Chapter 2 Is it a prank?
"Stay away, you pervert! Put on some pants!" Lily screams, arm still swinging to launch another handful of sand.
Her heart hammered so hard it felt like it would burst out of her chest, her mind a chaotic mess of noise.
Why did the tiger turn into a huge blonde guy? Was this some magic welcome? Did Mei Mei say this was that kind of retreat? And why was it so big?
Mid-swing, the boy's smile drops.
His amber eyes snap to the treeline behind Lily, pupils narrowing into slits. A low, guttural snarl rumbles in his throat—nothing like the playful irritation from a second ago, this one is pure, unfiltered fear.
"Be silent," he hisses, moving faster than Lily can follow.
One large hand clamps over her mouth, the other yanking her roughly behind the mossy rock she'd been sitting on.
His body tenses, muscles coiled like a spring, and Lily's protests die in her throat as she feels the ground vibrate beneath her knees.
A roar splits the air—louder, deeper, more terrifying than anything she's ever heard. It's not the tiger's roar. This one shakes the leaves off the trees, makes the earth tremble, makes Lily's teeth rattle in her skull.
The boy's face goes pale. "Catastrophe beast," he mutters, his voice tight. "I should've smelled it earlier—too distracted by your yelling."
Before Lily can process what that means, the boy's form blurs.
Dust and wind swirl around him again, but this time, he doesn't shrink—he grows. His muscles bulk up even more, his golden fur thickens into a shaggy pelt striped with jet-black, his claws lengthening into dagger-sharp talons.
He's bigger than before—taller, broader, an apex predator in every sense of the word. The only thing that stays the same are his amber eyes, now glowing faintly in the dappled light.
He turns his massive head toward her, and his voice booms in her mind—deep, resonant, no longer the boy's casual tone but something ancient and fierce.
'Get on. I can't fight it and protect you at the same time. We have to run.'
Lily freezes, her brain short-circuiting again. Fight? Protect? Run from what?
The bushes to their left explode outward.
A beast steps through—taller than three tigers stacked on top of each other, with a massive, crocodile-like jaw lined with serrated teeth, scales like polished obsidian, and legs thick as tree trunks that end in claws the size of Lily's forearm.
It looks like a T-Rex, but wrong—meaner, bigger, hungrier. Its eyes glow a sickly red, and it sniffs the air, letting out another ear-splitting roar that makes Lily's ears bleed.
She doesn't need any more prompting.
Scrambling onto the tiger's back, she wraps her arms tight around his thick neck, her fingers digging into his shaggy fur.
The tiger doesn't waste a second—he launches forward, his paws thudding against the dirt as he bolts away from the catastrophe beast.
The wind whips through Lily's hair, and she squeezes her eyes shut, clinging on for dear life as the beast's roars fade behind them, only to be replaced by the sound of its thunderous footsteps chasing them.
They run for ten solid minutes—through thick underbrush, over fallen logs, up a steep hill that makes Lily's muscles scream.
Finally, the tiger skids to a halt in front of a barricade made of sharpened logs and woven branches, draped with the skins of animals Lily has never seen before.
Two figures step out from behind the barricade—both tall, both muscular, both shifting from bear form to human as they approach, their fur fading into skin.
"Tigris!" one of them calls—he's a burly man with a beard that covers half his face, and he stares at Lily, perched on Tigris's back, with his mouth hanging open. "What in the—"
"Patrick," Tigris rumbles, his voice still echoing in Lily's mind. His tiger form shrinks back into the blonde boy, and he's naked again, but Lily doesn't care—she's too busy gasping for breath, her legs wobbly as she slides off his back.
"There's a catastrophe beast ten minutes from here. Round up the warriors. I'll deal with the rest."
He glances down at Lily, his amber eyes sharp. "This female is mine. I'm going to mark her."
Patrick's eyes go wide. "Mark her? But who is s—"
"Just do it," Tigris snaps. He grabs Lily's wrist, his fingers warm and strong, and starts pulling her toward a cluster of caves carved into the side of the hill.
Lily stumbles after him, her brain finally catching up to what he'd said.
Wait.
Mark her?
"Wait a second!" she yells, yanking her wrist out of his grip. "What do you mean mark me?! Mark me for what?! And where the hell are we?! Where's Mei Mei?!"
Tigris doesn't slow down.
He doesn't even look back. He just keeps walking, his bare feet thudding against the dirt, as the villagers stare—some shifting from animal to human, some from human to animal, all of them staring at Lily like she's a ghost.
Lily's heart sinks.
His grip on her wrist never tightens, not even when she stumbles over a gnarled root or trips on the loose gravel that lines the path to the caves.
It's a surprising gentleness, given his earlier ferocity, the way his fingers adjust to her unsteady steps like he's afraid to hurt her even as he hustles her toward safety.
The cave mouth looms ahead, shadowed and cool, a stark contrast to the sweltering heat of the forest outside.
Inside, it's surprisingly dry, the walls smooth and worn, lit by the faint glow of glowing moss that clings to the stone like scattered stars.
There's a pile of soft furs in the corner, a makeshift bed, and a small hearth filled with cold ash—evidence that this is his space, his home.
Tigris finally lets go of her wrist, his amber eyes scanning the cave quickly before settling back on her.
His expression is hard, unyielding, but there's a flicker of something else—warning, maybe, or a hint of concern.
"Stay here," he says, his voice low and rough, no longer the booming echo in her mind but a gravelly baritone that rumbles in his chest.
"Don't leave the cave. Don't make a sound. The catastrophe beast isn't the only danger out there, and the warriors will be busy. It's not safe for you."
Lily blinks, her brain still spinning like a top, her mouth dry.
The words register, but they don't make sense—not really.
Not when one minute she'd been sunbathing on a beach with Mei Mei, and the next she'd been throwing sand at a naked tiger guy and running from a monster that looked like a nightmare T-Rex.
She shakes her head, her hands coming up to press against her temples like she can physically squeeze the chaos out of her thoughts.
"Wait—this is a prank, right?" she says, her voice cracking a little, half hope and half desperation.
"A reality show? Mei Mei put you up to this, didn't she? She's been bugging me about 'spicing up my vacation' for weeks—this is her idea of a joke, isn't it? The costumes are great, by the way, super realistic, but can we cut it out now? I'm kind of freaked out."
Tigris's jaw tightens. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't even smile.
He just stares at her, like he's trying to understand a language he doesn't speak, before he turns toward the cave mouth.
"I don't have time for this," he says, and there's a sharp edge to his tone now, a reminder of the predator beneath the skin.
"Stay here, okay? If you need anything, go to the female in the tribe, tell them you are my female, Tigris, is my name." With that, he steps back into the sunlight, his form already beginning to blur, and the sound of his paws thudding away fades into the distance.
Lily stands there for a long moment, staring at the empty cave mouth, her heart still hammering in her chest.
Then, slowly, she sinks down onto the pile of furs, her legs giving out beneath her.
She fumbles in the pocket of her cutoff shorts—thank god she'd kept them on, even when she'd been throwing sand—and pulls out her phone.
The screen lights up, bright and familiar, and she taps the signal bars, as if willing them to fill in. But they're still empty.
No service. No Wi-Fi. No bars.
Just a dead, blank screen staring back at her, the wallpaper a photo of her and Mei Mei grinning on the beach that morning.
She drops the phone onto the fur beside her, her shoulders slumping.
The cave is quiet now, except for the distant roar of the catastrophe beast, faint but still loud enough to make her blood run cold.
This isn't a prank.