Chapter 157: Ritual - Part 6

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*****

~ ZEV ~

It was an act of sheer will to keep his feet planted, to not shove himself into the crowd of males and fight his way through to her, to dance for her, to convince her!

But this was her time. This was her choice. He couldn't force her. He didn't want to. She had to choose him. If she didn't…

His heart clenched painfully and he grunted.

Dunken looked at him from the side, but since he didn't move, his friend didn't say anything, or try to intervene.

Please, Sasha, he said into her mind. Don't forget how I love you. I will make it up to you. I promise. Let me show you.

Keyden leaped between them, but he moved so quickly it was a mere flash before her eyes were back and he could see her, plead with her to look at him. And she did.

And he saw love there, still. Right alongside her pain.

A whine broke in his throat.

"It's almost over and she hasn't wavered," Dunken murmured from beside him. "Don't get weak now."

"She's afraid I'm going to hurt her again."

"Wouldn't you be?" Dunken said flatly.

Zev blinked. He hadn't thought about it that way before. Then he stared at her and she stared back, and his heart leaped like Keyden had been a moment before, because she shook her head—not at Zev, but at Keyden.

The male was persistent, he reached for her, murmured his promises, but Sasha recoiled from him, and Zev's heart sang as she turned from him to wait… and no other males stepped forward.

"Is that it?" she whispered to Kyelle. His dear friend scanned the crowd, and then nodded tightly. "It looks like it. Declare yourself."

Sasha took a deep breath, then turned back to lock eyes with Zev and she smiled for the first time he'd seen since she first arrived.

"I choose Zev!" she called, loud enough for the entire gathering to hear. "I choose my mate and he chooses me!"

The males roared, howls rising from the wolves who had hung back from the others, and would now help Zev fight to reach her.

Dunken chuckled as Zev sprang forward like a starter gun had gone off, throwing himself into the crowd.

At first his passage was easy—the wolves making way for him, even as they fended off the other clans, the males fighting—sparring, only—to make Zev work for it.

But he'd come alive when she'd said his name and that smile… he didn't care about his ribs. Didn't care about the things they'd said about him—or the way her eyes had shadowed when she'd heard them—he only cared that she stood on the other side of this crowd and her eyes followed him, pleading for him to come. Quickly.

He barely saw the thrusts and kicks, blocked them without thought. He didn't feel the blows that landed—half-hearted, and no more than training strength, though strong enough to bruise. He didn't hear the calls and snarls, the insults, or the teasing.

His whole world became Sasha—her eyes, her lips, her hair, her body in that stunning dress, and the way she leaned towards him, worried and excited, waiting for him to reach her so they could finally touch and this ridiculous challenge would be over.

Adrenalin flooded his veins and he tore through the males, not even waiting for the wolves to push everyone back and thin the crowd ahead of him. He plowed through them, snarling and blocking, turning to kick, ducking blows, and laughing when he dodged one kick completely.

Then finally, the only males between him and Sasha were the ones who'd displayed for her. They stood in two lines, facing him, on the balls of their feet, ready to fight.

The other males peeled back to give them room and Zev settled his weight low, smiling the smile he usually used for the hunt.

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"Who's first?" he growled, beckoning them forward. "Who wants to submit first?"

The males snarled and two of them leaped forward, but Zev was laughing, turning to block the male in front him even as he stretched to kick in the one trying sneak to his back.

"She's mine," he growled, and three of the younger ones submitted, ducking their heads and kneeling, which only made him laugh again.

Of course, the others wouldn't let him through so easily, but he didn't care. It was happening. It was finally happening. He was going to reach her and the gathered Clans would acknowledge their bond and they would be finished with these stupid questions, these ridiculous challenges.

He would take her to the solitude and they would revel in each other, then he'd come back—healed in both body and heart, with his mate at his side, and he would defeat the tiger.

A tiny niggle sounded in the back of his mind at that thought and it occurred to him then, for the first time, that none of Tigers had tried to entice her.

He took a quick scan of the crowd as  he turned to block another thrust. Sure enough, the Tigers were there, present as a clan.

Strange that they hadn't put at least one contender forward.

But it was too late now, he reminded himself with a wave of relief. The challenges were over. Once he reached her, their bond was made.

And so, Zev fought.

He heard Sasha gasp more than once and grieved that she worried for him. But these blows truly were half strength and the bruises would heal in hours. The males were making their point, no longer trying to defeat him. But only to make him prove his desire for her.

And so, finally, he faced on Keyden—the oldest and strongest of the males that had tried to entice her, and the goat gave him a grim smile.

"She deserves better than you, Zev," he said quietly.

"Then I'm grateful that she's humble enough to take me anyway," he growled back, advancing on the male.

But after only two, half-hearted blows, Keyden clasped his wrist and pulled him in so they were chest to chest.

It was half-greeting, half-restraint and Zev growled. But Keyden shook his head.

"Will you give your devotion? Will you keep her heart safe as the Alpha Female should always be?"

"You know I will, Keyden," Zev snarled.

They stared at each other, muscles straining as Keyden fought to keep him in the grip.

But after a moment, the older male nodded once, then dropped his arm and dropped to one knee, submitting.

Zev should have thanked the male, but he was too exhilarated, throwing himself past the goat, to Sasha, who gasped and reached for him, burying her face in his chest as he embraced her, pulling her tightly into his chest.

Thank God, Sasha. You're mine. Thank God.

"Yes," she whispered, squeezing him tighter.

Then he pulled back just far enough to meet her eyes, using his thumb to wipe away a single tear that was tracking down her cheek.

"Don't cry," he whispered. "I love you, Sash."

"I know, that's what makes me cry," she choked, smiling through her tears. "I just… I can't believe this is really happening."

"I wouldn't be so certain of that. Not yet," a dark, husky voice said from the other side of the crowd.

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