Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

RETH

He'd lain there, holding her, for almost an hour, shocked by the waves of emotion rolling through him—love, possessiveness, protectiveness, fear, delight… Emotions whipped around each other, a storm of chaos in his heart like he'd never experienced before. She had cracked him open like an egg, and even though he wanted it—wanted her—the sheer power of the feelings was overwhelming.

She was suddenly everything.

He'd never imagined a moment in his life when the balance of his decisions would weigh to any side except for his people. But staring at her as she slept, Reth knew… he knew…

He'd let all of them die to save her.

And, Creator forgive him, he knew how wrong that was.

As she'd drifted into sleep he'd been unable to resist curling his body around her, like a mother with a cub, shielding her with his body, warming her. Holding her. And as she'd slept, he'd prayed.

Keep her safe.

Let the people see her.

Keep the wolves at bay…

His mind kept turning back to the declarations she'd made, the people she'd chosen, the ways it would shock or displease the elders… and he kept shaking the thoughts off, pushing them away.

She was human, not Anima. Of course she'd do things differently. He prayed more.

Show me how to teach her.

Show me how to teach them to value what she brings…

Then his mind drifted, away from power and the throne, away even from his people. That image flashed in his mind again, that vision he'd had of her, heavy with child, leading another by the hand, her cheeks full, smile flashing… An ache started in his chest and rolled out of his throat in a sound he'd never made before, a call he didn't understand. But it spoke his heart as he clung to her, pleading for her.

Then she sighed and stretched and—completely unaware of the remarkable experience he was having—she sighed and rubbed her bottom against him where he was already ready for her.

She had one hand back, her fingers in his hair as he stroked her hair back so he could nuzzle and kiss her neck. Then, when she bumped him, he cursed quietly and held her at the hip so she couldn't move. If she didn't stop, she'd push him over the edge. Losing control was the last thing he wanted right now when everything was becoming so clear.

"Are you hurting?" he whispered.

"Not too much," she rasped, her voice rough from the sleep. "Not enough to stop." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"Mmmmmm… do you want to try something?" he purred.

"I told you, Reth, the answer is always yes."

A growl of pleasure puttered in his throat as he curled the arm under her head around until his fingers found her breast, then slid the other down and back, to find where she was ready for him. She stiffened at first, the new angle unfamiliar, but, his lips still on her neck, he slid first one finger, then two inside her, pressing and curling until her mouth dropped open and she arched into his touch.

"There are so many ways to love, Elia," he breathed in her ear as he touched and stroked and she began to loosen under his hands. "We have a lifetime to find them all. But… there is one practice… unique to the pride. We call it the claiming."

"What…" she swallowed. "What is it?"

"Surrender," he breathed, flicking at her nipple just as he pressed in with his other hand.

Her breath caught and her fingers tightened in his hair.

"I would make my plea to you, show you my wish, and you choose, Elia. The choice is always yours. But if you say yes, it will leave you marked forever. Any male that sees the mark… he'll know. And the Leonine, they—"

"I want it, Reth," she breathed. "I want to belong to you. I want people to know it."

That strange noise rolled out of his throat again. He vibrated with need, shook with the urge to plunge into her then and there, but she had to make the choice. The claiming couldn't be forced.

But she was arching back, had brought both arms up now, reaching back for him, her breath short and fast. For a moment he only touched and stroked for her pleasure, then he forced himself to pull his hand back to her hip, to stop kneading her breast.

She made a little noise of frustration and turned her head, "What—"

"It has to be your choice, Elia," he rasped. "I don't want to seduce you into it."

She rolled over in his arms, her eyes wide and serious. "Tell me," she said, pressing into his chest. "Tell me and I'll be honest with you."

Reth swallowed hard.

"I would never hurt you, Elia. Never want to hurt you. But you would bleed. You would be scarred. The claiming is an ancient tradition, rooted in our animal blood. And you would have to give yourself up." He held her gaze. She didn't flinch. "You would be at my mercy completely. If I give over to it… I would take you. That's why you have to choose. You're my mate. My wife. I love you. I will not take you against your will."

"Will it hurt?"

"Mostly, no. Mostly it's intense pleasure," he said, blowing out a breath and tracing a hand down her spine. "It's my role to ensure that… that when you surrender, it's to your benefit. But at the end, when I marked you… there would be pain." He frowned, thinking of it.

She stared into his eyes, then she said without blinking, "I've trusted you since I was six years old, Reth. I know you'd never enjoy hurting me."

Reth closed his eyes and pulled her into his chest.

"Tell me what to do," she whispered and he huffed, unable to resist kissing her, deep and slow.

"Nothing," he breathed against her lips, then took them again. "You do nothing, but surrender."

"Too late," she whispered back and kissed him.