Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

GAHRYE

As Gahrye exited the temporary home he'd been given, he had to force himself to walk casually. His blood hummed. Everything within him wanted to run, to sprint, to scream and laugh and pour out this nervous energy that kept bubbling to the surface as his heart leaped because he was going to his mate.

He was really going back. No more waiting.

Gripping the strap that crossed his chest, he reminded himself to look casual. He couldn't take a large bag because it would be noticed. But if he was to be gone for only a day or two anyway, there was little he needed. He had grabbed a few of the wares he'd made before his first trip to the human world, the ones he'd kept for something special—then wished he had them there to give them to Kalle. They were small things, he knew, but he prayed she'd see the love in them.

He made himself walk through the City slowly, as if he had no true purpose, to greet those who greeted him, and to stop and speak with anyone who wished.

Reth had been right that his honor had brought with it greater interest from all the Anima, but especially the females. After the third female that stopped him to chat and smile, he found himself praying he didn't run into Elyn. The other females were happy to simply be close to him, wanted to talk only to be seen with him. But Elyn… he sensed that if he were to find himself truly alone with her he may have to have a difficult conversation—or flee.

But it was of no matter. He reached the edge of the Tree City and there was no one else in sight as he took the trail that would lead to the west, to the traverse, and to his mate.

It was finally happening. He was finally going. And wasn't coming a moment too soon. He was desperate to make sure the voices had been lying, that Kalle was safe. And to ask… to find out… was she pregnant?

Would she even know? Elia had said human women often had to wait weeks to be sure. She'd been surprised how quickly Reth and some of the others knew. Gahrye wasn't sure he had the nose for it, but he was determined to find out. After he was in the arms of his mate…

Once he was out of sight of the Tree City, and where he was under the cover of the trees, he pushed into a run. Every moment he spent on this side of the portal was one less moment he'd have with Kalle. And apart from not drawing attention to himself, there was no reason not to make haste.

So it was only a little over an hour later that he reached the point where the trail widened and flattened out, the dirt and dead leaves giving way to scraggly grass and weeds.

The scent of this place, this specific clearing, had never left him. It wasn't just the Portal. This place with its water, its stone, and its memories… it smelled of everything. Of death. Of life. Of love. Of hate.

Everything that could happen had happened here and, as a consequence of being able to read the winds, Gahrye couldn't shake it. His bones knew that this place was significant—and would become more so.

Then he caught a scent he hadn't smelled before and stopped dead, flaring his nostrils to draw the air in, turning to face the wind and closing his eyes.

What were the winds bringing him?

But he couldn't catch it. Except for the strange combination of dread and hope that twisted in his stomach, the winds were hidden from him. As if even they weren't sure what they brought. As if it was not yet determined.

Gahrye opened his eyes and scanned the clearing, but there was nothing else there. No clues. No trails. No scents.

He glanced at the sky. "Let things go smoothly please, just this once. Let me get to my mate."

There was no answering thunder crash—also no answering finger of God.

Shaking off his own nerves, Gahrye turned back to the cave and hurried towards it, careful not too touch anything or leave any more scent than he could avoid.

His eyes caught on the mountain to the north, the direction Elia had led him when they'd returned, and he shivered. That had been a frightening time. He was grateful it was over.

As he slipped into the cave and the leaves and vines fluttered in the breeze of his passing, he kept his steps silent and scented all the way in. But there was nothing in here. No new scents. No trace of warm bodies or visitors since the last time he'd walked through with Suhle. And even their scents were fading quickly, until soon it wouldn't be clear how long it had been since they visited.

Then he reached the cross tunnel, where little light breached the cave's dark, and stepped inside. It was seconds until he stood before the Portal, his heart pounding both with fear and relief. It was still here. It was still shimmering, as if greeting him. And there was no one, and nothing else in here.

He reached for the knife on his belt, then cursed. Of course. He'd changed for travel and his belt knife was still in his bag. Rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, he placed the small bag on the floor of the cave and knelt to dig inside it until he found the blade, still sheathed.

He held it in his right hand as he used the other to roll up his sleeve in short, sharp tugs. He didn't believe it was necessary for the blood to come from his arm, but it was easy to access—and easy to hide the wound later.

As he took the blade point and pressed it into the skin of his inside forearm, he thought of Kalle, of his need to cross the traverse, and of his desire to do so safely, and without ambition. He asked the Creator to keep his heart clean, and his mind clear, and when blood began to well under the blade, he wiped it on a rag he'd brought, then resheathed it and stood, reaching for the portal, which shimmered and began to swirl as he approached.

Sliding the bag over his shoulder, he had just put his hand through and felt the sickening cold on the other side when a deep, rasping voice snarled from behind him.

"Intruder."

The word echoed through the cave and Gahrye braced to launch himself into the traverse, but a thick hand closed on the collar of his shirt and yanked him back.