Carlos Sainz Jr.

The forest was always dangerous after dark. Not by wolves, not by bears. For something worse. For him.

Charles lived on the outskirts of town, in a small wooden house he had inherited from his grandmother. He was only 16 years old, and although many would think he was too young to live alone, he preferred solitude to enduring crowds.

He liked the quiet. The books. The walks. The routine.

What I didn't know... is that someone was watching him. Always. From the trees. From the shadows.

Carlos was no ordinary tiger. He thought. I felt. And elegy.

And for weeks now, she had chosen Charles.

Not as simple prey.

Like something more.

That night, Charles returned from the village with his backpack on his shoulder and his feet covered in mud. It was raining. Hard. The sky was black and moonless. And the forest was quieter than usual.

It was as he crossed the clearing that he felt it.

That chill. That feeling of being watched.

He stopped, swallowed, and turned slowly.

There it was. Among the trees. The tiger. Huge. Majestic. Soaked. With their eyes fixed on him as if he were their next meal.

Charles froze.

Carlos took a step.

And then another.

His eyes were not calm.

They were the eyes of a hungry predator.

That Carlos likes to bother Charles