Chapter 201: Torn Apart

ELIA

Elia's head whiplashed as Aymora yanked her back and away. Gahrye stayed, positioning himself between her and those fighting until Behryn and the others rushed over, circling her. As she struggled against Aymora's grip on her arms, Behryn said something quiet to Gahrye who nodded. Behryn clapped him on the arm, then nodded back to Elia, and Gahrye came to stand in front of her.

"Elia, stop, please. You can't… we can't let you get over there. It's too risky for you. For both of you," he emphasized, his face serious and dark.

A horrendous snapping snarl rose from behind him and Elia pulled against Aymora again, straining to see around him. "Behryn, you can't leave him to fight them alone! He's exhausted!"

"That's not his order!" Behryn snapped, but he never took his eyes off Reth, his mouth turned down and jaw twitching with tension. He and the other guards had their spears out.

Reth hadn't shifted to beast, and neither had the wolves. It was hand-to-hand combat, but Reth was outnumbered, and by two who were accustomed to fighting as a team.

Brant, who had helped the guards get Elia away, bellowed, "CEASE!" and stormed back across the stage. But even though Reth snarled and tried to shove Lerrin off of him, Lucine didn't let up and he was forced to keep fighting or be overwhelmed.

The people cheered, and growled, and called, calling as if the fight were a sporting match and Elia's heart broke.

"Go to him, Behryn! Help him!"

Behryn looked at Brant, who'd turned at Elia's cry. The two stared for a moment, then Brant nodded and Behryn stepped out of the circle of men around Elia. They closed ranks immediately, filling the space, spears pointing out. Elia stopped fighting, but was still leaning, trying to see around the men.

She could see a tumble of bodies, hear Reth's familiar growl, but raised to an horrific noise that she could hear even over the screaming crowd.

The crowd.

The people.

Elia's face dropped as she turned to see them—watch them encourage the fighters. Though some—mainly the older Anima, she noticed—shook their heads or watched intent, but quiet, most of the Anima cheered them on. She couldn't hear what they said, or who they called for, but it was pretty clear.

She saw wolves, serpents, goats, and even a few birds, screaming, their eyes angry and fists clenched.

The others all seemed worried, or cried Reth's name over and over.

"Gahrye," she breathed. The stage was so loud, she didn't know how he heard her, but he did, turning and dropping his ear close to her, while still watching Reth and the wolves. "The people," she said. "Who are they cheering for?"

Gahrye's shoulders sagged. "Both. They… there is support for both," he said, then looked at her, grief in his eyes.

Elia swore. The Tribes… the tribes were split, she realized.

She hadn't won them. And Reth hadn't convinced enough of them. Their animal natures were coming to the surface, yearning for dominance over reason.

And even though Reth would win, she was sure of it, how many of them would still question him at the end?

"I won't fight," she said, turning her head so Aymora could hear behind her. "I… I'm sorry, I won't fight." She stopped pulling and let Aymora come up next to her. Both of them watching, tight-lipped, as Reth attempted to take down two strong wolves at once.

*****

RETH

The smell of blood hung thick in the air. Reth had to blink to keep his sight clear from the blood dripping out of the gash on his temple.

He yearned to shift, to use teeth and claws, and simply tear these two apart. But he couldn't, he knew. Not like this. Not when Lucine had already been shamed.

So he dodged, and twisted, wrenched limbs, and twisted out of grips as the two feinted, snapped, and whipped around him, attempting to confuse him.

They were brother and sister. They'd fought each other—and with each other—since birth. They knew each other's signals and strengths.

Although stronger, he was also bigger, and had more weight to shift with each attack.

It seemed that each time Reth thwarted one attack, or blocked one blow, the other wolf would come at him from his blindside, or attempt to take his vulnerable archilles—a favorite moves of the wolves to lame their opponent, then toy with them until they decided to kill.

But Reth didn't just fight for his life. He fought for the life of his mate, and their cub. He fought for the people, who clearly had no understanding of what would become of them if the wolves were given power. Their howls, barks, and cries only affirmed for Reth that he had left his people woefully unprepared for the fight they would experience if the wolves were to become dominant.

Their comfort under his rule had made them overly confident. Unquestioning. They'd forgotten, after generations of Leonine Kings, what had happened to Anima in the past under the rule of other tribes.

As his breath began to heave and his bulk slowed, Reth gritted his teeth and roared, before diving at Lerrin.

He had the passing thought that, if they'd been able to harness this ability in the wolves, this gift for an almost psychic link between individuals, the Anima wouldn't just be the strongest species in their world. They could rule any world.

But he didn't have time to think, to prepare anything. He was forced to merely react, always keeping an eye and an ear for what happened at his side, his back.

He did not want to kill in front of the people. But he was fast losing hope that he might win any other way. Lucine was light-bending quick, and Lerrin's strength was even greater than his fathers.

Then Reth misjudged a block, and his hand glanced off of Lerrin's arm. His balance was off for the slightest second, and Lucine growled and leapt in.

He had to make the decision in a heartbeat, and could see no other option.

**** DON'T STOP READING! ****

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