by Riley Storm
Kirell smiled at her. “History is written by the victors, remember? They made sure to erase all evidence of it, and ruthlessly hunted down anyone who tried. A few texts here and there made it through, but most of the time it was discredited, because nobody believed it.”
“That makes sense,” she was forced to admit. “What happened with the Mages?”
“We fought each other for centuries. The Dark Ages was called that for a reason. We tried to go underground, to just live peacefully, but they wouldn’t let us. They hunted us, and they were organized and much more powerful back then. We struck back, of course. The Black Death, or plague? You’ve heard of that, right?”
She nodded silently.
“It only targeted magic users, wiped them out in droves, even those who had so little power they didn’t even realize what they had. It drastically evened the playing field for us, a last-ditch effort that succeeded. But they didn’t stop there, of course. The Spanish Inquisition, if you’ve heard of it? Not religious persecution, but actually a cover to try and expose us.”
“Really?”
“Really. It nearly worked too. We were almost eliminated.”
“Unbelievable.”
“We fled, then. There was finally somewhere we could go shortly after it started up.”
“What do you mean?” Then her brain caught up to her question. “The New World. You came to America.”
He nodded. “Many of the original settlers were shapeshifters.” He looked unhappy for a moment. “Probably why they got along so poorly with the natives, who had their own form of magic. The skinwalkers weren’t exactly happy to see another race with the same powers as them.” He looked away. “Not our proudest moments, but we were desperate.”
She nodded, realizing he must have meant the centuries-long conflict that had erupted between European settlers and the Indigenous Peoples already present in the US. “What happened next?”
“Next? Next we got stronger, established a power base here, and we struck back as publicly as we dared, trying to expose the mages. And we succeeded. The witch hunts worked fantastically.”
Natalia sat back in her chair, fascinated by all that she was learning, that wasn’t evident in any textbook she’d ever come across before.
“That’s amazing. So why were they here today? Are you still at war with one another?”
He shook his head. “No. A little over a century ago, peace was finally signed between us. The mages were on the losing end, and they knew it. So, they opted to give in to our demands, and since then things have been much better, or so I’m told.”
She smiled and reached across the table, resting her hand on top of his, smiling. She could see that Kirell had managed to shrug aside the black cloud hovering over him since she’d arrived. It wasn’t gone entirely, but it was a start.
Kirell didn’t move his hand, but he did look at hers for a long time. Just what was going through his head, she wondered. Their business arrangement had certainly taken a turn in a direction neither of them anticipated, but if they could just prevent it from derailing completely, they could finish what they’d started, and everyone would be happy.
“You don’t have to stay,” he said at last, offering her a way out.
“I didn’t have to come back either,” she pointed out. “I’m sure you could have found someone to come get the car. But I did. I’m here.”
Kirell nodded slowly. “Thank you. It’s…nice, to have you back.”
She looked around the cafeteria-style kitchen. “You know, I’ve kind of grown fond of this place. It’s so out of place in the modern world, it has its own charm.”
“It’s not always fights and killing and backstabbing politics. In fact, it’s usually not. You just happened to get dragged into it at a bad time.”
“I bet.” She almost pulled her hand back, but something stopped her. Not Kirell, but her own will. It felt nice to have contact with him. To be near him.
Moving slowly, probably so he didn’t scare her away, Kirell placed his other hand on top of hers, sandwiching it between his massive palms.
“I’m here,” she told him, verbally reinforcing what he could already see. “Tell me, what do you need from me? How can I help?”
“I’ll show you. Come on.”
30
“Last chance to bail,” he whispered, tilting his head down to the right so he could speak even lower.
“Don’t tempt me,” Natalia fired back. “I’m not big on ritual stuff like this. It’s so dry and boring.”
He grinned, looking straight ahead still, down the length of the Grand Hallway. “You were the one who said you liked the fact we were so out of place in the modern world. Sometimes that’s good. Other times it means we have to do all this pomp and circumstance bullshit that exactly nobody likes but that we absolutely refuse to change as well.”
“That’s absurd. If nobody wants it, then do away with it. Why keep it going?”
One of the Queen’s guards lining the hallway twitched, a sure sign that he’d heard the two of them speaking. Kirell dropped his voice another notch, hoping Natalia would get the hint. “It’s tradition. The older folks want us younger ones to suffer through it because they had to as well. Such is the circle of life.”
She covered her snicker well, but the bounce of her shoulders had certainly caught many an eye. Not that any of the Queen’s guards would speak to it, but they were supposed to stand there in perfect, comfortable silence with each other while in the Throne Room, the Queen spoke to the remaining Title Holders and all the assembled members of High House Ursa.
“How about you?” Natalia asked him several moments later. “How are you doing?”
It sounded to anyone who was eavesdropping that she was asking him how he felt about being appointed to Captain, but Natalia knew him better than that. It wasn’t the appointment that bothered him. Kirell hadn’t wanted it, nor asked for it, but his Queen thought he could do a good job of it, and so he would give it his all for her. He was comfortable with the idea of being in charge, even though he was nervous about screwing up, like anyone should be.
That wasn’t what Natalia was asking about. She knew the truth behind it all, she knew that it was a sham, of course, and because of that, she understood how stressed out he was about lying to the rest of his House. It wasn’t the position he was being appointed to that bothered him, it was how he had been appointed. Under the pretense of a lie. A big lie that had required him to find someone to help fabricate it.
All of that sat wrong with him. Kirell wasn’t a shadow-walker. He preferred to walk the straight line, with right to one side and wrong to the other. No blurred lines. This was wrong, and he knew it, but yet… he also understood it had to be done. Once he and Natalia walked through those doors and the Queen spoke the appropriate words, he would be confirmed in his position, and that would be that. The dominos could begin to fall from here, and the House would slowly return to normal. Assuming he didn’t screw up in the next ten minutes.
“I’m good,” he said, trying to sound light and at ease. Instead, it came out like a frog’s croak.
“Are you sure about that?” Natalia pressed, stifling another giggle.
“Yes.”
He almost asked her how she was doing. Almost. The last thing Kirell wanted to do, however, was to put even more pressure upon his mate. To make her overthink things, to possibly question her decision. Not when they were so close to pulling it off.
He needed her to be rock-steady right now, because he couldn’t be. Deep down somewhere, he recognized he was leaning upon her, drawing strength from her, but he didn’t dwell on those thoughts. He couldn’t, because the doors to the Throne Room had opened and the Herald had emerged.
“Kirell Ursa. Natalia Kristoff. Approach,” he commanded in his strong, powerful speaking voice.
Kirell stepped forward, Natalia little more than a fraction of a step behind. The Herald watched them come. He was the messenger of the House, the communicator,
speech writer, and general diplomat whenever one was needed. Not the most prominent of positions, but necessary nonetheless.
The Throne Room was packed. The sitting Title Holders occupied their seats. It pained Kirell to see the empty holes. Knight. Champion. Captain. Hunter. All empty. True, the seat of Captain would soon be occupied, but the three others were prestigious seats, the most powerful of the House after the King or Queen. Yet all of them were bare.
Today marked the start of the rebuilding of House Ursa, and he longed for the day when all the stone chairs would be filled once more. His House would return to glory, of that, Kirell had no doubt. It was simply a matter of time.
They walked forward hand in hand, stopping just short of the Queen’s throne. She was flanked by four of her guards. Normally, two guards stood behind her chair, but in these turbulent times nobody was taking any chances. They formed a square around the ruler of House Ursa and their weapons were no longer ceremonial. This time, they were functional. The sheathed blades over their shoulders would be lined with depleted uranium, the pistols on either hip filled with radiated bullets, same as the lethal-looking assault rifles held smartly against their shoulders.
Kirell felt no fear. Either this would work, or it wouldn’t. There was no middle ground, and thus, no reason to fear. He’d done his part. Now to see if they had done a good enough job.
“Kirell Ursa,” the Queen said, speaking strongly, her voice reaching to the upper floors, carrying to all corners. “You have been nominated to the position of Captain of High House Ursa. Do you still wish to fulfill this nomination?”
“I do,” he replied, letting everyone know that there was no weakness in him, no quaver in his voice. It rang out through the Throne Room with calm strength.
“You are aware your nomination has been challenged as Unfit?”
“I am,” he said, again his voice clear.
“Would the challenger please step forward.”
There was a rustle of noise to his eight o’clock, but Kirell didn’t dignify Klebra by twisting his head.
“Challenger, please state why you believe the nominee to be Unfit for his position?”
“He is unmated, my Queen. This woman is here but as a lie, a fiction to help this pretender achieve his seat in an ill-gotten attempt to gain power in the House. He acts no better than a gutter r—”
“That will be enough,” the Queen said sharply, her voice cracking like a whip.
Even Klebra had the common sense not to continue, at least not in front of so many.
“Kirell. You have been challenged. Is this your mate?”
“It is,” he said, speaking loudly over the whispers that had erupted when the Queen cut Klebra off.
“Please show the rest of the House the truth of your claim.”
He turned to Natalia. “Come here,” he growled, snaking a hand around her head and pulling her in tight.
She melted into him as they put a show on for the assembled members of his House. Kirell wasn’t a fan of having to go this far to prove it, but it was better than the alternative that had been phased out a couple of centuries before.
Earlier in the history of the Houses, when someone was challenged to display their mate, the pair had been expected to have sex with each other right there in front of the rest of the House. Compared to that, kissing her deeply for several long seconds was nothing.
A few moments later, they broke apart. To his surprise he was breathing hard with excitement.
Behind him, he could hear Klebra growling, getting ready to protest some more, but there was nothing he could do. Without a Hunter, there was no way to tell for certain if this was his mate or not. It was why the Queen had chosen to appoint him first. This way, they could ensure that the Hunter, whoever it ended up being, would be loyal to the Queen, and not to whomever was manipulating Klebra.
“Challenger,” the Queen spoke again. “Do you have any evidence to counter the nominee’s claims?”
Klebra went to speak, but to Kirell’s surprise, the Queen spoke again—out of turn.
“Hard evidence,” she hissed in a nasty voice. “I will not tolerate name-calling or suspicion. You must have proof.”
To his credit, Klebra didn’t speak up. He must have shaken his head because the Queen lifted her chin and spoke to the crowd as a whole.
“High House Ursa, please welcome your new Captain. Captain, you may take your seat.”
He nodded, ascending the stone steps to the empty chair, while Natalia retreated back to the edges of the room, standing between two of the Queen’s guards. The reception to his confirmation wasn’t thunderous, but it was more positive than negative.
I think.
31
“So, we did it?”
Kirell pushed open his repaired door and showed her inside. Natalia was slightly hesitant to enter his quarters, but she didn’t let it show. She couldn’t, not now that she’d been shown to everyone as his mate.
“We did it,” he said. “Thank you. A few more days, then you can slip out of the House. I’ll handle everything on this end.”
She wondered just how he was going to do that, but decided it was better not to ask. Some things, she just didn’t want to know. As long as he got her the Green Card and the money, she would be happy. These were the only reasons she’d stuck around.
Or, so she tried to tell herself.
“Wine?” Kirell asked, pulling off his dress uniform top and tossing it over a table with a relieved sigh.
“Yes please.” She grabbed her bag and stole into the washroom before he could claim it, as eager to get out of the formal gown she was wearing as he was his uniform. “You know, there are some things you could bring into the modern day. Your formal wear for women being one of them.”
Slipping out of the ghastly uncomfortable and ill-fitting material, she let it fall to a pile on the ground. It was old and had been altered to fit her by someone in the House. Whoever had done the job, though, hadn’t been concerned about it looking good, only staying in place.
“Tell me about it. I suspect the Queen would love to make some changes, but now is not the time for that.”
“Yeah, I guess.” She slipped into a plain white long-sleeve with a low back and high-waisted jeans. “Ahhh. So much better.”
She exited the room to see Kirell clad only in a pair of shorts. “Really?”
He answered by handing her a glass of wine and holding out his own to cheers her. “To you.”
“To us,” she said, before realizing what she’d said. “To, uh, the success of our plan.”
Kirell grinned. “Whatever you say.”
She rolled her eyes and took a long drink, trying hard not to run her eyes over his taut upper body as it relaxed into the couch less than two feet away from her.
Stop it. You’ve done your job. That’s what this was. A job. Nothing more.
“Natalia? Everything okay?” Kirell was looking at her intently.
“Yeah?” she said automatically. “Why?”
“You’ve been staring at me for the past minute or so without saying anything. I was starting to wonder if you were having a stroke or something.”
Ah shit.
“No. Just…thinking.”
Don’t do it.
“Thinking about what?”
“Everything. What we’ve been through the past few days. How it’s changed me. How I…feel, about it.”
I said don’t do it. That means stop increasing the tension and mood between you two.
Kirell was the one staring now, the azure of his eyes growing more intense. The attraction between them was undeniable. Natalia knew, she knew that she could cut it off now, nip it in the bud before she did what she’d vowed not to do, but it was so hard. There was just so much to like about Kirell. Why shouldn’t she let herself indulge a bit for the last few days that she was going to be around him?
Because the further in you sink, the harder it is to come out. You need to maintain your distance from this
guy. This isn’t your life. You don’t belong here.
The last thought was like a cold bucket of water tossed over her. It was true, she didn’t belong here. And that’s why she was going to leave as soon as she could. This was not her world. Despite the history lesson earlier, Natalia still felt completely lost living in a house full of shifters.
“I hope none of the changes is for the negative,” Kirell said, reaching out to lay a hand on her forearm. “I know it must be tough for you.”
The warmth of his touch spread slowly, creeping up her arm inch by inch the longer he kept his hand there, long fingers wrapping a large part of the way around her arm. He was so big. So strong. Anytime he was around, she felt safe on an instinctive level she hadn’t experienced before.
“I can’t see how I would see them as negative,” she assured him. “I have no regrets.”
Their eyes locked as she said those last words, and Natalia knew it was of no use fighting. Her free arm, the one with the wine glass, found the side table by sheer luck, and she pushed the glass into the center.
“None at all?” Kirell asked breathlessly, finishing his own glass with a gulp and setting it aside, never looking away from her.
“None,” she agreed, mirroring him as they leaned in closer to one another. “Not a single one.”
“Good.”
Kirell came the last distance, locking his lips to hers as they fell into each other’s arms in a flurry of touches and grabs. The dam burst inside her, and she let it go, riding the wave of lust that filled her body as she felt herself be picked up and placed on his lap with a casual display of his strength.
Moments later, she was lifting her arms as he stripped her of the shirt, tossing it to the side carelessly. She barely noticed through the sensations he unleashed by kissing her neck and running his fingers down her back. The haze of arousal settled firmly over her, prompting her hips to grind back and forth over his.
When his mouth closed over her breasts, she shivered, goosebumps running down her back, tightening the skin as it went. Arching forward into him, she ran her fingers through the short hair on his head, feeling each strand brush against the underside. Strong fingertips dug into her waist, gripping her tightly, like he never wanted to let go.