Half-man, half-beast, untameable…except by the one woman born for him.
As a novice interpreter aboard the space ship Orion, Calla Fellura is in uncharted territory. Especially when it comes to figuring out how to approach the ship’s sexy navigator, who seems to have no shortage of willing women vying for his attention.
Tryon Jag is an alpha male tyger, one of the few who possess the instincts to guide a ship safely through the deadly Cattarus system. Handsome, wealthy, and of royal blood, Jag controls his universe—and most of the females in it—as easily as he navigates the Orion.
But when Jag unexpectedly undergoes his mating shift on board ship instead of safely on his home planet, he must have a woman or go mad with rage and lust. With an eco-saboteur somewhere aboard, there couldn’t be a worse time for him to lose his mind.
I do have to offer kudos to Cathryn Cade for kicking off a story in a way I have never seen done before.
It goes like this...
The captain of this particular shape ship has called together the head of his crew to enlighten them on a specific situation. They have flown into the orbit of their navigator Tryon's home planet in a time when the pull of their moon is exceptionally strong, and has resulted in the Tyger's mating shift.
They can't drug him. They can't manipulate his mind. What's left? It has fallen to a female to offer herself to act as his mate. The Tygers are very picky. They won't accept anyone with a history of multiple partners so the prostitutes aboard the ship aren't an option.
Cally, the ship's interpreter, was smitten with the navigator the moment her eyes clapped on his aboard deck. To her, this is her chance. A chance to serve her ship, her crew mates, and to know the male that wouldn't otherwise look at her twice. Even though she is a Tyger as well, she's of a lower class, and his interest in her up to now has been rather obsolete.
Now, the crew is wary about the situation. A male Tyger in his mating pull can be aggressive. So? The computers are set to monitor the situation as the camera's record the two Tygers that have been locked away in an environment supplies especially for them. Little does the caption or any other know that the ship's surveillance has been tapped into and their enemy is filtering the feed to their own screens where two Earth men find themselves now also monitoring the situation.
Tryon is all animal. All master. He spares no time in dominating his new mate and Calla's instincts are just as quick to submit. Despite being called his 'tyger-pussy' even though she tirelessly instructs him to address her by name, Calla finds herself totally complicit in her role as his submissive.
Until they dock and the fool offers her a place as his mistress instead of his wife. Then Calla's walls are up and she walks away and stays away.
“So. Something is wrong, Try. What is it? A female, perhaps?’
Tryon grunted an assent, scowling into his snifter of golden jaguari-honey brandy.
His father nodded. “A prospective bride, or the other sort of woman?”
“The…other sort.” Tryon shifted his big shoulders uneasily. “But she won’t have me.”
“Ah…would this be the young female with whom you mated on shipboard?”
“Yes. And after all that, she refuses to be my mistress!”
His father tsked in sympathy.
“A regular slut, then. Wants to continue to have her pick of Tygers in shift.”
“No!” Tryon growled, scowling at his father. “I was her first shift mate. She’s had only one other male and he was just a boy.”
“Well, then…no spirit, I suppose. Can’t face the lusty side of her nature.”
“Ah…wrong again,” Tryon said huskily. “That’s not an issue.”
He felt the heat rise in his cheeks, remembering the very lusty side of Calla’s nature.
“Well, it’s too bad you are ashamed to bring her into society with you,” his father sighed. “These low-born women can be somewhat crude.”
“Calla is a lady,” Tryon snapped. “She may not be well-born, but she is as far from crude as Mother is. She is…” He shook his head, realizing the impossibility of describing his tyger-lily to someone in words.
After a time, he realized that his father was silent, and he looked up to find the older man regarding him with something like pity.
“What?”
Jostyn Jag sighed.
“Tryon. You are not describing a mistress. You are describing a wife.”
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