Falling In Love With The King Of Beasts

Chapter 167: Perfect Promises

RETH

The night was surreal. Reth danced with Elia, he danced with Aymora, he sat with Elia—even pulling her onto his lap at one point late in the night, though she went beet-red and struggled to get off almost immediately. The Leonine greeted her as one of them, though she didn't always recognize the signs, and Reth made a mental note to let her know the very subtle signs the Leonine used to communicate in mixed tribes.

He watched Elia glow. She was so happy—so happy it brought her to tears more than once, which made his own throat pinch. And his body ache.

He longed to hold her, to whisper to her, to comfort and encourage her, and to bring her close, as close as they could be. He yearned for it. He always yearned for her, in truth. But since he'd seen her in that dress that afternoon he'd been able to think of nothing except to get her out of it. More than once that'd evening he'd had to shift himself to hide his arousal.

The one time Elia had noticed—while they were dancing—she'd teased him mercilessly, and threatened to make it worse with her wicked smile and trapping her tongue between her teeth.

They'd spent the last hour catching each other's eyes over the heads, or behind the backs of others, letting hands trail along limbs as they passed, letting gazes linger… until Reth's stomach tugged at him.

So, it was with great relief when Reth looked up from their seats on the stage and realized that most of the people had finally taken their young, or their mates, and gone home to bed.

Stumbled, more likely.

Reth had been careful to avoid the wine, wanting nothing to stand between he and Elia tonight. But he'd heard that she'd chosen well, and that the people had thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

She was seated next to him now, her chair turned around to speak with Aymora and Gahrye—the male was growing on Reth—while many others crowded around them on the stage. But when Behryn told him he'd be off to check on a few things with the wolves they'd seen leave the market, Reth took the break in conversation to lean into Elia's ear and whisper, "I told the guards not to follow us if we left the path tonight. I have a little clearing I'd like to show you. Quietly."

Her scent immediately spiked and she whipped her head around to meet his eyes. He smiled and she was on her feet. "I am so tired!" she exclaimed, stretching and pretending to yawn—unfortunately, right in front of his seated face, which put her breasts, swathed in layers of that almost-sheer fabric that looked like you could see through it, even when you couldn't—right at eyeline.

As he felt his body tighten he stood quickly, pulling Elia into him and kissing her so that everyone began to shoo them away—as he'd known they would.

Traditionally, if she'd given her throat at a public meeting or normal gathering, they would have been expected to leave right away. But under the circumstances, he'd held himself back.

Brant had laughed every time he'd caught sight of Reth's tortured gaze.

It took only a minute to farewell everyone, thank them for their help that evening, and for Elia to grasp his hand and begin to tug him down the stairs to the floor of the market, weaving between the tables to one of the covered walkways that led to the space.

She checked over her should several times before they reached the edge of the market and the spot where the paths met, where the night lanterns glowed, but their light only cast in cones and many dark shadows would appear to her human sight, to hide them.

He was about to warn her that the Anima could still see easily in these spaces, when she shoved him against a tree and took his mouth her hands in his hair, and her breath already fast.

"Reth!" she gasped. "I have been waiting!"

"Creator's Light, me too!" he whispered back, gripping her hips to pull her into him.

They both groaned.

There was a light chuckle from the dark and Elia froze, pulling away slowly to stare at Reth.

"I, uh, was going to warn you—"

"You said you told them not to follow!"

"No, I told them that when we were walking back to the cave, if we went off the trail, they weren't to follow." He cleared his throat. "They're still waiting for us now and will… accompany us until we… detour."

Even in the dark he could see the blush rising on her cheeks. He cupped her face and leaned down. "Do not worry, they do not judge. They're only jealous I have such a beautiful and passionate mate," he whispered in her ear.

She snorted and was about to answer when Behryn's voice rose from a few feet away. "Reth, I'm sorry, but I need you for a moment before you go."

Like a child deprived of a toy, Elia threw her hands up and groaned. "Seriously? Tonight, Behryn?!"

He appeared from the market behind her, his eyes fixed on Reth for a moment in a look that made Reth's stomach clench. "Only for a few minutes, I promise, my Queen."

"Please, you've seen me naked. I think you can call me Elia tonight, Behryn—"

"What?" Reth bit the word off and took the step to close the space between he and Elia.

Behryn's lips thinned. "She means the night we interrupted you. She still hasn't gotten over it," he said darkly.

She was about to make a quip in return, but Reth growled. "You have three minutes, Behryn. I have waited hours to have my mate and you will not steal it from me this time."

Elia squeaked and dived behind him to put him between herself and Behryn, her face flaming, but the two men ignored her embarrassment.

"What is it?" Reth asked quietly.

"The wolves, of course," Behryn said with a glance behind him. "I don't like what I'm reading on the wind. I suspect there is something afoot—or there will be. They do not like what they saw tonight."

"They do not like a Queen accepted by her people?"

"No."

Reth growled.

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