Taming the Queen of Beasts

WANNA SNEAK PEEK? Are you reading QUEEN OF BEASTS but have never read FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE KING OF BEASTS? I'm looking for a couple volunteers to read a scene and make sure it gives enough information for those who don't have the background of KING. If you're one of those, and would like to read a minor spoiler scene ahead of publication, let me know! (You can just click comment at the bottom of this chapter.) 

*****

GAR

His father pushed himself closer then, leaning in to take Gar by the shoulders and hold him so their eyes locked. "You're a man now, Gar. And I was serious about what I said earlier. I wish I'd done it differently with you. I wish I hadn't let my pride get in the way. But you need to know: No matter how angry or frustrated I got, I never stopped loving you. You're my son. You are precious to me in a way no one else is."

His father's eyes were turning red and Gar sat there, staring, like he was eight years old again.

"I'm a stupid old, prideful king who let his own way of living and seeing things blind him to his son's strengths. I wish I wasn't, Gar. You have no idea the regret I feel. But I can't change the past, I can only change the future. The same is true for you.

"If your mate has been harmed, she will need a soft touch, and a lot of patience. But she will be worth it. Take the bond, son. Show her how you love her, even if she doesn't give it back. There is no shame in loving someone who doesn't love you back. There is… honor in it. Strength and freedom to be found. The Creator sees what you give, whether she does or not. The Creator sees what you offer, the blood and tears you put forward. He sees even the things you don't. And he will reward you.

"Loving someone—especially your mate—is NEVER the wrong thing to do. Just don't… don't mistake love for indulgence. So many believe that to love someone is to make life easy for them. Don't believe it. Sometimes loving someone is giving them the thing they hate—but that they need. Sometimes it means standing your ground, and other times it means humbling yourself even when the other person is wrong, or doesn't understand.

"If she's driven by fear, she likely hasn't really loved, or been loved before. She'll need time to learn how. And she'll likely hurt you in that time. But don't give up. If she was made for you, her heart is true. Wait. And forgive. Give her what she needs, even if it isn't what she wants."

"Is that what you were doing with me?" Gar asked bitterly, the words breaking in his throat before he could protect himself from the possible answer.

But his father only looked sad. "No, Gar. I was wrong to say the things to you that I did. I was blind. That wasn't loving—I wasn't loving you."

Gar flinched.

But his father's eyes widened. "No, Gar, that's not what I meant. I felt the emotion of love for you. But my actions, my words… I was blind and putting my way of thinking ahead of what you needed. I truly didn't see it. I thought…  I thought what you needed was an example of strength and the right way forward. I forgot that sometimes the Creator leads good hearts on different paths. That your calling might be different than mine, and your strength would need to look different to meet it. I'm sorry. Gar, I am so terribly sorry. I tried to mold you into myself, when really I should only have tried to strengthen what you already are. Please forgive me. Please."

Gar blinked and swallowed. There was a deep pit in his heart that these words rushed into and began to heal—filling a hole he felt like he'd carried most of his life. Hearing them, seeing his father's emotion… it made him want to weep. Hadn't expected this.

Father's eyes were warm and also sad. But he was unwavering. It was one thing he still admired in his dad: When he knew what was right, he did not apologize or feel shame for pursuing it. It was one of the few aspects to his father that he'd actively tried to grow into. Of course, he'd failed miserably so far. But… but he was trying.

Which meant there was something he needed to say now. He swallowed and his father kept waiting patiently.

"I can forgive you. I do," he said quietly. "But it doesn't make me trust you."

Dad nodded, though his smile was sad. "I understand. This is the first step, though, Gar. If we can begin to reevaluate each other, if you give me a chance to show you how I love you. And if I show my love better—in the way you need, rather than the way I want to show it—we can get through this. I can't say I will always get it right, Gar. But I want to try."

Gar wanted to squirm in his seat like a cub during a meal. Fear flittered in his stomach because he felt warm, and hopeful. But he'd felt that way before and it had all gone wrong.

And his throat pinched, because a piece of him had yearned so badly to hear these things.

Gar cleared his throat. "Me too."

With a tiny grunt, his father got to his feet and reached out a hand to clasp Gar's and pull him to his feet as well.

Then his father embraced him. They were of a height, and his father only slightly broader than Gar. When his dad wrapped his arms around him and he was held for the first time in more years than he could remember… Gar froze.

After a few seconds of Gar standing there, stiff as a board, and his father hugging him, his dad whispered in his ear.

"This is where you walk into your fear, son. With me, and with her. This is probably a little bit of how she feels when you touch her sometimes. I'm holding you because I love you. And I'm going to keep holding you whether you hold me back or not. But… it's so much better when we're in it together. Put your arms around me. Let me love you. Then go love her the way that's true and real, whether she receives it or not."

Fighting tears, Gar made himself bring his arms up to circle his father's waist. And a moment later, he laid his forehead on his father's shoulder, remembering, suddenly, when he was a cub. Back then he'd idolized his father and had always run to him when he was hurt or upset.

And he'd always found comfort.

He wasn't sure how that had changed. Which of them had changed. But standing there for that long moment, embraced by his father, he felt both tiny, and massive. His face no longer buried in his father's stomach, now he could look him in the eye. But those arms… they still wrapped him in a sense of safety, a strength he could rely on.

He'd missed that.

They stood that way for a long time, neither of them ready to let go.

Gar trembled when he felt something wet on his collarbone. But neither of them spoke, they just held each other.

When they finally broke apart, Gar was about to say something smartass just to break the tension. But his father took Gar's head in his hands and kissed his hair.

"Creator bless you for being a better male than me, Gar," he whispered. "I don't deserve you. But I'm so glad I have you."

A tiny whine broke in Gar's throat as they stepped back. He had to force himself to meet his father's eyes—and find them red and shining. But his father was smiling.

"Go get her, Gar. You're a prince, and a good male. She can't do better. Just give her time to see it."

Gar nodded and muttered a thank you, then rushed for the door, holding his tears back until he was outside.

But as he stepped outside his vision blurred and he realized, he couldn't go straight back to his tree like this. His mother was there and she'd make a fuss. And Rika would probably be terrified. So he blew out a breath and walked out into the meadow, his back to the tree houses and stood, staring at the mountain for a while.

He prayed that if anyone looked out one of the windows that faced the meadow, from the back he looked only like a man considering his future.. Not like a child, Sobbing, and trying not to.