Chapter 222 - 222 Growth Needed

222 Growth Needed

If you like music while you read, try “Call Me Fighter” by Matt Beilis. It’s a great reflection of Zev and Tarkyn’s attitudes here.

*****

~ TARKYN ~

As soon as he was through the bulk of the Chimera, Tarkyn looked around and discovered that his guards had remained back with Sasha. Everyone was so out of sorts and fascinated by what was occurring, they’d obviously not noticed when he slipped away.

It wouldn’t be long until one of them realized, and they’d be able to follow his scent. So he ducked his head, ran to the trees and skirted wide of the gathering, praying he got enough of a head start to approach Zev alone before the guards caught him.

He’d watched the dark wolf stride through his people, eyes fierce and body tense, been able to track his progress by the ripple of movement he made in the crowd—like a boulder in the river.

But once Zev was free of the gathered Chimera, he disappeared into the forest behind them and it took every ounce of Tarkyn’s skill and strength to stay on his trail.

The wolf was silent, fast, and strong. He knew how to keep himself hidden from eyes—and how to disrupt his surroundings as little as possible so as to leave as little scent as he could. Had it not been his job to subdue the male, Tarkyn would have admired his skill and strategized how to tempt the male into the ranks of the Guard.

But this was Tarkyn’s land, his people, and their future on the line. His mate was back there, still crying in his head, pleading for him to come back, to listen to the negotiations, to add his wisdom to them.

.....

But Tarkyn knew… it was the instinct of decades of strategy and protection… He knew he had a role to play in this, and it wasn’t found back there with Elreth, who had her brother and her advisors. In this moment, oddly, it wasn’t even alongside his mate.

Zev had been publicly confronted with his own malice and foolishness. And he hadn’t submitted—not truly. That meant the male was now on a journey that would take him either to hard won freedom, or to malevolence. And to give him the best chance of landing on the right side of that line, Zev needed a male alongside him that would force him to confront his own darkness. That would understand it. Not judge it. But be strong enough not to give it rein, either.

Tarkyn hadn’t been playing when he’d offered to be the one to face Zev. Though he wasn’t entirely sure he could best the male in pure combat, he knew of all of them, he had the best chance.

The Chimera, he had noticed, were strong and courageous. But they were also young, their society still developing. After having endured so much, when faced with hardship now, they chose grace for each other, encouragement. Something that Tarkyn valued highly in normal situations. But he had been leading soldiers and navigating war since his teens.

Sometimes, when things were dark, a warrior needed to be shown where his path was leading before he got there.

Sometimes encouragement would only embolden a sickened heart.

Sometimes a male needed a good kick to the proverbial balls to see his own stupidity.

Tarkyn didn’t dart after the wolf with any misconceptions about the danger that he was approaching. The confrontation he planned could very likely tip Zev into aggression.

But it needed to happen. The male needed a target. He needed to exert himself. And he needed to choose peace for himself. He needed to escape the shackles of his pain and walk free, able to see his joy again.

If he was going dark, better that he take Tarkyn alone to battle, than an entire people.

And in truth, it did need to be Tarkyn. He didn’t trust the other Anima males not to force retribution on the wolf.

Young warriors like Gar were strong and driven by good hearts. But their pride… sometimes their pride could push them forward when they should hesitate. And sometimes their bravery became foolishness.

He’d considered Lerrin for a while—the male was strong enough, and definitely had a unique perspective that might lower Zev’s defenses. But Lerrin saw the world in black and white. Though he’d trust his own strength in the battle, he’d give no room for Zev to step wrongly first. No grace for the moment until Zev saw himself clearly.

The more he thought about it, the more Tarkyn realized he trusted no one else but Behryn to understand when to push and when to relent—and Behryn had reached his twilight years. Even without his mate’s concerns about his role in the Kingdom and insistence that Behryn remain in a role that put him off the frontline, he was no longer a fighter.

The grief of losing his former King and best friend, Reth, Elreth’s father, had changed the male.

It was sad to Tarkyn to see Behryn hesitate, to lose confidence. But by now, having come up through the ranks of soldiers, he knew that self-doubt came to all of them eventually. At some point the body was no longer as strong as the mind. And then… then they needed peace.

As Tarkyn slipped between the trees, keeping his human form to allow the male to gain ground on him and run off some of his frustration before Tarkyn confronted him, he turned the whole situation over in his mind, examining both the players and the moments that had brought them here.

His ritual. The discovery of his mate. The conflict between Zev and Elreth when the Chimeran Alpha first arrived… the regrettable bondage they’d used against him, and his subsequent unwillingness to trust…

And yet, despite all the ways he could see that they might have taken this road more gently, Tarkyn could see the Creator’s plan playing out.

Gar’s willingness to see the male free. Tarkyn’s willingness to sit in the dark with him. Even the needs of their son and the ways that had softened Sasha’s heart…

Yes, it was all happening for a reason. The only question was, where would they end?

Tarkyn knew that the Creator’s plans were rarely painless or without loss. So where would this road take them?

He didn’t know, but he prayed it was to a final, certain peace.

*****

He sensed, half an hour later, when the wolf became aware of his presence. Zev slowed his pace, and changed direction. He had clearly changed his destination, just as Tarkyn would have done in the same circumstance.

If he’d been pursued in this manner, expecting combat, he would have avoided any space that might bring his pursuer into contact with others for whom he felt responsible.

Tarkyn wasn’t sure if any of the Chimera had stayed back at the encampment—he doubted it. But he knew even if he’d been certain to be alone, if he thought a predator was following, he would lead them as far from the home or presence of his loved ones as possible.

He would choose a space that he felt he knew and could defend his back.

And once he had chosen where he wanted to fight, he would have done his damnedest to take the predator by surprise.

Tarkyn’s instincts prickled, and he shifted, allowing his lion to pad through the forest, ears and eyes on high alert, his hackles up, though they couldn’t be seen beneath the curtain of his mane.

It wasn’t until the trees began to thin and Tarkyn saw bigger patches of sunlight, that he slowed.

Perhaps it was their destination, perhaps not. But he would be on guard. He wrestled back control to his human form, first slowing, then stopping completely when he suddenly realized he could hear nothing—no passage at all from the wolf.

The male was likely waiting for him ahead—drawing his scent to a spot where he’d have the advantage.

Tarkyn hesitated, creeping forward slowly and utterly silent. When he reached almost to the line of trees and could see the clearing ahead, he nodded to himself.

The land rose in the clearing—an overhang of rock and scrub on the opposite side of it, though there was no sign of Zev. But if Tarkyn had been leading, it’s exactly the type of spot he would have chosen to turn and face a perceived enemy.

Clearly Zev had concealed himself somewhere nearby. The question was, did he hide to ambush, or to buy time?

Tarkyn needed to build trust. Give the male a reason to consider his options beyond war.

So he took a deep breath and prayed, then stood straight and raised his voice.

“I don’t want to fight you, Zev. I want to talk. But if fighting is what it takes… I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then you’re a fool.” The words were dark and spat through teeth from behind him and to his right.

Adrenalin flooding his system as Tarkyn whirled, but it was too late.

All he saw was a great, gaping maw of teeth before a dark weight plowed into him, growling and snapping, teeth closing a hairsbreadth from his throat.