But great power always comes with its burdens. For Albino Tigrens, one of the greatest challenges was finding a mate capable of surviving their intensity.
Now, the Royal Advisor finally understood why the tribe had so few women. The Chieftain’s immense strength and big build, combined with an insatiable sex drive, made it dangerous for most women to endure prolonged mating with him.
Many would suffer severe cervical injuries, sometimes fatally, and rendering childbirth difficult for most women. Because of this, conception was rare, and the survival of the Albino bloodline became a once-in-a-century challenge, waiting again for fate to gift the tribe with the next Albino Tigren.
There had never been a recorded case in history of an Albino Tigren successfully producing a second generation. Witnessing the living legend before him, the Royal Advisor was momentarily fascinated, but the intrigue lasted only a heartbeat before he composed himself and began, "We heard that you’re in possession of a biochemical agent... one that’s for sale?"
The Tigren Chieftain lounged back with an air of lazy confidence, reaching for a bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass. He made no effort to rush the conversation.
He knew exactly how desperately the Royal Advisor and his kingdom needed the agent. That desperation was not his burden to carry. If anything, the longer the negotiations stretched, the higher the price would climb.
The Royal Advisor seemed to realize it, too. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the Chieftain, whose expression was the very picture of arrogance and dominance. ’Who said Tigren couldn’t be cunning?’ he thought to himself.
He and Elric glanced around, searching for a place to sit, but the room was in complete disarray. Worse, traces of a sticky white fluid were smeared across several surfaces, making most of the available seating uninviting, if not outright unusable. Not that it mattered. The Chieftain had yet to give them permission to sit, and out of respect, or perhaps caution, the Royal Advisor remained standing, albeit reluctantly.
Ten more minutes passed in heavy silence before the Chieftain finally spoke, his tone as unhurried as his movements. "I’ve already stated my terms, haven’t I? When your people sent that transmission, I made it clear. I want supplies. And animals from the western regions of your territory. My people need more meat to survive. We can’t afford to lose muscle mass just because we’re short on food."
Noticing that the Royal Advisor showed no intention of responding, the Chieftain paused for a moment, then decided to continue, forcing the conversation forward.
Besides, it wasn’t as if the Werewolf Kingdom was the only one facing difficulties right now. The Royal Advisor could sense something was off about the Tigren Chieftain as well.
From the Chieftain’s mention of survival and food shortages, it was clear that his tribe might be struggling with limited resources. While the Advisor wasn’t well-versed in the nature of these vast grasslands or how much prey the Tigren could realistically hunt here, the implications were enough for him to draw a likely conclusion.
Realizing this, the Royal Advisor began to see a potential advantage. If the Tigren were in just as dire a situation as the Werewolf Kingdom, then perhaps they now had common ground, an opening for negotiation.
"Before we proceed with the negotiations, isn’t it only reasonable for us to inspect the goods first?" the Royal Advisor said. "We need to be sure it works, after all."
What he said was only half the truth.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Alpha's Regret Return Of The Betrayed Luna (Addison)