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The pungent aroma of danger intensified, choking me.
But it was combined with another fragrance — wild and untamed.
The smell of the jungle, of rain-drenched grass, and of a powerful beast.
My tiger.
Sneik’s previously smug expression vanished, replaced with genuine alarm.
He whirled around to face my magnificent white tiger.
Even in spirit form, the beauty of its sleek muscles, the pattern of its majestic stripes, and the fierce intelligence in its blue eyes, identical to the ink on my forearm, was breathtaking.
The sound, too, was mesmerizing.
The growls rumbled like distant thunder, and the very air vibrated with the beast’s raw power.
And then, it launched.
I could almost feel the rush of wind as it leaped, its massive body airborne, fur bristling and fangs bared.
The world seemed to move in slow motion.
The softness of its fur conflicted with the sheer power of its form.
As they tumbled, I could hear the tearing of fabric, the pained yelps from Sneik, the determined growls of the tiger.
But the ferocity of the encounter was short-lived.
Sneik, using his brutish strength, managed to grasp the tiger around its midsection.
With a herculean effort, he swung and hurled the spirit beast against a wall.
The heart-wrenching thud it made sent a shockwave of pain through me.
“No!”
The word tore from my throat, a raw scream of despair.
Before my very eyes, the tiger evaporated into a misty puff, dissipating into nothingness.
The room was eerily quiet.
Sneik was still, his massive chest heaving with exertion.
His eyes darted around wildly, clearly expecting another animal assault.
His sense of superiority was gone, replaced with paranoid wariness.
The fear was almost palpable, a thick, acrid smell that burned my nostrils.
And then, the unexpected.
Still scanning the room, Sneik failed to notice the obstacle at his feet.
With a yelp, he tripped over what looked like a fallen piece of furniture, crashing down hard, his head connecting with the floor.
There was a sickening thud and then… silence.
