Mated to the Warrior Beast

226 Close Call

Added after publication so you aren’t charged: Sorry I’m behind on comments! I’m travelling internationally soon and working like crazy on chapters to publish when I’m gone. Forgive me!

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~ TARKYN ~

Tarkyn closed his eyes and prayed, closing his mind off from his mate, though it hurt him to do it, bracing for the pain he didn’t want her to feel, his head spinning, heart flipping. He’d misjudged. He’d done wrong—and his mate would pay for it. His heart sank in grief and self-loathing and as Zev gathered himself and leaped for his throat, Tarkyn pleaded with the Creator to save Harth—to keep her safe and alive and…

There was a horrific growl and the snap of deadly teeth closing with force—so close to his throat the wind of their passing fluttered against his Adam’s apple.

Before he could register what had happened, a massive, heavy wolf hit him square in the chest, and they tumbled to the ground together.

Tarkyn’s reflex was to defend, to take hold and roll, to position himself to overcome—but he was surrendering.

With a grunt when they impacted the ground, Tarkyn buried his fingers in the wolf’s ruff, but forced himself not to move.

.....

Air blasted his face as Zev gave a hot, derisive snort—clearing the air from his nostrils to demonstrate just how little he thought of this.

But then his weight changed. Tarkyn opened his eyes to find his hands clutching Zev’s shoulders, the male braced over him, hands at his throat, but not squeezing.

The younger man’s teeth were bared, his nostrils flaring and eyes alight with rage and confusion and… despair?

Tarkyn just watched him, bracing, still ready for the attack to come because Zev so clearly walked a line so fine, so brittle…

Tarkyn prayed silently and waited, but kept himself still and didn’t restrict Zev when he shoved off of his chest to stand in front of him, hands at his sides and chest heaving.

“I can’t kill you,” he muttered, as if the fact pissed him off.

“That’s debatable,” Tarkyn said dryly. He sat up slowly, watching Zev, letting the male see his hands were open and he wasn’t moving to attack. When Zev just watched him, he got to his feet as well.

They stood just three or four feet apart, and Tarkyn saw and smelled everything that passed through the young wolf’s mind.

He was moved.

If Zev had been among his soldiers, Tarkyn knew exactly what he would have found—because he’d seen it a dozen times before.

A youth full of strength and vigor, with a heart that fought injustice. But had experienced it, and so vented anger to make himself feel powerful.

If they’d had time, Tarkyn would have taken him aside, built a relationship, taught him how to channel that strength and heat into something positive.

It was, Tarkyn suspected, what the male had been trying to do on his own. But with the endless threat and such responsibility in his youth—not to mention a physically fragile mate and newborn son…

Tarkyn sighed. He wished he could touch Zev. Clasp his shoulder or pat his back. Even embrace him. “Son, you did the right thing. I meant what I said. I want to show you. You are not under threat from me. From us. Even from Elreth.”

At that name, Zev trembled. But Tarkyn could see the clouds in his eyes.

Being the aggressor, meeting no resistance had shaken him. He was seeing in himself things he didn’t want to see.

That was something Tarkyn understood too.

“We all have our breaking points,” he said quietly. “I haven’t seen a male with strength who hasn’t reached his at some point. But the trick, I think, is to let yourself release it. To… let yourself see. To trust the Creator’s plan. He will not place more on you than you can bear, Zev.”

“And if I don’t want to bear it?” Zev said through his teeth. “If I’m sick to death of bearing anything?”

Tarkyn nodded. He knew that feeling too. “Then you share an experience with every male—hell, every heart and soul I’ve ever known. That’s why it’s called a limit, Zev. The only question is what you’ll do now. Let it go. Let others in? See where it takes you? Or… fight? Because I can tell you, when you stop fighting an enemy and start fighting friends… nothing works.”

Zev stared at him, his eyes flat and piercing.

Tarkyn swallowed. “Don’t do it, Zev. Don’t let the darkness take you. It will only break you. And your mate—”

“I would never hurt her!” he hissed.

Tarkyn shrugged. “You will if you keep pushing her and your people to a war they don’t want. Zev… they won’t follow you. The signs are all there. If you don’t change something, they’re going to turn on you. I’m certain of it. They’re tired. They want to stop fighting—”

“Do NOT talk to me like you know my people better than I do!”

“I’m not. I’m talking to you, Alpha to Alpha. Open your eyes. Open your nose. Stop blinding yourself. Your people need rest and freedom. They ache for it. And they’re willing to pay some cost to get it. If they think you’re holding them back from it… they’ll fight you. Because fighting you is easier than fighting a war. Better the devil you know.”

Zev blinked and sucked in a breath as if the words had hurt him. But the moment of vulnerability passed quickly. Zev raised his chin and narrowed his eyes, standing with his hands in fists at his sides.

“So, what now? If I’m not killing you, and you’re not killing me… what are we doing?”

Tarkyn shrugged and raised his hands towards Zev. “I mean, I’d love to go back and be a part of negotiating peace. But you tell me. I’m putting myself in your hands, Zev. I’ll follow.”

Zev’s eyes narrowed. “I never asked you to follow me.”

“Oh, I’m not going dark, don’t worry,” Tarkyn said, letting the male see the edge in his smile. “But I’m willing to be the bridge. I saw what you endured when we used Harth to link… I feel for you, Zev. Most of the Anima will. When they learn what you all have been through… you’ll find no better brothers in the world than an Anima male whose heart is moved.”

Zev turned his face away, the muscles in his jaw twitching. “Fine. Fine. Let’s go back. Let’s… see what they’re all doing and… I don’t even know.”

Tarkyn smiled. “Good choice.”

“Stop trying to encourage me. You aren’t my… whatever. You aren’t my Alpha.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m just a male who has a heart for you, Zev.” A heart that was, at that moment, flipping and slamming against his chest, deeply aware of just how close they had come to certain death. He prayed Zev wouldn’t notice how his hands trembled.

But Zev’s expression got wary. “Don’t get too pleased with yourself. I still don’t trust you.”

Tarkyn breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s where you’re wrong, Zev. Trust isn’t a feeling. It’s not a bunch of well-intentioned words. Those things mean nothing if you can’t act on them when the pressure is on. No, trust is action. And you just put feet on your faith.”

Zev huffed and turned away, starting to walk back towards the valley, Tarkyn following in his wake, washed in gratitude that he was still there to see the sunlight filter through the trees… and to see Zev shift again and run ahead.

But Tarkyn let him run. He needed to spend a few minutes alone, to soothe his frantic mate who was screaming through the link, pleading with him to tell her why he felt so scared. And to remind her how much he loved her.

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