Mated to the Warrior Beast

Quiet smiles and gentle kisses branded his heart-his heart that thrummed as if it fed power to his veins. Every nerve ending on his body seemed heightened, the slightest brush of her hand or warmth of her skin almost overwhelming. In all his years as a soldier, a servant, and a male, Tarkyn had never felt more alive. Never felt more joy.

The thought that their time was short, that the sun would rise in a few short hours, made him jittery and frantic at the idea of letting her go. But he pushed the niggling dread away when Harth smiled again and stroked his chest.

They curled together, both sighing happily, and before long, they’d both dozed off.

Tarkyn woke first, alarm and despair screaming at him-then relief when he saw that it was still dark, though it wouldn’t be for long.

He could feel the weight of night lifting-and with it, their solitude. Looking over his shoulder towards the cave mouth, he frowned. They had an hour, two at most, before the sun’s rays would light up the WildWood. Sarayu would return, and the guards as well.

The guards...

His hackles rose at the thought of males approaching his mate-his beast snarling within him. But Tarkyn had a lifetime of dominating his beast. To stop it coming forth wasn’t the pain that furrowed his brow-but instead, the fire in his blood.

.....

He wanted to pull her into himself, to hide her from the world. He wanted no eyes on her, no touch other than his own. He wished no one else existed-that their solitude would be unbroken for... well, for forever.

Letting go of a shaky breath, Tarkyn gave a little shake of his head.

He understood now, he thought, why his friends had been so skeptical. So... insistent that they watch for the influence of a new mate.

Tarkyn was a male of honor. A male of strength. And suddenly, there in the dim gray light, his nose full of the scent of his mate, his arms full of her soft warmth, nothing else mattered.

Nothing.

Tarkyn blinked as a memory returned to him. A frank conversation with the former King, Elreth’s father...

Years earlier, before Elreth took dominance, the King, Reth, who’d enjoyed the strongest and most popular rule in Anima history until his mate arrived, had taken Tarkyn and his fellow guards aside.

They were young and earnest, heavy with the weight of responsibility of watching over their human Queen. She was so weak and frail compared to the Anima, the King had almost roared with the force of his fear for her-and demand for their strength to keep her safe.

He’d prowled along the line of them, all stood to attention to receive his instruction. He was a massive lion, fierce and proud, even in his human form.

“You all claim allegiance to me, to my rule,” he’d growled, glaring at them as he stalked along their line. “Well, know this: She is the most precious thing in Creation to me. She carries my soul. And where you step for her, you step for me. Where you fail her, you fail me.”

He’d turned then, to face them, his near-black hair falling over his eyes that flashed to his lion. “Where she is wounded under your car, the blow lands on my flesh. Do you understand?”

Tarkyn, still adolescent, though large and capable with it, had nodded and joined the chorus of, “Yes, Sire!”

And in his youthful innocence, he’d thought he understood.

The King loved the Queen, and she was his mate-his True Heart’s Call. Of course he would be fierce in protection of her. Of course his every sense would be tuned to her, and hers to him.

Over the years, watching them together, he’d always prayed to find that same depth of love and understanding in his own mate. And when the King had warned him about the weakness that came with a True Mate, he’d dismissed the caution. The great King Reth might be humbled by love, but that was because he ruled. Tarkyn had spent his life in service. He could give himself wholly, without regret. He was certain of it.

Then later, he’d watched Elreth finally wake up to her own True Mate-hidden by the years of friendship they’d enjoyed first as children, then even into early adulthood. He’d seen the shift between them from precious friends, to given hearts, to True Mates.

And he’d watched them know each other-seen the way they could speak without speaking. And he’d yearned for that for himself.

And again, he’d thought he understood.

He’d imagined the sense of togetherness, the connection, the understanding that came with true intimacy... and he’d wanted it.

Even last night, when Elreth and Aaryn, Gar and Rika-even Behryn-as all his dearest friends and rulers spoke a warning about the mate bond and the battle it could cause within... he’d thought he understood. He hadn’t shied from it.

But now...

He looked at Harth and his chest swelled. Her warm brown hair fell over her face to curl around her jaw, the end of one curl nestled between her breasts... she sighed and stirred, as if she sensed his scrutiny-and to his delight, even still in sleep, her lips curled up towards a smile.

She stole his breath with her beauty, with the ache to hold her, to touch her, to be within her.

Her skin, paler than his, glowed to his eyes-as if she were lit from within by nothing but love. As if the warmth of her skin, the thrum of her heartbeat, was nothing but a call to his.

Nothing else could compete.

His soldiers, his strategy-even his vow to his Queen... it all paled.

And he didn’t care.

He didn’t give a flying fuck.

No wonder the former King had shaken his head when he’d tried to say that he knew. No wonder Elreth had eyed him with such wariness the night before.

He had not been prepared for this... onslaught of love. Not in the slightest.

As Harth stirred again and he slid a hand to her waist, to hold her against him as she began to move, her body coming out of sleep, his skin felt too tight-and yet, the pressure was warm and comforting.

When she sucked in a slow breath and her eyes fluttered open, his heart wanted to pound out of his chest, but his blood gave itself to the flames with ease.

And when she looked up through thick lashes, blinking slowly, to find his eyes already on her, and she smiled brilliantly, Tarkyn shook his head in stunned disbelief.

“Good morning,” he rasped, reluctant to break the warm silence, but needing to say something to her.

“Good morning.”

She beamed at him, and Tarkyn’s breath caught.

His mate was here. She was finally here.

And there was nothing more right in the world.