Falling in Love with the King of Beasts

ELIA

They'd told her that after she gave her speech, if it was well received, she was to take her seat and allow the people to approach her. That she could not be seen to be seeking their approval. It would be measured as weakness, and not cement any strengthening of her position she might have gained.

So, when Gahrye raised a hand and the applause and calls began to settle, she didn't move except to tighten her arm around Reth's waist where he'd come to stand by her.

"It is a night for celebration of our Queen, Anima! Let's dance!"

The roar was even louder, shaking the pillars of the market and Elia laughed delightedly as the musicians scrambled for their instruments, while the youngest adults tugged each other towards the dance floor.

"They really like to dance, don't they?" she said, beaming.

"Don't you?" Reth asked as quietly as he could beneath the noise.

"Yes, I'm just… I've never seen a whole people who love it this way, that's all."

"Well, they do. And while they're distracted," Reth said, leaning in to pull her into his chest, "as soon as we can do so in good taste, I am having you out on that dance floor," he whispered into her ear so that his breath tickled and raised goosebumps down her side.

Her blood heated at the flames in his eyes and she stroked a hand down his chest. "Yes, please," she breathed, her limbs feeling too loose, her mind spinning.

Had she really done it? Had it really worked? Or were did the people still have questions? Only time would tell. She wouldn't celebrate too quickly.

But she let Reth lead her back around to their seats behind the table. Aymora, already standing, pulled her into a hug. "You did well, Sire," she whispered in Elia's ear. "Now we wait." Then she pulled back and met Elia's eyes.

Elia nodded. "And pray," she joked.

Behind her, Reth was leaning over her should and moving oddly. She turned to find him beckoning Gahrye closer. Her heart sped up—they'd both been keeping a certain amount of space from each other since Reth discovered Gahrye had aided her in slipping her guards.

From the look on Gahrye's face said he was very aware of this, but he moved immediately to her side.

"What do you scent on the winds?" Reth said in a low, gravel voice.

Gahrye's mouth dropped open slightly. Behryn was Reth's Reader of the Winds, so for him to ask Gahrye was a great honor, and an acknowledgement of his gift. He swallowed hard, but answered without hesitation.

"They believe her," he said, looking back and forth between them. "They don't understand all of it, but they believe her. And the leaders are… convinced."

"The dissenters?"

"Very few. There was a strong sense of patience, expectation that there will be further problems. But most were accepting. There were very few in resistance. And I… I think they left before they were asked to acknowledge her, which speaks to the pressure they believe they would have been placed under to comply."

Reth nodded. "Very good. Thank you."

"Thank you, Gahrye," Elia said, smiling.

He grinned back. "You did really great, Elia. Nice touch with the, er, submission."

She laughed and Reth looked confused. "I'll explain later," she said, patting his arm. "Trust me, it was funny."

They took their seats then and Elia got lost in the thrill of receiving her people, one by one, as different individuals reached out, brought their children to meet her, or simply introduced themselves as gestures of goodwill.

Several asked her for an audience the following week, which she always granted. Asking Candace and Aymora to make a list and arrange a way to prioritize the time she should give.

Reth sat beside her, smiling and looking more satisfied than he had a right to, as the people mostly merely greeted him, then waited for their turns to speak with Elia.

She had to have sat there for an hour or more, before a gap in the line appeared and she sat back in her chair, sighing happily. "I can't believe it worked. It worked, right?" she said to Reth. "I'm not fooling myself that there's been a… shift."

"No, not at all, he said, his voice low and rumbling as he pulled her close and kissed her briefly. "But before more of them arrive, what do you say to a dance with your mate?"

"I would love that!" she said, and kissed him again, before jumping up from her seat.

*****

RETH

He knew she wasn't a confident dancer, but he hadn't expected her to begin trembling as they walked out to the dance floor. Many of the people laughed, or clapped as they made their way through, but none of them stopped their King and Queen, for which he was truly grateful. All their attention was now on enjoying themselves.

Which meant Reth could stop being King for a time, and instead enjoy himself and his mate.

Keeping his hands off her in that dress had been torment. He was itching to touch her and kiss her. He knew they had hours yet before they could actually leave—but he had plans for their evening, and it was his goal to keep her in his arms as much of that time as possible.

Perhaps it was just the tension of having finally done the thing she'd been planning for so many weeks—and the fact that it had been a success. But she seemed to go quiet as they walked through the people to the center of the dancefloor, and her hands trembled as he turned and pulled her into his arms.

The music was slow, which was perhaps good. At first he just pulled her in to sway with his cheek at her temple, and his hand at her bare back—though even that small treat had his breath coming faster.

But she couldn't seem to relax. He felt the tension in her that seemed to grow, rather than ease. As the music drew to a close and he straightened to twirl her slowly, her scent became spikey with nerves too.

"Elia, love, what's wrong?" he whispered as he looped her back into his chest.

Her shoulders rose and fell with her breath. Her eyes were bright and shiny over pink cheeks. And she trembled.

Was she ill?

In pain?

But her scent didn't carry any of that. He stared at her frowning and she stared back up at him as the music faded out completely.

Then, before the next song began, she took her hands back and, still standing in the circle of his arms, lifted them to the place where her scarf was tied on her neck.

"Reth," she whispered.

Something deep inside him leaped into his throat, as if he'd fallen off a cliff. "Yes?" he asked breathlessly, his voice too high.

"Will you… will you please take this as an offering of… me?" she said in a shaky voice. His ears began to buzz as she loosed the scarf from the nape of her neck, and let it slide off, then, without taking her eyes off of him, in a tradition as old as the Pride, she wrapped the scarf around her hand, then pulled the loop off and, with one hand, she offered it to him.

She searched his eyes as his mouth dropped open.