Mated to the Warrior Beast

212 Call Me Fighter

~ ZEV ~

Sasha stared at him, her eyes wide and pleading. Her face was pale, her eyes deeply shadowed with lack of sleep, and heavy with grief. The look on her face… it called to him. Begged him to hear her, and everything in him fought.

She thought they needed the Anima? That they couldn’t get through this without them? He wanted to snap his teeth at the thought!

“But… that’s not what happened,” he growled. “Zan didn’t die. We did get what he needed—”

Sasha’s brow furrowed. “Exactly my point! Can’t you see—it had to happen this way! If we hadn’t met them when we arrived…” her face crumpled and she covered it in her hands. “It was the plan, Zev. The Creator’s plan. It had to happen that way. And I’m so sorry. So sorry that it hurt you—I wish we could have found them in a more… peaceful way. But the truth is we know now… we need them. Zev, Zan needs them.”

Zev let her go like her skin burned. He stepped back, shaking his head. “What are you saying?”

She dropped her hands, but didn’t step up to him again. Left the space between them. “I’m not asking you to like her, or even trust her. Just… forgive her,” she whispered. “See what happens. See if we can do this. Just… try.”

“You think I haven’t been trying?!”

“No, Zev—”

.....

“No, Sasha. No. I will not… I’m not going to ignore what she did just because she helped our son.”

“Zev, please, you have to listen. The people—our people—they want unity. They want harmony—”

“No. I can’t. Sasha… I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this—”

“I’m not asking you to do anything except listen and hope!”

“No,” Zev said, everything in him recoiling from the mental image of his people surrounded and infiltrated by these Anima. “No.”

He turned on his heel. It was instinct. If he didn’t get away, if he didn’t get rid of some of this tension he was going to explode.

“Zev! Please! Don’t—just talk to me—”

But he shifted and ran. Fled.

He fled his mate. Fled the sound of her cries crawling through the forest behind him.

*****

Skhal found him an hour later, his old friend had always been the best tracker he knew. Sasha sent him in a panic, he said.

He’d run from her at a time when she couldn’t risk the time or space to follow him. When she couldn’t leave their son unattended. He knew that. She did too.

He owed her an apology.

But that was between him and his mate. Not him and Skhal.

“I’m not talking about it.” Zev stood on an outcropping of rock, his eyes following the terrain of the land—beyond the forest below, the coastline to the east, following the land west to the valley he’d chosen for their meeting—a wide bowl of a clearing at the base of the northern range. It was this side of the ravine. If they had to, they could block the more difficult route through the mountains and control how easily the Anima could join them by defending the ravine.

They were prepared for that. He’d insisted.

“Zev—” Skhal sighed, his voice deep and weary.

“I said, I’m not talking about it! I’m not even thinking about it—there’s too much still to do—”

Skhal growled. “Bullshit. What are you going to do, kill me for talking?”

Zev snapped his head to look at his old brother, his friend, his advisor and trusted guide. “Don’t let yourself believe that I haven’t been tempted over the years,” he said dryly.

Skhal gave a chuckle. Zev huffed once, but the real humor was lost to him.

He was too cold. Too afraid. And too fucking tired.

Skhal took the last few steps to stand at his side, turning to look out over the land with him, and sighed.

Zev shook his head. “You don’t need to do this, Skhal,” he said quietly. “I’m not disappearing. I just needed a minute. I’ll be back before the horns get blown—”

“My Alpha gave me an order,” he replied.

Zev huffed again, grimacing against the prickle in his conscience about Sasha and ignoring her. “Okay, then, fine… I already know what you’re going to say. So you can go ahead and tell her I know. Let me talk to her about it later.”

“Oh? What is it you know, Zev?”

He gave his friend a flat look from the side, but then turned back to the view and raised his chin.

He did know. And he had heard. But he’d decided it was incorrect. His people, his friends, even his mate, were seduced by this place. Seeking comfort over ultimate safety. A mentality the humans had used against them in the past.

Zev wouldn’t let it happen again.

He clenched his jaw and spoke firmly. “I’ve heard you say that there is potential here. That the Creator brought us here to be safe. That we shouldn’t fight unless they bring the fight to us. That revenge isn’t victory.” He hesitated, then took a deep breath. “And I’ve heard you say everyone is worried about me, and I need to let more people carry this with me, so it’s not all on my shoulders. Sound about right?” he asked pointedly.

Skhal nodded slowly. “Pretty good. But you missed one thing.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“What’s that?”

Skhal turned to look at him and didn’t speak until Zev was forced to turn and meet his eyes. “You’re forgetting that you left.”

Zev’s breath stopped. “What—”

“You were Alpha, and you left. And because of you, humans took over in a way they’d never been able to before. We lost our females. We lost… our lives.”

Zev was stunned, his chest screaming for air. “I was deceived!” he hissed.

Skhal nodded. “By who? Who put your mind in such a fucking twist that you couldn’t see straight?”

“The humans. Their schemes and manipulations. They tricked me, Skhal!”

His friend—one of his oldest friends. The friend who’d been as much big brother or uncle as anything else just met his eyes sadly and nodded.

“Know your enemy, Zev,” he said quietly, then clapped him on the shoulder and turned to walk away, leaving Zev gaping in his wake.