White Tiger (Book 1 in the White Tiger Trilogy)

Chapter 34- Mort Blanche

"White Tiger"

2013 Copyright © All Rights Reserved.

Stryder Sweetman.

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Chapter 34

My muscles cramped under the chains, unable to move from my place for what seemed like weeks.

It probably was weeks.

Tristan was telling me about his sister. She was 16 when their parents died, and she abandoned him like the rest. Despite his abandonment issues and hatred for his past pack, it was clear that he still adored his older sister. She was eighteen this year and he had snuck into her birthday celebration.

"She was on the porch with her mate. I recognised him- turns out her soul mate is my best friend... Or I guess ex-best friend. Clive was a pretty cool dude. He had my back until... You know... Anyway, they looked really happy. I was just sitting there in the bushes watching in on a moment that wasn't mine." He sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if they even remember me... I mean, no one came after me, they all seemed really happy... I guess that in the end I wasn't a part of the pack anyway."

The drug had worn off a bit and I was able to give him a sad smile. He seemed shocked by my reaction, jumping to his feet and coming over. "Benina, are you ok?" He asked.

"Fine." I coughed. "Soon... Not fine." I managed to choke out. My mind still wasn't working properly; bad sentences were all I would be able to manage.

"Are you sick?" He seemed worried. I tried to give him my best sarcastic look.

"Peachy." I whispered. "He'll be back... Soon." I warned.

Tristan's eyes widened and he looked at the watch clasped around his wrist. "Oh... Well... I'm sorry I can't stay; he'll be here soon and... I'm really sorry." I nodded, my stiff neck aching as my muscles groaned in protest. "Good luck." He muttered, "May Mort Blanche be with you."

He opened the door, nodding greetings to the guards who had allowed him in. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, hoping that I would regain enough strength to fight back, just a bit.

But he didn't come.

I listened for footsteps, my body on red alert despite the dizziness and fog in my mind. And I didn't hear him coming. I waited, for ten minutes I stayed tense, straining the cramped muscles of my body.

The footsteps never sounded.

I took this as a good sign, maybe he had decided not to? It was unlikely, but still. Maybe he was dead, my rescuers near. Maybe he was busy.

I could only hope he was dead and not coming back. I relaxed my muscles, feeling strength return to me, my mind becoming clearer. The drug was wearing off, and I wasn't being beaten. My body was waking up, as was my mind. I felt a rumbling, as if a sleeping beast was awakening from a deep slumber.

That was when I heard it, the sound of fighting above me. A scream sounded, "Mort Blanche!" My rescuers had arrived. 

Jason

My Uncle's treachery and Nixon's kidnapping had been like rubbing salt in the wound. The pack was in outrage, Ani was locked in her room, refusing to leave, and Willow was trying her hardest to calm everyone down.

I was with my uncle downstairs. He was in a double-locked room, injected with a small amount of his drug. Just enough to remove contact from his Primary Shift.