historical

GAR

Gar's lion paced with him, anxious and urgent. The mate was scared. The mate needed protection.

He was forced to fight every natural instinct he had—to cover her, to put himself between her and the world, to demand to identify the threat, then remove it. He'd listened to his mother, her gentle way of offering comfort, all the reassurances of space and time, and he'd known, deep down, that she was doing it right. That this.. distance was what Rika needed.

But then, as they got back to his tree and she'd been distracted, almost lost in thought—though he doubted Rika was ever unaware of her surroundings—her scent had changed. First he'd caught the edge of fear tumbling over hope. But then she'd started talking about being small, about her parents, her father's dominating behavior and its affect on her mother.

He'd understood in concept, if not in practice, what she'd meant. Tried to relate. And her scent had changed again.

Wonder.

Curiosity.

Then, inexplicably, anger and fear again.

His head was so turned around by the time the thread of desire entered her scent that he was beginning to question his nose.

The strangest things were happening to her as she moved, just subtle changes, first more feminine, then more of that.. shrinking.

And she'd shuddered. It almost killed him when, right on the heels of that flash of desire, she shivered as if something turned her stomach.

"What is it?" he'd blurted—quietly, to be sure. But without thought.

He was desperate to reach for her, to hold her, to soothe away the memories that were causing her pain, and replace them with new memories full of love, and heat and play. But he was terrified. As frightened as he'd ever been facing the Traverse, or his father's wrath. Because she flinched. And it hit him that she might never be able to just be comfortable with him. Let alone.. give herself.

"Rika?"

She was staring at him, eyes wide and liquid, but her body very, very still. "You care." She breathed.

That was only more confusing. Hadn't he been saying that this whole time? "Yes?"

"No, Gar, I mean.. you really care. You're.. invested. In me?"

"Yes!" He raked a hand through his hair. "I thought I communicated that—"

"You have, you have. I just.. I guess I just didn't really comprehend that you were.. It seems like guys mostly get attracted first, and the feelings come later. I think I was thinking that you wanted me."

"I do," he blurted, then could have slapped himself for the flash of fear in her eyes. But before he could correct it, she blinked and smiled.

"I want, too," she said, so quietly, so hesitantly, as if she was even more afraid of herself than him. "I think that's what's holding me back."

Gar frowned. "You pull away from me.. because you want me?"

She nodded. "I know how fudged up that sounds, trust me. I've been in years of therapy to even realize it. But.. wanting you.. I'm afraid that it makes me weak. I'm afraid it means that I'll let you do things you shouldn't do. I'm afraid it makes me blind. I'm afraid one day I'll wake up and realize I'm my mother, and I didn't even see it happen."

Gar blinked. "Your mother.. the thing you don't want to be. It's because she's made herself small. For your father?"

Rika nodded. "He's hurt her so many times. Made her feel so worthless. And broken. And.. she loves him. I don't know how it can be true, but she does. She's convinced he's right when he blames her for his anger. She's convinced he's right that no one else would have her. So she stays, because.. because she thinks it's better to be with him and take all that, than to be alone." Tears sprang into her eyes and Gar's hands twitched toward he, he was so desperate to hold her. "I don't ever want to be that woman, Gar. Being with a man that would do that.. it's not better. But she's blind to it. And I'm afraid if I give in to you. If I.. accept this. If I believe you... I'm afraid that's what I'll become."

She looked at him, pleading, and Gar, his head spinning and pulse thrumming under his skin, gaped at her.

"But.. but I would never do that to you, Rika."

She half-sobbed, and half-laughed. "No man ever admits when he's a toxic asshole!"

Gar clawed both hands through his hair and half-turned away from her, silently pleading with the Creator for inspiration. He felt so out of his depth. Such the wrong person.

His mother would know what to say here.

His father would know how to convince her of his sincerity.

Gar was a bumbling, thoughtless idiot most of the time. The only thing he knew was what was right, and what was wrong. And them, together, that was right. He was certain of it.

He asked himself what his father would do in this situation, if it was his mother's fear he was facing.

And then he remembered the story. That story he'd heard his mother tell a handful of times with tears in her eyes—and the way they'd always disappear together after she told her and his father would be roaring within half an hour, and Gar would be laughing at Elreth's embarrassment.

He'd even spurred his mother to tell it one time, just to piss Elreth off when they tugged each other back to the bedchamber—

He cleared his throat, blinking out of the memory and turned back to her. His mate, he realized. His own version of what his mother was to his father.

Holy shit. This was how his father felt?

Head spinning with images of his life and the things he'd done, the ways he'd looked down on his family and friends, all the ways he'd been guilty of dismissing this kind of love—even as he yearned for it in his life.

He'd been such a fucking fool.

He shook his head to free it, then finally met Rika's eyes again.. Took a deep breath, and prepared to lay himself bare against the blade of her fear.