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*****

~ GAR ~

They had Rika.

Gar couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He was having trouble moving.

His entire body hummed, shaking. Cold sweat trickled down his spine. He could barely hear over his pulse thumping in his ears.

He listened to Tarkyn get everyone focused and organized and he nodded and grunted and said something, he thought. But his movements were stiff and his responses robotic.

They had Rika.

He left her alone. She was bleeding and she was sad, and he left her.

.....

A shudder rocked through him. Tarkyn snapped something… an order. He followed it, followed the male and his sister and Aaryn and others… he could do as he was told. But he couldn’t think, and in that moment he didn’t think he could have issued an order to save his life.

They had his mate. She was bleeding and alone. And it was his fault.

He had to find her.

It didn’t matter if there was a baby or not—now or ever. What mattered was her. Only her.

Then as they walked to gather some of the fighters, he caught sight of the forest and the hills, the direction Pegg had run from and he realized… her scent was out there. She was out there.

With a growl so low it seemed to come from the dirt under his feet, Gar looked at Pegg.

Pegg who’d left her.

Pegg who knew where to find her.

Pegg who he’d left her with.

Pegg who’d promised to protect her.

He stopped walking and Pegg did too, the question in his eyes. Elreth noticed first and stopped, turning, then the others one by one. There were too many of them, all spread out, all of them working together and who gave a fuck because that male had left her alone!

Silent, he launched himself at Pegg, hands clawed for the male’s throat and a guttural snarl tearing from his own.

“You were supposed to stay with her!”

There was a ripple of shouts and murmurs—everyone else realizing what was happening and moving—some to grab Gar, others just to back away.

But he’d given them all too much warning. No matter how he twisted, swung, or shook, he couldn’t get a clear path to the male. Tarkyn, Aaryn, Reece, even Zev, they all danced between them, urging Gar not to hurt the male—who was backing away, his hands held high.

Gar was still having trouble seeing mate’s dear friend—the smart-mouthed, winged horse—in this male’s human body.

But the eyes… it was all in the eyes.

He lunged again, and Tarkyn was the one to get an arm around his neck and swing him sideways, almost off his feet.

“You can’t save her by hurting her friends, no matter what responsibility they hold!” he hissed in Gar’s ear, levering him into a headlock.

Such a simple thing. Gar never would have let it happen if he was thinking straight. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

“Focus, Gar,” Tarkyn growled, finally releasing him when he went slack and stopped fighting the headlock. But he kept Gar facing him, eye to eye. “The best and fastest way to get her back to safety is to bring everyone along, anyone who can help. And he can definitely help,” the Captain said sternly.

Gar’s eyes slid sideways to find the horse-male again, but Tarkyn jerked at his shirt. “Focus! You are needed—to get her! Snap out of it, Gar. Focus.”

It took a moment and several deep breaths, but he finally got himself under some kind of trembling control. Then Tarkyn nodded.

“We need Protectors. And Guards. We need Anima and Chimera. We need everyone to figure out how to fight together—fast. You’re the man for that, Gar. You don’t get stuck in the rules like I do. Get out there, get your fighters together. Get the wolves from each people practicing linking with each other—and give them signals to use. Get the owls and Ibex’s in the mountains. Make this happen. We’re going to find her, and then you’re taking them in to get her right?”

Gar stared at him.

“Right?!” Tarkyn shook him again.

“Right.”

Tarkyn blew the air from his nose and nodded again. “Don’t forget it. He stays safe because he knows the last place we found the trail. Do you hear me?”

Gar nodded, but his stomach was bubbling with fear and disgust and confusion.

His mate was out there.

They had her.

But Tarkyn was right, he realized, as he took a deep breath and tried to shake off the fog that wanted to steal his wits. He was needed here. He would keep her safe. And he would kill every last one of them to do it.

These cunts had picked the wrong fucking fight.

*****

~ TARKYN ~

Dealing with Gar was the only time he let Harth away from his side. It hadn’t been a shock so much that the young male had lost his control for a moment—what had surprised Tarkyn was how long it had taken him to get there.

Gar was in shock. He needed to move, and eat, and focus.

So he’d intervened—somewhat roughly—but it had worked. Then, with a silent signal to Zev and Lerrin to stay between the two they’d all marched forward, Tarkyn with his hand tightly gripping his mate’s.

He spent the next hours issuing orders, choosing gathering points, assigning roles and keeping a side-eye on Gar, just in case. But the further they got from the moment of his shock, the better the male coped, until he was brusquely issuing orders of his own and cuffing wolves back into line.

They’d already settled on several trackers and scouts. The Hares had been chosen as messengers—to keep the slower pace with the trackers that weren’t wolves and couldn’t mind link to share information, then run back to give the message to a wolf, or the leaders here when they were close enough.

They’d kept their central gathering to the east, in the Valley of the Drums, since it seemed that the bears, or tigers, or whoever was behind this, had stayed on this side of the WildWood.

They would likely anticipate allies launching from the Tree City. Perhaps this location, further north and east, would give them some small advantage. And if they were watched or ambushed, their enemy would be forced to split forces between the Tree City and this location. They were hours walk from each other. Even a massive force couldn’t cover both fronts at once.

Tarkyn stopped walking then, tugging Harth to a halt too and turning to look around and get his own head on straight.

Gar was running exercises with the rapidly growing ranks that kept arriving from both the Tree City and the Chimera.

El had returned to a post just north of the Tree City to organize the resources and medical triage, and make certain that the Chimera who arrived were sent to the right leader to find their place.

Zev was… an uncertain quantity. He’d run halfway to the Tree City to get hold of his son—the wet nurse who’d been caring for him had been brought towards the Valley under guard, rushing to be close to Zev now that they knew Sasha had been taken.

Now that Zev had his son, he wouldn’t let him go, muttering that he would keep him safe for Sasha.

It wasn’t a problem yet—Zev was happy to order his fighters and issue his directives while holding his son—but what happened when they learned the location of the females? He couldn’t imagine Zev would sit back and not be a part of the battle to retrieve them.

But that was a problem for a later moment—when they knew where they were actually going.

Right now, the lull was setting in, and Tarkyn wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

This almost always happened before combat or a significant operation. The moment when everything that he could do was done.

It always set in his skin like an itch. A quiver that insisted he had something important to be doing, but wouldn’t leave him alone when he couldn’t find it. It made energy vibrate in his bones and muscles, adrenaline shoot through his veins, and kept his heart hammering in his chest.

It screamed at him that he was failing… something! Someone! If only he could figure out what.

He should be grateful it wasn’t happening when it was time to sleep, he supposed. But as he stood there in the middle of the large clearing they’d chosen for their central hub and turned around in a circle, he couldn’t see a single thing he needed to do.

Everyone was capable. Everyone was focused. Everyone was working.

It was his job now to wait.

And that was the hardest job of all.

So when Harth tugged him away to the east, towards the treeline, he didn’t immediately resist. Not until they’d passed out of the clearing and into the shadow of the trees and she was picking up her pace.

“Harth, love, I can’t go anywhere, I have to—”

“You need to breathe, Tarkyn,” she said, tugging him along behind her as she leaned into his grip to keep him moving. “Don’t worry, I’m linked with the wolves—including Zev. Nothing’s going to happen without us knowing it.”

He opened his mouth to protest again, but realized he was still walking and… he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want to return to the clearing.

He didn’t want to fight.

The thought hit him like a lightning bolt from the sky, stealing his breath.

Never in his life had Tarkyn run from a fight, but the jangling in his belly and that quivering energy in his bones… that’s what it was, he realized.

Never before could he have been pulled away from his role in the hours before a fight. But now… today… he had a mate. And Creator forsake him, but he didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to risk being taken from her. Not for a moment.