Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

AUTHOR NOTE: If you want to share the experience I had writing this scene, try listening to "Ashes of Eden" by Breaking Benjamin while you read it. Oh, and you might want to bring the tissues. #SorryNotSorry

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ELIA

Please… Elia prayed. Please! You didn't say you would save me only to take him!

The cave seemed to darken as she lay there, helpless and sobbing, watching the life seep out of her vibrant, massive mate. Watching him suddenly reduced to a limp, quivering rag, she shook her head, unable to accept it.

He was too big. Too strong. Too… too Reth. He was still young! He couldn't die! Not like this!

It was surreal. Reth lay naked on his back, his arms splayed out slightly from his sides. His huge feet falling to the sides, jiggling as his body was shaken by Aymora, straddling his waist, and shoving at his chest with her entire strength.

Reth's entire body spasmed every time she pumped his chest, but he didn't slap her away. Didn't make a joke about Aymora not being his type—or Elia's modesty. He just… lay there. Unaware.

Dying.

The only time she heard his wonderful heart beat, that booming, resonant thrum, so comforting under her ear every morning and night—and every hug—was when Aymora pushed down so hard his bones threatened to crack.

Elia's breath wanted to stop, wanted to trap in her chest as she shook her head, denying everything that was happening. It was impossible! Reth couldn't die! He was far too… alive.

Reth was not in this limp sack of flesh. Reth was alive. He was alive as he had been every day of her life, even when she hadn't been able to see him.

She closed her eyes against the images of horror in that room, and her mind took her back, proving to her that she was right. Reminding her of the ways he'd been so vibrantly alive in her life, even that very first day…

She was only a child when this huge, aggressively gentle boy had moved into the house next door. She'd been watching from early in the morning when the massive truck arrived.

She'd seen him get out of it and stand in front of the house, examining it as if it was required to please him.

Dark hair long enough to fall into his eyes, and shoulders almost as broad as her father's even though he was only ten, Gareth had been so sure of himself, so full of his own strength, he'd frightened the adults. But she'd never felt afraid. Not from the very first moment when they met in the driveway.

Later that morning, as the moving men hauled furniture and boxes from the truck into the house, Elia had been riding her bike up and down the sidewalk as an excuse to watch the family move in. The boy stood on the covered porch at the front of the house, also watching the men, as if it were his responsibility to make sure they did their job.

But when he caught sight of her, he stared.

Elia was embarrassed and looked away. She would never have approached him—not that first day. But after a moment, as if she too were something he had to examine, he strode off the porch of his house, crossed his own driveway and hopped the low fence into hers.

He moved like her father, she'd noticed. As if, though young, he was already in full control of his body.

She'd stopped her bike, staring at him and frowning. "You're not supposed to do that."

"Do what?" 

"Go onto someone else's property without asking them. It's trespassing."

It was a new word she'd learned the week before and she was excited to use it. But Gareth just shrugged. "I don't care. I won't hurt anything."

And she knew it was true. Because even though he was so big, his eyes were gentle.

"I'm Re-Gareth," he said, his voice catching on his own name, which she'd found strange. "What's your name?"

"I'm Elia."

"Elia," he said, as if he were tasting her name. "Do you want to be my friend?"

She hadn't even had to think about it. She'd just nodded and smiled. And from that day forward, whenever he touched her, he proved himself again, and again. Because, as if he knew she was far more breakable than he, he was always, unerringly gentle.

Her parents had been uncomfortable with their growing relationship—he made them nervous. But while she'd always known his strength was a weapon, she been equally certain it was a weapon that would only ever be deployed in her defense.

Years later, when he was gone, she had felt less safe—a niggling sense that the angel sent to watch over her had been ripped away. A fantastical thought she'd tried to deny as she grew older. But she'd never imagined…

That night she was stolen away to an unknown world and he had appeared, so changed, so huge, she hadn't even recognized him. She'd been so terrified of the women trying to kill her—and the King that watched over it all as if it were only his due.

But after all the killing was done, he'd stood across the clearing from her, his chest glistening in the moonlight, his dark hair falling over his eyes, and she'd been in shock. Unable to think, let alone speak.

The memory consumed her—the image of how she'd seen him that night, an intimidating, but controlled force that she couldn't predict—layered with the solid certainty of the Reth she knew now.

She'd never been in better hands, she just hadn't known it.

In her mind, she watched that first moment he walked towards her, his chin low so the shadow cast by his hard jaw cut across the thick fur collar of his vest.

His hair had fallen over his eyes in the scuffle with the wolves and he peered at her through it, like a lion in the grass. With each step, his graceful, rolling gait reminded her of a predator stalking its prey. Despite the forest floor littered in twigs and leaves, he didn't make a sound.

"Wh-who are you?" she'd stammered, backing away. He met her step for step until she came up hard against the tree behind her—and didn't stop until they were toe-to-toe and he loomed over her, so broad his shoulders and chest made a wall in front of her. She could feel the heat rising off his skin in the cool, night air.

"I am the King." His voice was a dark and husky gravel. "And you are?"

"Elia," she breathed.

"Elia," he growled, leaning in closer, bringing with him the scent of pine and rain and the musk of something distinctly male. His eyes dropped to her throat and he leaned in suddenly, and ever-so-lightly dragged his nose along her collarbone, inhaling deeply. Her skin prickled where he touched her. It was only reflex to put her hands to his chest, to stop him pressing any closer. When she touched him, he went still as a hunted animal. Then he straightened, meeting her eyes warily. His face remained in that flat, expressionless mask. But his eyes glowed with a feral light that delivered a shot of adrenalin to her gut—and a tingling thrill to areas she didn't usually think about.

"Elia," he rasped again.

"Yes?"

"I am Reth." He said the name with a strange, guttural roll that reminded her of a growl. "I am the King of Beasts. I am Clan Leader of the Anima. And I am Alpha of all." Several snarls rose behind him at the last statement, but he ignored them. Then he leaned in until the scruff on his jaw rasped her cheek and said, "And you will be my mate…"

Yes! her heart sang, her tears spilling again and again. Yes, I am your mate, you bold, beautiful man.

"Come back, Reth," she sobbed. "Please… come back. Don't leave me here alone."

Please! She begged the Creator. Don't take him!

And that voice—warmer even than Reth's but also more certain, echoed in her head.

Trust isn't the certainty of the outcome, Elia. It's the willingness to take the risk.

Even with the life of my mate? she cried.

Even with him. And your children.

Elia sobbed and reached for Reth's hand, ignoring the way it bobbed and jumped because of Aymora's increasingly frantic chest compressions. She twined their fingers and rested her forehead against his massive shoulder.

If I trust him to you, she prayed, you might take him.

One day I will have to. Whether you trust him to me or not.

Is that day today?

The day I take him is only the first day of the wait until you are joined in eternity forever. Then you will never wait again.

Elia's face crumpled.

Then Reth's body stopped bobbing and jiggling, and her stomach went cold as Aymora's leg brushed hers as she crawled off of Reth and her sobbing, panting breaths were the only sound in the room.

No. NO.

Elia squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see what was happening in front of her.

"Creator, I submit!" she sobbed. "He's yours. He's yours! But please… please share him with me a-and Elreth. If you don't… if you don't… help me. Help me, please help me! I can't face this life without him!"

It felt like a thick, warm hand brushed the hair away that had fallen over her face, and Elia sobbed again, praying that the Creator wouldn't just comfort her, but would heal this yawning chasm that was opening in her chest.

"So quick to give me to eternity? Proof that I love you more, Elia," a deep, resonant rasp whispered, right next to her ear.