A Healing Love
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© 2013 Shara Azod
Editor: Stephanie Parent
Cover Art: Marteeka Karland
Books are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.
Contents
December was the most wonderful month of the year. The cold didn’t bother Mica, not when the snow covered the landscape in a blanket of pristine, glistening white. Unlike the stuff that quickly turns gray and muddy in the city, in the Northern Alaskan wilderness, the bright green of the trees and hills and the granite of the mountains peeked through the layers of alabaster to create a true winter wonderland. Sure the days were short, the dark stretching for hours, but sometimes the sky would light up in an electric rainbow of colors, like nature’s own fireworks without the loud booms that rocked the night.
Mica’s parents only came to what they referred to as the cabin twice a year; once during the Christmas break and once during the summer, when the sky never really got dark at all. Mica loved the contrast of seasons; it was so very different from the perpetual summer/spring of Southern California, where they lived. Mica had lots of freedom here too. Daddy was busy studying the sky because he was an astronomer, and Mommy, a wildlife biologist, studied the animals and the effect of climate change on their natural habitat. That just left her and Megan, her nanny, to explore her wonderland. Well, within certain boundaries.
Megan really didn’t like Alaska, and disliked the large stone home the Richards family lovingly called a cabin. According to Megan it was too far from the Eskimo town, in the middle of nowhere, with not another soul anywhere around. And Megan detested the short days.
“It’s unnatural,” Megan often muttered. “Probably why so many of the locals are batshit.”
Mica had no idea what batshit was, but the way Megan frowned, it must’ve been really bad. That tone along with the fierce frown always meant something was bad.
“But Megan, now we’re closer to Santa’s village, aren’t we?” Mica hated to see the people she loved unhappy. She wasn’t really sure she still believed in Santa, but the adults in her life all seemed so adamant about it, she decided she would go along with it. Just in case.
Mentioning Santa’s village must’ve made Megan reconsider because the young woman laughed, swinging Mica up in her arms and twirling her around.
“Well since we’re so close, we better make sure you’re in bed on time every night before Christmas.” Megan suggested with a kind chuckle.
That wasn’t exactly the message Mica was trying to get across, but as long as Megan was happier, well, the eight o’clock deadline would just have to be dealt with. Keeping that in mind, Mica obediently bathed, brushed her teeth and was tucked into her bed no later than eight fifteen that very night. There was a week till Christmas, plenty of time to get it right so Santa would leave her and Megan really good presents. But then, he always did; Mica was convinced this year would be no different. Sometimes the presents were so good they made Megan cry. Mica really didn’t get that, but adults were weird in general. Megan wasn’t as adult as her parents, but she was close enough.
Now, if only she could fall asleep! Through the open door that led to Megan’s room she could hear gentle snores that announced Megan was out like a light. Above her where her parent’s room was, footsteps and muffled voices had long since faded. Lying there, Mica tried making up stories in her head to make herself sleepy, then she tried counting imaginary sheep—nothing worked. For some reason she just felt restless. Like there was something very wrong, something she needed to fix. But that was silly. She was seven years old—what could she possibly fix?
Not knowing what else to do, Mica climbed out of bed and pushed the chair Megan used to read her stories over to the window. Climbing up was easy, but pushing open the window took all the strength her seven-year-old arms could muster. Finally the thing opened, letting in a blast of frigid air with it. But that didn’t bother her. Not when she could hear something far more troubling.
Crying.
Someone was crying just beyond the line of trees bordering the backyard. Mica’s mother was one of the very best wildlife biologists there was; Mica had grown up around animals of all kinds. Although some animals could sound a lot like people that was no animal she was hearing. That was a kid crying, maybe a kid like her. And that was a hurt/scared cry. Mica had sounded like that enough to know the sound when she heard it. Like the time her boogie board had taken off on her and her belly had rubbed against the sand at the beach, hard. Or the time she forgot how to stop her bike and was about to run into a wall.
Running into the other room, she tried to wake Megan, but no amount of shaking worked. Her parents’ room was just upstairs, but the crying was getting worse; and yep, that was definitely pain she was hearing. She just had to do something.
Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Mica put one her snow boots and coat over her pajamas and snuck out the back door, grabbing a flashlight and kitchen knife on the way. There was a lot of snow on the ground, making it hard to make her way to the trees. The closer she got, the louder the crying became. Right around the edge of the yard the forest wasn't so dense. Daddy set a lot of traps so wolves and other predators didn’t get too close to the house.
The crying came from one of those traps. Only it was neither a wolf nor a child crying. It was a tiger. Which was weird because there were no tigers in Alaska. At least, Mica had never heard of tigers in Alaska. Her mother said they were in Eastern Asia and parts of Far Eastern Europe. And this tiger was white, without stripes. Mica had never seen anything like that in the zoo or her books. And it was just a little cub. Okay, not very little, but a cub nonetheless. The poor little thing was obviously hurt, bright red blood staining his poor little paw.
Running, Mica reached the cub and used the knife to pry the trap open. Once she managed to lift the paw gently out of the trap, she packed the wound with snow and attempted to gather the cub in her arms to take it to her mother. Only the little tiger squirmed his way out of her hands, biting her in the process. The bite stung a little, but it wasn’t too painful. What Mica really didn't understand was why everything suddenly was so fuzzy. And she felt hot; so very hot.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bite you. I had to get down to shift. I’m Luka, by the way. I know your name is Mica, right?”
No. No, that couldn’t be right. Right in front of her wide eyes the little tiger became a boy! A big boy—ten, maybe even twelve years old! Mica opened her mouth to ask him where he came from, what happened to the tiger cub, and why was he out in the snow with no clothes on? But only a little squeak came out. Was that her? Why wasn’t the frigid Alaskan night cooling her off? It was just so hot!
“Hey, little girl? Did I scare you? I probably shouldn’t have shifted in front of you, but I had to heal my paw, and to do that I had to shift. Hey, thank you for saving me. I could’ve been in big trouble if my parents found out. Sorry I bit you, I really didn’t mean to.”
The boy was beautiful. His hair was all golden, with the brightest blue-green eyes Mica had ever seen. Wait, no, she had never seen blue-green eyes at all. He was talking, but Mica couldn’t really make out what he was saying. He did have a beautiful accent though. Man, she really didn't feel good at all.
The boy, Luka, sighed. “Come on, I’ll carry you back to your den. That’s where I was going anyway, to watch you sleep through your window.” He frowned as he picked Mica up like she didn't weigh anything at all. He certainly was a strong boy. “That sounded creepy, didn’t it? I didn't mean it like that. You’re just pretty, like a dark fairy or something. I like looking at you, but I don't want to kiss or anything. That would be sick because I am way older than you. You’re just a kid.”
The voice was really nice, even if she couldn’t understand what he was saying. Her ears were ringing like she just got off an airplane or something. So she just snuggled against his chest, which made her feel a lot better. She even stopped burning up. In fact, she felt perfectly fine, even if she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open.
“You didn’t scare me or hurt me really,” Mica managed in a sleepy sigh. “You just surprised me. And you need a coat or something or you’re going to get sick.”
“Tiger shifters don’t get sick,” the boy retorted indignantly.
“That’s because they don’t exist, silly.” Mica liked this boy. She just wished she could’ve taken the cub to see her mother. “I can find you something at the cabin. And I can make warm milk. I just need a nap.”
“Sleep, little one. Just sleep.” The boy sounded concerned, which was funny, but Mica was just too tired to ask him why. Besides, being carried to bed was the best. She was just too tired to walk.
Mica woke late in the morning, much later than usual. But she was all tucked into bed, her boots and coat right where they should have been. Even the window was closed and the chair back in its rightful place. It must have all been a dream; a fantastical story she made up just as she was finally drifting off to sleep.
But the illness was all too real. Mica was never really well again.