Taming the Queen of Beasts

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*****

<strong>RIKA</strong>

She struggled to hear every word that was spoken, but the bird that called the accusation was close enough that Rika knew exactly what he'd said.

And she saw Gar tense. And she knew it was because of her.

Watching him freeze, then his jaw went so tight those tendons on his neck stood out, and Rika was washed in the strangest combination of fear—her father's anger had always been clear from the veins on his forehead and the tendons in his neck—and compassion. Because he was spluttering and frozen, his confidence shaken. Not because he was wrong, but because he knew he needed to protect her—and he was afraid for her. Afraid of getting it wrong.

She kept making him afraid. She hated herself for it.

Rika barely breathed. She knew the answer to this. Knew how to answer it. Knew she could save him from the fear, and from the challenge. But that meant putting herself in front of this entire population of people.

While Gar spluttered and raged and tried to find the right thought, the way to turn this conversation, Rika's knees began to shake as she scanned the entire bowl of the earth full of all these people. Tense people. Angry people. Uncertain people.

She shook and gripped the fork of the tree she stood in, where Gar had boosted her so she could watch. She didn't want to leave. She didn't want to make them see her—what if they were angry that she was there?

But then she looked at Gar and his eyes locked on hers for half a breath before he turned away, not wanting to draw attention to her. But the yearning in that gaze…

Rika didn't let herself think.

She dropped out of the tree, her feet hitting the dirt, then sliding out from under her so she landed on her ass with a thump and a scuff, and a very unladylike squawk of pain.

None of the Anima were close, but they were close enough to hear her land. And those nearest turned, their eyes wide when they found her.

She should have thought this through. Chaos erupted in the bowl as the Anima in front of her raised cries of "Human! There's a human!" then thundered towards her.

Rika screamed and covered her head with her hands, curling into a ball, waiting for the blows to land.

But twin roars shook the ground and the thundering of feet stopped, though the babble of voices didn't.

"Rika, Rika, it's okay. I've got you."

His voice was so similar to Gar's, for a moment Rika relaxed, thinking Gar had arrived so quickly he must have shifted. But when she opened her eyes and raised her head, it was his father—his huge, intimidating father that stood over her, one hand extended, and kindness on his face.

Behind him the voices rose and began to argue, and there was a disturbance within the crowd, but a feminine voice rose above the others and called for quiet as Rika sucked in a breath.

Reth, Gar's father, knelt to make himself smaller, his hand still extended. "I'll take you down to him," he said quietly. "I won't let them touch you."

She blinked, her heart hammering in her chest.

But this was it, she realized. If she was ever going to be a part of these people, a part of this family, she had to take this risk.

She wanted to weep. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But she forced herself to reach out for his hand—thicker than Gar's, but not as calloused—and used the leverage to get to her feet.

Reth stood, looming over her, but she was grateful that he gave her a little bit of space.

He turned to face the crowd, his features dark. "Let her through. She brings an answer to the challenge," he rumbled, and the crowd fluttered in a combination of protests and celebrations.

Holy shirtballs.

Then, as she stumbled forward next to Reth, head screaming at her to flee, Gar appeared, panting, his eyes wide. He scrambled to a halt a couple feet away and stared at her.

"Rika, what—are you—?"

"I kn-know the answer," she whispered to him, even though she knew these people could all hear her anyway. "I just…"

"I know, I know," he breathed. Then he put himself on her other side, so she was ushered through the crowd by these two massive males, who met eyes over her head and something really beautiful passed between them. Something that made Rika's throat pinch, but she couldn't give it her attention just then, because she was too busy making sure she could still breath as her hands shook and her pulse thundered in her ears.

When they reached the bottom of the bowl the crowd behind them began to call for answers—why had their Rite been violated by a human?

Elreth stood at the bottom, her arms folded, glaring at Gar.

"What the fuck, Gar?" she hissed as they reached her.

"She was only going to watch, but—d"

"I have the answer," she made herself say to the woman, whose fiery hair fluttered as her even hotter gaze snapped to Rika's face.

"You… you have an answer for the Rite?" she said, her jaw tight. Obviously struggling to believe it.

"Yes. I can… I can prove that the disformed aren't human," she said. "And that they weren't working with us."

Elreth's brows rose. "To do that you'll have to tell them who you were working for."

Rika swallowed a whimper. She hadn't thought about that. But it was too late now. It wasn't like she could run at this point. They'd just chase her and…

A vision flashed through her head of herself running through that clearing, back towards the forest, pursued by this crowd of huge, strong Anima and her face crumpled.

Gar put a hand to the small of her back and leaned into her ear. "Rika, you don't have to… I can tell them—" And then she almost wept because even in her terror, she could hear how his voice was high and strangled in fear. How terrified he was that she was going to freak out again and leave him. She recognized the tone and tension she'd always had in relationships before, when things started to go downhill. And she hated that she'd done that to him.

Biting her lip she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Just hold my hand," she whispered. "Just… help me."

Gar nodded, then looked up at his sister and father, then back down at her.

Rika swallowed and blew out a breath, then turned around to face the crowd.

They'd edged in, right up to the rim of the bowl and she felt like they were walls closing in. But gripping Gar's hand that slid into hers, his thick fingers and arm feeling like the tree branch she'd been clinging to just minutes earlier, she raised her chin and swallowed back the nausea, making her voice as loud as she could.

"If someone will… scent me… for truth… I can answer the challenge," she said.

Shock and indignation rippled through the crowd. But Gar's fingers tightened on hers.