Chapter 61: Tiger at the Gates

30 Minutes Earlier

The King’s Nest was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic breathing of the woman beside him.

Syris lay on his back, staring at the dark stone ceiling, his body rigid. He hadn’t slept. How could he?

Beside him, Ren shifted. She let out a small, pained whimper in her sleep, her foot twitching as it brushed against the furs. The healing skin was sensitive. She rolled over and her face came to rest inches from his shoulder.

Syris turned his head slowly.

Her red hair was a chaotic halo around her pale face. Her lips were slightly parted.

She was the strangest creature he had ever encountered.

’Mammals,’ Syris thought with a curl of his lip. ’They are usually hideous and smelly.’

But Ren… Ren smelled like the sweetest flower. And her skin was soft. So very soft.

He remembered the taste of her. The memory of the previous night—the salt of her skin, the sweetness of her release.

Syris clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her sleeping face.

’She is a liar,’ his rational mind argued. ’She stole from you. She planned to leave you.’

He hated that he wanted her. He hated that even now, knowing she was a traitor, his first instinct was to pull her closer and wrap his coils around her until she forgot the outside world existed.

He couldn’t stay here. If he stayed, he would wake her up. And if he woke her up… he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

He slid out of bed with fluid, silent grace, ignoring the cold emptiness that immediately settled in his chest.

He walked to the heavy stone doors and pushed them open silently.

He needed air. He needed to think like a King, not a rutting animal.

As the door swung open, he stopped.

Standing in the corridor, hand raised as if to knock, was Lyssa.

She was dressed in her finest sheer silks, her scales polished to a shine. When she saw him, her face lit up with a smile that was equal parts seductive and smug.

“My King,” Lyssa purred, dipping into a low bow. “You are awake early.”

“And have you seen the mammal?” she asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “I have not seen her since yesterday.”

Syris looked at her. He saw the excitement in her eyes.

Lyssa was already preparing her “mourning” face. She was confident. She was certain Ren was dead.

Syris’ eyes narrowed into vertical slits. The temperature in the hallway dropped ten degrees.

“Razor-Fin Cove,” Syris said softly.

Lyssa froze. Her smile faltered.

“I… I do not know what you mean, My King.”

“Do not lie to me, Lyssa,” Syris hissed, stepping closer. “You sent her to the nesting grounds of the Shredder-Fish. A place forbidden even to the guards.”

Lyssa took a step back, her confidence shattering against the wall of his fury. She hadn’t expected him to know.

“I…” Lyssa stammered, her hands trembling. “She needed ingredients! I only told her where to look! If she was too weak to survive, that is nature’s law!”

“Nature’s law?” Syris snarled. “You tried to destroy my—”

He cut himself off. My mate. He almost said it.

“My property,” he finished coldly. “And for that, you will—”

He never finished the threat.

“KING!”

The shout echoed down the corridor.

Viper burst around the corner. The massive snake guard was moving with uncharacteristic, frantic speed. He skidded to a halt in front of Syris, his chest heaving. His scales were pale, his eyes blown wide with genuine trauma.

“Viper?” Syris frowned.

“The Gate!” Viper gasped, pointing back the way he came. “There is something at the Swamp Gate!”

“What is it?” Lyssa scoffed, trying to regain her composure. “The Crocodiles? A lost Crane?”

“A Tiger!” Viper yelled. “A mad white beast! He… he is tearing them apart! The guards at the outer perimeter… they are gone. He is not fighting, King. He is butchering.”

Syris went still.

’A White Tiger.’

The image of Ren, delirious and sweating in his bed, flashed through his mind. “He’s not dead… Kael is alive…”

“Impossible,” Lyssa snapped, laughing nervously. “A mammal? Deep in the swamp? He would drown before he reached here!”

A cold, hard knot formed in Syris’ stomach.

The Fox had told him the Tiger fell to the crocodiles. The Fox had said the threat was gone.

’He lied to me?’

“Come,” Syris ordered.

He didn’t walk. He moved with the speed of a striking cobra, his robes billowing behind him like black smoke. Viper and a terrified Lyssa scrambled to keep up.

As they rushed through the winding corridors, the palace was silent. The noise from outside was muffled by the thick stone walls—until now.

They reached the Grand Foyer, the massive cavern that led to the main gates.

The heavy wooden doors were shuddering. Something massive was pushing against them from the outside.

CREAAAAAK.

The reinforced timber groaned under immense pressure. The lock bar bent.

With a heavy, grinding thud, the gates were forced open. They swung inward, hitting the stone walls with a force that shook the dust from the ceiling.

Silence fell over the gathered snake guards. They held their spears with trembling hands, backing away.

Through the open gates, a massive shadow emerged from the mist.

He was huge. Easily twice the size of a normal tiger. His white fur was matted with thick, black swamp mud, green slime, and bright red splashes of fresh blood.

It was a beast that had succumbed to feral madness. There was no intelligence in those red eyes, only a bottomless, hungry rage that consumed everything it looked at.

He stepped into the hall.

In his jaws, he held something wet.

He dropped it.

Splat.

It was the severed head of a python guard.

The Tiger looked up. He locked eyes with Syris and bared his teeth in a snarl that dripped with saliva and gore.

Lyssa let out a shriek of pure horror. “It’s a monster! A feral beast!”

Syris stared at the intruder. He felt the power radiating off the beast—the sheer, overwhelming killing intent.

It wasn’t a ghost.

“So,” Syris said, his voice calm, cutting through the terrified silence of the hall. “It wasn’t the sickness in her head.”

He stepped forward, his amethyst eyes glowing with power.

“You really were still alive.”

Syris felt a spike of irritation.

If Ren woke up… if she saw this… she would leave. She would run to this muddy, violent rug and leave Syris alone in the cold.

No.

He wouldn’t allow it.

“You should have stayed dead, cat,” Syris stated.

A dark, purple mist began to swirl around the Snake King. His human skin rippled, scales emerging like armor. His body elongated, growing massive, filling the cavern with his presence.

“I will kill you,” Syris promised, his voice deepening into a monstrous hiss as he shifted into his Titanoboa form. “Before she even opens her eyes.”

The White Tiger threw his head back.

ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

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