Pregnant With His Liger Baby

He looked very much as he’d done in her dream. Tawny hair flowed in long waves all down his back, and she could tell even through his T-shirt that he was rippling with muscles. His abdomen was flat, and his hips were slim. And when he cast her a smile in greeting, she realized that he was devastatingly handsome. How had she missed that before?

I’m only here to do his favor, she reminded herself. This is probably the last time I’ll see him. I mustn’t get attached. Especially not to a lion.

“You took your time getting here,” he teased her as she came to his side. “I was beginning to think I’d have to go look for you.”

“In the tiger huts?” she gaped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I might have,” he shrugged. “But since you’re here, I suppose we’ll never know.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” she had to agree. Her voice sounded strange in her ears, but she dismissed the notion resolutely. Stop thundering, heart, he’s not the male for you!

“Well, shall we go, then?” he asked, holding out his hand for her to take.

Sylvie took it, and began to follow wherever it was he was leading her. “What is this big favor you want from me, anyway?” she wanted to know.

“Last night, after I brought you home, so to speak, I returned to the deer and prepped the meat and hide,” he explained.

“I would hope for nothing less,” she said with a nod of approval. The two of them stepped into the little campsite they’d made before, and she saw the pelt neatly stretched onto a wooden frame, and a large leather bag with the lingering scent of fresh meat at its side. “But what has that got to do with me?”

“I want you to carry the meat while I bring the hide,” he explained. “I find it unwieldy doing both.”

“Carry it where?” she asked warily.

“Only to my great grandparents’ hut,” he reassured her. “They’ve grown too old to hunt, and they live on their own at the edge of the forest. And don’t worry about being attacked along the way. No one will bother you since you’ll be there with me.”

“The edge of the forest?” Sylvie repeated breathlessly. Surely, without his escort, she would never have been able to go so near. Excitement and curiosity welled up inside her as she couldn’t quite stifle a grin.

“Yes,” he smirked. “Your naughtiness these last two nights knows no bounds. Come along, I’m sure those two will be very glad to receive your gifts. And don’t worry, my grandmother is far too old to be as catty as the young females can be. I’ve heard some of the things they say to the tigers, and I must say I don’t share their sentiments at all.”

Sylvie laughed as they started to walk. “Why are you being so nice to me, Micah? You know our people don’t get along.”

“Because shifters should be more intelligent than their merely animal counterparts,” he insisted. “Because our human side has the capacity for something more. We should know better than to treat each other so poorly. Wouldn’t it be much better if our people could manage to get along?”

“That’s a pretty tall order,” Sylvie observed. “And not one that would be easily accomplished with the lionesses I saw the other day. Their attitudes would have to change drastically before we’d ever manage to have a meaningful exchange.”

Micah sighed. “Yes, I don’t doubt it,” he agreed. “Sometimes I wish I could start a new pride with only like-minded lions who would treat tigers with respect—just as they would treat us in return. It must be wonderful to live so peacefully together like your people seem to do.”

“Oh, we have our differences here and there,” Sylvie shrugged. “In the wild, of course, tigers are not very social at all. It’s mostly our higher, human side that allows us to get along, as you say. We have the intelligence to know better.”

He gave a grunt of appreciation, and then the two lapsed into a companionable silence as they continued together across the plain. It was much farther to walk this way than it was to walk to the Community Center, Sylvie noted as they continued along. It took them nearly an hour to get where they were going.

“Here we are,” said Micah as he topped a rise. A small, neatly made hut came into view. It had electric lights shining in its windows, and Sylvie glanced over at the generator at its side in surprise.

“They have power,” she said, cocking her head to one side. “Why?”

“They’re not part of a pride,” he said with a shrug. “They can pretty much do whatever they want.”

“I see,” she said with a nod.

“Micah, is that you?” called a woman’s voice, and then an elderly woman stepped out the door. “Oh, and you’ve brought a female along with you? I wondered if you’d ever get around to doing that.”

“Oh, no, no, it’s not like that!” Sylvie gasped. “I’m just tagging along to bring you this meat. We shared a deer last night, and this is the remainder.”

“Hello, grandmother,” Micah said, kissing her on her withered cheek.

Micah’s great grandfather stepped out as well. “A young tigress? You’re sharing a kill with us? Now why would you be doing that?”

“It’s—it’s a long story, sir,” said Sylvie with a blush. “I mean, I know normally a tigress would never do that, but—well, when Micah told me about you two out here on your own, it sounded like a really nice thing to do.”

“Very commendable of you,” he replied. “I wish more young people today would try to be so kind.”

“Sylvie, this is my great grandfather, Jeremiah, and his wife Naomi,” said Micah then. “They have been on this preserve so long, they can even remember when the tigers first arrived.”

“You all have Biblical names,” she observed.

“Well, yes, ours were given to us by the humans, of course, back when they discovered our ability to shift,” Naomi explained. “But I decided to name all my children in the same way, and as you can see, the tradition carried on.”

“Did you have another name, then?” Sylvie asked curiously. “I mean, besides the one you were given by the humans?”

“Only my pride name,” she smirked. “That, I only share with people very close to me, you must understand.”