Fated

  Jordan sat forward. “Because human werewolves live at the most one year. They’re just too fragile to survive in animal form.”

  Wow, that did make sense. “So, changing shifters into werewolves might lead to longevity for a slave class,” Cara mused.

  Dage nodded. “It makes an odd sense and creates a twofold advantage. First, they end up with an immortal frontline army to do the dirty work, and second, they take out many of our allies. That is, if this virus actually works, and the Kurjans finds a way to mass contaminate.” His silver gaze deepened, and he focused on the doctor. “Does the virus work? I mean, Maggie fought the change and shifted into a natural wolf form instead.”

  The doctor nodded, sniffing loudly. “Yes. Er, well, yes. I’ve never seen this before, and we don’t know if the Kurjans perfected the process.”

  “So what happens now?” Maggie asked, her voice full of defeat.

  The doctor shrugged bony shoulders. “I have no idea. Either the virus will run its course and you’ll return to normal, or the virus will run its course and you’ll end up a werewolf.”

  Geez. He could’ve sugarcoated that a bit more. Cara pursed her lips. “The curse or spell—how is it done?”

  Talen rubbed gentle circles on her shoulder as he answered. “It’s an incantation the master gives while the were is shackled in chains of silver before him.”

  “So they have to be in the same room?” Cara asked.

  “Yes,” Talen said.

  Well, good. They’d keep Maggie safe until a cure or even treatment for the virus could be found. Cara smiled at her new friend, relieved when Maggie attempted a small smile in return.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “I, er, ah, haven’t notified the Banes Council yet.”

  Katie leapt to her feet, a red flush of fury sliding across her high cheekbones. “And you won’t, damn it. She’s not a werewolf.”

  Jordan tugged Katie back into her chair and the young woman grudgingly retook her seat, her gaze hot on the doctor. Jordan’s eyes hardened to bronze as he focused on the man. “The statute dictates notification is only proper if a werewolf is found. Maggie is a wolf-shifter, not a werewolf.”

  The doctor leaned forward. “Yes, er, but the statute requires notification if someone suspects the presence of a werewolf.” His eyes widened behind the ridiculous glasses, and his voice rose in pitch. “I suspect the presence of a were.”

  Next to her Talen straightened into readiness. What was going on? “What’s the Banes Council?” Cara asked.

  Turning beseeching eyes toward her, the doctor straightened his striped red bow tie. “The Council investigates, hunts, and terminates werewolves. We are bound by law to notify it.”

  She turned toward Dage. “You’re the King of the Realm.” At his nod, she continued, “Then can’t you pardon a werewolf?”

  Dage grinned, flashing even white teeth. “Pardon? No.” He rested his hands on the spotless table. “We’ve sent out requests for information leading to a missing wolf-shifter and expect results soon. Also, since there was a full moon last night and Maggie turned into a wolf and not a werewolf, I believe she’s not a werewolf.” He pinned the doctor with a sharp silver gaze. “And thus the Council need not be notified at this time.”

  Man, Dage was smooth. A true diplomat who carried a big stick. Cara gave him a smile.

  Jordan leaned forward and showed his own sharp teeth. “Maggie is under the protection of my Pride. Period.”

  Not so smooth, but just as effective. And deadly.

  The doctor swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple jogging up and down in his scrawny neck. “As you both wish.” He stood, shuffling toward the door. “For now.”

  Several hours later, the earth pressed in and Cara pretended trees filled the room, their soft leaves cascading to fall around her as she lay in the huge bed. There was no real plant life in the Washington facility, damn it. She rolled onto her side, her imagination inhaling the fresh oxygen from the tall cottonwoods. Where was Talen? He said he’d be to bed soon.

  They’d spent the day in the lab trying to decipher the lab results. No luck. Finally, after a late dinner of chicken casserole, she’d headed to bed while Talen remained to plot strategy with Dage. Several hours ago. He should be done by now.

  She shifted onto her back. What the hell was going on? Now she needed him next to her in order to sleep? That wouldn’t do.

  Yet she couldn’t prevent her sigh of relief when he finally stalked into their room, dropping his clothes on the way to the bed. Heat and spicy pine enveloped her a second before his hard body wrapped around her.

  “Why are you still awake?” he mumbled into her hair.

  She shrugged, her shoulders bouncing off his chest. “Dunno.” She yawned, her jaw cracking. “Maybe I’m worried about Maggie. What if she almost shifts into a were again tonight?” She hadn’t thought about Maggie all night—she knew better than to lie to herself.

  Talen placed a soft kiss on her ear. “No worries. Weres only shift on the one night of the full moon—the rest is urban legend.” His arm banded around Cara’s waist tugged her even closer. “Now go to sleep—you need rest.”

  “Why are we underground?” she asked as her eyes fluttered shut.

  “For safety.” His breath caressed her ear and she fought a shiver of awareness. Of need.

  “But your sworn enemy can’t venture into the sunlight. I’d think you’d live in glass houses in Florida.” Geez—weren’t vampires rational, or what?

  He chuckled. “That was one consideration. But most of our enemies have powers that aren’t obvious, teleporting, telekinesis, psychic abilities—the earth protects us from someone on the surface using those against us.”

  “But you can use those skills once you’re underground against each other or anyone else down here.”

  “Sure. Now go to sleep.”

  She may have mumbled something, letting his warmth caress her into oblivion.

  The dream claimed Cara easily after the exhausting day. Her father chased her throughout the forest near their home—he was really going to kill her this time. His large, stumbling footsteps hit the hard, packed earth on her trail, and even as drunk as he was, he would be able to catch her if he saw her.

  “You little bitch,” he screamed as thick boots destroyed low-laying branches. Ten-year-old Cara’s scraped, dirty feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned to track his progress, hidden behind a thick blackberry bush as the full moon illuminated the brawny man coming after her. His buttoned shirt was torn across the big belly that had turned to fat, and his beefy hands clenched into hard fists as he scoured the trees with feverish eyes. His red bloated face contorted in rage. “I knew the devil had claimed you—just like your bitch of a sister.”

  Cara cringed as his harsh voice rang through the forest, trying to keep from shivering from the bite of the cool fall night. The trees stood eerily silent around her, all wildlife knowing to keep still. She watched warily as he turned and headed down a worn path, all the while screaming for her to show herself before he had to go back and kill her sister. Even in her terror, Cara smiled. She had given Emma plenty of time to get out of their beaten down house and to safety for the rest of the night, if they could just make it until he passed out from the booze, they’d live another day. They’d repeated the mantra to each other more than once. Her brow furrowed as she prayed Mama had let Emma lead her away this time. Otherwise, if he was still alert enough when he returned, he’d take it out on Mama.

  The trees formed a thick canopy over her, and the bushes shielded her from view. The forest and plant life provided shelter and safety.

  She lost track of time sitting on the cold earth. Soon her knees trembled and an ache rose through her skin. Finally, the birds started to chirp around her, proving the threat had ended, at least for the night. With a cry, she stumbled over to a large tree trunk and sank down to the packed forest floor before burying her face in her knees and letting the sobs come. Guilt, maybe shame, hurt wo
rse than the fear.

  She hadn’t understood why Emma always seemed to make him mad. On purpose. She had thought he hit them because Emma made him angry. Tonight was the first time, with the wisdom of a ten-year-old, that she saw what Emma was doing. And why. Her older sister had been purposefully putting herself in the way of his beefy hands so he would hit her instead of Cara. Instead of Mama. She had cowered in the tiny kitchen corner as Daddy had advanced on Emma with a knife in his dangerous hand.

  “If I kill you, little girl,” her father had hissed at Emma, “then who will protect these other two? Hmm? Do you think I don’t know why you’re the first to jump in my path? Do you think I’m stupid?” he screamed and a vein stood out on his neck, his face flushed full with booze and rage.

  “I know you’re stupid,” twelve-year-old Emma yelled back, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth from his last hit as she steadied herself against the worn yellow cabinets. “And I also know the devil will be here for you soon.”

  Cara had no defense against the wave of rage that crashed from her father—she tried so hard to block his feelings, his demons, but sometimes they were too strong. Maybe he was right. Maybe the devil had infected her with the ability. Her eyes widened as he lumbered across the plain dirt floor, so big, so strong toward her sister, who was so small. And brave.

  Emma’s black hair curled disheveled around her pale face, a dark bruise already forming on her chin and deep blue eyes flashing with hate. And fear.

  It was the fear that did it. Cara jumped from her crouch and collided with her father before sinking her teeth into the arm holding the knife. The knife clambered to the floor and with a bellow, he swung his arm, throwing her across the kitchen into the cabinets. Pain rocked through her shoulder up to her head, and she fought back a sob. She leapt to her feet. “She’s right, Daddy. I had a vision. You’re going to die and go to hell. Soon.” Then, she ran out the kitchen door for the forest as the closest thing to the devil imaginable chased after her.

  Finally, leaning against the hard bark, she sobbed as she fought to get rid of his rage that had filled her. It wasn’t hers. She shouldn’t have to feel the black hatred, she shouldn’t have to feel the blinding urge to kill her own sister. It wasn’t fair. And she wouldn’t do it again. The sobs rose as her small shoulders shuddered with the pain.

  Chapter 27

  “Darlin’, wake up,” Talen’s voice stayed low and soothing as his breath stirred her hair and his arms tightened around her in the big bed. “Wake up now, Cara.” Well, this explained some things. Trees and plants had rescued her once, now she rescued them.

  She jolted awake, freezing in place. Under his arm, her heart leapt into a rapid staccato and her fear slammed into him with icy fingers of pain. He pulled it in, refusing to even consider blocking her. It took her a moment, several actually, until her breath evened out. Then she buried her face in the tense column of his neck and keened.

  Her pain was palpable even without their connection. He had to muster every ounce of strength in his formidable will to remain calm, to run his large hand down her shuddering back, to deny the anger, the need for violence vibrating for release beneath his skin. That beat with sharpened claws to get out. He felt each shudder of breath, each falling tear, as a physical slice through his own heart, bleeding frustration and anger into his very soul. There wasn’t a monster alive he couldn’t protect her from—nothing existed he wouldn’t stand before and defeat to assure her safety. He was Talen Kayrs, the military leader of the most powerful beings in existence, and he had earned the title. Through wits, battle, and victory.

  And now he was helpless.

  He blocked his thoughts, his rage, as he comforted her, wincing at the delicacy of the fragile bones he caressed. The brand on his palm burned with a fury matched only in his soul. She was his mate and now gained strength from him. And power. But when she needed him, when she had neither strength nor power, he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t protected her. The failure suffocated him with a weight he hadn’t thought possible.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Tear-filled blue eyes raised to his as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. “There was no way for you to have known, Talen.” Now she rubbed soothing circles into his tense flesh.

  He covered his surprise that she had maneuvered past his emotional block and dropped his forehead to hers while his eyes swam with emotion. “I’m sorry, mate.”

  Cara shook her head. “As powerful as you are, even you cannot control the entire universe and all its beings. I don’t think you’re supposed to.”

  “Sure I am.” His arrogance brought the smile to her lips he needed so desperately to see. To feel.

  “I’m so cold, Talen.” She pressed further into him, one leg sliding between his and pressing up against his groin. He was naked and his reaction immediate as he hardened against her. “Warm me up.” She leaned in and licked from his collar bone to the underside of his jaw while pressing herself harder into him.

  His mind struggled for cohesion as his body heated and hardened. They needed to talk, and control was an illusion for them both right now. “Not a good idea, sweetheart. Your dream cut into us both.” His emotions had reached a volatile level that he needed hours of rest to subdue. She couldn’t have any idea of what she invited.

  “Please Talen,” her breathy voice whispered sweet air in his ear.

  “Cara, for once heed my warning. Sleep now, we’ll talk more tomorrow.” A clamoring took up residence in his balls, and he considered a cold shower.

  “No.” She nipped his earlobe none too gently, and he was lost. With a swift movement he shifted and settled back while yanking her on top of him, and one hand ripped her shirt over her head. His movements threw her off balance and she gasped, gripping his hips with her thighs to right herself. Her smooth flesh around his own tempted him far more than he liked. She moved startled eyes to his as he casually, easily put one broad hand behind his head and relaxed back into the thick bed.

  “Take what you want, mate,” he dared her with a rough voice.

  She licked her lips, and her eyes darted to his chest. He forced a calmness to his demeanor but feared she could feel the tumultuous emotions ripping through him.

  Cara smiled. His control was impressive as hell. He dared her to make him lose it. And the girl who had been so paralyzed with fright a few minutes ago thrilled at the challenge, at the dare that she take his formidable power and make it hers. She lifted her lids in what could only be termed a sultry look that turned to triumph as he jerked against her in response. He leashed the growl low in his belly but she wasn’t fooled.

  “Just how long do you think you can restrain yourself?” she purred as her nails scored down his chest, over his dark nipples to pull on the trail of hair leading from his flat belly to heaven. Muscles clenched beneath her teasing hands. She pressed her core harder into the hard line of his erection, feeling safe with her cotton panties still in place.

  “I could have them off you before you blinked.” It was his turn to purr. And his turn for triumph as liquid heat spilled from her and warmed him even through the cloth as his words caressed her. She had forgotten he visited her head. He had warned her of his lack of control and something deep inside her, something feminine and powerful, wanted to destroy it completely.

  “But then you’d lose,” she reminded him as a heated flush rose from her chest into her neck, and her pelvis tilted against him with a mind of its own.

  “Hardly,” he retorted with an unreadable grin. “But since you wish to play, how about I promise I won’t move my hands until you beg me to do so?”

  Now arrogance flowed through her. “It’s a bet.” She ignored the flicker of warning whispering across her awareness that she had no idea what she unleashed. On purpose.

  Talen shook his head, his eyes lightening to burnished teak. “Darlin’, you should never underestimate me, a lesson I assume you’d have learned by now.” His voice was calm but his body had begun to vibrate just enoug
h to tempt her womb.

  “Have I underestimated you, mate?” She rocked her hips against his fullness before running her own hands up her abdomen, over her breasts and through her hair.

  Talen’s blood leapt in response and the arm behind his head started to move before he furiously held himself in check. Her pink nipples pouted at him while nectar flowed unchecked from her; she was the most feminine creature he had ever imagined, and she tempted him.

  Her laugh was a tactical error she would later regret. It awoke a dominance in him he had thought controlled, he had thought checked. She wasn’t paying attention to his thoughts, to his drives, or she would have been cautioned. She would have regrouped. But she was busy playing, and the beast within him smiled. Then it set out to teach her a lesson.

  Cara gasped as a warmth slammed into her at the base of her neck before flowing unchecked through her breasts, teasing, tightening them from within. Yet he hadn’t moved a muscle. The unbearable ache hardened her nipples to diamond-sharp points. She needed something. Needed more. What was he doing to her? How?

  Her eyes flew open on a startled gasp to see the green flecks light hard and flash full through the gold of his—his expression both merciless and promising. He watched her as the heat built in her chest before sliding, flowing south toward her core only to wrap around her to her backside and heat that as well.

  With a cry, she pushed harder into his heated length as the fire moved around to pool in her womb while his eyes held hers. Kept hers. Taunting hers with what he did to her body. From within. Pure arrogance lit his features. His force, his power, caressed, teased, and tempted her from within her own skin, within her own heart.