~ TARKYN ~
"Don't do it, Aaryn," Tarkyn whispered. Moving so slowly so that the wolf could see him and his intentions at all times, he raised his hands, palms up. "He hasn't killed her."
Aaryn, Elreth's mate stood behind his mate, shuddering, a horrific growl rattling in his throat. But Tarkyn could hardly hear it. His entire head rang with a shrill scream of nerves and terror.
He'd been closer to her. Closer to Elreth than the other males, bar that stupid guard. He'd been the closest, and the most skilled.
Any other day of his life he would have met that onslaught by throwing the Queen aside and putting himself in the enemy's way—gladly.
But he hadn't even thought. It hadn't even registered.
He'd whipped his mate aside instead. His mate who wasn't the target of the attack, though close enough to it to be at risk. Everything in his body, his mind had screamed for Harth's safety first and he'd reacted the moment the wolf moved.
