Mated to the Warrior Beast

172 The Conclave

~ HARTH ~

Watching Tarkyn led away under guard felt like it tore her heart from her chest, but to her surprise, Kyelle didn’t follow the males. She stayed next to Harth, talking quietly with a couple of other female wolves, all of them watching the cluster of males march away, taking Harth’s heart and safety with it.

“I think you’ll be glad to hear, we removed the borders, Harth—even before we learned we’d been discovered. Everyone is free to move as they want… well, obviously not against our neighbors. But you understand,” Kyelle said a moment later. Harth felt like the woman was trying to distract her from her anguish at her mate’s treatment. It wouldn’t work, but she appreciated the thought.

Then she thought about what Kyelle had said. No guards? No boundaries for the Chimera? That explained why they hadn’t hit border guards on the eastern side of the encampment. Harth sighed with relief. She wouldn’t be punished for running, and for starting this entire chain of events.

She hadn’t been sure. “That’s… that’s good,” she said uncertainly, her eyes still following the males now weaving between the tents. They’d be out of sight among the trees soon. She took a step forward, but Kyelle caught her arm again.

“You can’t help that way,” she whispered. “Zev is… uneasy. Trying to intervene is only going to make him more suspicious.”

Harth knew she was right, but it still stung, having to stand there watching them take her mate away, especially knowing that Zev might punish Tarkyn for Elreth’s crimes.

“But… they might need me… I have the mindlink with him—we used it before. I can show Zev the truth—”

Kyelle blinked. “You have the mindlink… with an Anima?”

.....

Harth nodded quickly. “And so much more. You’ve got no idea, Kyelle. This bond it’s… more somehow.”

Kyelle looked shocked. “You’re Ardent?”

Suddenly another warm presence arrived at her other elbow, and Harth was surprised to find Sasha standing next to her, also watching the now empty space where the males had disappeared. She glanced at Harth with a sad smile, but didn’t speak.

Harth couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m so glad you’re here and safe,” she said to Sasha who nodded, but didn’t respond. Harth frowned—Sasha’s eyes were still deeply shadowed, her skin pale and cheeks beginning to sink in. “Are you—”

“Harth, answer me. Are you and that male ardent?” Kyelle said quickly, tugging at Harth’s other sleeve.

Harth nodded and returned her attention to Sasha’s second. “Yes,” she said with quiet pride. “Even more than Ardent somehow, I think. But yes, we’re—” She cut off, eyes bulging and mouth wide, as pain suddenly jolted through her body and she fell to the ground, curling up like a child, unable to breathe as her body screamed like she’d been cut in two.

The shock stole her wits and she could barely think—not even breathe. But as everything around her clouded, it all became clear.

The pain was hitting through the bond.

They were hurting Tarkyn.

*****

~ ZEV ~

The lion male rolled on the ground, arms curled around his middle, groaning and coughing. But even as he shuddered with the pain, he didn’t plead or spit. He didn’t even growl. His face, screwed tight with pain, was shadowed, the sunlight growing brighter outside and making the sides of the large tent glow.

The tent was supposed to be a gathering place for cooks and servers, but Zev had asked for the space to be cleared and used for council. They were going to need a central space to work from as they prepared to take out that fucking Queen.

It just happened to be a handy spot to interrogate the prisoner, too.

Fucking lions. No wonder they called it a “pride,” Zev huffed humorlessly to himself.

But this fucker wasn’t fighting back. He was taking the hits, which felt to Zev like punching underwater. There was no… release.

“Zev, this isn’t the way to get a clear answer from him.” Lhars said darkly.

“Shut up,” Zev growled at his brother. “I know how these people function. Mercy will get us nowhere.”

“I’m not asking for mercy,” Tarkyn croaked. “I’m here to help.”

Zev plowed his booted foot into the male’s back. “Bullshit,” he growled, leaning over him. “Have you disavowed your Queen? Surrendered your loyalty to your matebond?”

“I don’t need to—”

Zev let out a snarl of rage and wound back, preparing to light into the male again when the tent flap suddenly snapped back, and a female voice, humming with Alpha authority ordered, “STOP!”

Every male in the tent froze, and the lower-ranked wolves submitted as Sasha-don stalked into the space, her eyes blazing.

Their son was still slung across her chest, and her skin was still too pale. But her hair snapped around her face as she strode into the circle, looking at each of the males in turn, then to Zev.

“Don’t touch him again.”

Zev’s lips curled back from his teeth. “You think he’s just going to offer you the information—”

“No, Zev! But I know that every blow you’re throwing is landing on his mate. She’s out there among our people, curled on the ground and trying not to weep with the pain of it—is that the leadership we’re showing now? Is that what our people need to fear? That we’ll use their bonds against them? Is that what you’d do to your own pack?”

Zev hesitated, his stomach sinking. Harth was being harmed? He’d never intended…

He turned to look at the lion, still curled on the ground, panting with the pain, but rolling onto his side and trying to push up with one arm, while holding his probably broken ribs with the other.

Zev hadn’t been kind in his aim.

For a moment, he wavered. Remorse and the smatterings of fear prickling through his veins. Was he really at the point where he wanted to hurt his own? No, of course not. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

But then the image of Elreth swam into his head, her fierce eyes and heartless orders.

What would that bitch do?

Zev had just tensed, gritting his teeth and preparing for another kick to the lion, when Lhars leaped forward.

“Are you fucking insane, Zev?” he growled. He didn’t even sound angry—more shocked. But Zev whipped around to face his brother.

“No I’m not insane—I just know what those creatures are going to do to us if we allow it! And I will not allow it, Lhars! We can’t give an inch with them!”

But his brother only stepped in, eyes blazing, positioning himself between Zev and the prisoner. “You don’t attack them when you hurt him—you attack our own!”

“Our own that are bonded to one of them! How do we know that they don’t forge those bonds by choice—that they haven’t pushed these two together just to control us in this way!”

“No one chooses a soulbond except the Creator,” Skhal growled from behind Lhars.

Zev sneered at him. “Spoken like a male under the thrall of his mate—how do we know, Skhal? Answer me that! How do we actually know?”

Lhars gave him a little push at his shoulder and Zev growled, but his brother didn’t back down. “Whether or not the bond was created by God, or by them, it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a female out there feeling every kick and blow you land. You can’t tell me you’re okay with that?”

“Of course not!” Zev snarled. “But I’m also not okay with those fuckers controlling us. I don’t care if they do it for science, or to protect their own asses—the cage feels the same—and I can tell you that I know THAT!”

Lhars tipped his head, the sympathy in his eyes shadowed by an unspoken warning. “They have not attacked us, Zev. They have left us entirely alone. They haven’t moved on us despite their greater numbers. They haven’t even sent—”

“Because they were too busy torturing me and my mate! Almost killing my son!” Zev roared.

Skhal tensed and stepped up to Lhars’ shoulder. Zev almost growled at him—he was going to protect Lhars, the Second, over Zev, his Alpha?

But Lhars’ eyes narrowed and he shook his head. Through the link he sent an order to the rest of the wolves.

‘Leave us. Except Skhal and Sasha-don. Everyone else leave. Now.’

Rage tore through Zev’s bloodstream. “They aren’t yours to command anymore!”

But Lhars just nodded to the other wolves who were looking back and forth between them, then turned to face him again, wary but stern.

Zev would have ignored him, would have demanded the wolves return, but as he took a step forward and inhaled, preparing to bark the order and stop them all in their tracks, his brother grabbed his arm.

Zev whirled, snarling, to find his brother standing right at his toes.

And even when Zev let the growl putter in his throat, Lhars didn’t move.

The bastard was smiling.