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He sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “But, it’s hard being on all the time. Everyone expects me to be this happy-go-lucky guy. It’s exhausting.”

I nod, understanding more than he knows. “I can see that,” I say softly. “It must be tough to always wear a mask.”

His eyes meet mine, intense and searching, filled with a vulnerability he rarely shows. “It is. But lately it feels like maybe I don’t have to with you.”

My heart skips a beat, and I feel a warmth spreading through me. “You don’t,” I whisper, the words carrying a promise I hope I can keep.

His words make my heart leap, and the walls I've built around my heart tremble, just a little. “Maybe you don’t,” I whisper, my voice tinged with fear and hope. Could I really let someone in again?

Raj reaches across the table, his strong, warm hand enveloping mine. The touch is grounding, reassuring. “Let’s figure it out together,” he says, his voice low and steady.

My pulse quickens, and for a moment, the world outside the small, dimly lit room fades away. It's just us, two souls seeking solace in each other. His presence, both human and something more, feels like a protective shield around me.

CHAPTER SIX

Raj

I sit across from Felicity at the diner, the hum of late-night conversations and the clatter of dishes surrounding us. Her laugh, soft and genuine, cuts through the noise. It’s like a melody I never knew I needed.

“Do you always use humor as a defense mechanism?” she asks, a playful glint in her hazel eyes that makes my heart skip a beat.

I lean back in the booth, smirking. “Only when I’m trying to impress a pretty server.” I watch her eyes sparkle with amusement, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. The way she looks at me, curious and unguarded for a moment, makes my heart race. My weretiger instincts stir, urging me to protect her, to keep this laughter in her life.

Her cheeks flush, and she looks down at her coffee cup. The vulnerability in her expression tugs at something deep inside me. My weretiger side roars to protect her, to claim her as my own. But I shove it down. She’s human. She doesn’t need to know what lurks beneath my skin.

“Thanks again for, you know, the other night,” she says,her voice barely above a whisper, almost as if she's afraid to give those memories power by speaking of them.

“No problem.” I keep my tone light, trying to ease the tension I see building in her. “That guy was an asshole.” I lean back in my chair, letting my eyes linger on her for a moment. “You deserved better than that.”

She looks up, her hazel eyes meeting mine. “Still, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t handled it.”

I shrug, trying to keep it cool even though my weretiger instincts are practically purring with satisfaction. “You don’t need to worry about him anymore. I’ve got your back.”

Her eyes darken with a flash of fear that sends a protective surge through my veins, my weretiger instincts roaring to the surface. She quickly blinks it away, but I catch the tremor in her voice. “He was more than that. He was a monster.”

I reach across the table without thinking, my hand covering hers. The contact sends a jolt through me, like electricity, making my skin tingle. Her hand is small, fragile in mine, and I can feel her pulse quicken under my touch.

“I’m here now,” I say, my voice low and serious, trying to convey the depth of my promise. I lean in closer, my gaze locking onto hers, hoping she can feel the sincerity radiating from me. My inner weretiger growls softly.

She looks up at me, and for a moment, we’re locked in this silent understanding. My weretiger stirs again, sensing her need for safety, wanting to be the one who gives it to her.

I pull my hand back abruptly, breaking the connection, though the tingling sensation lingers. Forcing a grin, I try to lighten the mood. “So,” I say, leaning back slightly, “tell me something fun about you.”

She narrows her eyes playfully, a spark of amusementdancing in them. “Something fun? Like how I used to have a pet turtle named Speedy?”

I chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in my chest. “Speedy? That’s original.”

She laughs softly, the sound like music to my ears. “He wasn’t very fast,” she admits with a small smile, her shoulders relaxing a bit.

“Well, at least he had a sense of irony,” I tease, feeling the tension in the room ease. “I bet Speedy had some stories to tell.”

“Not really,” she says with a smirk. “Mostly he just ate lettuce and slept.”

I grin, enjoying this lighter side of her. “Sounds like the perfect pet. Low maintenance.”

“Yeah,” she says, her voice softening. “He was good company.”

I nod, feeling my tiger stir again, this time with approval. She’s opening up, even if it’s just a little. And right now, that’s enough.