Taming The Queen Of Beasts

<strong>GAR</strong>

They were in the bedroom of his Tree House discussing what they could afford to pack beyond clothing. Rika was concerned about keeping pace with the Anima, and Gar reminded her they would be carried by the birds to the edge of the WildWood. But that meant that they needed to be kind in their packing, too, thoughtful of the burden to their brother tribe.

"Brother tribe? You call the birds brothers after what they did?" Rika asked, surprised rather than angry.

The thought made Gar want to grind his teeth. The birds had very nearly stolen the Veneration from the Protectors. Remembering that still made him angry.

But it was the Anima way to accept what you could not change. And while some of the birds might still be a touch cold towards the new tribe, most had embraced them the moment the Veneration was called.

"I have found that individual Anima are usually quite… human," Gar said dryly. "Able to see the value in others and make things work, and to get on with the task. It's when they group together and find safety in numbers… that's when the problems start. So, yes, I will call the birds brothers. Those who are carrying us tonight are saviors. And doing so willingly—not without risk to themselves and their own families. But in any case, we don't have another choice. Even in my beast I can't get you there as quickly as they can. And they're bringing all the leaders so we can strategize and prepare before the others arrive. I just pray we have enough time for those who have to travel by foot to rest before we engage."

"That's where I come in," Rika said, trying to smile, but it wobbled.

Gar's entire system surged with adrenalin and he stopped dead, staring at her.

He had agreed to this plan against his better judgment, and every instinct within him screamed to keep her as far away from the humans as was possible.

Rika walked toward him, shaking her head. "Don't look at me like that. This is war, Gar. You said it yourself. Let me do what I can to be the savior. It's going to take all of us."

"I know, but—"

She reached him and put a finger to lips. When he growled behind it, her smile came back and it didn't falter this time.

He clung to her, hands at her back, holding her close, head spinning, looking for ways to keep her there so she never had to—

The knock on the door downstairs startled them both—but Gar knew. He knew even before the door opened and his father's voice called up the stairs, quickly followed by his scent on the fresh air.

"Gar? Rika? Do you have a minute?"

No. No, no, no, he didn't want a minute. Not this minute. Not if it meant—

"We're upstairs!" Rika called. "Just a second."

Gar froze, holding her there when she tried to walk away, and Rika looked up at him, her face lined with worry.

They didn't speak, but she obviously figured out what was wrong, because she put her hands to his face and whispered, "I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere. You need to talk to them, Gar."

He grunted, but even though his fingers curled into her as she leaned up on her tip toes to kiss him briefly, he let her move this time when she stepped away.

It was too late already, though. Because his mother was at the door, knocking and peering inside.

"Can I talk to Rika for a minute, Gar?" she asked quietly, her eyes rimmed in red, and her voice husky.

Gar almost gave the call for his mother—a sound he hadn't made since he was a cub.

As if she knew, she gave him a soft look, but then she turned to Rika and smiled. "It won't take long," she said to his mate. Then back to him. "Your father's downstairs. He wants to talk to you."

Gar felt like he'd been sent to the gallows. Leaving a wide-eyed Rika alone with his mother, who brushed his arm and whispered her love as he passed, Gar stepped out of the bedroom he'd only had the chance to share with his mate for hours and was now about to leave and who knew? Who knew what was going to happen?

He had to force himself to trot down the stairs as if he were eager for the conversation. But he slowed at the bottom, finding his father standing at the window, staring out into the forest. He turned to look up at Gar and tipped his head for Gar to join him.

Gar slipped up next to him and stared out. The sunlight was almost gone, and the moon was beginning to rise. They only had a few hours.

Gar swallowed hard.

"I wish we had more time," his father said, his voice low and gruff. "I wish you and I had more time. I wish we had more time with Rika. I wish… I wish so much had been different, Gar."

Gar sucked in a breath. Trust his father to leap straight into the most painful part of this conversation without even looking to see if there were rocks below the surface.

"I thought we had more time," his father continued. "That's part of the problem. Every day with you, Gar, I always thought there was more time to fix the problems. I thought it would happen naturally, that we'd find ourselves… I was wrong. And I'm sorry."

"I forgive you," he said bluntly, because he did. And if this was what he thought it was, he wasn't going to live with regrets. His anger at his father wasn't gone, but it had eased. And the more the tide of it sucked out, the more room Gar seemed to have to admire him.

"Thank you," his father said, as if he actually meant it.

"So… you're going with Mom?" Gar asked, his voice stilted.

His dad turned to look at him, surprised. "You thought I wouldn't?"

"No, I just… I guess I wanted to make sure. I don't want her doing this alone."

"She won't," his father growled. "I vowed to her. She will never step into danger except that I'm there to protect her as best I can."

Gar looked down. "But… that means you might… I meant you both… we might lose you both?"

And the last of Gar's hope died as his father nodded slowly, his face tense and pinched.