Chapter 279: Predator vs. Prey
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*****
GAHRYE - Human World
She was… stunning. A massive, golden lioness, paws so large they were the size of dinner plates. But as soon as she appeared, her ears went flat and she hissed.
Gahrye froze on the spot, but raised his hands in case Elia could hear him, desperate to get through to her—but wildly uncertain how to do it. If only he'd ever shifted himself. If only Candace was here…
Fire burned in his veins—he wanted to do what was right, what would help, but he didn't know what it was! Why did the Creator torment him this way?
He saw the moment the lioness dropped her great head and zeroed in on him as prey. Her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared, and every instinct within Gahrye understood what was about to happen.
Elia's beast was going to tear out his throat, and his best friend was going to have to watch it happen because she didn't know how to control it.
There was no time. No space. This room was large, but full of furniture, and she was on four legs. She'd have him the moment he tried to flee, and there was nowhere high enough to get him out of her reach.
If he opened the door and she rushed it, her weight would win. And then he'd let her loose in the house—which would put her right on Kalle who was on the other side of that door, and starting to raise her voice to ask what was going on. No way was he letting Elia take Kalle too.
Then she dropped her shoulders, readying to pounce, and to Gahrye's eyes, everything slowed down.
His own pulse thumped in his ears so loudly he couldn't hear Kalle anymore. He could hear only his own breath, and the low growl rumbling from the beast in front of him.
His body yearned for flight, but there was nowhere to go. Then she bared her teeth and coiled to leap.
In that moment everything within him fought, pounded, screamed.
It. Wasn't. Fair.
As the massive body in front of him launched and he saw his death approaching, everything within him burned.
His mind flashed on Kalle, on the small smile she'd given him. On the way her hair shimmered even under the dimmed lamps. On her scent. He had finally found his mate, and hadn't even been able to kiss her, let alone mate.
Hadn't even told her that she was his.
And here his best friend—a human, and weak by Anima standards—was doing the impossible. Taking the beast form that should have been his. All the tiny moments in his life that would have been different if he'd been able to shift suddenly flipped through his head in a barrage of images—the bullying he experienced as a cub, the sneers and jeers of the bigots, the pitying stares of his normal friends…
The females who liked how he looked, but couldn't bring themselves to mate someone who smelled so wrong.
The way he'd nearly been rejected as the Queen's advisor—even though he was good at it! He could scent the winds!
So much of his life would have been changed for the better if he could shift. And now… now Elia did it without even being Anima?
As she flew towards him he cursed the Creator for cursing him. But he braced, and held her gaze.
If he died now, he would die with dignity and strength and he would die telling Elia he knew she was innocent. Better to die trying, than to fail and die at the hands of a grief-stricken King.
"Elia, it's not your—" he began.
But in-flight, the beast's ears flattened and it hissed, twisting in mid-air and coming down still several feet from Gahrye, crouched, leaning away from him, hissing, its tail lashing.
Gahrye blinked, his heart beating so hard, his skin pulsed.
He stared at her, and she stared back, then opened her mouth—fangs flashing—and hissed again.
"Thank you," he breathed. "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but… thank you."
The lioness shook her head like something irritating was in her ear. But when Gahrye moved she cowered and gave a groaning roar, one of her paws swiping the carpet, leaving raked lines in the thick wool under their feet.
But she didn't move. In fact, she looked hunted, eyes darting left and right as she scrambled back to find something to put at her back.
And then Gahrye understood.
Elia was frightened.
She'd held the beast back, but had no way of bringing herself back. And the beast, instinctively threatened, needed a den, a place to feel hidden.
"I'll… I've got an idea," he said quietly. The animal hissed again, but, keeping himself facing her, hands in front of his chest and palms towards her, he skirted around the furniture to the door of the bedroom Elia had chosen, and opened it.
Then he faced a dilemma. If he turned his back on her, the beast might get brave and come for him again. But if he didn't make the room dark, it was unlikely to want to go in there. In the end, he shook his head and murmured, "Help me out here, Elia, I'm going to make you a den. Just… stay there."
He shuffled backwards through the door, then closed it slowly. As soon as the beast couldn't see him, he rushed through the room, closing curtains and turning off lights so there would be little light in the room.
Then he hurried back to the door and took a deep breath, praying the Creator wouldn't torment him with certain death in the form of a lioness waiting to pounce the moment he opened it.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he cracked it, and the beast was still crouched across the room—still staring in his direction, but not moving.
Then he stepped through slowly, swinging the door wide so she could see the darkness of the room and walking along the wall, keeping his back to it, hands up where she could see them.
"Go ahead," he said quietly. "There's no one in there. Lots of darkness. You can hide and relax and calm… Elia, you need to get calm and breathe and… you have to want to take yourself back. That's all I know. I'm sorry."
He bit off the last words bitterly.
There was literally no Anima worse equipped to deal with this situation. Even a lamb would have been able to help her more.
Teeth gritted and praying hard, he skirted around the room until he was more to her left, and the door was ahead of her. Then he waited.
The beast flickered its ears between him and the door, still crouched, but beginning to slide, leaning towards it.
As she took a step, he continued around the room, so the further it moved, the? more he was behind her. Until finally it slid across the room in that low, pattering run cats had when they didn't want to be seen, its back barely moving as it darted between the furniture, then through the door.
Gahrye rushed across the room and yanked the door shut, turning the lock, and testing the door to make sure it wouldn't give.
Then he groaned and turned, leaning his back to the wall, and sliding down to sit, with his face in his shaking hands.
*****
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