Page 78 of The Last Sanctuary

The wolves howled. They whirled and lunged at phantoms. The palpable, sickly-sweet stench of the tiger’s spray was nearly unbearable. They snarled frantically at tiger musk thick in their nostrils.

The hairs on the back of her neck lifted. He was close. He must be close. They needed to get out of here, right now?—

A thunderous roar split the air. It seemed to come from everywhere at once.

The deafening sound slammed into her. Paralyzing her muscles. Constricting her heart in utter terror.

The tiger erupted out of nowhere, as though out of the earth itself. Thirty yards away. He sprang from the wooded shadows. A blur of yellow eyes, orange fur, and gleaming fangs.

Raven screamed.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Raven froze. Deep primal terror surged through her veins. Her hands were on the rifle. Fingers numb. Her muscles no longer remembered how to move, how to pull the trigger. Her heart refused to beat.

The tiger leaped toward her. Thirty yards away. Twenty. Ten.

One thought seared her panicked mind—she was going to die. She was going to die a hideously painful death. Not a damn thing she could do about it?—

Five yards from her trembling form, the tiger halted. Instead of pouncing, Vlad crouched and stared at her.

Raven stood, stricken. Rooted to the earth, unable to move.

The snarling wolves sounded dim and far away. Everything disappeared but the tiger. Her brain registered only the lethal predator crouched before her.

His massive head was larger than a basketball. His paws were the size of pot lids. Fangs the length of a finger. Claws like meat hooks.

Every inch of him radiated spectacular brute strength. Power. Virility. Cunning.

He was the apex predator. The undisputed king of his domain.

His ears flattened. His tail lashed. Vlad glared at her with his piercing yellow eyes. Eyes hypersensitive to movement, designed to track prey.

If the prey response was triggered, even a fully sated big cat would pounce.

To move now meant certain death, gun or no gun.

Raven remained utterly motionless.

Vlad unhinged his jaws and roared.

A tiger’s full-throated roar was an impressive display she’d rarely experienced, and never this close. It was a savage, ferocious, terrifying noise. An explosion of aggression, dominance.

Loud as a jet engine and directionless, everywhere at once, expanding inside her skull, scrambling her brain, rendering her immobile with fear.

It was a roar that shook the earth, trembled the bones encased in her flesh. It rumbled over and through her like an avalanche.

Think! Her mind screamed.

The wolves snarled and growled, circling Raven and the tiger, darting in and skittering away. Not even the wolves could stop a tiger intent on ripping apart its prey.

Vlad hadn’t killed her yet. She clung to that thought. She had a chance, slim as spider’s silk perhaps, but still a chance. She wouldn’t waste it.

She couldn’t move, but she could speak. Remind Vlad who she was.

Tigers were incredibly smart. They boasted the second-largest brain of all carnivores and had a phenomenal memory. She knew he remembered her.

It took a supreme act of will to open her mouth, to form words on her tongue, and force them out.