Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

RETH

Something was wrong. He'd used Beast form to get to the City as quickly as possible, but as soon as he'd shifted back and stepped out of the cover of the trees, he'd slid to a halt.

Behryn stood at the intersection of paths, bellowing orders to the dozens of guards who had leaped out of their beds to report. He was sending them out in pairs, spears at the ready, in a web pattern. His face thunderous.

"What is it?" Reth called quietly, hurrying to join him.

"We don't know," Behryn muttered.

Reth froze. "What do you mean, you don't know? Who called the horn?"

"We. Don't. Know," Behryn snapped. "I was already home when—"

But Reth had stopped listening, his heart hammering as he turned back to look the way he'd come, his mind sifting through the events of the night…

Elia's success.

The wolves disgust.

Their own passage through the forest, alone—but Reth attentive to her and guards near enough to hear only if they shouted alarm.

And now… a call to arms that wasn't ordered by the Captain of the Guard?

Between orders to the men, Behryn was still muttering. "If the young got drunk and are playing a game—"

"Elia." Reth breathed and leaped for the path. "Send men, Behryn, it's a distraction!"

"Reth?! What? What's going on!?"

But Reth just snarled, "There's no time! Bring men now!" and shifted into his Beast…

…His she was in trouble. His mate. The wind brought her scent, but mingled with the edge of fear that bared his teeth as he galloped down the path. He had to find her. Had to reach her.

Then the breeze shifted and brought with it the musk of predators, the ones of teeth and fur that made his nose itch. He would have roared, but the other within him screamed for quiet. So he began to hunt, following the winds, silently, silently, silently.

And as he tracked the scents—four that he could pick out, but perhaps more—behind him and beside him the horses ran, near silent even on their hard feet and he would have snarled for how close they were, but the one within snarled louder. Then he took crossed the path and the scents bloomed near—and the one within wrestled back control…

…and Reth crouched behind a tree, scenting the wind, his ears perked and hand up to stop Behryn and the others who still didn't know what they walked into.

He wasn't sure how many Behryn had brought, but he hoped it was enough.

Then he heard her voice.

"…what exactly you think you're going to achieve through this?"

"It isn't for you to understand, Sire," a coughing growl that Reth recognized immediately snarled. "Your husband is a great student of the traditions. He will understand well enough."

"It's as if you want to be banished," she spat.

Lucan chuckled. "No, my Queen—it's as if I understand better than you the promise you made to the people tonight." Reth's heart sank.

"What promise? To be loyal to them?"

"To allow them the old traditions," Reth snarled, stepping out from behind the tree where he'd been crouched, to find Elia standing in that incredible dress, in a pool of sunlight, on the balls of her feet, just like he'd shown her, her arms braced for sparring, facing Lucan.

And in a circle around her, four massive wolves stood in beast form, teeth bared, their shoulders almost as tall as hers.

"Reth?!" she gasped, but didn't take her eyes off of Lucan. Good girl. He hadn't thought about her skirts tonight, how they would hinder her ability to fight. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Lucan smiled and turned his head slowly to watch Reth stalk towards him. "Good evening, Sire," he said through his teeth.

"If you touched her—" Reth snarled.

"I have not so much as ruffled her fur," Lucan growled. "Ask her."

"He hasn't touched me. None of them have," Elia said quickly, without taking her eyes off him.

Reth's heart sank to his toes.

Lucan's smile got broader.

"Reth?" Elia asked carefully when neither of them spoke. "What's going on?"

"An old custom," Lucan said without taking his eyes off of Reth. "The question is whether your husband will be as… patient with the old ways as you vowed to be, Majesty," he sneered.

"State your petition, dog," Reth growled.

"That is how you recognize the ancient ways?" Lucan snarled as he jerked to face Reth hands twitching, and his back rippling when he almost shifted.

Reth stopped walking ten feet away and crossed his arms over his chest to pretend indifference, but his heart hammered in his head, and fear was a razor-sharp spiral in his chest. "I respect the traditions, Lucan. I do not respect you. Now, state your petition—very carefully—or call off your pack."

Lucan's eyes narrowed and Elia looked back and forth between them, worry on every line in her beautiful face. "Reth?"

"Silence, bitch!" Lucan snarled again.

Reth tensed, a growl erupting in his throat that had the wolves ears twitching, but no one moved. "Elia, let Lucan speak. He is following the old ways. And he needs to concentrate, or he might find himself dead by his own sheer stupidity."

Then Reth smiled as Lucan's lips peeled back from his teeth and he shuddered with the effort not to shift.

"I beg an audience with the King," Lucan spat.

"To what purpose?"

"To answer the accusation of treason." He bit off the word.

Reth went very still. "Who claims the offense?"

"The wolves."

"At whose hand?"

"Queen Elia."

"What?" Elia shrieked. "You are fucking insane, Lucan—"

"Be SILENT!" Reth roared and Elia froze, her face a mask of shock, but she rolled her shoulders forward and bowed her head. Reth turned back to the wolf he wished he'd killed months ago and snarled, "State. Your. Petition."

"I call public address to witness the accusation and answer for the Queen's betrayal."

"And the judge?"

"Throne," Lucan said quietly. Reth held his breath until the wolf opened his teeth and snapped, "And tribe."

Reth couldn't help it. He smiled.

*****

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