Chapter 134

Nearly a month since we came to the tiger tribe, changing the scenery from what we were used to.

The Tiger Tribe had become familiar in that time, its rhythms as natural to me now as breathing. I knew which path led to the stream where the children splashed on hot afternoons. I knew which market stall held the sweetest fruit, which elder kept honey cakes ready for passing cubs, which homes held friends and which held only acquaintances.

My fingers had grown calloused with work, my mind sharp with purpose. Four garments I had completed now, each one better than the last, each one teaching me something new about the craft I was building from memory and necessity. Reona wore hers with pride that made my chest ache with belonging. Noma and Ranese had received theirs with gratitude that felt like acceptance.

The canopy stood finished in our yard, a testament to my mates’ love and reliability. Beneath its straw roof, I could sit and sew while watching the children play, could feel the breeze without getting burned by the sun ray, makes me remember my past life when I would visit the beaches with my family.

Soryn remained with our clutch, vigilant as ever, but less frantic now. The seven eggs had become part of our rhythm, their presence as natural as the beating of our hearts. He still checked their temperature, still rotated their stones, still whispered to them in the dark hours, but the terror had softened into devotion.

Veylan and Eryx had found a new balance, fragile and tentative, built from shared work and small kindnesses. The shade structure had been their project. Eryx still reached out. Veylan still pulled back. But the space between them had grown smaller, filled with moments like the one at the feast, when memory had slipped past guard and become care.

We were healing. All of us. Slowly, imperfectly, but truly.

The only shadow remained the unanswered question of the traitor. The attack on Eryx’s group had never been solved. The Tiger seal that had paid the Stonehorns had never been traced. Aurin had questioned quietly, Ravin and Leon had watched, Aureon had searched records, and nothing had been found.

I had begun to wonder if we were searching for a ghost, if the enemy had fled when their plan failed, if we were safe now simply because there was nothing left to fear.

Then I met Lizarah.

And for some reason, my guts tells me not to underestimate her.

---

"Krys!"

Reona’s voice carried across the courtyard, bright and welcoming. "Krys, come meet my oldest friend."

I looked up from the tunic I was mending, squinting against the afternoon light. Reona approached with her usual energy, her two youngest cubs running alongside her, but the woman beside her was a stranger to me.

"This is Lizarah," Reona announced, settling beside me with the ease of long friendship. "She just returned from her panther mate’s territory this morning. I have told her so much about you, but you have not had the chance to meet until now."

"I have been away nearly two months," Lizarah explained, her voice smooth and measured. "Visiting my eldest mate’s family. Reona’s letters reached me there, full of stories about the ape beast female who had captured Aureon’s heart. I came back as soon as I could to meet you for myself."

"All good stories, I hope," I said, setting my mending aside.

"Mostly," Reona teased.

Lizarah smiled, and it was perfect, warm, reaching her eyes without touching anything beneath them. "Reona speaks of little else these days. The ape female who sews like magic, who mothered a serpent clutch, who somehow managed to collect Aureon and not strangle him."

I laughed despite myself. "That last part requires daily effort."

"Doesn’t it?" Lizarah’s smile widened. "I remember him as a boy. Loud. Impossible. Charming despite himself."

"You knew him well?"

"Everyone knew Aureon. The chief’s son. The prince who refused every expectation placed upon him." Her gaze flickered toward me, assessing. "Including the females his parents suggested."

Reona shifted slightly, a small movement I would have missed if I hadn’t been watching. "Lizarah and I grew up together," she said, the words slightly rushed. "Sisters in everything but blood. It has been hard, her being away so long."

"Nearly sisters in that too," Lizarah added, her voice softening in a way that seemed genuine. "My mother and Reona’s were close. We shared everything as children. Clothes. Secrets. Dreams. I hated missing so much while I was gone."

Something in the way she spoke of shared dreams made me think of promises broken before they were made. I watched Lizarah’s face, the way her perfect smile faltered slightly, the way her eyes went distant with memory.

"I knew Cyrus," she said suddenly, the name falling between us like a stone. Her voice had changed, becoming harder, edged with old pain. "We were betrothed once. Before he decided Reona was more to his taste. Before he cast me aside as though I were nothing."

Reona reached out, touching her friend’s arm. "Lizarah, you do not need to speak of this."

"It was long ago." Lizarah’s voice remained pleasant, but something had hardened behind her eyes, a wall rising as she remembered the rejection. "Cyrus made his choices. I made mine. We both lived with consequences."

She turned to me fully then, and I felt the weight of her attention, the intelligence working behind those golden eyes. "You understand complicated pasts, Krys. I can see it in you. The way you watch, the way you wait for people to reveal themselves."

"I understand that friendships survive things that would break lesser bonds," I said carefully. "That the past shapes us but does not have to define us."

"Do they survive?" Lizarah’s smile returned, but it did not reach her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder if Reona and I would still be friends if Cyrus had chosen differently. If I had become the chief’s mate instead of her."

Reona laughed, the sound bright and forced. "Lizarah, stop being dramatic. Krys just met you. Do not burden her with ancient history."

"You are right." Lizarah shook herself, the mask slipping back into place. "Forgive me. Being home brings back memories, not all of them pleasant. Let us speak of happier things."

She reached into the basket one of her mates carried, producing a small package wrapped in cloth. "For your household. Dried fruits. Herbs from my own garden. A welcome gift, now that I am finally here to give it."

I accepted it, feeling the weight of more than food and medicine. "Thank you. I am glad you returned safely."

"Reona tells me you are attending Laurelli’s mate selection tonight."

"I was invited."

"Then you will see my daughter choose her future." Something flickered in Lizarah’s eyes, pride and worry intertwined. "She is headstrong. Determined. She does not accept disappointment gracefully."

Reona laughed, the sound bright enough to break tension. "She is exactly like her mother."

"Worse," Lizarah confirmed, and there was real affection in her voice now, unguarded and warm. "She wanted Aureon for years, you know. Since they were children playing in these same courtyards."

I felt Aureon’s presence before I saw him, felt his hand find my shoulder, his body heat against my back. "And I wanted nothing to do with her," he said, his voice cheerful, deliberately light. "Hello, Lizarah. Still plotting my downfall?"

"Still avoiding it," she replied, her smile becoming genuine, reaching past the careful walls. "Your mate and I were discussing the past."

"The boring past," Aureon confirmed. "Full of my bad decisions."

"Full of your stubbornness," Lizarah corrected. "Which has apparently not changed."

They exchanged a look, old and familiar, the history between them complex but not hostile. I relaxed slightly, feeling foolish for my earlier suspicion.

Then Lizarah’s gaze dropped to my stomach, and I felt it again, the cold prickle of something wrong.

"Seven eggs," she said softly. "Reona told me in her letters. Remarkable."

"Painful," I corrected.

"Worthwhile things usually are." Her eyes met mine, held them. "I look forward to meeting them when they hatch. To seeing what you and your serpent create together."

She turned then, responding to something Reona said, and the moment passed. But I sat with it, turning it over in my mind, trying to name what felt like danger in words that sounded like friendship.

---

The mate selection began as the sun touched the horizon, painting the sky in colors that made me think of Aureon’s eyes.

The ceremonial clearing had been transformed. Flowers and feathers and polished stones hung from every tree, catching light and casting prisms across the gathered crowd. A central fire waited unlit. Tables surrounded the space, laden with food for the celebration that would follow.

Laurelli stood at the center, dressed in black and gold that made her look like a young queen. She was beautiful, sharp where her mother was smooth, her youth apparent in the restless energy she could not quite hide.

She moved along the line of presenting males with confidence that bordered on arrogance, speaking briefly to each, dismissing most with barely a glance.

Then she stopped.

Not at a male in the line.

Her eyes found our group, and the hatred in them was immediate, unmistakable, directed with precision that took my breath away.

She walked toward us.

Toward Eryx.

"Your name is Eryx," she said, not asking.

He inclined his head, wary, uncertain. "It is."

"You are the wolf who secured the alliance."

"One of them."

"You have no mate."

"No."

Her smile was a weapon, sharp and deliberate. "Then perhaps you should accept one."

Silence spread from us like ripples in water.

Eryx stared at her.

"I am honored," he said slowly, "but no."

Laurelli’s smile froze. "No?"

"I am not seeking a mate."

"Then what are you seeking?"

Eryx’s gaze moved, almost against his will, to Veylan.

Laurelli saw it.

Everyone saw it.

Her expression changed, calculation replacing desire, wounded pride becoming something harder.

"Your brother does not approve?" she asked, her voice carrying.

Eryx stepped forward, and there was steel in him I had not seen before, protection and anger intertwined. "Do not involve him. My decision is my own."

"Then you simply reject me."

"Yes."

The word fell like a stone.

Laurelli’s face flushed. Around us, people looked away, giving her privacy in her humiliation. But she did not look away. Her eyes moved from Eryx to Veylan, back to Eryx, and I saw her understanding, saw her file away information for future use.

She turned finally, walked to a young Tiger warrior at the line’s end, and chose him with the efficiency of someone closing a door.

Taevor.

He seemed pleased.

She seemed nothing.

The celebration began, drums and food and laughter filling the clearing where tension had been moments before.

I sat beside Aureon, watching Lizarah watch her daughter, trying to name what bothered me about the perfect smile that never reached her eyes.

"She’s not happy for her," I said quietly.

Aureon followed my gaze. "Laurelli?"

"Lizarah. Her daughter just chose a mate. She should be celebrating. Instead she’s calculating."

"Perhaps she wanted a different choice."

"Perhaps." I watched Lizarah move through the crowd, touching arms, sharing laughter, building connections with effortless grace. "Or perhaps she wanted something else entirely."

Veylan sat near Eryx now, closer than before, the space between them filled with unspoken words.

"Not that one," Veylan said suddenly, as Eryx reached for food.

Eryx froze. "What?"

"Sunroot. Your throat swells."

Eryx stared at his brother, and the hope in his eyes was almost painful to witness. "You remembered."

Veylan’s jaw tightened. "I told you, so you don’t die. Not because I care."

"Of course."

"Stop smiling."

"I cannot help my face."

Veylan looked ready to murder him.

I covered my mouth with my hand, hiding my own smile.

Progress. Small and thorny, but real.

Across the fire, Lizarah saw it too.

Her gaze moved from the brothers to me, and for just a moment, something cold and knowing passed between us.

A challenge.

A warning.

I did not look away.

She smiled, raised her cup in a toast I could not hear, and turned back to Reona with the warmth of lifelong friendship.

But I had seen it.

The mask slipping.

The woman behind the smile.

And I knew, with certainty, I could not trust Lizarah...my guts is telling me so.