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“Gar, I need to talk to her. She needs to understand-”

“No, Tark. You don’t. She gets it. I’m sure she does. But it’s... it’s making her face some stuff and... I think she needs to do that without you.”

Tarkyn gaped. “We’re in the middle of peace talks!”

Gar snorted. “These aren’t peace talks, Tarkyn, and you know it. She needs to be convinced that that walking weapon back there won’t take her throat the second her back is turned, and he needs to be convinced that she’s human... I mean... You know what I mean.”

He did, but he hadn’t counted on being removed from the conversation completely. He’d assumed Elreth would be angry-even discipline him. But this?

But Gar wasn’t finished. He dropped his voice even lower and his eyes becomes pinpoints. “Did you do as I suggested?”

Tarkyn nodded quickly, though fear fluttered in his chest. “Is it actually El sending me away?” he asked, surprised by the jolt of fear that shot through him at the thought.

.....

But Gar shook his head. “She was barely holding it together. She told me to handle things, that she needed a minute, and then she shifted and took off-Aaryn on her heels. I know where she is-at least, I think I do. But that’s not the point. She was terrified, Tark. Like, she held it together in there, but... she was falling apart. This is going to take some time and I’m telling you, I know my sister. She needs space right now. We all need to just calm the fuck down and breathe for a while.”

“Sure, except you have an entire family that’s been traumatized, sitting in a prison cell!”

“You should have thought about that before you let her see that your loyalties had shifted.”

“My loyalties have not shifted!” Tarkyn growled. “It was instinct-and one I’m sure Elreth would have done the same thing-”

“Calm down, calm down, brother. I get it. I almost missed the Veneration of my Tribe because my mate was in crisis, remember?”

Tarkyn took a deep breath. He did remember. The Rite of Veneration had been conducted at the Hallowed Grounds. The most formal and significant of their rites always were, and they didn’t come more formal than the raising of a new tribe. It hadn’t happened in centuries.

But it had all happened at the same time Gar’s mate was revealed as a human-one of the humans sent to study the Anima in preparation to conquer them. Tarkyn had been the one to discover them approaching the Tree City, and he’d brought the pair back to Elreth and Aaryn.

Gar had been in pieces... torn between his newfound responsibilities, his loyalty to his sister, and his new mate.

It had been a shitshow, but they’d gotten through it.

Gar must have seen all of that pass behind his eyes, because he was nodding.

“I’m telling you, Tark, what this needs is time. Space. Let her think. Let her breathe. She’ll realize that you didn’t do anything she wouldn’t have done-and then she’ll listen. But if you try to press her when she’s still scared...”

Tarkyn shoved out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. He knew Gar was right about El... but Gar didn’t know what Tarkyn was planning. What he’d done.

He raised his gaze to meet the massive male’s and tried not to let his fear show.

Tarkyn swallowed hard. “If Elreth doesn’t hear from my mouth why I failed-”

“She’ll hear it from mine,” Gar growled. “I saw it in the wolf, Tark. I get it. I mean... war destroys more than the body, right?” he said uneasily.

Tarkyn nodded and his heart went out to the young Alpha. He was only a year or so older than Tarkyn had been when the War of the Wolves occurred. Events in those days had set Tarkyn on his course for the future and he couldn’t regret them. But the memories...

Battle and bloodshed, frozen fear... all of it stuck with a soldier. And Gar had carried far more responsibility and weight into the battle with the humans than Tarkyn ever did with the wolves.

It was a measure of the male’s good heart that he looked past his own fear to put himself in the other’s shoes.

He and Gar shared a look, then Tarkyn leaned in. “That feeling you get some days-the bad days? That’s what these Chimera have, Gar. All of them. All the time. They’ve never lived without threat. They’ve all been under attack their entire lives. They don’t know anything else. It’s amazing that they’ve found the capacity to love and find mates... to have hearts for more than just vengeance. We have to help them. She has to see-”

Gar raised his hands. “You’re preaching to the converted, Tark. I’m all for the real peace talks, okay? But that male in that prison isn’t just strong. He’s honed. He’s a weapon. And one that just got pointed right at Elreth’s throat. I’m telling you-she was already on the edge. She’s not sleeping. Aaryn’s really worried about her. What she sees and what she feels are two different things, and she’s trying to balance those. If you try to push her right now, when she just had a spear to her throat...?”

Tarkyn sagged. He knew Gar was right. But Gar didn’t know that Tarkyn had just promised... what he’d done.

“You gotta trust me, Tark,” Gar said quietly, his face earnest. “Trust me to stand for you. I’m not saying flee. I’m saying go someplace. I know you must have a cave out there somewhere. Go take your mate and get some rest. Stay there. Tell me where to find you. When she’s ready we’ll come get you. We’ll fix this, Tark. All of it. But not in the next day or two. That’s all.”

Selfishly, Tarkyn’s heart soared at the idea of taking his mate away alone and free. And he knew she needed it. But then he looked down at her.

Harth stared between him and Gar, her eyes big and shining-questioning.

She didn’t know. The question was... should he tell her? Or did that only put her in more danger?

*****

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(This message added after publication so you aren’t charged for the words.)