The white tiger cub raised its head, watching the man closely, but it did not move. It stayed beside Vaughn, its tail still gently touching him.

Amara stood at the doorway with Rowan beside her. Her hands were tight around her waist, and her eyes were fixed on Vaughn. She didn’t speak. Neither did Rowan. They just watched over their son.

The second tribal man took out a small clay bowl from his pouch and poured some green liquid into it. He handed it to the older man. The old man looked at ...