Page 34 of Tomlin

“No.” A flash of sharp fangs. “But I can maintain the same pace.”

“Very well. I am returning immediately.”

Seren retrieved a small leather bag from the bushes beneath the rock ledge and slung it over his shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

Tomlin remounted and they set off, Seren in an easy lope that matched the horse’s pace. The horse shied away nervously for the first few miles but eventually settled down.

“What happened with Finnar?” he asked as they reached the foothills, and Seren sighed.

“Finnar never liked humans - most Vultori don’t - but then they attacked his family. He lost them all in a senseless act of violence.”

His chest tightened in unwilling sympathy. The pain of loss was something he knew all too well.

“He’s been carrying this burden for several years,” Seren continued, his voice heavy with regret. “I thought time might heal the wound, but it only seemed to fester.”

Images flashed through his mind - his mother’s gentle smile, fading away as she succumbed to illness; the cold eyes of his relatives as they cast him out; Grethel’s lifeless body, a stark reminder that he was alone once more. Each loss had carved a piece from his soul, leaving him raw and vulnerable. He remembered how his Krythian side had demanded release.

“I understand,” he said softly, surprising himself with the admission. “Grief can twist a person, make them capable of things they never thought possible.”

Seren looked over at him, a wealth of understanding in his eyes.

“You speak from experience.”

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway.

“I’ve lost people too. There were times when I…” He trailed off, unable to voice the darkness that had consumed him in those moments.

“It is not easy having two sides, frequently at odds.”

“Exactly.” His jaw clenched as he thought about those battles with himself. “There were times when I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside.”

“It’s the same for us. We’re constantly balancing different forms, different instincts.”

He’d never thought another would understand his conflict so well.

“And yet, you found a way to move forward,” Seren added softly.

“It’s not easy,” he said. “But it’s possible. I forged a life for myself. A good life, but… incomplete. Until I found my mate.”

“Having a mate helps,” the other male agreed, the longing on his face impossible to miss. “In our case, it is often the only thing that allows us to retain control over our more savage impulses. I sometimes wonder how I have survived so long without one.”

That too he understood. He’d wondered if he would have been able to overcome this last threat to his control without her.

“To have someone who understands both sides of your nature, who accepts you completely… it’s a rare and precious thing.” Seren added.

He nodded, thinking of Etta’s unwavering trust in him.

“It is,” he agreed softly.

Then his heart lurched in his chest as a sudden wave of fear washed over him. It wasn’t his own emotion, but Etta’s, transmitted through the bond between them.

“My mate is in danger,” he growled, spurring his horse into a gallop.

He heard Seren calling after him, but the words were lost in the rush of wind and his own ragged breathing. Nothing mattered except getting to Etta. Her fear pulsed through him, urging him forward with desperate intensity. He’d only just found her, had only just allowed himself to love her. The thought of losing her now was unbearable.

His control began to slip. His claws emerged, digging into the soft leather of the saddle as he urged the horse ever faster. He could feel the animal’s fear as he raced headlong across the plains, but there was nothing he could do. For once he made no attempt to fight his Krythian side. Instead he embraced the surge of power, preparing to defend his mate to his last dying breath.

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