~ HARTH ~
Her mate moved like liquid lightning. He took Harth's breath away.
An ear-shattering roar vibrated the very stone beneath them as he whipped sideways and to his feet, snatching the spear and turning it against the intruders in a single, smooth movement that left him standing between her and the handful of males who'd appeared from nowhere, bristling with weapons.
One of them had screamed an instruction at him, but Tarkyn ignored it, landing on his feet half-crouched and roaring, as Harth rolled away from the males, scrambling away instinctively, only to come up against the back wall of the shallow cave and flatten herself against it, heart pounding now from the adrenalin rush of abject terror, rather than the desire that had been heating her blood just seconds before.
Four. There were four of them. Silhouetted by the morning sun outside the cave, they were massive and armed and—
"STAND DOWN!" Tarkyn roared, his back rippling towards the shift. The males in front of him stared, stunned, but all of them poised for attack—and none of them dropped their weapons.
Tarkyn stood before them, spear clasped in his hands in such a way he could stab with it, or use it as a block. His chest heaved, shoulders rising and falling, and she could feel the Alpha power wafting off him in waves that raised her hackles and urged her to submit. She had to fight to keep her head up and her body from curling forward.
Holy shit.
"Tarkyn," one of the males said, his voice stern, but she caught the question in it, too. "She's an invader. The Queen—"
"She is my mate," he snarled.
All four males froze.
"Impossible," one of them muttered, shaking his head.
Tarkyn bristled. "She. Is. My. Mate. You will lower your weapons and submit, or I swear on the Creator Himself I will take every one of your throats."
Harth had heard males threaten each other before—both Chimera and humans. She'd seen powerful males fight. And she'd lived in fear of others who brought a nameless, sinister threat. But she'd never in her life heard the deadly menace of her mate's tone combined with such a reluctant, but rock-solid conviction of his own lethal nature.
Every hair on her body stood tall and her breath shuddered out of her in a whimpering rush.
Tarkyn twitched, wanting to check that she was unharmed, she knew. But he couldn't back down from the males in front of him.
"I am your Captain," Tarkyn growled through his teeth, "and I am issuing an order—"
"Tarkyn, the Queen," one of the males said, his voice apologetic. "She sent us. Gave us orders from her own lips. We can't… we can't just ignore it."
"The Queen sent you to interrupt me with my mate?!"
The soldiers looked at each other. Then their leader, the one who'd called to him when they arrived, shook his head. "She sent us to find you—find her. Because… because she's working for them. The humans, Tarkyn. She's one of them. And she's lying to you."
'I'm not!' she sent to Tarkyn instinctively. 'I'm not lying!'
Tarkyn dropped his chin in a single nod, then shivered and backed up a step, then another one. His entire body was marble, tanned rippling marble—yet she could see the tiny quivers in his knees. He was weak, and getting weaker now that his adrenalin was fading. Harth's heart thudded painfully in her chest as her mind conjured what might happen if her mate collapsed and she was left alone with these males.
Their eyes lacked the predatory glint that she'd seen in some of the humans, but that didn't mean anything. Some of the most outwardly calm and kind people she'd come in contact with at the human sanctuary where she'd been imprisoned had ultimately proved to be the cruelest.
But Tarkyn, unaware of her dark thoughts, continued to back up, slowly, step by step, until he stood, still facing his soldiers, still gripping that spear, with his back to the cave wall, and placed himself just in front of her, covering her from their eyes.
"She's my mate," he growled. "I can feel her. Sense her. She's not lying."
The soldier sighed, then lifted the point of his spear and placed it butt-end down on the stone floor of the cave, motioning for the others to put aside their weapons too, which they did, albeit reluctantly.
Then the male locked eyes with Tarkyn and as he spoke, Harth felt her mate's tension slowly increase.
"Tarkyn," the soldier said, his tone patient, but wary, "She's not one of us. She's Chimera."
"I know, we've spoken of it. I can smell her."
"The humans—"
"I know. I questioned her. Do you really believe I wouldn't question! Me? We already—"
The soldier's gaze cut to Harth and his jaw set, his eyes flinty. "Explain what you are to him," he snapped. "Tell him who made you."
Tarkyn growled. "She already told me, what choice did she have that the Creator made her differently."
"Yes, Tarkyn, but which creator?" the soldier said firmly.
Tarkyn frowned and Harth's heart squeezed seeing how these males who had obviously learned about the Chimera's beginnings thought of her… wondering if her mate, her precious mate… would he feel the same way?
She stared at the male who'd been speaking, terrified, and didn't answer, pleading with Tarkyn in her mind to know that she was true, and that her heart was his.
But the soldier only shook his head, cursing under his breath, then looked back to his Captain. "When you didn't come back on the third day, all of us were looking. Even the King and Queen," he said, shoving the words out as if they were distasteful. "We worried about you, about what might have happened. A scout found your trail out of the Hallowed Grounds—the wrong end of the Hallowed grounds—and followed it to the water, but from there we were clueless. We spread out from that point.
"The King and Queen were among the fist that found her trail—only hers, not yours—and followed it. Hours of travel, as quickly as they could safely run and track. Until they discovered many trails. Many scents. Our best scouts went forward last evening and located an encampment. She isn't alone."
She heard a sharp intake of breath from Tarkyn. But they hadn't talked about this. She hadn't lied! He hadn't asked, and she was distracted… she would have explained!
But the soldier pushed on, not letting Tarkyn have any chance to think. "While the fists waited for news from the scouts, the King and Queen stumbled on another pair, walking back to the… the village they'd made."
The soldiers eyes snapped to Harth as if she were to blame. "They are not Anima, Tarkyn. The male we took… he almost killed the King and two of our soldiers before they pinned him down."
Harth gasped. "Who? Which—"
Tarkyn snapped his head to her, willing her to keep her mouth closed, and without thought, she obeyed, though she bristled. These were his people. He should lead. But… who had they taken?
Harth stared at the soldier, but all his attention was on Tarkyn. "We can't be certain yet, the trackers are still working, but we estimate there are almost three hundred of them. Are you hearing me, Tarkyn? This isn't an undiscovered servant of the humans. This is an invasion, hidden from us, and primed for attack."