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Tiger Haven

Page 1

by Ariel Marie




  Tiger Haven

  Ariel Marie

  Copyright © 2017 by Ariel Marie

  Cover Design by Desiree DeOrto

  Edited by: Dana Hook at Rebel Edit & Design

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, events, and incidents are a figment of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, businesses, locations, history, and events are a coincidence.

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  A Note From The Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Letter To The Reader

  The Dark Shadows

  About the Author

  Also by Ariel Marie

  A Note From The Author

  WARNING: Due to the explicit language and graphic sexual scenes, this book is intended for mature (18 years +) readers only. If things of this nature offend you, this book would not be for you. If you like a good action story with hot steamy scenes with tiger shifters, then you have chosen wisely…

  * * *

  ~Ariel Marie

  1

  “There are many threats to animals in the wild,” Dr. Charlee Black announced to her young freshman biology class.

  She took in the lecture hall that was crammed with an estimated three hundred students and smiled. She loved educating young minds who were open to learn. It was a challenge, but well worth it to Charlee. These students were like putty in her hands, they just needed to be molded. Her freshman lecture was always packed and would have a wait list to get in it.

  “There are different levels to the threats that animals face. The ones that most concern scientists today are those that fit the criteria of endangered, critically endangered, and extinct in the wild.” She turned to the screen on the wall as she pointed her remote to the projector and clicked the button for her next slide.

  “Dr. Black, what about those that are extinct?” a young man asked with his hand raised in the middle of the lecture hall.

  “That’s a good question.” She nodded, enjoying how engaged her class was. “But, unfortunately, when an animal has reached that phase, we’re too late. No animal can come back from extinction.”

  Silence greeted her answer. It was hard to imagine a species no longer existing in the wild, and only existing in history books. This was reality. Plenty of animals were now extinct who many scientists tried to save, but to no avail. The species’ disappeared.

  “But that’s where you come in, right, Dr. Black?” Jenny asked.

  “Well, yes,” Charlee replied. She could tell that Jenny was bright and very interested in the field. The semester was only a third of the way through, and Jenny had made a few appointments with her as questions arose.

  Her heart skipped a beat just thinking of her research and the upcoming field assignment she would embark upon. Her life’s work as a Wildlife Biologist had led her all over the globe. She was an expert Mammologist, with her primary focus on the Amur tigers.

  “Outside of teaching, you’re trying to save certain animals, right? To keep them from becoming extinct?” Jenny continued. “Isn’t that hard if mankind doesn’t want to cooperate?”

  “Exactly!” Charlee exclaimed, a huge grin spreading across her face. “And that will take me into my next slide, Jenny. Thank you.”

  She continued her lecture, going in to how humans play a vital role in saving wildlife. With all the destruction of rainforests, and the millions of acres of forests used for man, animals in the wild were suffering. Charlee hoped and prayed that if she could educate at least one person about the dangers of animals going extinct, it could change the world. She believed that it would only take one person to hear her lecture, to be inspired to change the world.

  “Michael will cover my freshman lectures while I’m gone,” Charlee informed her secretary, Ellen. “For my sophomore classes, it will be Jim, and Brian will cover my junior and senior classes.”

  “And your emails?” Ellen asked, scribbling in her notebook while Charlee rummaged around her office, trying to decide what to take with her on her trip.

  It had been almost a year since Charlee had been on a field assignment, and she was excited. The past year had been spent in her lab, doing speaking engagements around the world and teaching at the local university. She had made a name for herself, and as one of the top senior species experts on tigers, it left her very little time to have a personal life. But lately, she was feeling like a caged animal, needing to break free. This trip was just what she needed.

  She would be traveling with a team to Far East Russia, to an area known as the Four Corners. It was a mountainous region that bordered Russia, China, Mongolia, and Kazakhstan. Charlee had received a call from the Russian government asking for her expertise to help secure the natural tiger habitat of the Four Corners.

  “I’ll leave the emails to be forwarded to you, and then you can disperse them as you see fit. You would know best who to distribute them to. I should only be gone a month, so hopefully, there won’t be too much to worry about while I’m gone.”

  Charlee didn’t know what she would do without Ellen. Her secretary was a middle-aged woman who ran the office with an iron fist.

  “Don’t worry, Dr. Black,” Ellen said. With a warm smile, she stood from her seat. Charlee blew out a sigh of relief. Of course, as she should have known, Ellen would take care of the office. “I’ll handle everything. They won’t even know that you’re gone.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Charlee advised. Walking over to Ellen, she gave her a tight hug.” I just wish I could take you with me.”

  “Me? In the rainforest? Ha!” Ellen laughed, patting her perfectly coifed graying hair. “Me and humidity do not get along.”

  Charlee chuckled as she watched her secretary leave the room. She glanced around her large office, taking in the overpacked bookcases, souvenirs, and artifacts she had collected over the years. Pride filled her chest as she took in her prized possessions. She had made a name for herself all right.

  At the young age of thirty-four, it was unheard of for a woman to accomplish so much in her field. But Charlee had busted her ass all her life to get to where she was. She graduated from high school at the young age of sixteen. While most girls her age were learning how to drive and going to homecoming dances, Charlee was already enrolled at the local university. By seventeen, she had published her first article in a distinguished journal that got her recognized as one of the youngest, most brilliant minds of the future.

  “Dr. Black, Ms. Benton is on the line for you. Do you want to take it? Or shall I take a message? Ellen’s voice floated through the air over the phone’s intercom.

  “I’ll take it,” Charlee replied, picking up her phon
e.

  “Very well,” Ellen said. “Ms. Benton, Dr. Black is on the line. Have a wonderful evening.”

  “Hey, Char!” Malena’s perky voice came through the line.

  “What’s up, Malena?” Charlee settled into her plush leather chair at her desk.

  “How’s the packing?”

  “Oh, you know me. Just getting started,” Charlee chuckled. “I’m a little rusty with the packing part of a trip, but you know, it’s like riding a bike. You never forget.”

  “No, I don’t remember hearing anyone compare packing for an expedition to riding a bike,” Malena giggled. “Do I need to come over and help you?”

  “No, I got it. I think with all my degrees, I can handle packing,” Charlee laughed, kicking her heels off underneath her desk. “I know you weren’t calling me about packing. What’s up?”

  “Well, sheesh. You would think a gal could call her BFF and chat a second before getting down to business,” Malena snorted.

  “I’m sorry,” Charlee groaned. “I’m stressing about handing over my classes to the guys and making sure I have everything handled before we leave.”

  Malena and Charlee had been best friends since undergraduate school. They had met their freshman year by getting assigned as roommates. It was a perfect match from day one. They had both majored in biology, completing undergrad school together, and even got their master’s degrees together. Charlee went on to get her post-doctorate degree and soon brought her best friend in as her assistant once she had secured a position at her current university.

  “You won’t have anything to worry about. Your classes will be in great hands, and you know Ellen will have that office taken care of. Matter of fact, I’ll bet money that your office will be cleaned and catalogued better than how you left it when you come back.”

  Charlee looked around her office and knew that Malena was right. Ellen had a special knack for cleaning that bordered along the lines of OCD.

  “You’re right,” she sighed into the phone as she rested her feet on her desk. She adjusted her skirt and prayed no one walked into her office, or they would catch an eye full.

  “Anyhow, I called about some news I received that I thought I would share with you. There’s one special interest group that I hear will be traveling to the same region that we’re set to observe.”

  “You have got to be shitting me,” Charlee gasped. She knew that when special interest groups got involved, things could become a mess. Certain groups believed that money and time were wasted on saving animals, and that their efforts would be better served going toward human causes.

  “Well, this one is apparently on our side. It’s a privately funded organization that has a special interest in tigers and preserving their natural habitat.”

  “Really? Which one?” Charlee’s brain started running a mile a minute at the possibility of connecting with a well-known group for donations. Yes, her job was rewarding, but if she was to accomplish anything, she would need money, and lots of it. And that was where the private sector always came in. They loved to donate big money in order to say that they helped changed the world.

  “An organization called SPAT.”

  “SPAT?” Charlee echoed. She was familiar with most of the larger wildlife conservation groups, but this one, she’d never heard of.

  “The Society for the Protection of Amur Tigers,” Malena read off. “I’ve been researching them, and they’re a very privately funded group. It’s headed up by a guy named Weston Rogavac. I looked him up, and he looks to be some wealthy guy who tries to stay out of the limelight. Most times, when his organization donates money to any fund, they do it anonymously.”

  “Well, if they’re on our side and going to the same region, I think I need to introduce myself.”

  “You may want to do more than introduce yourself.” Malena laughed.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, pulling the hair pins from her hair to free the thick, dark mass, which fell to her shoulders in waves. It was after hours and time for her to relax.

  “Pull him up on your computer,” Malena suggested with a giggle.

  Charlee dropped her feet to the floor while reaching for her mouse. She shook it to wake her computer up as she rolled her eyes at her friend.

  “Does this really matter?” Charlee muttered, typing his name into the internet search bar. “I just need a few minutes of his time to get him to donate money to our research.”

  “I think you may want more than a few minutes of Mr. Weston Rogavac’s time.” Malena’s voice dropped low with a seductive chuckle.

  “Really, Malena? At a time like this—” Charlee’s voice caught in her throat as the image of one Weston Rogavac appeared on her screen.

  Holy mother of God.

  His dark eyes bored into hers from the computer screen. His strong jawline was covered in a five o’clock shadow that gave him a rugged look, even though he was in a perfectly tailored suit.

  “Cat got the professor’s tongue?” Malena’s voice broke through Charlee’s lust filled fog.

  “Huh? I mean…yes, he’s good looking, but you know I don’t have time for love,” Charlee stammered, unable to take her eyes off his picture.

  “Who said anything about love? We’re going to be in the heat and humidity of Russia for a month. Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘What happens in the rainforest, stays in the rainforest?’”

  2

  It’s rare that a group of tigers would band together. In the wild, a tiger was known to be a solitary animal. But in the shifter world, it was quite common for the tiger shifters of the world to work together for the goodness of their wild counterparts. That was where SPAT came in. The Society for the Protection of Amur Tigers was an organization that was funded and ran by shifters.

  The shifter world was a secret society that humans weren’t aware of, and that’s the way shifters liked it. Humans would not be able to handle the fact that they were not the only ones living on Earth.

  “Have a good evening, Mr. Rogavac,” the doorman, Jeffrey, called out as he held the door open for West.

  “Have a good night, Jeffrey. Check at the desk, I left you a little gift.” West smiled as he walked to the waiting dark sedan.

  “Thank you, sir!” Jeffrey called out behind him. West knew that tomorrow was Jeffrey’s birthday, and was an avid fan of the Cleveland Cavaliers. So West took it upon himself to leave two floor side tickets to tomorrow’s game for the doorman.

  Weston Rogavac may have grown up wealthy beyond anyone’s imagination, but he had always remained grounded. “Treat your employees as you would want to be treated, and they will be loyal forever” was drilled into his head by his late father, Novak Rogavac.

  “Mr. Rogavac,” his driver Mason greeted him.

  “Evening, Mason.” West nodded to his driver as he unbuttoned his suit jacket before settling into the plush, luxury sedan. The shutting of the door cut off the noise from the street, leaving him in a comforting silence.

  West glanced up at the building that his family built from he ground up. His family’s building was located in the heart of downtown Cleveland. The building stretched high into the clouds, with Rogavac Industries plastered across the front of it. Pride filled his chest as he thought of what the building stood for. The Rogavac family was one of the wealthiest shifter families in the world.

  Rogavac Industries was the powerhouse in the biomedical engineering field, with their hands in all the latest medical technologies. His company was involved in many projects that would change the future of medicine, everything from advanced medical machines for physicians to diagnose the latest diseases, to designing state-of-the-art artificial limbs. Their latest advancement would be announced—the first artificial kidney—within the next year or so.

  His family’s name would go down in the history books, but as a human owned company. The general public would know of their work and accomplishments, but never know that it was shifters who developed the technology.

  “Ho
me, sir?” Mason’s deep voice floated through the partition.

  “No, take me to The Deck,” West instructed, speaking of the trendy bar that he had begun to favor recently. It was located on the bank of the Flats, an up-and-coming area in Cleveland, located on Lake Erie. “I’m meeting Luka for drinks tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Luka Batalo and West had been friends since they were cubs; their families longtime friends. It was only natural that both tiger cubs would grow up and stay close friends. In college, West studied business at one of the most lucrative schools in the country, while Luka studied biomedical engineering. It was a no-brainer for Luka to come work for West.

  The sound of a phone ringing gained West’s attention from the passing city scenery. He pulled his cell phone from his inner jacket pocket and checked the screen.

  His mother.

  “Evening, Mother,” West answered.

  “Why so formal, Weston?” the musical voice of his mother, Inez Rogavac, came across the line.

  “No reason. Just now leaving the office,” he replied, a small smile appearing on his face. He rubbed his jaw and winced from the stubble that covered his skin.

  “You sound tired. Don’t be out too late. Your plane leaves early in the morning,” Inez reminded him. He smirked, thinking that no matter how old he was, she would always try to mother him.

  “I’ll be fine, Mom,” he chuckled. “Luka and I are just stopping for drinks and to discuss a little informal SPAT business.

 

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