Chapter 569 Don't Leave Me

GAR

Gar was on his back, ground into the rock by the weight of four fully-grown male Anima, each of them hissing for him to be calm. But they didn't have a clue! His mate—his vulnerable, brave mate was out in the dark, running towards their enemy and he hadn't even gotten to say goodbye!

A growl ripped out of his throat and he felt his skin ripple, his beast yearning not come through and tear chunks from these males that would keep him from protecting her.

"Gar, look at me!" It was Tarkyn, leaned over his chest, one hand clapped over Gar's mouth to stop him screaming. Their eyes locked over his hand. "This is the plan—think, Gar! We have a plan. She knows what she's doing. She could mean the difference between life and death for the rest of us! We're going to get her out—you have to let this happen. You can't be an enemy for us to fight right now, please! She knows what she has to do and she's strong and she's going to do it! You have to let her!"

Gar arched, but couldn't move without shifting and harming one of them, but as he considered it, his father's words came back to him, echoing through his head on a loop.

You have to accept that she has her own strength—and that the Creator has a purpose for her that's unique. Apart from you.

You have to accept that she has her own strength.

The Creator has a purpose for her that's unique.

Apart from you.

He fought it. Creator's mane, he fought it. His skin rippled, his heart raced, the words he wanted to say tried to punch out of his throat from behind Tarkyn's hand.

The Creator has a purpose for her that's unique.

But, she was vulnerable. And weak compared to him! She needed him there to watch over her.

Apart from you.

Gar made a tortured groan and Tarkyn met his eyes, the Captain's gaze sympathetic, yet firm. "I'm sorry, Gar," he whispered. "I know this is hard. But you should be proud. She's strong and she knows what she has to do. She's doing it for all of us. That's a true warrior."

He knew Tarkyn was right. He knew he'd say and do the same thing if the roles were reversed. But… but…

His heart threatened to shatter under the weight of them all. The weight of his mate's distance—the distance she put between them one step at a time while he lay there, watching her. Helpless.

He could shift, he knew. He'd throw these males off and race down the hillside. He could run so much faster than her. He'd catch her. Both of them. He'd catch that male that ran with her too, in the place Gar should have been.

But what then?

She would insist. She'd be angry. And he'd have been a distraction and slowed down their preparations that might save her when she did get through the human tech.

Because she would. He had to believe that.

Gar wasn't sure how long he lay there, his breath tearing in and out of his nose. But at some point, he relaxed enough that the males stopped holding him. They all backed away slowly. Tarkyn crouched next to Gar, watching him carefully, until Gar groaned and sat up, shaking his head.

Tarkyn patted his back. Gar was grateful that he didn't say anything, just turned back to the others and started whispered discussions of the next steps before they went back down the campsite.

Gar didn't contribute.

He sat on the cold stone of the outcrop, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, and he prayed. He prayed like he never had before that the Creator would cover his mate in strength and safety. That none of this would touch her.

And that she'd be returned to him utterly safe.

*****

RIKA

As she and Reece jogged through the darkness, Rika shed a few tears. She didn't know at what point Gar would become aware that she'd left, only that it would tear him apart when he did. She half expected to hear him roar—or feel him galloping up behind her in that lion form.

She wiped her face and her hand came away smeared in thin mud.

Already rumpled by the travel, she and Reece had dirtied themselves by rolling on the ground, as if they'd been sleeping in the dirt.

At least the pathetic tear tracks would make her story more credible. That was a good thing, she told herself. It made it all the more likely that she'd be successful and get back to Gar quickly. Safely.

She swallowed, her breathing growing heavy, but she pushed on.

The humans were out there. They'd seen the lights come alive. And that meant she needed to get there and stop them. Slow them. Change their course. She had to!

"Can you watch the distance?" she panted to Reece. "I can't see any detail except the lights and we need to be able to measure how far away they are when the masking drops."

"I can't see detail yet either," he said, apparently not overly winded by their pace. "But I think we have a couple of hours, at least."

Rika nodded and tried to make her body settle into a steady gait. This was going to be exhausting--which would make her more believable as well. But that also meant she'd have little energy left if it came to fighting for her life.

*****

Two hours later they had slowed to a bare crawl through the night. Rika was so exhausted, she couldn't do anything except put one foot in front of the other. She saw nothing except grass and darkness, except now and again when the masking around the human's progress would drop—which happened every half hour or so.

The last time it happened, she'd been able to make out individual headlights from the vehicles they had carrying the masking tech.

Even Rika was impressed that they were able to keep obscuring such a large group so consistently. The flicking had to be moments when the batteries for the devices were overloaded, or perhaps something broke the signals between them.

"We're getting close enough now that they'd believe we'd seen them," she said after the last flicker. "So we'll keep going and when it comes down again, we'll start running again, calling for them, okay?"

"They're still miles away," Reece warned.

"I know. But humans wouldn't be able to judge the distance as accurately. And they must see us while we're still out of range. I don't want some trigger-happy mercenary shooting one of us before they realize we're asking for help. I want to draw attention, okay? That way we don't look like we're trying to hide from them. We're kidnapped people desperate to be saved. Got it?"

Reece nodded grimly. "Got it."

"When we do meet them, you can't give them any hints about how sharp your hearing and eyes are."

Reece nodded. "I've been hiding that from humans my whole life," he said with a shrug. "As far as they'll know, I'm just as human as you."

Rika hoped so. She needed another set of eyes and hands, but she hoped she wasn't going to be to blame for Reece's death. The poor kid was clearly determined to try and save his parents from whatever fate they were facing.

But then the lights flickered ahead, and Rika leaped forward, screaming for help, Reece running along with her, both of them raising their arms and waving.

There wasn't any more time to question.

The humans needed to know they were there.