Page 85 of Catch a Tiger

Reaching out to touch them, she felt it burn as it cut into her skin. Smoke rose in the frozen air and still she couldn’t stop herself.

A massive hand wrapped around her throat and she looked up with sudden fear into a pair of eyes that were gray, not green. “Finders keepers.” His voice was emotionless—merciless, and his hair was as white as winter.

The scene shifted to somewhere that gleamed with silver. Nothing was alive in this place and it felt barren despite all the columns framing such a bright blue sky.

“Come here, little warrior.”

Vix turned to see that same man striding towards her with his wings tucked against his back. “Gabriel?”

“It’s time, Tauriel.” That hand wrapped around her throat like a collar, and she closed her eyes in welcome submission.

When she opened them again, rose petals and feathers rained down on her like swirling snowflakes – so red they were nearly black.

One landed on her cheek and it was oddly warm.

Brushing it from her skin, she saw it wasn’t a rose petal, but blood. She licked it from her skin and then watched as more blood and feathers rained down on her.

Snow crunched and she was standing before she could even process that her body was moving. Vix stared at the creature wrapped in sparkling darkness and tilted her head.

Red eyes glowed back at her and for whatever reason, she relaxed.

Looking down, she saw five bodies that had her particular brand of death all over them. Glyphs and tongues and ruined wings.

A blade dangled from her fingertips.

She slid her gaze up to the stars in the sky, oddly drawn to it even if she didn’t know why. Someone had given her a name and a single piece of knowledge.

Hybrid—convergence.

“Do you have a pack or pride?” the raven asked, stepping out of the shadows to stand under the moonlight with her.

“I was abandoned here,” she managed, matching the language she heard him speak, but it didn’t feel familiar on her tongue.

“Do you have a name?” The raven had eyes like blood and the sight of it was oddly comforting.

“He took it from me.” Her grip on the blade tightened. “He took everything.”

“Okay,” he murmured, reaching out for her as he stepped over the bodies without a single flicker of unease or disgust in his scent. “That’s okay, little killer. We’ll figure this out, all right?”

He stopped when she pointed her shiny blade at his throat, surprising him with her speed. “Why?”

“I’m a raven shifter,” he told her, tilting his head as his eyes seemed to sparkle at the sight of her blade. “Do you know what that means?”

“Scavenger.” His blood hit the air when he slid the tip of his finger along the edge of her blade like he just couldn’t help himself.

“Yes.” Those red eyes found hers again. “We take in those who’ve been abandoned, little killer. You belong with us—with assassins, don’t you?”

“I don’t have wings.” Her eyes darted down to the ones all around them. “But I could make some.”

“How about we give you a name first?” He brushed her blade aside and stepped closer, absolutely massive as he towered over her. “Such a small thing to manage all this.”

“He gave me a name,” she whispered, eyes closing and blade dropping when his hand tousled the hair at the top of her head. “It means warrior.”

“Fitting, I suppose.” The raven gently took her chin and lifted it so she’d look at him. “Would you like another?”

“Are you claiming me?” It was impossible not to step closer to his cold that reminded her of stars.

“I suppose I am, but you’re barely more than a child.” He moved her head from one side to the other, inspecting her closely. “Would you like a guardian, little vixen?”

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