Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

ELIA

The cave was full—bustling with people. The Security Council were there—minus the wolves—Gahrye, Aymora, and Candace, along with several of the wise-women. There were guards outside, and posted at the door. Plus any number of assistants or helpers standing along the walls, waiting to run messages or gather things the leaders needed.

After everything that had happened in the past two days, it was overwhelming.

Elia stood at Reth's side, hugging his arm as he and the security council had a hasty briefing from Behryn.

Since the moment they'd been reunited outside the amphitheater, he hadn't stopped touching her—holding her hand when they walked, putting his hand to her back when they moved through a door, or had to move around the room. Pulling her into his side when he had to speak with Aymora.

His eyes never strayed from her for long either. Every time she had to turn away to speak to Gahrye or take something from Candace, when she turned back, he was watching her. As people spoke, his eyes would drift to her and he'd squeeze her hand.

She was… relieved. But very aware of the tension in him. His arm felt like a steel bar under her hand. And he kept having to roll his shoulders back and shake his head to release the tension in his neck. It was only now, that his stress was showing, that she realized how good he usually was at hiding it.

Seeing him so tense made her tension greater, and for the first time, she understood why he fought so hard to make things look good to his people.

He was the emotional compass of the room—the City, for that matter. When he forced a smile, or made a joke, the men around him breathed easier. When he lost himself in his concern and had to ask people to repeat themselves, his brows heavy and pinched together, everyone else's voices got tight.

"…already starting to move, though I don't feel confident we can trust them to simply leave. There is a lot of discussion occurring—especially with the serpents. I have every guard on patrol or post, all watching for any break outs of violence or theft. They've been told to allow Anima to remove anything from their homes that they choose."

Reth nodded. "Any aggression in the City?"

"We've broken up a couple of arguments, and one fist-fight. But no, surprisingly, no one seems to be looking for a fight. Yet."

Reth rolled his jaw, like he was uncertain it was true, but he didn't say anything, just ran his hand through his hair and glanced at Elia at his side. "Keep it up, Behryn. And thank you for your support tonight. That was a very difficult balance to find, and you managed it beautifully. Let's catch up in an hour and see if there's anything new?"

"Yes, Sire," Behryn said. Elia blinked at the title, then realized with so many people around, it was all about keeping up appearances. Again.

As the men dispersed, Reth gripped her hand and pulled her towards the back of the cave. "Let's get changed and take a moment before we do anything else," he murmured.

She nodded and followed him, waiting for someone to step into their path, or call him back, but thankfully no one did. They hadn't had a moment to themselves since the they'd been on the mountain. She needed to touch him and see him and make sure he was okay.

As soon as they reached the bedchamber, he let go of her hand and turned behind her to pull the door closed. She walked to the closet to take off her blouse and leathers and find something more comfortable. It was going to be a long night. "Are you okay, Reth?" she asked carefully as she opened the closet. "You feel so tense, I—"

"Elia." His voice was rough, tortured and his arms suddenly around her, his nose in her hair, inhaling. She turned quickly in the circle of his arms to find him looming over her, his eyes tight.

"It's okay, Reth. I'm still here," she whispered, putting a hand to his face.

He put his own over it and turned his face to kiss the palm of her hand. "Love…" he breathed, his eyes squeezing closed as he pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her, dropping his chin to her shoulder. She went willingly, listening to his great heart thrumming in his chest. His heart that was thumping far too quickly.

"Reth, are you okay?" she whispered.

"No," he rasped.

She pulled her head up to meet his eyes and opened her mouth to ask, but his lips were there, his tongue, his tormented breathing. One hand in her hair, the other on her backside, he walked her back to press her against the wall—not with the tension he'd done it last time, but with a tender plea, grasping at her, pulling her closer.

"Reth—"

"Don't speak, Elia, please," he whispered and kissed her again. "Just… just let me have you." He met her eyes for a moment and the shadows that chased themselves behind his gaze made her want to weep.

She put her hands to his neck and pulled him down, opening her mouth and kissing him with the desperation she felt wafting off of him in waves.

He groaned when she slid her tongue along his. Both of them were panting in seconds. Without speaking about it, they each reached for the other's buttons, tugging, arms tangling. He got her shirt off first, and started on the buttons of her leathers.

His hands were in the back of her pants and sliding them down before she'd finished his. But as she stepped out of them, still battling with the last of his buttons, he just croaked, "Leave it, love," and pulling himself out of the mostly-open fly, he hiked her knee up over his hip and pressed against her, groaning, his lips on her neck, not entering her, but sliding himself along her so that her breath caught and she shivered.

Sucking in, she arched against him and clung to his neck, whispering his name as he nudged her jaw back and kissed her throat.