The Ugly Duckling Of The Tiger Tribe-Chapter 283: Damar pushed himself too hard

The water became violent, thrashing about and making the very rocks under my boots vibrate.

The surface of the sea didn’t just move; it began to spiral, forming a massive, frothing vortex that pulled the dark, oily film of the ’bitter dust’ down into the depths to be shredded by the current.

I stood back, shielding the basket of cubs from the salty spray that was now flying into the air. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Seeing Damar like this—as a literal force of nature—was a reminder that as much as he was my gentle, protective husband, he was also a king of the wild.

After what felt like an eternity, the violent spinning reached the very bottom of the sea.

The whirlpool didn’t stop or subside but kept rolling, and that made me wonder if we may have a ’little’ problem in our hands. What do we do if the whirlpool refuses to subside?

Then, a few yards away, a silver head snake broke the surface.

Damar swam toward the shore with slow, powerful strokes. As he hauled himself onto the flat rock, his skin was glistening with seawater, and his chest was heaving.

He shifted back into his human form before he even reached me, the silver scales on his skin fading back into smooth, damp muscle.

I didn’t wait. I gave my basket of cubs to Robin to hold and then scrambled over to him, nearly tripping on the slick stone.

But I couldn’t stop. I could feel his exhaustion from all the ways here.

"Damar!" I breathed, reaching out to catch his shoulders just before he slumped.

He looked very exhausted, and his emerald eyes were slightly dimmed. I reached up, my hand trembling slightly, and caressed his wet face.

I gently brushed a stray strand of wet silver hair that was stuck to his cheek, tucking it behind his ear.

"You’re shaking," I whispered, my eyes searching his. "Tell me you didn’t overdo it. You look like you just fought a hurricane."

Damar leaned into my touch for a second, his skin cool and salty against my palm. He took a deep, steadying breath and shook his head.

"I am fine, Ari," he rasped, his voice a bit scratchy. I pursed my lips, feeling like I might’ve pushed him to do something too much for him. "The water is moving now. The poison is scattered. But it will not stay that way forever. The tide will try to bring the silt back once the water settles."

He looked toward the bush, toward the path we had taken here. "It is best to go get the wool now."

Yes, he was right. It was better to go get the wool now. There was no time to be swaddling.

I nodded, feeling a surge of adrenaline return. I was worried for my husband, but I couldn’t let his effort go to waste.

This was where the real work began.

"Robin!" I called out, looking at the sheep chief who was staring at Damar as if he had just seen a god. "Snap out of it! We have to head back now." I said, and Damar suddenly swept me off my feet.

I looked at him, looked at his tired state, the sweat that rolled down his skin, and how his skin was getting grayly pale, and felt my heart ache. He was still going to try to push himself even while being exhausted.

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"You won’t get there quickly on your feet." He said to me.

I looked at Jael and said,

"We’ll be gone for a while, so just stay there," I said, and he nodded.

"I will wait here."

As Damar made his move, having the sheep behind him hooking his arms around Damar’s neck, and me in his arms up front, carrying my basket of cubs, I leaned in and whispered.

"Damar," he looked down and met my eyes. "You were incredible,"

Damar didn’t say anything, but I felt him squeeze my shoulder. The pride and appreciation I saw in his eyes were far greater than any words he could’ve used.

Damar’s pace was incredible. Even though he was exhausted, he glided across the path with his usual speed, which made the wind whistle past my ears.

I huddled closer to him, keeping the basket of cubs shielded from, while Robin used all his strength to cling to Damar’s back so he wouldn’t fall off.

Soon, we reached the village of Oakhaven, but it was already a ghost town.

It was just how we left it.

"They’re gone," I muttered, more out of relief than surprise since the plan had been in motion for more than half an hour already.

Damar flicked his tongue, his eyes peering in a specific direction. And then he said, "This way."

He had caught their trail.

He veered off the main path, cutting through a thick patch of silver-leafed trees. We were moving toward the massive stone arches that marked the entrance to the kingdom proper.

This was where the ’civilized’ part of the West Way began, and where Garrow’s influence was probably the strongest.

As we passed the final ridge, I finally saw traces of them. I spotted the woolly back of the flock of sheep.

It didn’t look like a battle had happened—not yet, that is.

The massive line of sheep was gathered in the valley below, guarded by a few of what looked like beasts who were Noah. Why else would he have them close by if they were loyalist?

Opposite them, a fair distance, blocking the narrow pass into the capital, was a wall of Garrow’s traitors.

Hyenas, rough-looking bears, and a few mangy wolves stood with their spears leveled, their eyes glinting with malice.

Ah, such ugly beasts.

In front of the sheep, standing like a wall of pure iron, were Noah and Fenric.

Fenric looked like he was getting ready for a fight, standing in front of the flock of sheep with Noah right next to him, their chests pushed out, and their fists clenched.

Their eyes narrowed, sizing the enemies in front of them before they tried to engage them. It looked like it was going to be a really fierce battle.

Then, Fenric stiffened. Not just him, but Noah too. Their nose wiggled in the air a bit and then turned their heads back, looking at us approaching from afar.

Just like they said before, they could smell my scent from afar.