The fire crackled softly in the clearing, its flickering light dancing over bark and stone. Smoke curled into the night sky, pale gray threads vanishing into the stars. Jai sat cross-legged before the flames, shoulders slumped, one hand buried in warm fur.

  Shereen lay beside him, her body half-curled, her head in his lap like a great, oversized housecat. Her breathing was steady. Rhythmic. Her tail flicked occasionally, thudding lazily against the packed dirt.

  She still purred when he scratched behind her ears.

  Sometimes, he forgot how massive she’d grown.

  Her body spanned nearly ten feet now, every inch corded with lean muscle and silent power. A predator—lethal, elegant, deadly. But to him, she was still the same half-starved cub he’d fed scraps to in the rain. Still the wide-eyed creature that used to chase butterflies and steal his sandals to chew.

  His pet. His friend.

  He leaned against her, letting her warmth seep into his side. “You’ve gotten too big for my bed, you know,” he murmured.

  She huffed softly in response, then stretched one great paw forward, claws hidden, and nuzzled her snout into his chest. He laughed and rubbed the top of her head.

  Everything felt so… calm.

  But deep inside, he felt it.

  The thrum.

  The pressure.

  A weight inside his chest that had grown heavier with each passing day. A steady pulse beneath his ribs, like something waiting. Something rising.

  At first, he thought it was just nerves. Or excitement.

  But lately, it felt more like the air before a storm—taut and breathless. Full of unsaid things.

  He caught Shereen watching him again. Not with curiosity. With focus.

  She rose slowly, graceful despite her size. Her fur shimmered faintly in the firelight, darker than shadow and just as quiet. She stepped away from the fire, then turned to face him, eyes glowing faintly gold.

  A chill slid down his spine.

  "Shereen?" he asked.

  She didn’t blink. Didn’t purr.

  Her eyes… they were still hers, but there was something ancient staring back. Something older than the trees, older than his bloodline. Something wild.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The bond between them snapped tight like a rope pulled taut.

  Then—without warning—she began to circle him.

  Slowly. Silently.

  Each pawstep sent a ripple through the air. The wind stilled. Even the fire seemed to quiet, its crackling replaced by the thunder of his heartbeat.

  He tried to move, but his limbs were heavy. Rooted. His breath came faster. Shereen's presence wrapped around him, not just in body, but in spirit. Like she was pressing into his very soul.

  And still—no fear.

  Just awe.

  And then—

  Pain.

  It hit him like lightning. A burning lance through his chest that stole the breath from his lungs. He doubled over with a choked cry, hands clutching his ribs as the fire spread.

  It wasn’t normal pain. This was deeper. Foundational.

  His skin burned. Muscles twisted and stretched beneath the surface, straining like overdrawn cords. He gasped, fell to one knee, and vomited into the dirt.

  Every nerve in his body screamed.

  And Shereen stepped forward.

  Her body shimmered as if sunlight rippled beneath her skin. Gold light laced through her fur, trailing sparks with each motion. She broke into a run—

  —and leapt.

  Jai looked up just as she pounced, but she didn’t collide.

  She exploded.

  Not into blood or ash—but into pure, living light

  Golden threads of soul energy wrapped around him, entered him, pierced every part of who he was. Her essence seared through his veins, merging with his own.

  He screamed.

  His hands dug into the earth. He clawed at his own arms as the tattoo began to carve itself into his skin—starting from the shoulder down to his forearm. The tiger's shape—mid-leap, eyes furious, claws extended—etched itself in burning fire.

  Each line felt like a blade.

  His spine arched, and he felt his bones shift. Crack. Reform.

  His height stretched inch by inch. Muscle packed onto his limbs in bursts of aching growth. His chest widened. His vision sharpened until he could count the threads of smoke curling from the fire. Every scent was overwhelming—bark sap, his own blood, the dry grass at his knees.

  And still——the pain roared on.

  Until it stopped.

  And silence returned.

  Jai collapsed to the ground, breath ragged. His hands trembled as he pushed himself up. His vision swam with afterimages of golden light.

  His body felt foreign.

  Heavy—but in a good way. Like a weapon sheathed in muscle. His arms were thicker. Fingers longer. His heartbeat steadier. Even the air seemed to resist him less.

  He flexed one hand and felt the power coil under the surface like a waiting storm.

  And then he her.

  Not in the physical world.

  Inside.

  Deep within, curled beneath his heart like a second soul.

  She was resting. Tired—but proud. Fiercely, lovingly proud. He felt it bloom through the bond, warm and unmistakable. It wasn’t just emotion. It was a presence.

  He knew what it meant.

  She was inside him now.

  When he looked down, the tattoo glowed faintly—gold, then dimming back to black ink, coiled around his forearm. Her resting place. Her door to the world.

  Then—just as suddenly—she returned.

  The tattoo lit briefly, and mist poured from his skin, reshaping in front of him until fur, muscle, and breath reformed into the familiar shape of Shereen.

  She blinked once.

  Stepped forward.

  And nuzzled her head gently into his chest.

  His arms wrapped around her before he realized what he was doing.

  They didn’t speak.

  They didn’t need to.

  He could feel everything now.

  Her calm. Her joy. The quiet affection she always hid beneath her toothy smirks and lazy yawns. The utter loyalty that made her soul press against his like a heartbeat.

  And she felt .

  His awe. His gratitude. His pain. The fear he didn’t want to admit. The questions.

  She took it all in without judgment.

  He could feel her breath in his lungs. His heartbeat in her chest. The line between them no longer blurred—it was gone.

  They were one.

  Never alone again.