Mated to the Warrior Beast

205 Heartbeat of the Day – Part ~ TARKYN ~

Pride comes before a fall.

The echo of the Creator’s voice—the one that spoke not to ears, but to the heart—only made his rage climb.

Tarkyn slammed his fists into the dirt and dead leaves, roaring again as he leaped to his feet and threw himself back into the forms. “Answer me! WHY SHOULD I CARE WHAT YOU THINK, WHY SHOULD I DO WHAT YOU ASK WHEN—”

He misjudged his step and squawked as a tree branch slapped him in the eyes when he turned.

He cried out, whipping himself away from the flash of light and pain in his vulnerable eyes, his toe hooking on an unnoticed clod of dirt and sending him off his feet again.

He didn’t spring back up this time, but sat there, blinking, eyes screaming, vision blurred, and he panicked—had he stupidly, pridefully blinded himself on the morning of potential battle?

He covered his eyes with his palms and sucked in a deep, horrified breath, pleas for mercy and healing automatically rising in his mind and heart—until he caught himself, and froze, everything still black because he had the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.

He’d come here to confront the Creator. To demand justice. To question every ounce of loyalty he’d given and the value of every drop of sweat and blood he had shed.

.....

She was mine first, and I gave her to you.

The voice spoke not in his ears, but in his mind. His heart. It echoed in his soul.

She was mine first, and I trusted her to you.

She finds no danger I do not choose.

She faces no enemy I have not bested.

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And she deserves no male who believes otherwise.

Tarkyn sat in the dirt, hands on his stinging eyes, his chest heaving. His head spun. His heart was a tangle of emotions—still angry, but fearful too. Still determined, but beginning to question himself.

And under it all… still so deeply in love. And so, so terrified of what might happen that day.

He had fallen. An embarrassment. But it was no matter. Soldiers fell often. They just got back to their feet and pressed on...

But he had no spear.

You have your strength that I gave you—the body you use to fight. The mind that solves problems. And the heart that seeks good.

You do still have that, don’t you, Tarkyn?

Tarkyn sighed and let himself roll back so he lay on the ground, hands still on his eyes—heart still fluttering in fear that, just maybe, he’d actually done himself harm.

That the Creator was punishing him for—

Discipline is not punishment. Discipline corrects. It brings security. It brings clarity. It cautions correctly. It develops wisdom.

Punishment is intended for harm.

Tarkyn blew out a breath, a shiver rocking through him.

“I gave so much…” he murmured. “I was willing to give so much.”

Did you not mean it? Was your sacrifice offered only to receive?

“No.” He hated to admit it, but he was losing his fight. “No, I meant it.”

Do you regret your vows?

“No! But…”

But?

“I didn’t know… I didn’t know how it would feel. I didn’t know how much it would hurt. How frightening it would be. I didn’t understand what I was committing to.”

There was no immediate answering thought or conviction. No rolling voice in his mind, or idea in his heart.

Tarkyn considered his last thought.

I didn’t understand what I was committing to.

He hadn’t understood when he was seventeen and recruited to protect the Queen—Elreth’s mother—what we was getting into. But he’d thrived.

He hadn’t understood when they walked to war with the wolves, what would happen and how many people would be harmed in it. And yet, his people had been better, stronger in its wake.

He hadn’t understood when he was twenty-five and offered his first leadership, how deeply he would care for the soldiers under him, and how heavily he’d carry the weight of their safety. But he’d grown stronger as a result—capable of more, until the weight didn’t sit so heavily anymore. Until he began to welcome it.

He hadn’t understood when his eye had been caught by the newly dominant Queen that it was his body and her strength that drew him towards her, not anything to do with his soul. Yet he knew now that she was not for him, and he was utterly grateful she hadn’t returned his interest.

He hadn’t understood when Elreth offered him the position of Captain how deeply consuming that responsibility would become. How wholly it would devour his life. Yet he wouldn’t have trusted it to anyone else better than himself.

And he hadn’t known when he walked to the Hallowed Grounds and began the Rite, whether the Creator would answer his plea. Yet, even now… even knowing the struggle they would face, the challenges, and the threats… he wouldn’t change it.

She was the other half of his heart and soul, and he would carry the weight of loving her into hell itself.

Gladly.

He sighed and dropped his hands from his face, though he didn’t yet try to open his eyes.

He lay there in the dirt, examining his own heart and his life and everything that he faced that day… every risk and fear.

Will you submit, Tarkyn? Would you trust me to know what must come… for you to reach your very best?

He didn’t answer immediately. It was not a question to answer flippantly—he did know that.

Would he submit?

What would happen if he didn’t?

If he didn’t, he would be free to choose. To steal his mate away, to leave the Anima and the Chimera to follow whatever fateful path was laid out for them today. And it wouldn’t be his concern.

Tarkyn swallowed hard and tried to imagine taking Harth away to be alone somewhere in the wilds of Anima.

For a moment, his heart sang—free to sleep, free to eat, free to love… free to just be. No fighting. No combat. No enemies.

The kind of freedom they both sought.

But was it?

Knowing he had abandoned those he’d vowed to protect… knowing he was followed and his example would have deep and unpredictable effects on others… knowing that he understood both sides of this coin in a way that no others did—except perhaps Skhal—because their hearts weren’t entwined both with the Chimera, and with the Anima.

Will you submit, Tarkyn?

Tarkyn held his breath as the sensation of a broad, warm hand rested on his forehead, trailing down to press over his eyes… and the last of the stinging lifted.

Will you trust me and my goals for you?

Grief, heavy and dragging, choked him, but Tarkyn nodded, blinking back tears as his eyes flinched at the sunlight above creeping through the trees, but slowly cleared.

“I will,” he whispered. “But I’ll never stop being afraid for my love.”

Yes, you will. Because perfect love drives out fear. Trust me. I know.

With a groan and a final shudder to release the last of his anger, Tarkyn pushed to his feet and started back across the clearing in the direction of the encampment, to find his mate.

Because whatever this day might bring, he would never leave her side.