Taming the Queen of Beasts

GAR

The humans had started bringing cages. But with their devices still down, they were having trouble with the manual locks. Using guards and guns and threats, they'd forced all the Anima—and Rika—to their feet and into a ragged line.

One by one, when human eyes were turned away, Gar had maneuvered his way through the line, given space by his brothers, until he stood behind Rika.

She hadn't turned to look at him, but she was aware of him, he knew. Just as his chest pulled for her, hers pulled for him. He was certain of it.

Then the Anima, desperate for comfort, for strength, closed ranks, pressing together in the line until Rika was huddled into his chest. With their arms bound and trying to avoid attention, he couldn't hold her. But he dropped his chin and rolled his shoulders, cradling her with his body. And though she never looked at him, she leaned her weight into him.

Inhaling her scent, even bloodied as she was, fed a piece of his soul.

He wished he could whisper words of comfort to her, but anything loud enough for her to hear risked being heard by the other humans nearby. He wouldn't draw more attention to her.

But during a moment when the humans wrestled with a particularly stubborn lock, and the guard's heads were turned, though their guns still leveled at the Anima, he let his lips brush her temple.

She shivered.

The lion within him snarled and stretched its claws, and Gar's breath caught, as his beast came alive in his chest again.

Blinking, breathing shallow, he murmured below human hearing.

"How many of you can shift?"

The whispers, below hearing, rippled back and forth up the line.

A dozen, at least. And three of them wolves who could mind link. With more in hiding—Protectors who could speak with them through the pack link.

And all the while, the humans kept their guns trained, but their minds elsewhere. They trusted their tools. They trusted their drugs. And it made them complacent.

They saw bodies submitted in posture and did not recognize the strength of the hearts behind them.

Gar's breathing sped up.

While they all stood, huddled together, looking pathetic, he made a plan, murmuring it to those closest and urging all to share and inform—the wolves to send to any within range, and all those at the edges to whisper out in case any of the free Protectors were hidden close enough to hear.

When the bottom of the sun passed over the peak, they would all shift.

Unless the cages began to work, then they should do so on his roar.

Each identify a human target and take them silently. Give no sound, no warning.

Give those who can't shift time to flee—who should take any weapons they saw along the way.

Get back to the WildWood. Warn Tarkyn. Form a corridor through the opening between the mountains use an ambush, not an assault.

They took down dozens of humans before they were stopped. They could do it again. And every time they did, the human strength waned.

Gar, still pressed against Rika's back, watched the sun rise and kept whispering the instructions.

And around him, Anima heads began to nod, and lips twitch toward quickly stifled smiles.

Then his mate began to whisper, and Gar's chest ached.

*****

RIKA

Having Gar at her back was so comforting, at first she just sighed and leaned into him, wishing there was a way to tell the Anima how grateful she was that they had made this closeness possible. She wished she could tell Gar how sorry she was that she'd failed. How proud she was of his strength and courage.

Then she realized she could and under her breath, so low she could barely hear herself, she began to tell Gar all the ways she loved him.

She knew the other Anima would hear, but this wasn't the time. Those cages weren't just to restrain Anima. They were specimen samples. The Anima loaded onto them wouldn't be taken to the WildWood. They would be returned to the human world. And even if she was taken with them…

She knew she'd never see him again. She'd never seen any of them. The humans would make sure of it.

So, she licked her lips and bared her heart.

All the ways she loved him.

All the regrets she carried for not trusting him—and the bond—sooner.

All the admiration of his strength and courage.

All the dreams—living in his tree, watching him lead, having his babies…

Gar's breath caught when she said that, and tears sprang into her eyes, but she swallowed them back. She couldn't let anything stop her from saying any of this.

"I never surrendered," she breathed. "I'm so sorry, Gar. I never let go. I wish I had. I wish I'd given everything. You did and it's the most beautiful gift anyone's ever given me. I know it's my fault we never found the bond, but… I guess the Creator used it? If they'd detected that on me, I wouldn't be here now. I couldn't have been close enough to tell you any of this. So for that much, I'm grateful."

Gar's chest shuddered behind her. Rika swallowed and plowed on. She desperately wished she could turn and hold his eyes, kiss him and bury her face in his chest. But if her former colleagues hadn't zeroed in on him as her favorite, she wanted to give them no reason to do so.

But then they got one of those cages working, and her heart sank. The first of the Anima in line was dragged forward and began to fight. Her heart broke for the male—a Protector, she thought, because he didn't shift.

None of them were shifting, she realized. They'd been tranquilized. The effects were supposed to last hours.

Her heart flipped over in her chest and she felt Gar tense behind her as the male screamed and was tranquilized again by a shouting soldier.

She wanted to weep, but as things settled down at the cage and the male was bundled into it like a drugged dog, she became so consumed, so frantic to get her feelings out and tell Gar, babbling about how special he was, how he'd lit up her insides, she was startled when Jared appeared on the dirt just feet away, stalking towards her to yank her out of the line.

"You're intelligent beings," he barked at the Anima. They all turned to watch, eyes cold and wary. Rika let her eyes drag over Gar's and the pain she saw in him made her want to weep.  "This is one of ours—one of yours, you think now, right? Well, the choice is yours. We have a job to do, and a war to fight. You can come willingly and be treated like the prime cattle that you are—nourished and groomed and coddled—or you can fight, and be consumed. Because that's what we do."

He'd pulled her off to the side of the circle by her bound arms and stood behind her, both of them facing the Anima.

"Or you can try to be clever, try to betray us. And you'll die." She heard a click and her blood ran cold as the barrel of the gun pressed against her temple again. "Now, which one of you wanted this woman as a mate? Or have we already killed him?"