Promise blinked. “You’re saying that this might be dangerous?”
“Probably not. I mean, the king stepped down, and who knows where he is right now. Niall was a butthead, but he’s a better jumper than I am, to be honest. I don’t think we’ll find trouble, but if we do, I thought I should warn you.”
The temptation to move through dimensions was too much to resist. Promise held on tighter. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Ivar stalked out of an uncomfortable meeting with Zane Kyllwood, his ears ringing and his gut aching. Kyllwood was less than pleased that the Seven had recruited his brother, and he’d wanted to make sure Ivar knew he’d be eviscerated if anything happened to Logan. The good thing was that Ivar felt as strongly as Zane did about Logan’s safety. About all his brothers, actually.
In Ivar’s current mood, mating Promise that night didn’t seem like a good idea. He’d have to distract her with the plans he’d just arranged with the Queen of the Realm for everyone to undergo MRIs that would test the teleporting zones in their brains. The queen had been beyond delighted at the idea, and he could see why Emma and Faith had built such a fast and quick friendship. He’d like to get Promise inserted in their group, just in case he died when he took over for Quade. It’d be nice to leave her with friends.
He reached their suite and called out her name, surprised at the empty feel of the place. A quick search confirmed she was nowhere to be found.
Perhaps she’d gone looking for food. He retraced his steps and found a kitchen, where Logan was munching on chocolate chip cookies and looking around. “Hey.”
Logan glanced up. “Hey. Where have you been?”
“Your brother has been yelling at me,” Ivar said. “Well, not yelling, but threatening some pretty impressive and anatomically impossible revenge if anything happens to you.”
Logan kept chewing. “Must be Zane. Sam doesn’t threaten. He just kills somebody and says they should’ve seen it coming.”
Ivar liked both of Logan’s biological brothers. “Fair enough.”
Logan threw him a cookie. “I’m sorry about Zane. Sometimes he thinks we’re still teenagers running from our asshole of an uncle.”
“No problem,” Ivar said, scratching his neck. It was tingling again, damn it. “Have you seen Promise?”
“Nope, and I just looked through the entire headquarters for Mercy. Didn’t see either one of them.” Logan straightened. “Oh, man. That is not a good sign.”
Ivar finished his cookie. “They must be here somewhere.” Promise wouldn’t have left the area without speaking to him.
Logan exhaled slowly. “If those two found each other, they’re halfway around the world right now.” His lips compressed in a thin line. “At least, they’d better be on this world.” He dusted off his hands. “In fact, I believe I asked my mate to stay close since we’re in lockdown right now. The world is unsafe. And there’s a pissed-off Fae jackass out there who can teleport and likes to take Cyst soldiers with him.”
Ivar shook his head, even as his blood thinned. “They wouldn’t have teleported out of here. Not without saying a word.”
Logan just cocked his head.
Ivar closed his eyes and counted backward from ten. Nope. Didn’t help. He reopened them. Fire crackled through him, engulfing the control he’d tried so fucking hard to learn these last three months. Like a whisper, it disappeared. He slammed his fist on the counter, and the marble cracked down the middle. “Tell me you’ve developed the skill most mates have to talk telepathically to each other.”
“Sure,” Logan said. “Just tried. Nothing. You know what that means?”
“She’s pissed and is ignoring you for some reason?” Ivar asked, his hand hurting as if he’d taken a blade to it.
“Nope. She’s off-world. Not here. Anywhere on earth, I can reach her.” Logan moved toward Ivar, cutting through the kitchen with long strides. “And I can’t reach her right now.”
A cold sweat broke out on Ivar’s forehead. His last time off-world had lasted an eternity and scarred impenetrable skin. The savage beast at his core, hard to restrain under the best of circumstances, stretched wide awake with almost a gleeful swelling of anticipation. He shook out his hand, even as the flames licked up his arm. Slowly, his chin lowering, he flipped his wrist over.
Logan whistled. “Huh. Well. There you go.”
Ivar stared down at the raw branding mark on his right palm. His left one was already a scarred mess from the Seven rituals he’d endured; surprisingly, the brand on the right palm hurt more than those ever had. Maybe because it was unused and wanted to change that status immediately. It pulsed, heated and alive.
Logan moved closer. “The Kjeidsen marking. I’ve never seen one. That’s seriously badass.”
Ivar’s eyes saw but his brain didn’t compute. Not yet. “Kallgren,” he corrected. “My mother’s side was the demon part of my family—they were Kallgrens.” Demons, not vampires, branded their mates.
“Of course,” Logan said. “I forgot. Same with us. It’s odd that both of my parents had K for their surname. You too.”
Ivar could only stare at his palm. The dark K was surrounded by sinuous knots that crested out like waves from the ocean—the lines darker and thicker than the Kayrs marking. His ears heated, and the blood rushed through them louder than his heartbeat. “Well.”
Logan clapped him on the back. “Your mate is in danger. Strong emotions bring the brand out. It’s nice to know, isn’t it?” His voice remained calm as if he was trying to help Ivar find his balance. Just as he’d done months ago.
Ivar looked up. “Know what?”
“That Promise is your mate. You didn’t have to force the marking or anything.” Logan’s expression sobered. “That’s a good thing, Viking.”
Just how much danger was Promise in? She was too delicate—too human—to survive a hell world. Ivar grabbed Logan’s arm. “Tell me you can track Mercy through other worlds.” Most demons couldn’t, but hadn’t Logan gained the ability after mating Mercy? Ivar couldn’t think straight right now as memories of hell smashed into him.
“Of course I can track her. She’s my mate.” Logan took a deep breath, exhaled, and the world spun away.
* * * *
Light and the smell of freshly baked snickerdoodle cookies impacted Promise first. Soft grass covered her tennis shoes, while three suns shone down, almost gently. She stepped back, her eyes wide, her heart bursting. “Where are we?” Bubbling brooks surrounded them as they stood in the midst of a wide meadow.
Mercy smiled, delight in her eyes. “One of my favorite places. I call it Brookville and have spent days here lounging around. There are no animals, and for some reason, the grass doesn’t get any higher.”
Incredible. Promise’s legs gave out, and she sank to the gentle ground. “Have you been here at night?”
“Sure.” Mercy sat and crossed her legs. “The constellations didn’t look familiar.”
Promise looked up. She really needed to come back at night. “What does the sky look like at night?”
Mercy closed her eyes as if trying to remember. “Maybe some distant planets but no moons or anything. Not like our moon.”
This was magnificent. Promise forced herself to breathe normally. “What is that smell?”
“It’s from the grass,” Mercy said. “The air is a little lighter too.”
“So is the gravity,” Promise said, lifting her hand. “It’s not as strong as at home.” Home. The word meant something different to her now. She reached for the devices, and they confirmed her visual solutions. They were not on her planet. How wondrous. Truly so.
Mercy stood. “Want to go somewhere else?”
“Yes.” Promise followed suit. “That felt different from when we teleported on earth. It was darker somehow. And the pressure more intense.” Before,
she’d felt weightlessness. This time, she felt as if she had been moving. If they went to another world, would she sense a different direction? Every point on a graph had a location. “Show me.”
“Okay.” Mercy grabbed her hand again, and the smell of cookies evaporated. The darkness was the same, but she could swear she twisted three times and then moved in a leftish direction. They landed on a green pod in the center of a purple body of water.
Promise clutched Mercy’s hand. “What is in the water?”
“Dunno,” Mercy said. “I’ve been here a dozen times and have never seen anything. Doesn’t mean something isn’t lurking, though.” She grinned.
Promise chuckled and surveyed the readings on her devices before looking around. This place had one sun that was a bright orange color. It was far enough away to give warmth but not burn. “Are there places without stars?”
“Yep, but most are too cold to be habitable. Though there are a few that remain warm,” Mercy said, taking the barometer and compass again.
Promise held her tighter. “Where to next?”
The air shimmered.
What in the world?
Two hard male bodies split the day, landing on the pod. It bounced a few times and then settled, sending waves of purple across the water, submerging several other pods.
Mercy sighed. “Ah, crap.”
Logan’s smile wasn’t anything close to sweet. His eyes blazed a deep green. “I believe I asked you not to go off-world for the time being, mate.”
Ivar didn’t say a word. His eyes glittered, and his jaw looked as if it had been chiseled from the diamond shield she used to protect her brain.
For once, Promise didn’t know what to say. Caution overruled logic. How riveting.
“Logan?” Ivar asked quietly, hauling Promise into his side so quickly she didn’t have time to protest.
“Yep. Don’t move, Mercy. I’ll be right back.” Logan tackled Ivar, and darkness surrounded them. Promise was jostled more, and she made a mental note that Mercy’s teleporting was much smoother than anybody else’s for some reason, right before landing on an outcropping of rocks with the sun going down. She shivered.
Logan released them. “See ya tomorrow morning.”
“Wait,” Ivar said. His gaze was hot enough to melt chocolate. “Promise? Do you still want me to mate you?” The low rasp of his voice echoed through the quiet forest at their backs.
Why did those words sound like a threat? She tried to swallow over a lump in her throat. When all else fails, use honesty. No matter how irritated or frightening he was being at the moment, she’d already reached her decision, and the path was one she had freely chosen. “Yes. I do.”
Ivar nodded at Logan, who grinned. Then he was gone.
Promise backed away and inhaled the strong scent of pine. The trees towered high around them, and the rising moon showed they were back on earth. “Where are we?”
“My cabin.” Ivar pointed behind her.
She turned to see a quaint cabin built into the rocks. In the distance she could see mountains. A bird squawked nearby, and somewhere far off, a coyote howled. She shivered. “I see.”
“Do you?” he asked mildly, taking her hand and starting up the rock steps.
She had no choice but to follow, unless she wanted to fall. So she scrambled to keep up with him. His hand nearly burned her, the skin rough. It was his good hand. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No,” he said shortly, turning and releasing her before holding his palm up toward her.
She gulped. Graceful and deadly black lines formed a shield around a K on his palm. His marking. The brand was stunningly beautiful. Stark and exquisite. “When did that appear?”
He took her hand again to start walking again, and the marking warmed her palm. “When I’d discovered you’d gone off world.”
She endeavored to calm her pulse and reason with him at the same time. A discussion would be beneficial. “It’s my understanding that to mate, we need to engage in sex, you must bite me, and then press your palm to my skin.”
He paused at the heavy-looking door, which appeared to be metal painted in a manner to appear like wood. “That’s what the experience might read like in a dictionary.”
His words were calm, but the voice issuing them was raspy with the threat of danger.
She swallowed. Her legs trembled as if they knew something her brain did not. “Yes, I, ah, have decided that the marking should be placed on my center back.” She did not have tattoos, and in that location the marking would be easy to cover, even in a swimsuit, should she so desire.
He flipped her around so quickly she yelped. “I’ll put the marking where I goddamn want. You’re lucky I don’t plaster it to your forehead.” His eyes had turned that luminous green, which probably blended with the forest—just like a true predator.
She tried to quell her anxious stomach. Even with the panic, heat glided over her skin, beneath her muscles, to tempt her nerves. Why she found his fury at her arousing, she’d have to analyze later. “You’re angry.”
He exhaled through his nose, his chest moving sharply. “Angry doesn’t come close to what I’m feeling.”
Her own anger finally decided to appear. “Well, then. Maybe we shall wait until you’re more amenable to mate.”
He stepped into her, putting her back flush with the impenetrable door. His chin lowered, and then his head did the same, until his mouth hovered right above hers, his gaze burning into her eyes. “Oh, baby. It’s way too late for that.” Then he took her mouth.
Hard.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ivar kissed her, pouring all his pent-up emotions into the act. She’d scared the shit out of him by traveling off-world with a crazy fairy, and then she wanted to be all logical about mating? There wasn’t any logic in mating, damn it. If she wanted him, she was going to get all of him. His mouth was fierce, and he took what he wanted, conveying to her exactly how much control he’d shown with her. Until now.
He sensed her move, felt her hands come up with her nails already raking his chest and angling toward his face. Without breaking his hold on her mouth, he manacled her wrists, forcing her harder against the door. Sweeping his tongue inside her mouth, nearly groaning at her sweet taste, he pulled her hands above her head and pinned them in place.
Her tongue met his, and she kissed him back.
Even so, she struggled against his hold, twisting her hips. No doubt so her knee could take out his balls.
A rational voice in the back of his head, one he’d cultivated the last three months as he clawed his way from the depth of darkness to an almost life, told him to release her. Yelled at him that the soft professor shouldn’t be mauled by an animal like him. Just as he almost let that voice take hold, Promise groaned. Softly and sweetly.
That sound slid from her chest, through her throat, and into his mouth.
Every still living nerve he had flamed into a hunger so raw it burned. In that second, more so than any other, the voice of reason was flattened and shut off. All that remained was the creature inside him that he truly was. That he’d always be.
He lifted his head, gratified to see her eyes unfocused and filled with need. “You like routine, and you fucking love rules. So let’s get a few straight right now.”
She blinked, confusion wrinkling her eyes.
“Yes. Rules for you. As my mate.” He didn’t give one whit that she’d been on her own most of her life. That had just changed. “There will be no teleporting without me. There will be absolutely zero teleporting off of this world until we make sure it’s safe to do so, and even then, you will not go without me in front of you.” He slid his hand into her hair, jerked, and held her head in place.
She sucked in air while her sexy neck elongated, a vein pulsing rapidly in it. “Ivar—”
“In the likely event that
I end up taking Quade’s place, I will return. Don’t know how or when, but I’ll be back. While I’m gone”—he tightened his hold, and her eyes widened—“you will obey the rules the entire time. You can continue being theoretical until I return. That’s the path you chose, and you’ll stay on it.” If nothing else, he had to keep her safe. If they mated, it was his duty and his right.
He expected an argument. A logical, probably irritated, explanation of why he was wrong.
Instead, her gaze darkened. “Or what?” she whispered.
It was a challenge of the most primitive of sort, and he felt it to his battered soul. He knew this woman. She followed logic over safety and experimentation over health. But, without a doubt, she knew no other way than to be loyal and honest. And he knew exactly how to secure her agreement. “There is no ‘or what.’” He leaned in, and her breath caught. “You will obey me because that’s what you’ll agree to do.”
Her nails bit through the skin of his shoulders, right above his torso shield as if she knew exactly where to strike. “Humans have evolved past that,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to his lips.
“You might have. We haven’t,” he said, pressing his raging cock against her softness.
A tremble that he could feel wound through her legs. Color slid up beneath her dusky skin. “Are we going inside?”
“Yes.” He pushed open the door, keeping his hold firm and her attention on him. He’d wanted to follow her path of logic, and he’d wanted to allow her naïveté about him and his people to remain. But it wasn’t possible. Not if he wanted to keep her safe. He moved then, backing her into the main room of the cabin, automatically lifting his nose and searching for threats.
She grabbed his flanks to keep from falling. When they’d finally stopped in the middle of the room, she slid her hands over his abs. “So. Any threats here?”
He liked that she was so attuned to him. That she knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, she was about to know him a hell of a lot better. “Just me, Professor.”
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