Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

LERRIN

Lerrin went very still again—this time every hair on his body standing up as she stared him straight in the eye and his mind was pummeled by images of her with those bright eyes closed and her head thrown back, mouth open in a cry of pleasure—

He blinked and cleared his throat. "Can I ask—"

"Only to be of assistance to you in the early mornings and for… for my benefit," she admitted. "I am loathe to ask you after what was spoken at that meeting, but last night I… I fear I may become less useful if I do not find a safe place to sleep." Her throat bobbed, but her gaze didn't waver. She didn't like to ask, but she was not ashamed of it, either.

She took Lerrin's breath away sometimes with the simplicity of how she met the world. Head on, immovable, and yet without force.

"You will always be safe here, Suhle, you know that… right?"

She nodded tightly. "That is why I asked. I did not wish to simply throw myself in your path. I know your solitude is of great importance to you. I will endeavor not to disturb you even when you do not have need of me."

I always have need of you.

The thought was shocking that he pushed it away. Speaking of not getting enough sleep. He'd been taking far too few hours for rest himself.

"Of course you can," he said hoarsely, then cleared his throat again. "But only on one condition."

"What is that?" she asked warily, her body suddenly tense.

"We will get screens, or something, to give you your own space. And when our normal routine is complete, you will relax. You will not work greater hours because you're here."

Her heart sped up and a small smile rose on her face. "I am always happy to help you, Sire—"

"Enough of this Sire business as well. Suhle you've proven to be perhaps the most crucial person to my sanity since my sister was murdered. I truly don't think I would have made it without you and your attendance. So, let's dispense with this ridiculous formality. I'm Lerrin, and you're Suhle. I am Alpha and you are not, but you are strong in ways I am not. I am grateful for you. If there's anything else I can do to make your day easier or more comfortable, you don't even have to ask. Just tell me what's needed and I'll do it. It would be the least I could do."

Her eyes widened, then she dropped her head, licking her lips as she said breathlessly, "Thank you… Lerrin."

"See, that didn't hurt, did it?" he chuckled.

She shook her head. "I did not… I did not expect your kindness."

He huffed his disapproval of that. "What did you expect?"

She lifted her head and met his gaze. "Ruthlessness," she said quietly.

He tipped his head. "Oh, I am ruthless when it's needed, Suhle, make no mistake," he said, his voice husky. "But I was taught that the best rulers understand when and how ruthlessness should be wielded. Bringing it to bear when compassion is needed is the fastest way to break the back of a people."

She nodded. "I agree," she said. "I just didn't expect you to think that way."

Lerrin frowned. "Clearly I've been too distant from the people if you believed that I was… what? Only thoughtful of my own needs?"

"No, no," she said, one hand up to soothe him. "As I said, your sister spoke very highly of you. But your… you remind me… forgive me, Lerrin, but you remind me more of Reth than I would have expected."

Lerrin jerked like he'd been slapped. "Never speak that name to me again!" he snarled. "And do not ever think to compliment me by a comparison!"

Suhle's eyes went wide. "I'm sorry!" Then she dropped her face and rolled her shoulders forward, bracing as if… as if he would strike her? "Please, Lerrin—Sire—do not misunderstand. I only meant that… the… he always struck me as someone who saw people. Whether I agreed with his choices or not, he seemed to speak with every citizen as if they were a… a whole person. And you are this way too. You do not hold yourself apart as I expected. You do not regard me, or others here as simple tools for your whims. That is all I meant. I… I am sorry if I caused offense."

She wasn't looking at him. Had made herself small, and her heart was pounding. He'd frightened her and he hated that. But… gah. He wanted to spit the horrible taste on his tongue out of his mouth. He found comparison to that Cat the greatest of offences… but that wasn't how she'd meant it.

Lerrin's breath came too quickly. "Perhaps I spoke too quickly," he said darkly.

"No, it was thoughtless of me. I apologize. Your family… I remember them. I give them honor in my heart," she murmured desperately.

Lerrin pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You have no need to be frightened of me, Suhle."

"You're angry," she whispered.

"But that does not mean I will harm you. Or refuse you," he ground out. "I don't know what was told to you, or what you experienced that would have you believe if I am dissatisfied that you should cower. That is not necessary. I respect you. You should face me boldly. In fact, I insist on it. The only way to be truly effective as a leader is to have our weaknesses—or potential weaknesses—pointed out before they become the doorway for my enemy. My Second, Asta, treats challenging me as a form of daily bread," he said dryly.

She nodded and swallowed again. "Humility," she said. "Your sister spoke of yours to me."

He shrugged. "Whatever title you would put on it, I cannot say I will never let you down, or react wrongly. But I can tell you I will never strike you for it, or punish you out of petty spite."

"That is… good to know, Sire."

He sighed. "Suhle, please—"

"Lerrin," she corrected herself. Hearing her soft voice curled around his name made him want to huff.

Instead he forced himself to turn and face the corner of the tent she'd indicated and study it closely, letting both of them move on to… something else.

"Now…" he said after a moment. "Let's see what we can do to make you a space of your own. I always said this tent was far too big for one, anyway."

He breathed easier when Suhle's shoulders relaxed.