Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

ELIA

Breath tearing in her throat, pulse pounding in her ears, her feet slapping the dirt trail, Elia was almost at the clearing. She prayed that the guards were there, waiting, that all of this was some kind of mistake. She could see the light of the lanterns beginning to peek between the trees as the path widened, when a shadow appeared on the trail twenty feet ahead of her and she slid to a stop. Almost falling, she turned to run back, but the shadow of another man stepped out of the trees from that direction too, and she turned again—but there was a rustling in the bushes to that side.

Panicked, and backing away, she grabbed another rock from between the roots of a tree, but when she stood, the path towards the clearing was clear again.

But would one of them be waiting to ambush her?

"Who are you? What do you want?" she screamed, putting as much anger as she could into her voice. But she trembled from head to foot. She felt helpless against these people.

Did they think this was a joke? Was it some kind of Anima initiation? Was someone going to leap out of the bushes with a balloon, laughing, and telling her that this is how they accept new members to the club?

A low growl puttered behind her and Elia froze.

This was no joke.

She tightened her grip on the rock, wishing desperately that she saw better in these shadows between the trees.

In a last effort to help herself, she took one more mad dash down the trail towards the clearing, but feet pounded alongside her, and before she could break out of the trees, a man stepped out—already in the clearing, and his arms hung loose at his sides.

Elia slid to a stop, panting, as two more figures—one male, one female—materialized from the sides. No doubt there was another behind her.

She didn't recognize any of them, though they all looked fairly young.

The man in front of her smiled and his eyes glowed, his teeth flashing in the reflected light of one of the lanterns in the clearing.

"Oh, look," he said softly. "It's our Queen."

One of the others huffed.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped. "Why are you following me?"

"Because you are a stain on Anima's skin, Queen Elia, a stone hung around the neck of our people. So we will do what no one else has the strength or courage to do. We'll remove you."

She met the woman's gaze in the dark and snarled, "If you kill me, you'll only bring your King down on your own heads."

The woman shrugged, smiling. "I'll take the risk."

The two men chuckled.

"You might take me," she said, hefting the rock in her hand, "but even if you win, my husband will tear out your throats."

"Too bad you won't be here to see it, then isn't it, Elia?"

As she turned to look at the man who'd spoken, she immediately realized her own mistake because the rush of movement from her other side forced her to whip back around, just in time to see the woman leaping at her, mouth open and teeth bared—just as a mighty snarl echoed through the trees and a massive lion landed on the dirt in front of her.

It was huge—it's shoulder level with her own and its chest almost as broad as she was tall. Its tail whipping back and forth as it crouched, ready to pounce.

Elia froze, terrified.

But it wasn't looking at her.

It's back was to her and it faced the three wolf-people, low snarl guttering in its throat.

*****

RETH

His mate was in danger. His mate was afraid.

He'd torn between the trees to head them off, but reached the spot almost at the same time they did—the people who smelled like kin.

Something, deep in his head, had a memory of that. But he wouldn't be distracted.

His mate was afraid, and trying to escape.

He would remove the danger.

As she turned, looking for a way out, and her heart beat so rapidly, like a little bird, he leaped to land between her and the predators, just as the female charged.

She almost bent herself in half attempting to avoid him, but she was already in flight. She yelped and tried to turn as she landed, but he cuffed her and she tumbled into the dirt at his feet, stunned.

He let the growl roll in his chest so the males would hear it. They'd both crouched when he appeared, but at the sound of his dominance, and seeing him standing before them, proud and ready, they both submitted immediately.

The young—so hasty to hunt, so quick to fail.

The female found her feet and scrabbled backwards, away from him, closer to the males, who both stood with their heads down and shoulders rounded, their eyes at his feet. The female, breathing quickly, looked at them. He snarled and she shook, dropping to her knee, chin almost on her chest.

The proper posture before a King.

With the three hunters subdued, he turned his great body to find his mate, wide-eyed, hands clutched to her chest.

He inhaled deeply, but there was no blood, save that in her veins. She had not been touched. Her racing heart and trembling were fear only, not pain. A small part of him sagged and something inside him pressed him to… change.

He made the call of the mate, the question. But she just stared at him. He stepped forward, shaking his mane and called again.

She stumbled back a step, her heart still pounding.

What was wrong? What frightened her?

He turned to look for another hunter, but the three remained submitted. So he turned back and met her eyes—the eyes that were so strange, yet called to him.

She did not look right. She was not leonine. But she was his.

If he knew nothing else, he knew that.

The question was, did she?