Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rhydek
Everything inside me was confusing, so I did what I always had and focused on something else.
There were more issues than usual to face at the council meeting, and it went on longer than expected.
On top of that, I felt Taryn’s trepidation, and then her eventual boredom invading my chest. I knew she felt out of place, she couldn’t even understand what was being said around her, and the way her discomfort bothered me was distracting.
I hadn’t planned for this.
She shifted on my thigh, letting out a little sigh. She blinked as if she were sleepy, and the desire to carry her to bed was so strong I almost stood in the middle of Veyrad giving his report on the supplies for the warships.
I tried to focus but was distracted when Taryn shifted again. When she moved her thigh it brushed against my shaft, making it harder to ignore the straining length trapped inside my pants.
I’d have rather had it trapped inside her, but even that desire irritated me.
A pause in conversation told me I’d missed something, and when I glanced around the table, everyone was staring at me.
Waiting.
Trying to keep my kethra from flaring, I stared back at Veyrad.
“Repeat the question.”
The way his pupils narrowed showed his irritation even though he controlled his kethra better than I had. He repeated the question and I guessed at what he’d said prior, giving a vague response so they didn’t realize how little I had been listening.
All because of the female in my lap, lush curves pressed against me but still too far away.
My tail was lashing by the time the meeting was over. I stood and tugged Taryn from the room before anyone could stop us, leading her to one of the stairways to the surface. We both had our thavren with us so I could go straight to the training grounds, but I paused before we climbed the steps.
“You have to do better during the meetings. Your fidgeting distracted me. I shouldn’t have to ask others to repeat themselves.”
My voice came out rough, a growl lacing the words as I blamed her for my inability to focus.
If it wasn’t for her, there wouldn’t have been anything to distract me.
But it was my fault she was there.
Guilt surged inside her before it twisted into anger even though she kept her face clear of both. The fact that she suppressed the feelings only irritated me more. She had every right to be mad at me.
“I’ll try.”
It was a diplomatic answer. She didn’t accept blame or try to redirect it where it belonged. She didn’t call me on my distraction being my own fault. She didn’t cave and cry over my harsh tone.
She just accepted it.
Which made me feel worse.
I turned and started up the stairs before I could say anything else, forcing her to follow or be left behind. Her shorter stride meant she had to work for it, her breaths coming faster by the time we reached the surface.
The heat and wind struck as soon as we left the arch, dry and oppressive beneath Vorrashan’s light, but I welcomed it. The heat, I understood, emotions… I did not.
I led Taryn across the sand toward the training grounds, forcing my focus forward. The rhythmic clash of bodies, the grunt of exertion, the sharp bark of commands, all should have been enough to drown everything else out. It always had been before.
“Stay here.”
I gestured to the same shaded edge of the arena where she’d sat each time she’d come with me. She nodded without argument, settling where I indicated, her gaze already moving over the warriors.
Part of me bristled over her looking at other alphas, but I could feel there was no interest in her attention. She only looked so she would have something to do other than stare at her hands as she waited.
I turned away, swallowing my snarl, and strode into the center of the field.
“Form up.”
My voice cracked like a whip through the dry air and the warriors snapped into position. Sweat already slicked their skin from earlier drills, their muscles loose and ready.
That was good for them, because I was in no mood to go easy.
“Pair off. Full contact. Tail focus.”
There were no questions or hesitation. They knew better, and they could guess my mood from my tone.
I stepped into the first match without waiting, choosing one of the experienced warriors who I had berated for his tail use before.
He came at me fast and I welcomed the way it forced me to focus.
The impact of his strike reverberated through my arm as I blocked, pivoting and driving my elbow into his ribs as our tails darted to land hits against soft spots.
He grunted, recovering quickly, countering with a low sweep that I barely avoided.
The fight demanded my attention, and I was finally able to put Taryn from my mind. I drove forward harder, faster, forcing the other warrior back and throwing myself into the fight until there was nothing but motion and instinct and the satisfying burn of exertion.
When he faltered I chose another, and then another. For a time, it worked. The constant pull in my chest faded to the edges of my awareness. Her emotions through the bond dimmed beneath the rhythm of combat, the controlled violence grounding me in something familiar and predictable.
Something safe that I understood.
I struck, sending my opponent stumbling back, chest heaving as I reset my stance, but something tugged at the edges of my mind. Something was missing, wrong, and the distraction allowed my opponent to land a blow to my knee that sent me sprawling.
Lifting my head, I locked eyes with blue ones gone round, surprise written across her face, but there was nothing leaking into my chest.
Nothing.
The awareness of her that had been constant since her heat was muted to the point that it was almost gone.
My chest tightened as I stared at her, and then the outrage broke through. The warrior who had downed me hesitated, confusion flashing across his features when I didn’t rise to face him, but he was no longer a concern.
The empty hole in my chest had stolen my focus, and nothing else mattered more than fixing it.
“Kai!”
The word tore from my throat as I lurched to my feet. The warriors around me froze, staring, but I didn’t care.
I stomped towards the edge of the arena. Toward her. She sat exactly where I had left her, posture straight, attention fixed on my approach as if she were surprised by my actions.
My tail lashed behind me, kethra blazing yellow in violent pulses.
She had blocked our bond.
Fury burned beneath my skin, the thought lodged in my mind. Warriors parted before me, instinctively giving way.
“Taryn.”
I growled her name when I reached her, lunging forward to slam my fists into the stone on each side of her thighs. She had to lean back as I invaded her space, eyes wide with shock, a hint of trepidation in her expression.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
I snarled the words in her face, watching her brows draw together, confusion flashing in her eyes
“I… Nothing.”
A lie.
There was no way to accidentally block a bond. It was a conscious choice that took effort and usually practice.
My claws scraped the stone, the rage inside me pounding at my end of the bond, trying to get through and show her what she had done to me.
“The bond, Taryn.”
The words came out rough, edged with something far too close to panic beneath the anger. If anyone found out she was blocking our bond they would think I was a bad mate. A bad alpha.
Was I?
“You blocked it.”
Realization flickered across her features at my hiss before switching back to confusion. I felt a crack open in my chest, the tiniest hint of unease slipping through to me.
“I—I didn’t want to distract you again. You were already upset I’d been bored at the meeting, and I thought—”
“You thought you could shut me out?”
I was trying to keep my voice down, but it was a struggle. The idea that she wanted to hide from me was unacceptable. She was mine, my responsibility, and that included being aware of her moods. If she was bored, or uncomfortable, I needed to know before it could get worse.
“Rhydek, I was trying to help.”
Frustration bled into her tone and through the crack in the bond, but she wasn’t the only one producing it.
My growl compressed the air between us, almost a visible shiver.
“You do not decide what to share with me. We are bound, our eth tied, and we will share it all. The good and the bad.”
The silence around us was heavy. I was dimly aware of the warriors watching, of the way there seemed to be a sense of expectation hovering over where I caged Taryn in with my body, and I tried to reign myself in.
Until she lifted her chin, kethra flaring as yellow as mine as her eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t think it would matter. You complained, so I fixed it.”
Everything stilled.
My heart, the wind, even the heat paused.
It mattered.
The absence of her in my chest had been wrong, like a limb torn away. Even after such a short period, the thought of losing my bond with her was intolerable.
My hands moved, sliding from the stone to her waist, tugging her against me as I straightened. Her breathing hitched, eyes rounding again as her lips popped open.
“It is not your job to fix it. It is mine. And I can’t do my job if you block me. How would I know if you were in danger?”
The words came out low and controlled, and I felt another flutter of uncertainty from her. Blue eyes searched mine, but she didn’t pull away as I removed her thavren from her head.
Pushing my emotions at her, I forced open the crack in the bond. I sent her all my anger, and worry, and fear. The guilt, and need, and desire followed, all tangled together in an inseparable mass.
Her feelings flooded back to me, subdued, but present.
Confusion. Irritation.
Want.
“There is no part of you that is not mine, even the deep ugly things, and no part you are allowed to hide.”
Her chest rose and fell against mine, her body trembling as it responded even if her mind hadn’t caught up.
“Then it’s the same for you. Don’t hide from me.”