Taming the Queen of Beasts

GAHRYE 

Gahrye leaned back in his seat at the desk, stretching, his hands on his face and elbows high. He'd been plagued by this tension for days, the swarm of nerves that churned in his stomach, and it was driving him crazy. He'd slept maybe four hours last night if he was lucky, accidentally waking Kalle when he decided to get up before the sun and go back to his studies.

It had seemed so wrong to not just lay there and hold her, to keep her close. But his only hope… that he was wrong… he had to find out. And the Creator wasn't cooperating. His gifts had given him only half the answers. He prayed the rest were in the histories.

He had to find out. Something just wasn't coming together, and he needed to understand. He had to! He couldn't make this call without being certain. But the window of time before he had to make the crossing was swiftly closing. And so, here he sat. And here, once again, he was confused.

He dropped his hands to the arms of the chair, but stayed leaning back, staring at the ceiling.

The need was clear. But the tools…

He shook his head, huffing. Kalle said he never sounded more like a horse than when he was frustrated.

The thought of her made him smile—and ache.

He would give the histories one more hour and if he still didn't find what he was looking for, he'd go find her for breakfast. She'd gone for a walk, probably near the portal again. Every time he was going to cross she spent more time out there. He didn't fear that she'd try to cross. Neither of them was tempted to try that. But he suspected that as the deadline drew near, she suffered the same itch he did—to be in place. Just in case.

To try to control what couldn't be changed.

His chair creaked as he sat back up with a heavy sigh, looking around the room. He'd first seen this room over twenty years ago when he crossed from Anima into the human world for the first time, blood vowed to protect Elia, his Queen. It had been a bedroom then—Elia's, when he was first introduced to it. And when he later returned, alone, to the human world, and the Big House of the Guardians, it was to find that Kalle had kept the suite, just to feel close to him. He'd felt safer there than anywhere else in the massive estate. Because it was familiar, he thought. And so, they'd stayed there together.

Twenty years. Twenty fucking years… he shook his head. Twenty years of love and joy and mostly peace, and this was how it was going to end?

He dropped his face into his hands again, praying. Praying that what he didn't understand would become clear. That what he couldn't see ahead, would light for him and bring hope and joy.

Praying that he was wrong, and that the timing for when he needed to return would become clear. Because he was torn between panic to get over there and talk to Reth and Elia, and complete dread at the idea, and every desire to never have to have that conversation.

The turmoil in his chest felt like hands, pulling on his ribs, cracking his chest, trying to pull him in two different directions. It was why he couldn't sleep. And why half of him wanted to get out of that chair, pack a bag, and get over to Anima. Get this fucking job done and come back and hold his mate while he could. But—

"Dad?" a deep voice said behind him quietly.

Gahrye dropped his hands quickly and turned for the door, forcing a smile to his lips.

His son, Reece, stood in the doorway, his shoulders filling the breadth of it, one hand on the doorknob that he'd opened, the other clasping the frame of the door like he was afraid of being blown back out of it. His handsome face (Kalle said he looked like Gahrye, which always made Gahrye roll his eyes) was pale. His jaw was set and his brow furrowed.

What the hell? "What's going on?"

"Promise me you aren't leaving Mom," Reece snarled.

Gahrye gaped and had to make his mind repeat the words to make sure he'd heard them correctly.

"What the—of course not! Reece, what—?"

"Promise me! I know you're planning a trip across. Promise you're coming back and you aren't leaving her here!"

Gahrye turned the desk chair—an antique they'd found made entirely of leather and wood, except for brass wheels. The only chair he'd ever had that didn't stink of the horrible synthetics this world was full of. He got to his feet and strode across the room to take his son in his arms—but Reece straightened and stepped back into the living area of their suite, like he didn't want the hug. Gahrye stopped, confused.

Even though it had been true since Reece was fourteen, even now, six years later, he marveled again to find himself looking his son in the eye.

His son was a man. It blew his mind.

Gahrye was confident he could still take him if he had to, though.

"Reece," he said, gently but firmly, "I'm planning a trip, but it's no different than any of the others. In fact, it will probably be shorter. I'm not staying over there. And I would never leave your mother."

"But—"

"Reece," he said, voice low and eyes locked on his sons. "Listen to yourself. Your mother is my mate. I would never… you know that."

Reece blinked, his chest rising and falling, deeply, but too quickly. His jaw twitched and he stank of fear. Something had him very upset.

"Son, what's going on?" Gahrye asked him quietly.

But before Reece could answer, the door from the hallway into the suite swung open, too fast. Kalle came to an abrupt halt when she saw her mate and son standing there, talking to each other in the doorway of Gahrye's office.

As it had every day for over twenty years, Gahrye's heart pattered, seeing her. But that rush of love was quickly overshadowed, because Kalle stared at him like she was terrified.

"What is it?" he asked, suddenly afraid he might know the answer.

"It's happening," she breathed. "They're here. And the humans are already in Anima. It's happening, Gahrye."

Then she threw herself across the room and into his chest.. He caught her, clutching her to him as Gar and Aaryn stepped in behind her, both looking very disturbed.