 - Poppy

  Poppy picked up her clothes in the tunnel when they reached them. Tristan was still in his tiger shape, just in case the tunnel wouldn’t allow him to pass the other way in his human shape, and Poppy was still flying too high on the success of her first act of guardianship—and lighting that fire with Tristan—so she didn’t bother putting them back on until they got down to the bottom. She had assumed Tristan’s clothes would be waiting there, all neatly folded, but instead discovered a bunch of tatters of cloth piled together with Tristan’s shoes and socks. Someone had, tactfully, left a folded blanket.

  Poppy covered her mouth but couldn’t quite stifle a giggle, even as her heart went warm with the awareness of how Tristan had rushed to join her as soon as he realized how.

  Tristan himself just gave a tiger’s chuff and shifted back to his human shape, and Poppy found that in bright sunlight, at least, she could detect a flush on the tops of his cheeks and ears. She kissed him again when she had her clothes on and he was wearing the blanket like a cape, somehow managing to look dignified while carrying his shoes and what was left of his clothes.

  They didn’t go far down the road before they spotted their packs beside the door of the hous
e with the apple trees.

  “Go on in!” Someone shouted, and Poppy turned to see Fredrik standing at the curve in the road. He waved to them happily. “It might be a bit dusty, but it’s all yours!”

  “How is Estella?” Poppy called back, and even at a distance she could see Fredrik’s wide smile.

  “Much better! Thank you, Guardian!”

  Fredrik turned away, leaving them to explore their new home. Poppy had barely pushed the door open before Tristan was crowding up behind her, lifting her into his arms. The blanket slipped rather precariously, but they were nearly inside.

  Nearly, but not quite. Poppy beamed up at her mate as she realized what he meant to do, looping her arms around his neck and tugging him down for a kiss before he stepped inside, carrying her over the threshold and into the home they would share.

  It was dim inside, making it hard at first to tell anything about the house at all. The windows were all covered with wooden shutters that let in only slivers of light. Poppy wriggled out of Tristan’s grip after one more kiss, eager to explore, and went from one room to another, throwing the shutters wide.

  The windows had no glass in them, and there certainly was plenty of dust. Poppy thought the fine layer had been shaken loose by the earthquake more than accumulated in its years of absence.

  But the little house stood solid and sturdy, and the wooden furniture was old-fashioned and beautiful, and had weathered the years of neglect, as well as the recent shaking.

  The house was nothing grand—not like the hotel room she’d stayed in with Tristan—but it was cozy and bright, once the windows were open and letting in the mountain air and sun. There were two slant-ceilinged bedrooms upstairs. One would be their bedroom, Poppy instantly decided; there was a big bedframe there already, though without a mattress. She looked at Tristan across the width of it, and the heat in his eyes kindled an answering warmth in her, though she could still feel the delicious ache from earlier between her legs.