Mated to the Warrior Beast

Harth got it. Oh, but how she wished she didn’t.

She couldn’t be right, could she?

Harth swallowed hard.

Suhle believed Tarkyn would never be happy among the Chimera because Zev would never trust him to carry the same kind of leadership that he did in the Anima.

And even as a little wail of pain pierced her heart at the thought, it settled deep in her guts… because she knew it was right.

She could see it, suddenly, how Tarkyn would stay here for her—if she asked him to. How he’d mold himself to this new people, this different way of life. And he’d devote himself to Harth, and stifle his own nature and… be less. For her, he would be less.

She met Suhle’s eyes and the woman nodded. “Giving the life I knew for my mate, to be with him, to let him be as he should be… I never regretted it, Harth. I want you to hear that: I never regretted it. Not once—” she cut off as Tarkyn emerged from between tents, surrounded by guards, at the edge of the fire circle.

“Suhle?” he murmured, shocked.

.....

Suhle turned, beaming, and threw herself into a hug with Tarkyn as well.

Harth had to stifle a burst of jealousy when she saw Tarkyn’s smile for the woman—which was ridiculous. But as the two caught up and shared joy at seeing each other safe, Harth’s thoughts were drawn back to what Suhle had said and the choice she might be forced to make if things didn’t progress in the next day or two.

And as she looked at her mate, tall and strong, and he caught her eye over Suhle’s shoulder, she knew there was really no choice to make at all.

*****

~ TARKYN ~

It had been a very pleasant surprise to find Suhle at the breakfast fire when he went to join Harth—and even more so when Lerrin stopped by as well and they were able to embrace. Tarkyn tried hard not to resent the fact that Zev had allowed the pair to walk free—though, like them, he suspected they were being watched.

But he and Lerrin had barely clasped forearms and greeted each other when a murmur rippled through the camp around them. They looked up to find Chimera at other fires all getting to their feet, looking North.

Tarkyn reached for Harth as they both stood, so their hands were clasped when Zev came into view, prowling through the camp. At first Tarkyn’s body tensed—he must be coming for them. But then the wolf stopped and turned, raising his voice and turning slowly, making an announcement to his people.

“I want you all to know that tomorrow we will be heading west to meet the Anima and the Queen for… peace talks…” he growled in a tone so dry it would have dehydrated leaves. Tarkyn’s breath stopped. Then Zev’s eyes lit with a fire that sank his stomach to his toes. “We will entertain this pageant in case my neighboring Alpha carries more integrity than I thought. But we will walk to that table unwilling to yield, and prepared to fight for our lives. I will not let you be caged again! I vow it!”

There was a smattering of gasps and applause, but it was clear most of the Chimera weren’t sure what to make of this. Zev, still turning circles, slowly came to face them and his eyes landed on Tarkyn’s. Even from the distance, Tarkyn could feel the crackling rage in the male.

“Make certain everyone hears. Everyone: The Chimera will never be bound. Never be caged again. I will stake my life on it.”

And then, as a few howls rose and the people sucked in towards him, Zev prowled away again, obviously off to make his announcement to the other fires.

When Harth turned her face up to look at him, her eyes alight with the same nervous fear plaguing him, Tarkyn felt the familiar tension in his limbs—the way his body felt when he was preparing to fight. He wanted to shake it off. Didn’t want to believe this was hopeless, but deep in his gut…

“Suhle,” Lerrin muttered. “We need to get out there… tell them… show them that we’re not here to harm.”

Tarkyn and Harth both waved them away when the pair made apologies, then hurried away. Then Tarkyn looked down at his mate again, and everything else faded away.

She stared up at him, her eyes bright and wide, liquid with both love and fear. His mate. His precious, beautiful mate whom he’d known for a time he could still count in days… and tomorrow they were going to walk into discussions with his people that could save hundreds of lives… or remove them from each other forever.

The thought stole his breath.

Need slammed into him like he’d been taken down by a hunting lion.

“Harth—”

She nodded and started walking. He’d almost forgotten the guards, and he growled when he saw them, all hovering, frowning, clearly preparing to keep an even closer eye on him than they had been.

But Harth only shook her head and tugged at his hand.

He could feel the knot of desire in her as well—she was tamping it down, keeping it wrapped until they were alone. His instincts snarled because they were surrounded by males who would all scent her. But she yanked on his arm and dragged him forward, plowing through the camp towards the trail that would take them out of the tent village and into the trees, towards their cave.

Tarkyn followed her example and kept himself in check, watching the guards. But none of them touched her, or approached inappropriately.

“Leave us, please!” she snapped at them as they rounded the final corner towards the entrance to the cave. “Keep your patrol. Keep your eyes on the cave, but please… give us some space. We need to talk.”

Tarkyn almost laughed—if the situation hadn’t been so tense, he would have.

Talk. There would be little talking.

The fist leader looked at each of them in turn, then pursed his lips. But when they stepped into the dark mouth of the cave, the guards were spreading out, rather than clustering around it.

Seeing that, Tarkyn gave up on stifling anything. He strode past Harth, pulling her with him as he led her as far back into the cave as possible, ignoring the fire at its center that was slowly burning out.

When he was certain the cave was empty and they wouldn’t be disturbed, he pulled her to him and took her mouth, his fingers clawed into her hair as he walked her backwards towards the furs.

Tarkyn cautioned himself—the kiss was deep and brutal—but Harth clung to him, and devoured him right back, her breath sucking in when she stumbled and almost went down.

He gripped her arms to keep her on her feet, straightening enough to meet her eyes, but didn’t let her go.

They stared at each other. “I can’t fathom… if this doesn’t go well… I need you, Harth,” he said hoarsely.

She gulped a breath and nodded. “Me too,” she gasped and threw herself at him.

They struggled against buttons, wrestled with belts, tugged at slick leather and tore away barriers, but Tarkyn was lost. There was no thought in his head beyond her. Beyond the screaming between his temples that he hadn’t taken her the night before. That he’d wasted such precious hours and now…

“Tarkyn, please,” she gasped, taking his hands and sinking to the furs. “Please—”

He followed her down, crawling over her on all fours, devouring her with tongue, teeth, lips. Harth’s breath was already heavy—his own echoed around them. She arched and tried to pull him down to cover her, but he shuddered, then opened his mouth to suck deeply on the claiming mark.

Harth gasped and went rigid, her hands stilling on his shoulders as he tasted that precious skin, now healed, but still red and tender.

He dropped his hips to grind against her, sucking at that skin. Harth whimpered as he did it again, but then pulled away, back up onto his knees, straddling her.

“What—” she breathed.

“Hold on,” he growled, then flipped her over onto her belly.

“Oh,” she said, her voice a lovely, warm shiver as she arched her back—but this time to press her ass up, rubbing herself against him.

“Vixen,” he rasped. She laughed, but then gasped again when he leaned down, sliding his hand up from her hip to her stomach, then her breast, pulling her back into his chest as he covered her from behind. Then he opened his mouth on the claiming mark again, and this time pinched it between his teeth.

Harth shuddered, her entire body trembling. She pressed her breast into his kneading palm, but threw her head back against his shoulder, both of them moving slowly, but firmly, rubbing, breath shaking.

*****

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