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I tilt my head, watching her closely, taking in every nuance of her expression. "You don't strike me as someone who relies on luck," I say, my voice gentle but firm. I want her to understand that I see her strength, that I'm not just feeding her empty compliments.

Her eyes flicker with something, fear? Maybe recognition? She quickly looks away, and I can feel her retreating into herself. "I just try to stay out of trouble," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

I lean in closer, my eyes never leaving her face. "Trouble has a way of finding people who don’t deserve it," I say, my tone serious now. "Trust me, I know." I can feel the weretiger within me stir, a low rumble of agreement resonating through my chest. "But that doesn’t mean you have to face it alone."

She glances at me, curiosity mingling with caution inher gaze. "What do you mean by that?" Her voice is soft, almost hesitant, like she’s testing the waters.

I shrug, keeping it light. "Let’s just say life has thrown me a few curveballs."

She nods slowly, like she understands more than she's letting on. There’s a vulnerability there that tugs at me. Her eyes, so bright yet shadowed, pull me in. I can sense the weight of her past, a past she's not ready to share. .

"Sometimes, it's not about staying out of trouble," I add, my voice softening. "It's about facing it head-on. You’ve got this air about you," I continue, leaning closer so only she can hear, catching a whiff of her subtle floral perfume. "Like you’ve been through a lot but came out stronger."

Her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a step back, clutching the tray like a shield. "I don't know about that," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. There's a flicker of pain in her eyes, a shadow of something dark and haunting.

I can almost feel the weight of her past pressing down on her, and my protective instincts flare up. The tiger in me growls softly, urging me to reach out, to comfort her. But I hold back, not wanting to scare her off.

I let out a soft chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know." It’s like I can almost see the invisible scars etched into her soul, and every part of me wants to reach out despite my rule against dating humans. But this human, I can tell, she's different.

"Thanks," she says finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

We stand there in a silence thick with unspoken words. Her eyes flicker with a mix of gratitude and something else, something deeper. My weretiger senses pick up on it, a subtle shift in herdemeanor.

I clear my throat. "Look, if you ever need someone to talk to or just someone to make you laugh, I’m around." I lean in slightly, my voice soft yet resolute. "I mean it, Felicity. You don’t have to go through this alone."

Her eyes meet mine again, and this time there’s something different in them with a flicker of trust, maybe? It’s small but unmistakable. My weretiger instincts sense the shift, a subtle but significant change in her guarded demeanor.

"Thanks," she repeats, this time with a bit more conviction. Her voice has gained a touch of strength, a hint of resolve that wasn’t there before.

I nod, pushing off from the bar with a deliberate ease. "Anytime, Felicity. Seriously." My eyes linger on her for a moment longer, hoping she can feel the sincerity behind my words.

As I walk away, I can feel her eyes on my back, a silent plea for a connection that tugs at my instincts. Something deep within tells me this is just the beginning of whatever is brewing between us. There's a magnetic pull, an undeniable spark that promises more.

My senses prick with anticipation, every fiber of my being on high alert for the unfolding of something significant. This isn't just a passing moment. It's the start of something I don't think either of us can ignore. The animal within me is restless and eager, recognizing the connection between us. It's more than just attraction, but something more.

CHAPTER THREE

Felicity

The night hums with laughter and clinking glasses as I weave through the crowd, balancing a tray of cocktails. The low lights cast a cozy glow over the comedy club, making it feel almost safe. Almost. I glance over at Raj, who’s in deep conversation with some regulars, his easy smile lighting up his face. He catches my eye and winks. A tiny flicker of warmth spreads through me.

But then the front door bangs open, and my heart drops into my stomach. It’s him. Nathan. His tall, menacing frame fills the entrance, and the room's lively chatter seems to dull. His cold eyes scan the crowd with predatory precision until they land on me. I freeze, my breath catching, and the tray in my hands wobbles precariously, threatening to spill the cocktails.

“Felicity!” His voice slices through the chatter like a knife, freezing me in place.

My feet feel like they're glued to the spot, refusing to obey my frantic mind. Nathan strides over, pushing past patrons with a force that leaves them stumbling, hispresence a dark wave crashing toward me. Every step he takes sucks the air from my lungs, the room seeming to close in around me. The crowd parts for him, their joyful conversations dying as they sense the menace radiating from him.

"You thought you could hide from me?" His hand clamps around my wrist, squeezing tight. I wince, feeling the familiar sting of his grip, a cruel reminder of why I ran. My heart pounds in my chest, and for a moment, the room blurs around me. Every instinct screams for me to pull away, but his hold is unyielding.

"Nathan, please," I whisper, my voice shaking, barely audible over the pounding in my ears.

Raj's laughter, once a comforting background melody, stops abruptly. In an instant, he's at my side, stepping between Nathan and me with a growl that seems almost inhuman. The air around him ripples with a primal energy, his warm brown eyes now flashing with a predatory intensity.

"Let her go." Raj's voice is low, dangerous, each word laced with a threat that makes my skin prickle.

Nathan sneers, tightening his grip. "This is none of your business."

Raj’s jaw clenches, muscles taut under his skin. "It became my business the moment you touched her," he snarls, his fingers flexing as if resisting the urge to shift. The crowd, sensing the escalating tension, silently backs away, forming a wide circle around us.