Mated to the Warrior Beast

231 Too Much – Part Added after publication so you aren’t charged: Sorry I’m behind on comments! I’m travelling internationally soon and working like crazy on chapters to publish when I’m gone. Forgive me!

There’s a faces book live for the end of Warrior on 12 March! Join my reader group on linktr.ee/authoraimee!

*****

~ SASHA ~

Sasha was holding Zan and organizing a search party when Zev melted out of the shadows of the trees to appear at her shoulder.

She’d stopped talking, gaping at him, but he’d just reached for Zan, to take their son so her hands were free.

Everyone stared for a long moment, but he just looked at their baby.

Sasha had cleared her throat and changed the subject.

She didn’t want to humiliate him further, and there were still so many things to do.

.....

But she only had half a mind to do them with, because half of her was turned to Zev as surely as a flower opened to the sun. She had been terrified he was hurt—or hurting someone else—but he showed up with eyes downcast and not carrying as much tension in his shoulders as he had before.

What had he done? What was he thinking now?

‘Are you okay?’ she asked pathetically as she tried to listen to a report from some of the Chimera that a quick scout surrounding the valley showed that, at least in the immediate vicinity, the Anima Queen had been true to her word. There were no guards. No patrols.

In fact, in the valley below the treeline, both Anima and Chimera were… mingling. Carefully. Warily. But they were not avoiding each other.

Sasha didn’t know whether to celebrate, or brace for impact.

‘I’m fine. Focus on them. They need you right now.’ Zev’s voice in her head was a little flat, but not entirely dead. And not simmering with the heat of rage as it had been before. He sounded… tense. Unhappy. But in control of himself.

And when he’d checked over Zan and satisfied himself that their son was safe, he put himself right at Sasha’s shoulder, just as he used to when she had been leading them against the humans—watching over her with piercing eyes, staying quiet, interjecting when he thought he had useful advice, but otherwise simply adding the strength of his support to her.

If she hadn’t just confronted him in front of all the Chimera and a good chunk of the Anima, she would have thought everything was fine. Better, even, than it had been.

He didn’t seem as closed off.

But he also seemed… low. A little bit dead in the eyes. And very, very quiet.

But he hadn’t run. He hadn’t lost his temper. And even when a group of Chimera came to her, wanting release to visit the Tree City, even then Zev didn’t growl or snap. He tensed behind her, but said nothing.

She’d wanted to make the journey to the Tree City alone with him so they could talk. But the questions and concerns of the Chimera were endless.

Sasha was determined to get Zan to their healers to see if there was anything else they could do—even Zev agreed that was the priority for them. But every time one Chimera had a question answered, or checked in on the baby, another would appear almost immediately in their wake.

So they’d traveled—exhausted, but hopeful—without talking. Then Zan had needed to be fed, and one of the Anima healers had ushered Sasha to one of their Great Trees. It wasn’t a prison, this time, though a cold chill swept through her as she entered, and Zev only poked his head in the door, then said he’d wait outside.

She almost said no—worried that now with so many of the Anima were close, he might be triggered to anger again. But when she peered out the window, he’d squatted just to the left of the door, his back to the tree, head tipped back against it and eyes closed.

“Let him breathe and think. That’s what males need most,” the healer had said gently, putting a hand to Sasha’s shoulder. “Please, come sit over here—I need to see him feed.”

They had another type of milk for Zan to try. Sasha was nervous, but willing to take whatever help she could get.

It didn’t go well, but he did feed—and almost as much as he should have. But it took almost an hour. So by the time she walked out the door, Zev was pacing the dirt in front of the Tree.

He thanked the healer—which was a good sign—but then took Zan from Sasha, insisting on being the one to carry him, and hurried Sasha away.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her as soon as they were alone on the trail.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Do you think you’re strong enough to head back to the camp tonight—”

“Zev… no,” Sasha said, stopping on the trail to turn and face him. He stopped too, reluctantly, Zan pressed against his shoulder. “We have to be here. The healers—they have one who specializes as a midwife and she’s delivering tonight, but she’s going to be back in the morning and they think she might know exactly what’s causing his problem. We can’t leave.”

Zev’s jaw flexed and he looked darkly over her shoulder into the forest beyond, hissing at her to be quiet because there were people coming.

They stood there, staring at each other and tense as two tall, Anima females walked past them, greeting them.

Sasha smiled at them, but Zev just nodded his head, watching them with eagle eyes until he was confident they were far enough away not to hear them. Then he finally looked back down at Sasha.

He was about to say something, but Sasha shook her head. “We need to talk,” she said gently. “The nurse offered to take him for this sleep so they could monitor how often he’s waking. Why don’t we do that? Let them have him for a couple of hours and we go for a walk. Just us?”

He argued at first—but she made the point that if they’d truly wanted to hurt Zan they’d had far better chances to do it. And he obviously did want to talk to her.

So reluctantly, he lowered their son into a woven bassinet, warned the healer to get a wolf to link with him if there was a problem, then led Sasha out of the healing center.

They walked silently, but together, for several minutes, until the trails became narrow and the trees thick, and Zev said there were no more sounds of others nearby.

There was a thick, fallen tree trunk at the side of the trail. Sasha settled herself on it, trying not to let him see how exhausted she felt. She tilted her chin up to look at the midnight sky above them through the gap in the trees, and it made her smile.

This world was beautiful.

But Zev was pacing in front of her, and there was nothing beautiful about that.

“Why don’t you sit with me?” she asked him carefully.

“Because we’re in the middle of the hive,” he said quietly. “I feel like we’re talking about bunking down in the middle of the sanctuary.”

“Zev. You know this isn’t like that.”

“Isn’t it?” he muttered.

“No, Zev, it’s not.” She got to her feet and stepped in front of him so he was forced to stop pacing, or bowl her over. The fact that he jerked to a halt even in his anger just made her heart soften—even as broken as he felt, he still protected her.

But the wary, bitter expression on his face was dark, and the light in his eyes wasn’t heated for her, but because of the “enemy.”

As he waited for her to speak, she considered and discarded several different things—then realized she was getting tied in knots trying not to trigger him, and she just… gave up.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” she said quietly. “You’re not seeing this clearly. And I understand why. But Zev… it has to stop.”

“What has to stop?” he asked through his teeth. “Be specific.”

She folded her arms. “You have to stop looking for… vengeance, or whatever it is that’s driving you right now.”

He gaped at her. “You think I should just say, oh, hey, it’s cool—that whole prison thing, it’s no biggie—”

“No, Zev, you know I don’t think that. Would you stop? You know if Elreth or Tarkyn had suddenly showed up in Thana we would have had them under guard and asked questions and all kinds of things before we trusted them not to be plants for the humans! I want you to look me in the eye and tell me you really think that, Zev—because if you do, you’re lying to yourself.”

He leaned in, his eyes sparking. “Guards? Sure. Questions, definitely. Suspicion, yes. I never said otherwise. But this wasn’t that.”

“Zev—”

“These people are just like the human Team, Sasha—the ends justify the means—”

“Bullshit!” she spat. “There were two things that needed to be forgiven—when Elreth came at me when I was holding Zan, and the way they bound you when they drugged you. I checked before we left the tree that day, Zev. I told you—they thought you’d sleep longer. You burned through their drugs faster than they expected. Elreth and I were halfway through very useful discussions before you woke up, and I think if you’d stayed asleep, when you did finally wake, you wouldn’t have been bound.”

“I can’t believe you’re taking their side—”

“I am doing no such thing! I am trying to look at this from the perspective of a leader and an Alpha instead… instead of a mother and mate. You think it didn’t kill me that they hurt you that way, Zev? You think it didn’t break my heart? You think I wasn’t terrified for our son?”

Zev just stared at her, and her heart sank.