I felt his thumbs wipe the tears from my cheeks. ‘Shh, Kelsey. I’m here. I’m not leaving you, priya. Mein yaha hoon.’
With great relief and a hiccupping sob, I reached up to wrap my arms around Ren’s neck. He slid his body farther into the little tent to get out of the rain, pulled me onto his lap, and tightened his arms around me. He stroked my hair and whispered, ‘Hush now. Mein aapka raksha karunga. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you, priyatama.’
He continued to soothe me with words from his native language until I felt the dream fade. After a few minutes, I thought I was recov-ered enough to pull away, but I made a conscious choice to stay right where I was. I liked the feel of his arms around me.
The dream made me realize how alone I really felt. Since my parents died, no one had held me like this. Of course, I hugged my foster par-ents and their kids, but no one had managed to break through my defenses – nor had I let anyone pull this depth of emotion from me in a long while.
That was the moment I knew that Ren loved me.
I felt my heart open to him. I already loved and trusted the tiger part of him. That part was easy. But, I recognized that the man needed that love even more. For Ren, it had been centuries – if ever. So, I held him close and didn’t break apart from him until I knew he was out of time.
I whispered in his ear, ‘Thank you for being here. I’m glad you’re a part of my life. Please stay in the tent with me. There’s no reason for you to sleep outside in the rain.’
I kissed his cheek and lay down again, spreading my quilt over me. Ren changed to a tiger and lay down next to me. I snuggled against his back and fell into a dreamless, peaceful sleep despite the storm raging outside.
The next day I awoke, stretched, and crawled out of the tent. The sun had evaporated the rainwater and turned the wet jungle into a steamy sauna. Branches and leaves torn off in the storm littered the camp-ground. A sopping wet moat full of ashy, gray water surrounded charred black lumps of wood was all that remained of our roaring fire.
The waterfall was rushing faster than usual, pushing sodden pieces of flotsam into the now muddy pool.
‘No bath today,’ I greeted Ren, who’d changed into a man.
‘It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re heading out to meet Mr. Kadam. It’s time we resumed our journey,’ he replied.
‘But what about Kishan? There is no way you can convince him to come with us?’
‘Kishan’s made his position clear. He wishes to remain here, and I’m not going to beg him. Once he’s made up his mind, he rarely changes it.’
‘But, Ren—’
‘No buts.’
He approached me and tugged lightly on my braid. Then he smiled and kissed my forehead. What passed between us during the storm had repaired the emotional rift that had put us at odds, and I was happy that he was my friend again.
‘Come on, Kells. Let’s pack up.’
It took only a few minutes to get the tent rolled up and everything stowed in the backpack. I was relieved to get back to Mr. Kadam and civilization, but I didn’t like leaving things with Kishan this way. I didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye.
On the way out, I swept past the flowered bushes to stir the butter-flies into the air again. There were not as many as when we had first arrived. They clung to the sodden bushes and flapped their wings slowly in the sun, drying them out. A few took to the sky one last time, and Ren waited patiently while I watched. I sighed as we began the trek back to the highway where Mr. Kadam was camped. Even though I hated hiking and camping, this place was special.
My tiger led the way as usual, and I traipsed along behind, try-ing to avoid his muddy paw prints and walk on drier ground. To pass the time, I told Ren about how I’d talked to Kishan about palace life and of how he had carried a bag full of food in his mouth so that I wouldn’t starve.
There were some things I did not share with Ren, especially the things Kishan had told me about Yesubai. I definitely didn’t want Ren thinking about her, but also I felt Kishan needed to talk it out with Ren himself. Instead, I calmly babbled away about being bored in the jungle and watching the hunt.
Suddenly, Ren morphed into a man, grabbed my arms, and exploded, ‘You saw what?’
Confused, I repeated, ‘I saw the . . . the hunt. I thought you knew. Didn’t Kishan tell you?’
Grinding his teeth, he said, ‘No, he didn’t!’
I side-stepped around him onto a series of stones. ‘Oh. Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine. I made my way back.’
Ren grabbed my elbow, spun me into his arms, and then set me down in front of him.
‘Kelsey, are you telling me that not only did you watch the hunt, but also that you hiked back to the campground by yourself?’
Ren was beyond angry.
I squeaked out, ‘Yes.’
‘The next time I see Kishan, I will kill him.’ He pointed his finger in my face. ‘You could have been killed or . . . or eaten! I can’t even tell you all the dangerous things that live in the jungle. You are never leaving my sight again!’
He grabbed my hand and pulled me ahead on the trail. I could feel the tension radiating from his body.
‘Ren, I don’t understand. Didn’t you and Kishan talk after your, uh . . . meal?’
He grumbled, ‘No. We went our separate ways. I came straight back to the camp. Kishan lingered over the . . . food, a bit longer. I must not have caught your scent because of the rain.’
‘Kishan might still be looking for me, then. Maybe we should go back.’
‘No. It would serve him right.’ He laughed spitefully. ‘Without a scent to track, it’ll probably take him days to figure out we’re gone.’
‘Ren, you really should go back and tell him we’re leaving. He helped you on the hunt. It’s the least you could do.’
‘Kelsey, we are not going back. He’s a big tiger and he can take care of himself. Besides, I was doing fine without him.’
‘No, you weren’t. I saw the hunt, remember? He helped you take down the antelope. Also, Kishan said that you hadn’t hunted in more than three hundred years. That’s why we went after you. He said he knew you’d need his help.’
Ren scowled but said nothing.
I paused and put my hand on his arm. ‘It’s not a sign of weakness to need help sometimes.’
He grunted, dismissing my comment but tucked my hand under his arm and started walking again.
‘Ren, what exactly happened to you three hundred years ago?’
Scowling, he didn’t speak. I elbowed him and smiled encouragingly. The scowl slowly disappeared from his handsome face and the tension melted from his shoulders. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and explained.
‘It’s a lot easier for a black tiger to hunt than a white tiger. I don’t exactly blend into the jungle. When I got really hungry and frustrated in hunting wild game, I’d occasionally venture into a village and make off with a goat or a sheep. I was careful, but rumors soon spread of a white tiger, and the hunters came out in force. Not only were there farmers who wanted to keep me away, but big-game hunters wanted the thrill of capturing an exotic animal.
‘They set traps for me all over the jungle, and many innocent creatures were killed. Whenever I found one, I’d dis--able it. One day, I happened upon a trap and made a stupid mistake. There were two traps right next to each other, but I focused on the obvious one, which was the standard meat-dangling-over-a-pit-trap.
‘I was studying the pit, trying to figure out a way to get the meat, and I tripped a hidden wire. It triggered a shower of spikes and arrows that rained down on me from the tree above. I leapt to the side as a spear came down, but the dirt underfoot gave way and I fell into the pit.’
‘Did any of the arrows hit you?’ I asked, on the edge of my seat.
‘Yes. Several of them grazed me, but I healed quickly. Fortunately, the pit didn’t have any bamboo stakes, but it was well made and deep enough that I couldn’t get out.’