Wild Tiger Chase | Book #2 (Complete)

59: she swallows the sun

— Léon - the exact eight seconds before pulling the trigger —

There was so much he couldn't understand.

To name a few, the voice in his head, the shouts in the distance, and the ethereal substance around his neck. But if there was something he could understand, it was the likeness between what happened now and the nightmare he had when he woke up in Old Continent.

Eight seconds.

In that nightmare, just like right now, Léon saw himself in the center of a hurricane that destroyed everything in its path with raging fury.

In that nightmare, just like right now, he didn't know what to do to save himself and his loved ones...

But unlike that nightmare, right now, he'd be damned if he didn't at least try.

Seven seconds.

Léon expanded his powers with a burst, projecting them out to form the mantle at his back. Purple energy took shape around his shoulders and neck, but it soon dissipated. It was painful. The more power he used, the more power Toni's gun swallowed.

Fuck.

Six seconds.

He shouted and tugged at his own arm, trying to control it.

Wait. Rafa used her powers inside her own body, fortifying it—perhaps Léon could try that too! With a grunt, he directed his powers inward and tried to lower his aim. It was useless. He was frozen. Chained. Helpless.

"Fuck. Fuck!" he shouted.

Five seconds.

The books and movies were wrong. Life's not a stairway to climb, and it's not a path to follow.

It's a fucking desert, massive and desolate, with no obvious route or goal besides moving forward. And how could he fucking do that if every time he tried, someone attempted to take or use his powers against his will? How many times had he decided to keep fighting? How many times had he tried to be brave, like Rob and Satina? And how many times someone more powerful had forced him to do something he didn't want to?

People don't just decide to get better; there was more to it. And while he didn't know exactly what... he felt that his wounds and his powers could soon break him for real.

Four.

Pain coursed through his arm, forcing him to raise the gun towards the old mansion. Léon grunted again, trying to stop himself, but his trembling thumb pulled the pistol's hammer.

Maybe he just couldn't get better. Maybe his wounds were too deep to be cured.

Tears filled his eyes.

Three.

"Don't listen to that voice."

He felt, more than saw her presence. Her furred body brushed against his back, and she circled around him, maybe in her own version of a hug. Her claws, once long and sharp, were cracked and filed. Her eyes, once smart and piercing, now looked goopy and tired. And her fur, the same Léon had groomed so many times before, was falling.

And despite all that, Bonee roared like the proud and mighty protector she was.

Two.

Her roar did something to his heart. If Léon was in a spiral before, now he was suspended, present in himself and in this very moment. Bonee's message was clear, sent in a single thought, void of spoken words: