SHOUT OUT TO AlexandriaKM, Nessa52283, Citrus_Time and to YOU: We were just a little short of our goal yesterday, but you have been SO generous with your gifts and powerstone votes that I’m adding another chapter to the mass release anyway. You humble me, and make me smile with your comments every day. Thank you! You’re a joy!
*****
RETH
Reth came back to himself, laid out on the forest floor, his clothes in bloodstained tatters around him from the hurried shift. He blinked and it took a moment for his sight to clear, which was odd. But then a shudder rocked him and he almost shifted again.
Fuck.
He’d thought that shifting into his beast form to fight the Silent One and exerting his dominance so aggressively would have satisfied the urge. But his body still wanted to transform, still wanted to take and master him.
What was wrong with him?
He rolled over to get to all fours and had to bite back a cry. His ribs. Pressing one hand to them proved that the beast had indeed gotten its claws into him before he’d changed—and the swipe had given him a decent battering to his ribs, as well.
Ah, well. At least the creature had gotten a taste of him before he’d had to kill it. He hated killing the Silent Ones when all they did was follow the instincts the Creator gave them. Some of the Anima found a strange kind of sport in it, but Reth never had. Hunt for food, certainly. But never for the pleasure of it—and never to create fear or pain for the animal.
Being far more careful now, Reth tucked his arm into his sore side and rolled slowly until he was on all fours—well, three, since he kept that arm in tight. Four sets of feet appeared in front of him just as he was about to try to stand.
“Majesty! Are you alright?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, then groaned as his back began to tremble and roll with the urge to shift again. Creator’s Light, what was wrong with him? “Get back. Step back!” he snarled, swallowing back the urge to change. If he shifted now with all these young males in front of him, he might not recognize them as allies. His beast form worked almost purely on instinct. He was aware of himself, but only as a presence. He didn’t think clearly until he was back in his own flesh.
The four shuffled back, but didn’t leave—obviously alarmed at what they saw on him. Naked as he was, they could see his body rippling, trying to shift. These four were all just old enough to be past the age of those unintentional shifts that so plagued the teenage boys of the Pride. The elder scouts would be fine, even if he did shift, they’d know how to avoid him. But that young man who’d come with his father.
“Tell… Eryan… to get his son away…” he snapped, rolling his head to push back the mane that wanted to grow around his shoulders. “If we both shift…”
“Sire!”
“Do it! Tell the elders… if I don’t come back right away… lead me towards the city. But don’t let me in! Take me… Aymora… she has a soothing…”
“But—what’s happening? Why—”
“No time…” he groaned and it echoed in his chest with the rumble of his beast. “I’ll travel faster and better… as a beast anyway… just… don’t let me into the city. Bring Behryn… he’ll know what to do…”
The four continued to stare at him, wide eyed.
“GO!” he roared, and they ran, sinking into the shadows silently, just as they should. But still Reth didn’t let himself give over to the shift. The longer they had to get to the others and deliver the message, the better chance that if he couldn’t come back, they’d be prepared to deal with a frustrated, wounded, King of Beasts, trying desperately to get back to his mate.
Oh shit.
Elia.
She couldn’t see him like this. She’d be terrified.
He gritted his teeth and fought for as long as he could, but something in him had lost control. The beast inside roared, swiping at him, trying to claw it’s way out.
He let himself back down onto the forest floor, clenched his hands to fists, and held on as long as he could.
He didn’t know what had happened, what was causing such a fierce lack of control. But he was going to find out before he returned to his mate.
As long as the men did what he said and got him to Aymora.
“Creator, please…” he murmured a prayer as his back began to stretch. “Let me come back to myself. Don’t let me hurt Elia. Please.”
Then he gave up and sank into the teeth and claws of his Anima self.
A moment later the mighty King growled as he got to his four, great paws and surveyed the little clearing, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents around him. There were other males nearby, but moving away, and still more out of range. He roared to let them know he was the King of this Forest and they would not do well to come into his territory. But his tail twitched and he shook his head.
His side hurt. He turned, looking for the challenger he’d killed. It was sprawled not far away among the underbrush. But when he smelled it, he blew the breath out of his nostrils in alarm. There was a strange, sharpness to its scent. Something unnatural. He would not eat from that carcass, no matter that he needed the strength.
No… He turned west and let a groaning huff resonate in his chest. The forest around him went utterly silent.
He needed his den to rest and heal.
He needed his mate.
So he would pad through the forest until he found her.