Page 79 of The Last Sanctuary

“You know me, Vlad.” Her voice sounded shaky and high-pitched. She cleared her throat. “You don’t want to kill me.”

The tiger snarled and bared his fangs. His tail snapped. He remained crouched, with his right paw lifted. His right foreleg was streaked with blood. He was wounded.

Gomez must have gotten off a single shot before the tiger tore his limbs from his body. A wounded tiger was an extremely dangerous creature.

She attempted his favorite whistle to remind him of who she was. It didn’t work.

Vlad slunk closer to Raven. He growled at her, deep and guttural. He was angry, acting aggressive and threatening. It was terrifying.

Though he hadn’t attacked yet, he was upset and getting more agitated by the second. Something she was doing was riling the tiger further.

She’d remained completely still and non-threatening, so then what?—?

The gun.Her father once explained how tigers were intelligent enough to connect gunshots—the thunderous noise, a flash of pain—with the black stick in the hands of a human fifty yards away.

Vlad despised tranq guns from every vet visit he’d ever known. Then Gomez used a gun to shoot him in the leg. Vlad recognized the rifle—and its intended purpose.

As long as she held it, he viewed her as a threat.

Contrary to every primal instinct screaming inside her brain, she needed to disarm herself to stay alive.

This close, the rifle was unlikely to stop the tiger before he slaughtered her, anyway.

“Here goes nothing.” Slowly, very slowly, her hands shaking, she lifted the rifle strap over her head.

Mere feet away, the enormous tiger snarled his displeasure.

Fear thumped in her chest. One wrong move, one inadvertent motion. That was all it would take. Crouching cautiously, Raven lowered the rifle to the ground and set it down in the ferns.

She risked an additional movement. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a strip of venison. She’d kept some jerky, just in case she and the tiger met again.

Raven tossed the treat at his paws.

Vlad roared in her face. Tiger spittle struck her cheeks. The ground shook. Her bones rattled.

Her stomach churned with sour-sick panic. Her plan hadn’t worked. He was angrier now. Any second, he’d pounce. His four-inch claws would sink into her belly and eviscerate her bowels.

“You don’t have to do this, Vlad,” she said. “I know you don’t really want to. Please. We know each other, remember? You know me. Who fed you treats all those years? Me. It was me.”

Vlad tilted his great head, as if listening to the cadence of her voice. His long tail twitched behind him. He lowered his head, sniffed at the jerky, and swallowed the venison whole.

Out of nowhere, Shadow plunged in close. Snarling, he bit Vlad on his flank.

The tiger whirled and swiped at him. Vlad’s razor claws missed the wolf’s muzzle by a hair’s breadth.

Shadow galloped out of harm’s way. Vlad didn’t chase him. He hissed in the wolf’s direction, then crawled a few steps backward, limping as he went.

The tiger swung his massive head back toward Raven. His piercing eyes fixed on her. His posturing was still angry, though slightly less threatening now that she no longer held the gun.

Shadow and Luna snarled as they continuously circled the tiger. Shadow on Vlad’s left, Luna on his right. The wolves darted in, snapping their jaws at the tiger, then springing away.

His ears laid back against his skull. His yellow eyes blazed with irritation.

Vlad spun toward them, slashing with his claws. They danced out of reach.

While the tiger was momentarily distracted, Raven straightened, steeled herself. Forced the panic down. She focused on lifting her foot and taking a slow step backward. Then another, and another.

The tiger whirled toward Luna and swiped at her flank. The wolf yelped and scrambled backward.