Mated to the Warrior Beast

Later, he stood in the tent, though watched by half a dozen sets of eyes.

Sasha had been back and forth, at times needing to tend to her son, or answer questions for other Chimera. Lhars had disappeared for some time and returned very preoccupied to pull Sasha aside for a while. Tarkyn had tried to hear their whispered conversation outside the tent, but between Skhal and Kyelle, he wasn’t allowed the quiet that would make their voices discernable.

Not surprising, he supposed.

But Tarkyn’s own tension rose with every passing minute. He could feel Harth out there, still aching with his pain. She was moving now, though not nearby. She’d obviously been ordered away—or kept away. It set Tarkyn’s teeth on edge, wondering. But he knew if he pushed, he would likely just be kept apart from her even longer.

So he patiently waited and consistently answered the questions put to him. He took the food and drink offered, praying that none of it had been laced. And asking for the Creator’s hand in helping him heal quickly so that he could move with confidence when the peace talks came.

He hoped they would come. And he prayed for his mate’s pain to ease.

It was hours before they were all gathered again—Kyelle the owl female, Lhars who was Zev’s brother, Skhal who’d hovered over Sasha like a shadow all day—and who was now Jayah’s mate, apparently. That had been a shock.

And Sasha herself. She looked exhausted, but determined. Tarkyn prayed her resolution worked in the favor of peace.

.....

He was careful to give her very obvious submission whenever she was present. Though he caught Lhars eyeing him with suspicion more than once. At least the wolf’s eyes didn’t hold the malice of Zev’s.

The male was skeptical. Not seeking vengeance. At least, not yet.

Was it possible that Zev’s attendants—just like Elreth’s—would fight for peace? He prayed so.

Then finally, Sasha—her sleeping son still strapped to her chest—turned to Tarkyn while the others watched them.

“Lhars,” Sasha said, watching Tarkyn like she was trying to figure out a puzzle, “I want to talk to our… visitor. I’ll trust you to let me know if at any point you sense any issues with what he’s sharing?”

Tarkyn’s heart beat faster in anticipation. Could the Chimera scent for truth also? Or was she merely using a human’s perception of their senses.

The former Queen, Elia, had explained to him that it was harder to lie to a shifter of any species than it was to a human. Because they picked up far more of what Elia had called “body language.”

Tarkyn waited to see.

“You claim to be here to call for peace,” Sasha said clearly. Tarkyn nodded. “I appreciate that you didn’t goad my mate, or fight back when he came for you. But I can’t imagine that you’re happy to just sit here as a prisoner, either.”

Tarkyn shook his head. That was only pure truth.

“So, what’s your plan?”

“I’m here to ask you and Zev to select a place for us to meet—the Anima and the Chimera—to discuss the opportunities for peace.”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “She fought even her own people to keep us imprisoned, but now she wants peace,” she said flatly.

Tarkyn let her see his dissatisfaction. “She was already softening, already changing her approach—you didn’t get to see it in those last days because she took time away to think and pray and… she’d already decided that morning that she was going to bring you to the table again—as you two spoke earlier. Then, if Zev would agree to stay calm, speak with him there as well. She wanted to create an… agreement. Boundaries. Rules that both sides would abide by. To see if we could live in peace.”

Sasha’s lips tightened. “I know before things went to hell she didn’t want to fight. At least, that’s what she said.”

“I assure you, Elreth is as honest as they come. She lacks the… patience for subterfuge.”

Sasha snorted. “That makes her unique among women.”

Tarkyn smiled indulgently. “She is definitely that.”

“It wasn’t a compliment, Tarkyn.”

“It should have been. The thing with Elreth is, you always know where you stand. I think you could have seen that quite clearly over the past week.”

Sasha nodded slowly, but she didn’t look happy about it.

Tarkyn met each of their eyes in turn, grateful that Zev and the heat of his anger weren’t there to obscure him to the others. “I will help in any way that I can. I’ll offer myself as a messenger, or as a prisoner. Whatever it would take to keep you comfortable that I am working to bring our people together. I’m confident this doesn’t have to be a fight. Our peoples are different, but similar. We could live in harmony.”

Lhars sighed, but Tarkyn shook his head. “This isn’t simple ideology. My mate is Chimera. I deeply yearn for our people to be at peace. If we are blessed with offspring, I don’t wish for them to be forced to… guard against family.”

Everyone in the tent went very still at that. Tarkyn was reminded about Harth’s concerns about any potential children. “She has told me,” he said quietly. “I’m aware of the… risks. But our bond… it runs so deeply. It is so clear. I can’t believe the Creator brought us together only to wreak destruction. There has to be a purpose—and hopefully victory. Whether we can have a family or not… I don’t want there to be separation between the people we love.”

Sasha turned to Lhars then, a question in her eyes.

The wolf still looked stern, but Tarkyn could scent his thoughtfulness. “I don’t think he’s lying,” he said finally. Reluctantly.

“I’m not.”

“I believe you… at least, I believe that’s your intention,” Sasha said quietly, but then she sighed, her hands coming up to hold her son with the thoughtless comfort Tarkyn had seen countless mothers use before with their young.

He had a flash for a moment, an image of Harth holding their child similarly—her body attuned to her offspring, while her mind was elsewhere, and it stole his breath.

Please, he prayed silently. Please let our lives all come to a point of peace. Please. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life fighting. Or being fought.

Please.