Chapter Thirty
Rhydek
I should not have been thinking about leaving her alone.
The thought lodged itself in my mind during the second council meeting, persistent despite being unwelcome and refusing to be shaken loose no matter how I tried to focus on the discussion at hand.
Taryn sat on my leg, quieter than she had been right after her heat. She no longer shifted restlessly or sighed under her breath. She held herself still, leaning against my chest, her hands folded in her lap as if she had trained herself to endure the experience.
It should have pleased me. Instead, it was unsettling.
I could still feel her. The bond showed every flicker of emotion she tried to suppress. Her effort to remain composed only made it clearer how much she hated being there.
The boredom dragged at me like a weight, heavy and dull, but beneath it I could feel more.
Frustration.
Not at me, at herself. This was a waste of time she’d rather spend doing something useful, and I couldn’t fault her for the feeling when I spent most meetings battling the same.
A Torashkar was only useful when there were battles to fight, and while our ships had finally moved to take out the Skarashk threat near the Human’s colony, Kael was in charge of that.
My jaw tightened as Veyrad spoke across the table, outlining supply movements I had heard variations of a dozen times before. I forced myself to listen, to follow the details, but my attention kept drifting back to the female in my lap.
She was trying. She was doing her best to accept my world and adapt to her new life here. To sit through discussions she couldn’t participate in, surrounded by people who spoke a foreign language, because she believed it was expected of her.
Because she believed it mattered to me.
Her request to buy things for our home had done something to me. It had been the first time she’d shown any sign of accepting her place here, and knowing that she was viewing it as ours, and was willing to expand her nesting beyond the bed, had made me want to claim her again.
My kethra flickered, a faint pulse of yellow before I forced it back to orange.
My thoughts drifted again as the discussion switched to trade.
Taryn’s place was not at a stone table listening to people speak around her. Serenya seemed content curled in Kael’s arms, but she occasionally had input on matters of the alliance and could mostly understand what was being said.
Taryn’s place was in the kennels where her mind was engaged in a way I could feel even through the bond. She wanted to be with the varkuun.
With Zharrek.
My fingers curled against the arm of my chair as the image of her standing just beyond the bars, speaking to the beast as if it were something other than a creature bred for war, played in my mind. The way he responded to her… it defied everything I knew about the creatures.
He should have wanted to tear her apart. Or at least seem reluctant. Instead, he listened, obeying everything she asked of him, even when she tried something new or didn’t know the right words to use. He was eager to see her, greeting her the way he would a packmate if he were wild.
The idea of her working with him still sent a ripple of unease through me, but it wasn’t because of her. She’d proven her competence. She’d earned respect from the other handlers and even Dorash.
I didn’t like it, because I didn’t like what everything pointed to.
“…Torashkar?”
The word cut through my thoughts, and when I lifted my gaze, I found all eyes on me. I had missed something.
Again.
If Rath had been there he’d have challenged me to a Ravak’torr unless he’d learned a lesson from Kael. Suppressing a growl, I forced my expression into neutrality as I focused on the speaker.
“I’m sorry.”
There was a pause before what I’d missed was repeated. The others seemed surprised by the apology, but I answered the question, my voice steady even as irritation simmered beneath the surface.
This was unacceptable. I had never been so distracted I couldn’t keep track of the conversation before. Not like this.
And I couldn’t blame Taryn. My lack of focus was my own problem, even if it was caused by her presence. She pulled at me without realizing it, tugging my focus away from matters that should have taken priority.
And I didn’t like losing control.
The meeting dragged on longer than necessary before it finally ended.
I rose, my hand closed around Taryn’s to guide her from the chamber before anyone could attempt to engage me further.
I’d seen Kael’s looks, Teylan’s concern, and I didn’t want to give them the opportunity to ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
The moment we stepped into the corridor, the tension in my shoulders eased and Taryn exhaled beside me, a quiet sound of relief she likely thought I wouldn’t notice.
I didn’t like making her suffer through the meetings and training, but the bond still made it uncomfortable to separate.
That would lessen with time, but even being on the opposite side of the training field made my chest tight and my stomach churn.
“I appreciate your effort not to be a distraction.”
I winced as soon as I said the words. They weren’t right, but I couldn’t voice what I’d been thinking.
Taryn blinked up at me, brow arching as she huffed.
“I sat still and remained silent. High standards.”
My lips twitched despite myself, and my tail flicked the back of her thighs. Her mouth popped open as her eyes rounded in shock, but she didn’t protest the playful touch.
“You showed restraint, even if I still couldn’t pay attention to their droning.”
Her lips stretched into a smile and the urge to lean down and taste them almost stopped me in my tracks.
That, too, was new. I’d been intrigued by her before, drawn to her, but now I wanted her constantly. Even when I was engaged in training, it was like there was a physical rope around me, pulling me towards her so I could feel her softness, hear her breathy moans, and drink her sweet slick.
We moved to the stairwell, the familiar path to the surface leading us onward. The climb was easier for her now, her breathing remaining even, and she hardly slowed.
She was strong. Healthy.
I eyed her body, trying to keep my thoughts focused.
Her legs looked leaner, her face less rounded, and I frowned as I realized it might be my fault.
We always ate a light midday meal with the warriors, but I’d never considered that she might need more than two meals a day.
She ate less than I did at meals, but it hadn’t hit me that she should eat more often.
Another failure I needed to correct.
By the time we reached the training grounds, Vorrashan had risen high enough to bathe the sand and walls in harsh light. Heat pressed against us from above and below, but it was nothing unusual.
Not for me.
Taryn adjusted her thavren, her movements confident after continued practice. I almost missed having the excuse to be close to her and run my fingers over her pale hair, but being able to wrap it herself was essential for survival.
She followed me without complaint as I crossed to the gates and then onto the field, warriors already running through exercises.
The younger warriors, those seeking rank, rose before Vorrashan to begin training, while the experienced came and went as other duties allowed.
Practice was expected, but some Morraki chose other paths than being a warrior and didn’t spend as much time on it as others.
Attention shifted to us as we passed but the warriors were disciplined enough to know to keep training. Those leading the drills nodded to me and stepped into place with the others, giving me command.
I moved among them as Taryn took her place in the shade. I corrected stances, engaged when necessary, and pushed them to work harder. It was what I did, leading by example. I had always needed the distraction.
But I was learning that they managed perfectly fine without me. If I had to leave with Kael or tend Taryn through her heat, their training went on without me.
I was proud of that, even if it stung a little.
The rhythm of combat was familiar, helping me ground myself in the present. The sounds and scents of exertion, the sharp clarity of facing an opponent… all of it pulled me back into myself.
Until I spotted Taryn sitting on her own, the bond carefully neutral, as if she were concentrating on keeping her mind blank so I didn’t feel how much she hated it.
My jaw clenched as I struck one of the warriors with a series of controlled blows.
I needed to focus, he was failing at defense, but knowing she was there when she wanted to be elsewhere, prevented it.
I understood the drive to be useful, the need to have a purpose, but I was forcing her to wait around as if my duties were more important.
Everyone knew it took each person working together for the good of the clan. A warrior was not more important than someone who tended the herds or the fungus gardens. All were needed, and I didn’t want Taryn to feel useless.
The next blow I delivered landed harder than intended. The warrior grunted, staggering before catching himself, his kethra flaring in response. I stepped back, forcing myself to rein it in before I lost all control.
I finished the session sooner than planned, handing the remainder of the drills over to the senior warriors. They knew better than to say anything, but I could see that it had become expected.
Did they resent that I was spending less time on the training field?
Were they thinking of challenging me?
Would they blame Taryn if something happened?
There were no hints that any of my questions were true, but an experienced warrior wouldn’t show his feelings. We already knew there were those who weren’t happy over the alliance with Humans, but I had no way of knowing if my actions would make that worse.