White Tiger

Tiger shook his head. “My mate is having our cub. Right now.”

“She is?” Addie slid out from Kendrick’s embrace. “Then what are you doing here? Why did you even come out here? You need to go.”

“She has just begun,” Tiger said. He hesitated, casting his gaze around the darkness. “Tell Zander to come.”

“You think she’ll need a healer?” Addie asked, eyes widening. “She isn’t Shifter, is she?”

“The cub is,” Tiger said. “And I’m not . . . right.”

Addie had no idea what this meant, but Tiger’s distress was palpable. Kendrick put a strong hand on Tiger’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, big guy. We’ll get him there.”

“And you,” Tiger said. “You’re tiger. Please come. And Addie. Carly will like you.”

Kendrick did not want to leave his Shifters, that was obvious. But he seemed to see past Tiger’s stoicism to his deep fears, and gave him a reassuring nod. “We’ll be there.”

“Go,” Addie said, giving Tiger a push. “Sometimes babies come faster than expected, and it’s a ways to Austin. You don’t want to miss it.”

“I do not.” A mix of joy and worry flared in his eyes. Without further word, Tiger turned and headed for his motorcycle, its engine roaring to life, blaring through the noise of the celebrating Shifters.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Tiger’s mate, Carly Randal, had been taken to a clinic not far from the Austin Shiftertown, one of the few medical facilities that treated Shifters.

Kendrick did not want to walk in there in front of all the humans who ran the place, and neither did Zander, he sensed, but they did it. Tiger had a way of compelling people.

Dylan had given them fake Collars to wear. Though Kendrick had worn a fake before, he hated how it felt on his neck. Zander spent the first ten minutes trying to scratch under his.

Zander was still hurting from healing Kendrick, he knew, but the man had climbed to his feet and allowed Kendrick and Addison to tow him to Dylan’s pickup. Kendrick had driven, with Zander stretched out in the bed, complaining about every bump from there to Austin.

Addison was far more excited about attending the birth than Kendrick. She’d gone through it with her sister—twice, she said. Nothing to worry about.

But Addison’s sister was human and had given birth to human children. Carly was bringing in the cub of a Shifter who was an unknown quantity.

Kendrick had been present when his mate, Eileen, had brought in Zane, and he’d had to watch Eileen die of it. She’d had no healer, no help. Only Kendrick to ease her final breaths.

His mouth was dry as he entered the room where Carly lay. As was Shifter custom, the men of her family—which were represented by Dylan’s sons and nephew, formed a circle around the bed, facing outward. By custom, they were there to protect the Shifter woman from being hurt or killed by rival clans. Lachlan’s attack had proved that such dangers weren’t necessarily things of the past.

“Hey, Tiger,” a tired but light voice came from the bed, Carly’s Texas accent warm. “’Bout time you got here. Oh, and look, you brought friends.”

There were other humans here as well. Three young women and an older one, all looking enough like Carly to be her family. They gazed with interest at Zander and Kendrick, undismayed by the presence of more Shifters. Another woman looked in the door, older than the others, but very lovely. She said in an accent that Kendrick thought was French, “You will do beautifully, Carly. Then we will celebrate.”

The whole thing seemed to be a celebration instead of an intense worry. The human doctors had ways to ease some of the pain of the birth—maybe there were a few good things about trying to integrate with humans.