Taming the Queen of Beasts

ELRETH

Despite her elation, she knew this wasn't over. Now that they'd chosen each other, they had to prove that they were stronger together than apart. They had to fight their way out of the circling lines of the tribes.

Traditionally, this part of the Rite was little more than show. Often there was laughter and teasing as the couple pushed through the tribes to run away together. 

But as the drums picked up their beat, and the shuffling thump of feet in the steps of the dance got louder and more insistent, Elreth turned her head to measure the people.

She found every kind of expression and gaze looking back at her—some excited, some relieved, some determined… and some angry. 

So far, everyone had played by the rules of the Rite. So far there hadn't been injuries, or violations. But as she turned back to Aaryn, she wasn't confident that things would stay that way.

'Tension in the people,' she signed.

He nodded and frowned, scanning the crowd over her head. 'Together, we'll do it,' he signed back.

She squeezed his arm and stole one more kiss before turning, putting her back to the flames and preparing. 

The drums clicked up another notch, pounding, thumping, vibrating in the air and in the dirt under their feet.

"Are you ready?" she murmured to Aaryn below the level of the drums and crowd.

He nodded, clasping her hand in his and glaring at the lines of people circling in front of them. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life," he said with a frightening smile.

"You want North or South?" she asked carefully, referring to how they had been taught to fight, back to back, or shoulder to shoulder, each covering one side for the other. 

"Oh, I'll take North," he said through this teeth, which meant he would lead, calling the fight, and she would follow his orders.

Elreth grinned, anticipating the reactions when the people got to see the side of her mate that they were unfamiliar with. "Sounds good to me."

"Let's do this."

Shoulder-to-shoulder, they launched themselves into the crowd, shifting until they were back-to-back as the crowd surrounded them. Elreth prayed her skirts wouldn't trip him.

At first, Aaryn called the switches, when they would turn or shift positions to catch awkwardly placed attacks or new attackers, laughing as they both blocked and swung, keeping all hands and feet at a distance. But soon the sheer numbers put them under pressure and they both began to fight, careful to keep their backs to each other so neither could be taken by surprise. 

But then Elreth took an unseen elbow with an audible, "Oof!" and Aaryn flinched.

He called the switch and they turned, Elreth keeping her elbow tucked in to protect the rib that she prayed wasn't cracked, while Aaryn's scent spiked in anger.

The Rite was supposed to be a struggle, but only as a chance for the Pair to demonstrate tenacity, not to injure.

"Who harmed my mate?" he snarled.

"No one seeks to harm her," a familiar male voice snapped back. "But you put her in a position for battle, you have to be able to protect her."

Elreth's anger rose. Tarkyn was making a point, she knew. He didn't hold prejudice for the disformed, but he would hold any mate of hers to high standards for her safety. But she also knew how Aaryn would hear the accusation. 

"I'm fine!" she barked between blocks as three hands came at her at once. 

"No, you aren't!" Aaryn and Tarkyn both growled back at the same time. 

If she hadn't been busy defending herself, she would have rolled her eyes. But she barely caught a clawed hand as one of the females swiped for her face. She growled.

She'd been at a few of the mating Rites. This attack was far too strong. Some were using it to vent frustration—or in an attempt to make a point. 

"Aaryn," she said quietly, "I say, no mercy. Let's show them what we can do."

"Everything?" he asked quietly, grunting between kicks and blocks. "It's a risk."

"Everything," she affirmed. "Don't hold back."

She felt him shift, smelled his scent spike, and her heart flipped as he snarled and unleashed his Alpha—the waves of power, strength, and self that still stole her breath. And not just hers—with pride she watched as the weaker nearby all shuddered to a halt, compelled to submit. While others staggered, fighting the urge, their faces wide with shock.

None of them would soon forget his strength. 

Grinning, Elreth did the same, letting herself feel her own power, her ownership of this land, these people, the confidence of her throne.

Then she dove into the fray.

Back to back, they fought, teeth bared and growling, but their challengers fell away one by one as they each caught scent of two alphas, matched in power and determination, different in their strengths, but equally certain and sure.

Elreth laughed as the space in front of her began to clear as, one by one, the people stepped back, dropped their heads, and submitted. She could smell Aaryn's amusement, though he seemed to have a greater number of challengers.

Finally, the last of Elreth's attackers stepped back, kneeling to submit, and she cackled, turning to help Aaryn—but finding him battling only one final fighter.

Tarkyn.

Elreth sucked in as the two faced each other, arms whipping and thrusting, legs kicking, each twisting and dodging to avoid the other's blows. 

And she realized she wasn't the only one taken with the beauty of these two males—one taller, the other broader, both fighting with teeth bared. She wanted to jump in and help Aaryn end it so they could finally get out of here, but she sensed—and was sure he did as well—that this was a conflict that needed to occur. That Tarkyn wouldn't submit to Aaryn until her mate had proven his strength.

So, with the rest of the people, she held back, watching the two dance, but she hung behind Aaryn, poised, on the balls of her feet, in case she was needed.

She wasn't, but her nerves rose. What would happen if these two determined to actually harm each other? Or if Tarkyn won?

Aaryn was an incredibly skilled fighter and had trained with her father even more than she had in recent years. But Tarkyn had been fighting as long as they'd both been alive. His experience would give him the edge. Would he actually beat the future King-Regent? Or would he submit?

Elreth held her breath. 

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