Col: His Destined Mate

by Georgette St. Clair

  And froze.

  A few yards away from her, with only Col’s body in between, were two enormous, furred animals the size of ponies.

  Except ponies didn’t look like vicious wolves, with their canines showing. Their eyes were trained right at the terrified but tasty snack that Lily was.

  It was unnatural. Time stood still. Col wasn’t moving. His muscles were coiled with tension, but it wasn’t from fear. As big as Col was, that was a mega-sized monster. Times two. So why wasn’t Col scared?

  Instead, he seemed….pissed.

  She didn’t get it, couldn’t wrap her mind around this insanity that was happening around her right now. Couldn’t take her eyes off of what was sure to be a horrific, painful death, with the sheer size of the canines that each animal sported.

  Which one would get her first, she wondered, although that was like deciding which deck to hang out in on the Titanic. Apparently her near death experience was going to consist of making nonsensical choices. The big black wolf with the curly fur on the left, or the huge brown and white wolf on the—

  Suddenly it all clicked together.

  Where she had seen them before. Sort of.

  She could hear the excited voices of the twins, as they proudly showed their drawings.

  “Merek?” Her voice had a slight tremble. Well of course. She was scared shitless. And hallucinating. “Barric?”

  The two wolves dipped their heads, as if in acknowledgment, and her mind was on a two second delay processing that, as all of a sudden, they started to move.

  Towards her.

  It was a good thing for his Bredhren that they couldn’t read his thoughts right now, otherwise they would be blasted with every expletive Col knew. Although Barric was probably immune, as he had taught Col most of them.

  Col should have realized from the discussion earlier that Barric and Merek would think nothing of revealing themselves in wolf form to Katie. In fact, they probably made a point of it, given their stance in whether or not she should be told.

  His fists clenched at Barric’s readiness to take on the role of mate-bonding with Katie if Col wasn’t willing to. But he stayed himself, because the decision to tell or not to tell, or even when, was taken from him. And what was happening now was critical.

  She had called them by name. She knew. But what next?

  The two Bredhren ran up to Katie, still frozen behind him. He would not have let them approach if they meant her harm. Nay, he would not have let them live if they posed a danger.

  He needed to see how she would react to them. And then to him.

  Barric, that steaming piece of dung, was sniffing and rubbing his head against her. Merek, the rotting canker sore, was pushing his head against her as well. Col’s knuckles tightened under the strain.

  But then Katie lifted her hand…and tentatively began stroking their fur, scratching first Merek, then Barric behind their ears, underneath their chins. Merek’s tail was wagging like a pup, and Barric started licking Katie’s hand.

  That was enough.

  Col let out a loud growl and Katie looked up at him in surprise. The two got the hint, though, and with short barks that he knew were laughs, they shot off in unison into the dense growth of the woods.

  Leaving Col alone with Katie, and the questions that filled her eyes.

  “It’s not just Barric and Merek, is it, Col?” she asked. He couldn’t read her expression. Was she looking at him differently? He didn’t know what to say, the words stuck in his ever-tightening throat.

  And then she took his hands into her smaller ones. And kissed his knuckles, much as he would hers.

  “Are you one as well?”

  Goddess, she was not disgusted, or fleeing him with fear. He nodded mutely, still not trusting himself to speak.

  “And Aylwyn? Tybalt? Simon?”

  He grimaced at the sound of Aylwyn’s name. What a cruelty, if she was accepting of their Shiftwere natures, but still preferred the blond Waryeor. He cleared his throat.

  “Aye, but not Simon. Nor Miller Armstrong.”

  “Ah,” she said. And was silent.

  “Do you— do you wish to be with Aylwyn?” There was a snarl in his voice that he couldn’t hide.

  “Aylwyn? Why would you think I want to be with Aylwyn?” Her eyes were filled with incredulity, and she squeezed his hands. “Col, look at me.”

  He forced himself to raise his head, and meet her intense gaze.

  “I like all of you, and Aylwyn was the first to make me feel comfortable, but that’s not the same as the feelings I have for you, Col. I—” She blinked, her lashes tapping against her cheeks as she tried to find the right words. “You make me feel precious and desired, and beautiful, Col. Only you.”

  The lightness that filled him at that moment threatened to lift him up and fly him into the celestial firmament itself.

  “Let me show you how precious and desired and beautiful you are, Katie Cooper, or Lily.”

  He liked using that private name with her. Only you, Col. He did not know the power of hearing those words from a woman. And not just any woman. From Lily. His Lily.

  She tugged at him, pulling him down to sit on a soft patch of long grass beside her. He folded her into him, marveling anew at how well she fit.

  “That’s part of the reason why you’re here, living with Simon, isn’t it?” Katie—no, Lily, his Lily asked.

  “Yes,” Col’s arm was wrapped around her, his thumb stroking the bare skin of her arm. “We are from another time, from a country which has been lost even to legend. Simon has surmised that our era corresponds to roughly a millennium.”

  He gave her time to let that sink in. She had not grown up in a world where Magicks were the rule, not the exception, and it was already an upheaval for her to accept his true nature. And truth be told, he knew little details about the Magicks that had transpired to bring him here.

  He only knew that she was here now, still in his arms, and that was the only Magicks in the moment that mattered for him.

  “That explains the way you speak English, and the tough time you’ve been having getting used to modern life,” his Lily mused. “But you all speak differently.”

  “We have only been awakened for roughly six months,” Col said. “And the five of us were drawn from different tribes, with different tongues. There was only one manner of speech that we held in common, but it was the language of nobility, courtly words that did not lend itself readily to the needs of the everyday.”

  Lily nodded. It was a little bit like the preschoolers that she had before, from households where different languages were spoken. She imagined what it must have been like for them, to arrive in this culture and needing to assimilate quickly.

  “At the beginning, the only way we could communicate was in our wolven forms, where we can speak to one another with our minds.” Col remembered those early days. They had not been a War-Pack prior to being enchanted. But upon waking up, they quickly shifted once they realized that they were a collection of five different dialects in human form.

  And the irony of Barric, the outcast from his tribe, being the one who could best communicate telepathically with the others.

  “You can read minds when you’re…when you’re in wolf form?”

  “Only the minds of other Waryeors, and only if part of the same War-Pack,” Col explained. “We know not why, but it has e’er been so among Waryeors.” He stroked her arm some more. There were so many ways to communicate without words, he thought. And what he had been experiencing with his Lily was by far the most pleasurable one.

  “Are you…do you look like Barric and Merek in your wolf form?”

  “My coloring is much like the members of my tribe, which you see in my hair right now.” Col said. “But if you wish, I can show you my wolf.” He made as if to get up, but Lily’s hand pressed on him.

  “No.” He was puzzled, but settled back in his spot, her weight a comfort against his. “I mean, I do, eventually, but it’s a lot to ta
ke in right now. And you can’t talk in wolf form, so I’d rather we…that you’re able to, while I’m still processing all this.”

  “As you wish.” Col understood. Besides, he was enjoying having her in his very human arms.

  “But how is it that you all speak English now, and so differently from one another?”

  “Simon only knew a single phrase in the ancient language of nobility.” Col said. He remembered the syllables that Simon had intoned that day, when they had encountered him and Miller Armstrong for the very first time.

  “But he and Miller Armstrong instantly set about giving us as much exposure to the language they used as possible. He had materials from the Medieval Faire, although he did not know yet that we were from an earlier time. And he also had moving pictures—I mean, television and movies—playing for us.” Which Aylwyn took to as a cold man in winter to a lit fire in a hearth, followed by the rest of his Bredhren. Col had been the least able to adapt to the various forms of speech that accompanied the similarly bizarre manner of dress and behavior in the shows which Aylwyn favored.

  “Ah yes, television,” Lily laughed. “And I can see now why there’s a varying blend of all these influences in how you all speak. Plus, I’m sure it must have been very difficult to get used to everything around you, to modern life.” She leaned further into him, and he breathed in her delicious scent of nighttime blossoms.

  “The first six months, Miller Armstrong also trained us so we could adapt to being Waryeors in this time,” Col said, remembering how the older man had earned their respect by shaping the five disparate Waryeors into more of a cohesive military unit, and introducing them to the arrays of modern combat styles. “To him we owe a great deal for how we are now, and of course to young Simon as well.”

  “You had mentioned not being susceptible—of being free of human disease.” Lily recalled their previous conversation. “What other differences are there?”

  “Waryeors are able to heal faster, especially in our wolf forms.” Col explained. “When we are in War-Packs, we may also channel healing energy from the group as a whole to aid in our healing, although currently Merek is the most adept at directing that energy.”

  “But what exactly do you heal from, and what are the limits?”

  A lifetime of conditioning gave Col pause. A Waryeor never revealed his vulnerabilities. But this was his Lily, asking a natural question, in an attempt to understand him and his kind better. His Lily, who was very likely his biggest vulnerability of all.

  “I only have knowledge from other Waryeors of our time. Collected wisdom of the types of wounds that could be inflicted with less permanence, and which would visit upon the Waryeor scars or even death.” Col pressed his lips tightly. “But that was from a time afore the armament that exist now, weaponry the likes of which were not even envisaged by the most powerful of Mages.”

  Lily nodded. “I pray that you — that all of you — never need to find out first hand, then.”

  “Miller is training us in their usage,” Col said. He hoped that she would not ask for what they were fighting against. He knew little beyond the likelihood that the enemy had awakened as well, which he would share. But he would prefer that Tybalt, as the Vixar, would be the one to provide the information, as needed, should Lily ask. As a Waryeor, he only concerned himself with the orders he was given. Or at least he used to.

  He idly stroked her arms, feather-light touches with his fingertips, and she shivered, burrowing herself into the solidity of his body further.

  “I am not desirous of holding any more secrets from you, fair Lily,” Col murmured into her hair. And smiled. “And I hope that you wouldst tell me of your magickal nature as well.”

  “Not to my knowledge—”Lily started to say, and then laughed, the tinkling sound as music to his ears. “Col, did you just make a joke? Tonight really is a night of marvels, isn’t it?”

  Col’s spirit soared. She made him feel light-hearted, so much so that he was making japes. He turned her gently around so that he could touch her face, her lips which parted easily.

  “And I wish to continue filling this night with marvels for you, fair Lily.” Col said huskily. A wave of her scent reached him, a blend of nighttime blossoms and arousal. There was an addition—his own scent had come forth. One that he had not emitted before. It spoke of possession, of ownership, of marking. It had to be, he realized, an initial step in mate-bonding.

  The air between them suddenly was charged.

  Her breath hitched as his hand glided down her side. He pressed his arousal against her, and she moaned softly. He bent down to take possession of her mouth, and she arced into his kiss, welcoming him in as she spread her fingers across the broad expanse of his back.

  They met together frantically, as if the night’s revelation had brought them to a more urgent need to connect, on every level. He, to revel in the freeing knowledge that she accepted him, his true nature, and the reality of his past. And perhaps for her, it was as she had told him. That it was only Col who had ever brought her pleasure, who had ever worshipped her as he was compelled to do. As he was doing now.

  Her dress and undergarments had been discarded, and he was now suckling at one rosy peak, her hands pulling at his muscles, as she tensed with pleasure. Her soft panting and moans were letting him know that his hand had reached the liquid heat of her sex, and as he moved his fingers into the very core of her, she rolled her hips, before he felt her release.

  She screamed his name into the nighttime air as she pulsed around him. He tasted her nectar on his hands, as honeyed and sweet as he had remembered. He would never tire of its flavor.

  He plied his fingertips over her skin, enjoying the aftershocks of pleasure that rippled through her. When they had dissipated, she looked up at him through heavy lidded eyes.

  “Col.” She said his name again, languidly, and begged him to enter her. He was over her, careful not to crush her with his much larger bulk, and the blunt tip of his sex was at her entrance.

  “Col,” she said again, with more urgency. It was a command that he readily obeyed, driving in with great force as they both inhaled sharply at once. They moved together in an ancient rhythm, his harsh breaths matching the rolling of his hips, the pounding of his blood, the tight sheath that claimed his spear, until he felt the pulsing of her release. With a mighty roar, he emptied into her, holding tightly onto her as if he would never let her go.

  “Col,” she breathed.

  Mine, he thought, and he kissed her tenderly.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Lily was floating on air all morning at the Staff Childcare Center, much to TraceyAnn’s annoyance. Between Lily dreamily replaying the “best hits of” from the night before in her mind, and Luna’s perpetual effervescence, TraceyAnn was having a hard time finding people to gossip with, or at least conjure up the appropriate sounds of shared outrage for her.

  Even the twins were better behaved in general. Brady and Clover were benefitting greatly from getting all that attention each evening from the boys. They adored their uncles “Bawwic”, “Mewwic”, “Awwin”, “Teebo” and of course, Col. Even Uncle Miller and Uncle Simon were spoken of with great fondness.

  TraceyAnn tried to glean as much information as she could from the twins, but was deterred by their chatter about movies featuring talking animals that they would watch with their “uncles”.

  The only dash of reality that threatened to dissipate the clouds that Lily was walking on came about when Rika had stopped by, with the advance that Lily had forgotten that she requested.

  Lily now had the cash she needed to make that deposit at the auto repair shop. But…..somehow she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew she should drive over there, or arrange for someone to drop off the deposit for her. But of course that would set into motion the repairs that would allow her to leave.

  And of course she knew why she was dragging her heels, and it wasn’t from the aches and soreness from her amazing nights with Col. Well
, maybe partially.

  She didn’t want to go.

  But she had to. Maybe it was a coincidence that someone had asked about her car, and someone had trashed Rosa’s trailer. It was still a necessary reminder that Rey was a potential problem for her. And not one that she could drag Col, or Simon, or the rest of them into. If it was Rey, then she had already created a complication for Rosa, even if Simon was going to take care of it.

  Her thoughts were going in circles, as she fought to process the revelations of the night before. If Rey were to find out about the boys…she shuddered. It wouldn’t be past him to try to extort Simon in some way. Or just outright sell the story to the media. He was just capable of anything. She had to assume the worst about anyone that would peddle The Rage.

  Round and round her thoughts went, like a dog chasing its tail. Or a wolf.

  When the front door opened, she welcomed the distraction. Especially as it was the freckled face of someone familiar.

  “What’s going on, Jordy?” TraceyAnn looked up at the short girl wearing the Ops vest and carrying a metal clipboard.

  Jordy looked as if she was going to ignore TraceyAnn at first, scanning the room. And then her eyes lit on Lily. Jordy’s face split into a huge smile, before she answered TraceyAnn. “Puma’s having us do walk-arounds, personally checking to make sure the facilities are in shape, that all supplies have been stocked and replenished, that sort of thing.”

  TraceyAnn looked skeptical, but shrugged. “Do what you have to do, then.”

  Jordy walked towards Lily. “Hey, former roomie.”

  TraceyAnn was circling them, with a look of suspicion aimed at the Ops member, but Jordy seemed intent on talking with Lily.

  “Hi,” Lily said brightly. “How’s your promotion going?”

  “Oh, nothing to complain about,” Jordy said. “Way more responsibilities, but it’s all good. What about you, how have you been doing?”

  Lily smiled. It was so nice of her former roommate to check in on her. “Like you, no complaints.”

  TraceyAnn butted in, addressing Jordy. “You know Katie here is now working directly with Simon too.”