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ChapterOne
Raoul
I prowlalong the city streets, my senses on high alert—as ever. I know what I'm looking for, but I don't know how I'll know when I find it. All I know is that I willknow. And I know that doesn't make much sense, but that's the way of our mating.
To the disappointment of many of the females in our streak, none of them call to me as my mate, and tiger streaks aren't the same as lion prides. Whereas if a lion doesn't find his fated mate in his pride, he will still marry within his pride, settling for less just to keep the bloodline pure, that's not the way of us tigers. We know that not only will marrying your true fated mate make you as strong as you can be, but it will lead to a happier tiger who will perform better for the entire streak. It not only benefits the tiger in question, but the streak as a whole, and since I am the tiger king, it's doubly important for me to find my fated mate rather than settling. I'm not only seeking her for my own happiness, but for the well-being of my entire streak.
Still, it's a bitch and a pain in my ass that I couldn't have been fated to one of the females in my streak. It certainly would have made this a lot easier. But, of course, as fate would have it, I have yet to stumble across my mate, so I'm out here looking for her.
It's unlikely I'll find her at work since most of the businesses my streak runs are employed almost exclusively by members of our streak. The lions might have their hands in oil and all the transportation businesses, but us tigers are in control of most of the agricultural ones. I happen to be the CEO of the biggest agricultural importing and exporting business in the city.
I snarl when I walk past the lion king’s high rise. The fuckers keep charging so much for gas prices, and it's making it more difficult for my business to turn a profit. It's also making it difficult for the entire population because everybody needs food, and that's what my business supplies.
The fucking lions are the supposed kings of the jungle. They’re supposed to look out for everyone, but they’re nothing but a bunch of cutthroats looking to gouge anyone any way they can. They essentially fuck the entire world up the ass.
I continue to walk along the street amongst all the humans and other shifters going about their day-to-day work. Of course, the humans know about us shifters. They know the lions are in charge of the oil and the tigers are in charge of agriculture and that the wolves just don't give a fuck and like to stay off in the mountains to themselves. Wolves have always been selfish creatures. The bears are over the fishing industry and help the humans somewhat.
Regardless, there's one thing all of us shifters have in common. We have designated reservations where we do our shifting. When we're around humans and within city limits, we’re to remain in our human form at all times. That is the one big law among our kind concerning the humans. While the humans know there are shifters among them, they can't tell just by looking at us what we are, and it just stresses so many of them to see one of us shift in front of them. Plus, it's also detrimental to their safety oftentimes, so that's why the council over the shifters put the law in place in the first place. It's much more difficult to control our animalistic natures when we're in our animal forms, and that oftentimes leads to humans getting hurt. They're such delicate creatures, sensitive and in need of our care and protection, whether or not they realize it.
I scowl, my irritation rising to new heights as I realize my search has been fruitless. It could take me years to find my mate at this rate, and I'm impatient enough as it is. I can't focus on properly ruling my streak with this insatiable need inside me. I'm a tiger in his prime, and my biological clock is screaming at me to take my mate. And I would gladly do so if only I could find her.
I grunt as someone bumps into me—hard. But the impact doesn't hurt me at all or barely budge me. Still, it's enough to garner my attention, and my hands shoot out to steady the tiny female in front of me before she topples to the ground. A reprimand about how she should watch where she's going is on the tip of my tongue. I'm usually not so rude, but she caught me in a bad moment.
My sharp words die on my tongue, though, when her eyelashes flutter up to me. I'm assaulted by her big blue eyes. They’re a crystal-clear blue, the blue of a cloudless sky on a summer day. My chest tightens as they hold me captive. I’m unable to tear my gaze from their shining depths.
My breathing becomes ragged as all the neurons in my brain fire. My blood rushes through my veins, hot and heavy. I'm hyper-aware of her bare shoulders underneath my fingertips where I'm still gripping her. The feeling of her skin underneath mine sends electricity shooting through my palms and up my arms.
Her puffy pink lips fall open in a little gasp, and I finally tear my eyes away from her blue orbs long enough to note that her hair is a fiery red. It’s a beautiful mane of curls that cascades down her back in luxurious waves. She looks like one of those pretty porcelain dolls women collect. Her skin is creamy and silky and smooth. I can tell she’s not wearing any makeup, yet she’s flawless. She looks too flawless to be real.
She smells young and innocent and ripe, like fresh berries. She's undoubtedly a virgin and young. So very young. Dainty. Pretty. Gorgeous. There aren’t enough adjectives to describe what she is, what she makes me feel.
I already know she's my mate before a word comes out of her mouth, so all the other points are moot. Still, I ask her anyway, “How old are you?”
Her pretty brow furrows, and she looks up at me in confusion. “What?” Her voice is so soft and pretty, like a light tinkling of bells, and fuck if it doesn't make my cock hard.
“Are you eighteen?” I ask her, my voice coming out more roughly than I intend.
She blinks at me obviously, taken aback before she bristles. “No.”
My heart plummets. Fuck, how can she be my mate if she's not even of legal age…
“I'm nineteen.”
Relief crashes through me. Humans claim to understand a bit of our mating rituals, but they have their own laws. I don’t need to be making trouble with them by getting involved with a minor, so thank fuck, my mate is legal. She's barely legal, but legal.
I inhale a deep breath, trying to get a deeper read on her scent. I don't smell any shifter in her at all. She's pure human, and while it's not unheard of for shifters to have a human mate, it’s rare for someone higher in the hierarchy like me. A tiger king almost always has a shifter mate, someone who understands the streak’s ways and can help him with his leadership.
My little mate is certainly no tigress, but there's no helping it. Every atom in my body is screaming at me she's the one, and I'm helpless to fight this even if I wanted to. Which I don't.
My eyes greedily drink her in. My mate is beautiful. She's everything I could have ever wanted and more. I never imagined one so perfect. The way I'm staring at her must start to freak her out because she pulls against my hold and apologizes weakly, “Yeah, I'm sorry I bumped into you. I'm late for work—”
She lets out a little oomph as I suddenly pick her up and fling her over my shoulder caveman style. I don't give a fuck that we're in the middle of a busy street. I dare anyone to try to stop me from taking my mate.
She screeches, “Put me down!” She tries to kick, but I band my arm around her legs and hold her little dress down so that no other males get a flash of the sweet ass that is mine. The scent of her pussy drifts over to my nostrils, and I inhale deeply, precum leaking from the tip of my cock in response.
I begin stalking down the street with her. A few humans stop and stare, but none dare challenge me. I can tell who the shifters are already because one glance at us and they look hurriedly away, knowing better than to get involved in the tiger king’s claiming of his mate. They know very well what's going on.
My mate keeps kicking and screaming as I carry her into my building and go straight for the elevator. Only when we're locked inside do I set her on her feet and stare down at her intently, taking in the beautiful flush to her cheeks and the way her blue eyes are flashing with anger rather than fear.
