206 Draw the Line
~ TARKYN ~
Tarkyn found her in a cluster of females near the tent the Alphas were using as a central hub. She stood in a huddle listening intently to another female whose face was unremarkable, but sothing in her spoke of strength and the kind of unsinkable nature that Tarkyn looked for in leaders.
In any other circumstances he might have stood back and taken ti to observe, but there was no ti. No ti at all.
The guards—who’d given him more space as he went in search of Harth—spread wide, not interfering as Tarkyn approached his mate and tugged at her sleeve.
She turned, her eyes widening, then bead a smile. “Tarkyn! I’m so glad you—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt but I need you.”
Harth blinked, her smile faltering, then she nodded. “Yes, yes, sure. Just… Tarkyn this is Mae. I think I told you—”
Tarkyn nodded at the female quickly, sothing in the back of his head niggling on that na. Harth had ntioned her… sothing to do with the human prison.
“It’s very good to et you, Mae. I’m very sorry—”
.....
“It’s fine,” Mae said, her eyes wary on him, but not unfriendly. “We were all glad to hear that Harth had found her mate.”
Broad smiles rose around the little handful of females. Had there been more ti, Tarkyn would have fussed over his mate, given her reason to blush in front of her friends, but there was no ti. They had no ti!
“I… thank you all for being alongside Harth until we found each other. I’m grateful. And very sorry, but I have to steal her—”
The females smiled and chuckled, urging him to take her, closing ranks in their little huddle as soon as Harth stepped away. Tarkyn cupped her elbow and led her quickly away.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked in his mind, her tone nervous. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing—at least, nothing new. Except… I have more clarity, Harth. And I need to talk with you.’
He was rushing her through the tent village, towards the wood on the other side where the cave squatted that they’d been assigned. He swept up a waterskin on the way, eyeing the guards who were being kind, walking rows away from them to give them space. The one he would have called a sergeant caught his eye, but only smiled. Tarkyn nodded his gratitude. The male winked, but Tarkyn didn’t smile in return. His heart was too desperate. Too dark.
The mont they made it to the cave, he released Harth’s arm, but only until they reached the back of the dark space.
“Tarkyn, what—”
“Let speak,” he whispered. Tucking the waterskin under his elbow, he was already reaching for her buttons, his fingers trembling. She let him—even reached for his, but her forehead was furrowed, her face pinched with worry.
Tarkyn swallowed hard, praying she wouldn’t interrupt him. He feared he might break down if she did, and he wanted to show her his strength this morning, not his weakness.
But before he did, it was crucial—imperative—that he remind her of his commitnt. If he were to die today, or be separated from her, he needed her to rember.
“Harth,” he whispered, his voice shaking. Her grip tightened on the buttons of his shirt.
“Tarkyn, please, what’s—”
“Love, you are my True Heart’s Call, the one the Creator chose for ,” he rasped then pulled the cork on the waterskin, turning it to splash over his palm—first one, then the other. Harth’s eyes widened and she went still. “We belong together,” he croaked. “Tied together by the One True God, who bonds us in water to cleanse. And by that bond, I vow to you that I will never see your sin. When your heart is dark, when life soils you, you need only co to , and in my eyes you will always be clean.”
“Tarkyn,” she breathed, her eyes welling. She cupped a hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down to lean his forehead on hers, staring at him as he kept his gaze on his hands, his voice hushed and shaking.
Then he tossed the waterskin aside and turned his hand palm up. They both looked at it, at the healed but still reddened skin of the scar on his palm. He took her free hand and used her finger to trace the line he’d cut there when they were alone in the disford cave and he’d given this vow the first ti. “We belong together, bonded by blood,” he rasped. Then he turned her hand over and traced the matching line on her palm with a tiny, choked sob.
“We belong together, bonded by the One True God, who takes my heart and yours, and mingles them.” He took her scarred hand in his, clasping them as soldiers would, his forehead still pressed against her. “And by that bond I vow to you that I will shed my blood for you to show my heart true. When danger shadows you, I will put myself, body and soul, in its path to protect you.”
Her smaller hand tightened so hard on his, the bones in his hand pressed against each other. He welcod the pain of it, felt her feeling him. Felt her overwheld with love—and reflected it back to her.
Then he buried his other hand in her hair and lifted his eyes to et hers, so closely that they couldn’t focus, but he couldn’t bring himself to put space between them.
His voice barely shook as he completed the vow. “We belong together, bound by the One True God, who gives us to each other, tested by fire, but tested to heal.” He hesitated, but she had to know. “Tested by fire, Harth. Tested, and refined.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers tightening in her hair as he demanded control from himself. “I… I will walk through any fire He presents for you, Harth,” he whispered fiercely. “And by that bond I vow to you that I will endure any wound to hold you, and hold safe any wound you earn on my behalf. Where you are hurt, I will soothe. Where you break, I will be your strength. I will hold the fire to heal, or give myself to it to save you, until my last breath.”
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