Far From Home: The Tribal Chief's Mate- a M/M fantasy romance

EPILOGUE: War

SRINY'ETE, THREE YEARS LATER—

"We'll fight in your name, Sriny'ete," Mik'ael said from atop his stallion, the men around him shouting their agreement with raised fist and a great, terrifying war cry. I had to fight back tears as I nodded, returning the man's raised hand gesture with what smile I could muster.

"We'll avenge the wrongs done to you, and punish the El'kahrians who allowed it to happen."

His words were met with another pounding of sound around us, and Jacob gripped my hand just that little bit tighter to keep me grounded.

I wanted to beg him to keep his mind open and not jump to the idea that all El'kahrians were evil. After all, I wouldn't be alive today to love my mate, spend my life with him, if it weren't for a terrified young man with golden hair and hope in his eyes. But I held the words back. War wouldn't be kind to any, and there was no mercy we could show our enemies, for they would show us none.

The worst fear I'd felt in years ripped through me only a few weeks before when the messenger came for Jacob, summoning him to a war council. 

"I'm coming with you!" I yelled even before the messenger finished speaking. Jacob met my eyes and nodded, confused.

"Of course, arayna," he replied, frowning as he moved to me and held his hands out to me.

"And I'm... Jacob, I can't go back. I can't return to El'kahr, even—"

Bile rose up my throat and I was unable to finish the thought, but Jacob only shook his head.

My night terrors had died down over the years, not wholly gone, but quieter, less frequent, and I'd never had any issues making love to my mate. I still liked to be facing him when he penetrated me, but we were slowly working on that fear, and I knew it would be gone with time and patience.

And if my mate had nothing else, he was overwhelmingly patient.

"Arayna, ex-slaves are exempt from battle duty, as are the mates of Chiefs. So you're doubly safe. You'll stay here, with me, and help me keep up the manor. We'll be short staffed in the farm and the manor for a long time, as well as the hunting, and... well, everything, with so many leaving. I'll need you here, sweet Srin."

I was ashamed by the relief I felt at that, but my mate only cupped my cheeks in his big palms and smiled softly.

"No one could possibly expect you to return to your hell, arayna." Then he turned to the messenger, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me up against his body. "I don't need to attend the war council. I vote for Geir of the Moonstone Tribe as Warlord, as I'm sure he's the most likely candidate from all of the tribes, and I'll have my available men and women ready for battle within the fortnight."

"Yes, Chief Jacob," the messenger said, before jumping back on her horse and leaving as quickly as she'd come.

Now, only two weeks later, I watched as nearly six hundred men and women of Summerstone Tribe saluted me after Mik'ael's words and the war cries died down, then they were gone and I was left with my head pressed up against Jacob's neck, sobs wracking my chest, praying to every god I knew the name of to bring my family back to me. To give Geir the strength and wisdom to bring an end to the bloodshed as quickly as humanly possible.

THE END

*****Thank you so much for reading and sticking with me through Jacob and Srin'yete's angst. I hope you liked it, and I hope you love them as much as I do :):)*****