Blood Bearon (High House Ursa Book 5)

by Riley Storm

  “No. I have faith we will win. But it will be dangerous no matter what.” He kissed a little lower.

  “I’m supposed to be mad at you,” she countered.

  Khove smiled. Her words said one thing, but the arch of her back and the sway of her upper body said otherwise. He stifled a groan as her rear brushed back into him, naturally finding its way directly in front of his hips. So taut…so firm.

  “Let me apologize then,” he growled directly into her ear, and let his hands drop from her shoulders to explore the rest of her body. “I’m sure I can make it up to you.”

  Rach giggled at the corniness of the lines, bringing a smile to his mouth, but she didn’t stop him. The push of her hips grew stronger, a wordless, verbal acceptance of his terms.

  Khove wrapped his hands around her hips and tilted them forward, digging his thumbs deep into her lower back as she bent forward. “Is this how you normally give lower back massages?” she teased, arms outstretched in front of her, resting on the back of the couch, ass pressing back into his crotch.

  “Only for you,” he returned, digging a knuckle of his thumb in deep and running it up the left side of her spine.

  Rachel’s eyes rolled back into her head and she fell silent while he duplicated the move on the other side. “Damn, that feels really good,” she half-moaned. “I’m not sure I want you to stop, but I also want you to continue what you were working toward. Oh, the decisions.”

  He snorted playfully. “You’re so hard done by, aren’t you?”

  “First-world problems indeed. Do whatever you want to me,” she whispered, eyes closed. “Just keep your hands on me. I want to feel you.”

  Closing his hands around her waist, he pulled Rach in tight. Her hips moved from side to side with slow, purposeful precision, a beautiful agony that was making it hard for him to stay civil. All Khove wanted to do was rip the clothes from her body and ravish her. The urge was growing stronger with every passing moment, every sway of her body against his. The thunder in his chest was growing stronger.

  “Rach,” he growled, a half-protest, half-ask for permission.

  “Take me,” she moaned. “Please.”

  Khove nearly tore the shirt as he slid fingers up both sides of her ribcage, slipping the black sleeved shirt over her head, not bothering with the buttons. There was no time. He needed her.

  From there, he fumbled with her belt while Rachel let her bra fall free. Khove got the belt undone at nearly the same time, and in a handful of seconds she was naked and at his mercy.

  “Oh,” she gasped as he bent her over again, feeling the waiting wetness between her legs, and adding to it as he ran his fingers around and over her clit, gently at first, but in slowly increasing speed.

  The sight of Rachel, hands outstretched and resting on the couch, ass presented to him, and completely naked, was something Khove would never forget. There was something carnal about it. A deep-seated knowledge that by opening herself to him like this, Rachel was well and truly declaring herself his on a level neither of them truly understood.

  Rachel was clearly affected the same. If the volume of her moans, uninhibited by any thoughts of others who might hear wasn’t a sure sign, the sopping wet mess between her legs was a dead giveaway. Khove moved slightly to stand more at her side, giving himself a better angle to rub her clit.

  A hand closed around his hard cock without warning, and Khove jerked in surprise, so focused was he on not breaking the rhythm of his fingers. It was harder to concentrate with her stroking his shaft, and his forehead crinkled with effort. He was rewarded with first a single shudder, and then a violent shaking as Rachel came in his hands.

  Growling in delight, he wasted no time, stepping up behind her while she was still coming down. Rachel didn’t stop him. Quite the opposite, he watched as she wordlessly pushed her ass out just that little bit farther, an invitation for him to enter.

  He ran one hand over the soft curve of her cheeks, admiring her body, drinking in the visuals. That was what truly turned him on, watching her writhe and bounce, and listening to all the sounds she made as he pleasured his mate. There was nothing better.

  Entering her slowly, Khove teased her, staying just out of reach until she started asking for more, at which point he ever so slowly would push deeper. By the time he was all the way inside her, Rachel was a panting, moaning mess who came on his cock without any other stimulation. The simple act of filling her was enough, and Khove grabbed her hips and held on tight as she shuddered over and over again, calling out his name non-stop.

  “Khove,” she gasped one last time, falling forward to rest her shoulders on the couch. “Not sure how much longer I can stand.”

  He moved with her, the only thing keeping her up being the couch and his grip on her waist. Holding his mate still, Khove moved his hips, doing all the work. It was worth it. For Rachel, anything was worth it.

  “Apology fucking accepted!” she yelped at one point after recovering enough strength to stand on her own. Khove had used that freedom to lean over her, pushing one hand down between her legs. In a second, she came again, so hard he felt her tighten around him.

  Khove grunted, the unsuspecting pressure nearly stripping him of self-control. He’d never had this issue before, but there was something about Rachel, about being with Rachel that amplified his every nerve ending until he could barely control himself. The intensity stripped him of anything resembling true stamina, and yet, she didn’t care.

  “Harder,” Rachel gasped, pushing back against him.

  “If I do that, I’ll—”

  “Good. That’s what I want,” she said, gripping the couch harder, resisting his thrusts. “Don’t hold back.”

  Khove mentally shrugged and gave her what she wanted. His hips slapped hard into hers, and Rachel went wild. Moans became cries, wordless and worded, blending together and pulling him in until he was grunting and groaning as well, thrusting with heedless abandon against his mate.

  She shifted slightly, freeing up one arm. Khove tightened as he felt the tips of her fingers brush against him while she played with herself. “Please finish,” she begged, her body stiffening, walls tightening around his cock.

  Knowing she was at the edge as well proved to be too much for Khove, and with a roar, he exploded inside of Rachel, wave after wave of pleasure accompanying each pulse of his cock. Rachel came as well, and he drank it in, letting her climax amplify his own. Their cries drew down into moans, into soft gasping.

  Grabbing her by the waist, Khove gently brought them both to the floor, until he was laying on top of Rach, resting most of his weight on hands and knees but still deep inside her.

  “Wow,” Rachel mumbled after an unknown amount of time had passed. “That certainly was…intense.”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “I’m going to need a bit longer before I’m ready to go again after that one. That was hot.”

  Rachel giggled. “Not a problem. I need water before anything.”

  “Same. Though if it’s all the same to you, I’m not quite ready to move yet.”

  His mate laughed some more and wiggled her butt against him. “I can handle that,” she said in a soft, intimate voice.

  “I can definitely handle that.”

  Khove smiled to himself. He didn’t know what would happen during the assault on Ursidae Manor, but he would use this memory to help him ensure he came back to her.

  To his mate.

  37

  By morning, still no attack had come.

  “What is he waiting for?” she asked the hallway, no longer content to mull the question over quietly to herself.

  Rachel was on a razor’s edge. By now, she simply wanted the attack to commence, so it could either be repelled, or they could all die. She was done with the waiting, the anxiety that gnawed away at her insides with every ticking second, minute and hour that passed without anything happening.

  Khove had assured her it would happen and happen soon. That was why the alert status onl
y lasted six hours. Any more than that, and focus started to waver. They switched frequently to ensure they were always fresh.

  How much longer would it be? Didn’t shifters heal faster? How long did Korred need to regain his strength before he could attack? The lack of movement against the Manor worried her for another reason, one she hadn’t brought up to Khove yet, because he didn’t need the distraction.

  Rachel had started wondering if perhaps the hint at the coming attack wasn’t a warning, but instead a diversion. With Khove and every other shifter penned up in the Manor, there was nobody to defend Plymouth Falls. Korred could run rampant over the town, and she wouldn’t know it until someone else told her.

  That was what had sent her to wandering the hallways. The fear of the unknown. Khove was still sleeping, and she’d been determined not to disturb him. Between the fight yesterday and his exertions at night, he needed every minute of sleep to ensure he was at peak performance today. Rachel wasn’t going to be the reason he got hurt or killed.

  Now she was wandering the hallways, feeling more alone than ever. There were supposedly hundreds of shifters in residence there, but with a third of them asleep, a third in defense positions around the property, and the other third fulfilling other tasks, the huge palace-like house felt practically abandoned.

  Up ahead, a pair of shifters in combat gear marched through the intersection, only visible briefly. Curious as to why they were patrolling inside, she made her way closer. The nearer she got, the more Rachel realized the hallway crossing hers was different from the rest.

  First of all, it was huge. Easily half again as high ceilings, and wide enough for ten men to walk without rubbing shoulders, it exuded a classical grandeur she hadn’t experienced anywhere else in the Manor yet.

  “What is this place?” she said aloud but to herself, looking around in wonder at the various paintings and tapestries that hung from the walls. Overhead, other banners hung across the hallway from gold-plated bars. There were sigils and insignias written, but she couldn’t understand any of them.

  “This is the Grand Hallway.”

  Rachel jumped at the soft female voice, spinning around to find herself face to face with a woman about her size. Whereas Rachel’s eyes were of bright, vivid blue, this woman’s were strikingly green, standing out immediately, drawing all attention to them.

  “Um, hello, um, Queen, uh. Queen Ursa.” Rachel said awkwardly, not sure how to address the woman in public. “I’m sorry, did I just cut you off? I didn’t see you and I…” she stepped out of the way, trying not to flinch as two huge guards stepped up to flank the Queen on either side.

  “No, not at all.” The jade circles danced with gentle laughter. “You’re not the first person to appreciate the beauty of this place and become unaware of everything else. It’s nice to see you back here again Rachel. And please, call me Kaelyn.”

  Rachel noted the way one of the guards frowned as the woman stuck her hand out, but she wasn’t about to ignore that sort of politeness. “Good to be here.”

  “I understand you came back last night with Khove to warn us?”

  “Yeah, basically,” she said sheepishly, deciding maybe it wasn’t the best idea to say she hadn’t wanted to come. That would just be acting a poor guest. She didn’t want to offend her hosts.

  “Well, thank you. It is appreciated.” One of the guards shuffled, and the woman rolled her eyes. “Come, walk with me. Knox here wants me back in the Throne Room where he can feel safer.”

  Rachel’s eye’s wandered to the bodyguard. “Does he feel vulnerable in a place like this?”

  The woman snorted. “Knox? Vulnerable? Heavens no, I would assume not.” She giggled and took Rachel’s arm, forcing her to walk along. “It’s me he’s worried about.”

  “I wouldn’t worry, my Queen, if you didn’t take such large risks,” the same burly guard muttered unhappily.

  Kaelyn just rolled her eyes. “Knox here would have me locked in a tower if he had his way.”

  Rachel giggled nervously, not entirely sure how to react.

  “Thank you for helping Khove, by the way,” she said. “I really do appreciate that. I was more worried than I let on about sending him out alone, but just couldn’t spare more men from here. I had hoped one of my guards working on his own could perhaps do better than a dozen soldiers rampaging around Plymouth Falls trying to track down that evil bastard Korred!”

  The vehemence in the woman’s tone was so powerful Rachel leaned away, lest she get caught up in it.

  “Sorry,” Kaelyn said. “I didn’t mean to unleash that upon you. I just finished touring the lines, and it pains me to know many of them will be dead before this is settled. All because I couldn’t spot a traitor operating under my very nose. A man I trusted!” She snarled, clenching her free hand into a fist. The other remained casually draped on Rachel’s arm.

  “Now I must sit hidden behind layers of my family, doing nothing, because it’s best for the House. I know that here,” she said, tapping her head. “But not here.” Her hand came to rest over her heart.

  “I understand,” Rachel said softly. “I want to help. I really, truly do. I feel impotent. Quarantined, even. Like I’m too fragile to be of help, when that’s the farthest thing from the truth. I was trained to help protect the innocent. It’s what every fiber of my body screams at me to do, even now. Yet what am I doing? Wandering the hallways looking at artwork.”

  “You don’t appreciate art?” Kaelyn teased gently.

  “I don’t even see it right now,” Rachel replied. “My frustrations are outweighing anything else. I just want to be of help.” She bit her lip, then continued, since they were already being open with one another. “I was given looks that I know many other women would like. I know that, and I am grateful for it. But I just wish that didn’t preclude me from being taken seriously. I’m not some helpless damsel in distress. I can handle myself. I’ve fought most of my adult life to be taken seriously. I just wish I knew how that could be applied here.”

  “You really do want to help, don’t you? Even though you barely know us?”

  Rachel laughed sharply. “Trust me, I understand. I’m having a hard time adjusting to all of this, despite apparent outward calm. People that can turn into bears. Apparently, werewolves exist as well. Mages. Faeries. I’m a little strung out up here,” she said with another laugh, tapping her head. “But like you, I know here, that helping you is the right thing to do.” She finished by resting a hand over her own heart.

  “Does Khove know?” the Queen asked gently as they approached a pair of great copper-colored doors.

  “Not yet,” she admitted. “But if he really is my mate, then I need to do something to help. Who else is going to ensure his dumb ass doesn’t die before we can explore whatever’s going on between us?”

  The Queen burst out into laughter. The doors slid open silently as the guards shuffled past and placed a palm on either, arms flexing. Rachel nodded in thanks, trying to collect herself, the giggles being contagious and all.

  “Khove believes you two are mates, does he?” Kaelyn asked at last, the Queen wandering into the vast open room in front of them, leaving Rachel to marvel at it.

  “I guess. I still don’t know how I feel.”

  “You should feel the same,” another voice said, and it was then that Rachel realized they weren’t alone.

  “Who are you?” she asked cautiously. Neither the Queen nor the guards responded to him with alarm, meaning he wasn’t a threat, but there was something off about him.

  He approached, and Rachel gasped as she realized his eyes were glowing golden-yellow.

  “I can see them now,” the man said, a soft smile gracing his full lips. “Brilliantly clear, even.”

  “Between her and Khove?” the Queen called from across the room.

  Rachel walked over to her, the man with the golden eyes following.

  “Oh yes,” he said. “It’s marvelous. Brilliant even. The brightest I have ever seen.
It’s wonderful.” His voice trailed off as he stared at her. “Beautiful.”

  Rachel shuffled uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

  The man blinked several times and then his eyes changed to a blue so light it was shot through with gray. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, the wonder and awe in his voice gone. Now it was just a gravelly base. “But I must steal the Queen away.”

  Rachel put her hands up and backed away. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry for intruding. I didn’t know.”

  The Queen brushed it off. “Nonsense. You couldn’t know. Besides, I brought you with me.” She smiled. “Thank you for the chat, Rachel.”

  Rachel smiled, backing out of the way to let the two of them go. They had jobs that needed doing. Unlike her. Watching them go, she felt a pang of hopelessness. Not for the fight to come, but for her part in it.

  Is this what I’m destined for? To stay in a room filled with empty thrones, while everyone else does the work for me?

  “Rachel.”

  She blinked, returning to the present to find the Queen paused halfway out the door.

  “Yes, uh, my Queen?” she replied, remembering the proper way to formally address the head of House Ursa.

  The green eyes rolled upward briefly at the title. “You are a trained marksman, yes? They teach that in your police academy?”

  Pulling herself upright, Rachel nodded sharply. “Yes, Ma’am. Qualified from pistol to assault rifle, expert marksman with all but the heavy assaults. They’re just too big for me,” she said with a shrug, accepting her limitations.

  The Queen grinned, and she motioned to the one she called Knox. “Take her to the armory. Get her outfitted and find a spot for her where she can be of assistance but not in the way.”

  The bodyguard started to protest, but the Queen cut him off.

  “If she wants to fight alongside us, for the man that she cares for, Knox, who are you to deny her that right? Give her the respect she deserves, understood?”

  “Yes, my Queen!” Knox barked, drawing himself up to attention and slamming a fist to his chest.