Taming The Queen Of Beasts

<strong>GAR</strong>

Gar let a growl putter in his throat when she turned her back on him to pace across the cave.

"I wouldn't allow another male to speak to you that way, do you think I'll allow you to do it?"

She whirled back around. "How do you plan to stop me? Put me in a baby carrier and nurse me through it, Dad?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous? You're the one who's scared to kiss me!"

"I'm not scared to kiss you!" he snarled.

"To touch me then. Or have me. I'm your mate according to you and half of freaking Anima and you just lost your boner because I'm too fudged in the head and you're worried I'll snap!"

"No," he said through his teeth, "I got worried about scaring you because I care about you and I want our first time to be special."

"How special are you feeling right now?"

They stared at each other, and Gar's heart sank. She was right. This wasn't at all how he'd envisioned this night going. Huffing out the tension in his chest, Gar raked his hands through his hair.

"We need to start again," he said gently.

"No! Gar, no! I can't… this is just…" she dropped her face in her hands. "I've ruined everything."

"Rika, stop blaming your—"

"Nevermind, forget I said it. Look, it's late. And we only get tomorrow. So we should just… we should just go to bed and get some rest and we can try again tomorrow. I mean clearly this isn't our night, right? We're tired and… we'll feel better after we sleep."

Arms slumped to her sides, she started past him, towards the bed.

It was instinct, he didn't even think about it, just caught her elbow and tugged at her, stopped her passing him and diving into the furs and giving up on this night.

She sucked in a breath and went still and Gar's heart sank to his toes. But when she raised her head to meet his eye, it wasn't fear in her scent, it was irritation.

They stared at each other for a moment, then Gar blinked and yanked his hand off of her like she burned.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"

"STOP APOLOGIZING!" Rika cried, pleading with him in her frustration.

"I didn't mean to—"

"You touched me, Gar. That's all! I want you to touch me!"

"But not like that. It startled you—"

"Were you going to hurt me?"

"No! Of course not, but—"

"Were you going to force me to go anywhere I didn't want to go?"

He frowned. "No! I just wanted you to wait, it was instinct, I wasn't—"

"That's exactly my point! You didn't scare me, Gar. You didn't hurt me. But you… you… pulled away."

"Because I didn't want to upset you."

"I'm more upset that you don't want to touch me!"

"Are you kidding me, Rika? I fucking burn to touch you!" he snapped.

"Liar. You're acting like you're my brother."

Gar stepped right up into her, glaring, his hair flying wildly around his face because he kept running his hands through it. "The last thing I want to be is your fucking brother," he growled.

"Until I start kissing you, then it's, 'we better stop because we need to be committed first,' or, 'I'm just pulling away so I don't scare you.' You're full of it, Gar. I'm messed up and it's messing you up and maybe we aren't even mates at all. Maybe all of this was just a big mistake and you're better off without me."

He jolted at those words, his entire body fighting them. He knew his eyes had gone wide, but he couldn't seem to make his face behave, because he was suddenly terrified that she believed what she was saying. Terrified. And furious.

"If you say that again, Rika, I swear I'll…"

"You'll what, Gar? Breathe on me? Make a disapproving face?"

She was right, of course. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he would do. With any of the Anima he'd get in their face and dominate them—use the force of his power to shift their mind to a healthier place. It was his job. His responsibility. But he couldn't dominate her. She'd been pushed to her limits, harmed by power. Using power against her would only—

"Poor, Gar," she sneered, choking on tears. "He got the broken one."

Anger flared in his chest—anger that she spoke about herself so critically, and anger that she spoke about him with such derision.

"Stop. Saying. That."

"Why? It's the truth."

"No, it's not!"

"Then what is, Gar? Tell me! If the problem here isn't that I'm too broken, tell me what it is?"

"The truth is that you're so ready to see a problem you don't give yourself space to learn and grow. To adjust. We have to learn each other, Rika. We can't do that if one of us is walking away the second something gets hard!"

It was like hearing his father's voice come out of his own mouth. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Rika's eyes were sad, but she stood with her hands in fists. "I didn't walk away," she seethed.

"You gave up and turned away. It's the same thing."

"No, it's not. Walking away is leaving. I didn't leave!"

"You left me here," he growled, nudging gently, right in the valley of her breasts with two of his fingers. Her breasts jiggled and he was glad he was still wearing his leathers. He didn't think she'd appreciate it if he planted a flag at this point in the conversation. "You got scared and instead of waiting to see what would happen, you threw a fit."

"A fit!"

"Yes, a fit. I've been throwing them my whole life. I know one when I see one. You got scared, and you got self-pitying, and that made you mad."

"What made me mad," she hissed, leaning right into his face, "Was knowing that the first man I've ever fallen in love with doesn't feel safe with me! You! Big, strong, masculine Gar is scared of me! The irony is priceless."

"I'm not scared of you!"

"Then prove it!"