Chapter 146 - 146 The Bond

146 The Bond

~ TARKYN ~

The sun was high as Tarkyn hopped to grasp a small but hardy scrub-tree to pull himself up the short, sheer face of the stone and dirt mountainside. He was deep into the foothills of the Northern Range, high enough that the air was more chill, but not yet in the areas where the ground would freeze.

‘Are you well, my love?’ he sent, grunting as he heaved himself up to the small, level area overshadowed by an overhang of rock.

‘I am well,’ she said and he could feel her smile.

He stopped there to breathe for a moment and look down on the valley and WildWood bathed in Autumn sun below. That sight almost stopped his breath.

He was high enough to see over the WildWood, all the way to the Southern ranges, including the mountain that was home to the Royal Cave.

It wasn’t the first time he wished Harth was with him, but he had only himself to blame. He’d been fascinated by their bond, and the few limits it seemed to pose for them.

He’d already traveled for hours, far further than he’d ever intended to today. He would have expected them to lose the link by now— even Harth was surprised. She said she’d never heard of a bond reaching beyond a few miles of walking.

Always the strategist, the further they grew from each other, the more the opportunities and options Tarkyn wanted to explore—could they still send images and memories? Did altitude, distance, or climate affect it?

.....

Did this mean if they were separated between their peoples they could still communicate? He wasn’t certain how many miles lay between WildWood and the Chimeran encampment. He only knew he wasn’t willing to travel that far from Harth right now. But all their tests so far had shown little effect on the bond by distance.

Standing there, looking over the edge to the land below—because of the barren ground around it, he could even see glimpses of the great sides of the bowl that made the hallowed ground off to the east.

‘This is amazing, Tarkyn,’ Harth said happily in his head. ‘How far away are you?’

‘Several miles now,’ he sent back, swallowing the sudden clench in his gut when he looked northwest. The valley was there and he could see a pinch of the waterfall, but apart from the dark seam of the ravine, the rest was hidden by the curve of the hills, or the tree canopy.

And yet, he had no reason to fear because his mate could speak in his head. He could feel her. He knew she was well and happy.

What an incredible gift.

Surveying the area where he knew his mate stood, for a moment he felt an immense sense of wellbeing—gratitude, joy, thrill… When he focused on who she was and what lay between them, his heart was at peace.

But then something gripped his spine, twisting his guts and pulling him back to her.

Tarkyn sighed. The events that surrounded them, the powers pressing at them from opposing sides… those things couldn’t be forgotten, much as he wished they might.

‘What happened?’ Harth sent suddenly—she’d obviously felt his stress.

‘I’m fine. Just missing you,’ he sent genuinely. Then for fun, he showed her his favorite memory—her stretched back over his knees, her breasts high and tight, hands clutching at his arms as she cried his name.

He felt the clench of desire in her belly that tangled with embarrassment at the intimate flash. A thrill she loved, but was still disconcerted by.

But she didn’t push the memory away…

Instead, to his delight, a moment later she replaced it with her own memory—Tarkyn looming over her, his shoulders rippling as he braced his weight on one arm, and clasped the back of her neck with the other, his eyes bright and intent, locked on hers through the hair that had fallen over his face because she’d been clawing her fingers through it.

He felt her desire spike with that memory, and his body responded.

“Minx,” he growled through a smile. Then he sent. ‘Hold that thought. I’m coming back.’

As he began to crawl back down the rugged mountainside, he shifted to his lion which could leap and use for legs for balance. He made it down the mountain far faster than he’d made it up.

‘It won’t take me as long to get home,’ he sent.

Or tried to.

But deep in his beast he could feel that he was suddenly alone in his head.

‘Harth?’ He wasn’t sure how the bond link was formed, whether his lion was capable of it. But when she didn’t respond, and he couldn’t feel her open to him, he urged his lion to leap to a flat rock, then shifted back.

‘—going on, Tarkyn? Are you okay?!’ Even in his head her tone was frantic, shrill.

‘I’m well, love. I’m fine,’ he reassured her quickly and felt her relax. ‘I shifted to get down a tricky portion of the climb. It seems I can’t form the link with you in my lion.’

He felt her sigh, felt her panic subside and leave her shaking.

‘I wouldn’t have thought of that—the link becomes easier for us wolves in our animal forms.’

‘Not my lion, I guess.’ He was disappointed to find such a boundary, but thankful that they shared such an incredible link when in human form.

He began to climb down the rocky outcropping, but the slowness frustrated him when his body ached for his mate, and she yearned for him.

‘I want to be with you, Harth,’ he said, choosing not to be embarrassed by the demanding whine that crept into his tone.

‘I want you, too.’

‘I’m going to shift. I can be back to you within a couple of hours then. It might take twice that without my beast.’

She hesitated, but he knew her fear wasn’t for herself, but for him. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But shift back in an hour and let me know you’re safe?’

‘I will, Love. I love you. go warm the furs. I’ll join you there when I get back.’

She gave an adorable laugh at the image he sent of her curled in the furs and him leaping onto the sleeping platform to cover her.

‘Okay, Tarkyn. I love you.’

‘I love you more.’

‘Not likely.’

‘Let’s figure it out this evening,’ he said with a wicked grin. ‘I’ll run like the wind to reach you.’

‘Just don’t exhaust yourself. I have… work for you to do when you get back.’

He laughed, but shifted immediately and began to leap from rock to rock. He needed to get home.