“Isn’t there a small chance in hell of getting out of this? Maybe have an exorcism? Drink a gallon of bleach? Dance naked in the rain while chasing lightning bolts? Something I can do to break the link between us. Even fate could not be this cruel to me.”
“Oh honey.” The little man patted her hand even as he drew her out of the room and away from the still sighing and pouting Fae crying out his cruel fate to the universe. “I’m afraid even if I did know of a way to break the mate bond I simply couldn’t allow it. After all, who else would take him?”
They both looked back to the couch where Roark lay, pitifully sniffing his despair and bemoaning the loss of his sperm in the world.
They shared a look then moved down the hall until Calder could no longer hear a grown man pleading, crying and snotting over the unfairness of his ruined life.
Chapter Three
When the door to Nob’s office clicked shut, Roark sat up, wiped the tears and mucus and smiled. Oh he knew he looked like a complete fool in the eyes of his Liaria, but surely she’d forgive him. After all, Calder had started it by complaining over his Fae heritage. Ha, as if she had anything to complain about. He was the one with a mate who had hair no amount of electrolysis could zap, not to mention his grocery bill would triple with a shifter female. Not that he’d ever say such a thing to her, even Roark knew better than to comment on a female’s, any female’s, eating habits. It was just asking to be killed and chopped up for a nice Fae shake in her blender. Damn women were bloodthirsty, more likely to strike out with claws and fangs than attempt a conversation.
So until he could get a better handle on his Liaria, Roark would continue the charade of a sniveling, pansy-ass pretty boy. Though if he never did reproduce, the world would truly be worse off.
Quickly checking to make sure his two companions were still busy comparing notes on his lack of dignity, Roark slipped his new shiny iPhone out of his pocket. Oh man, did he love Apple and the late, great Steve Jobs. If any human deserved worship, surely it had been the creator of everything bright and shiny in Roark’s world. He was a Fae, after all, and the Fae loved nothing more than shiny objects capable of great feats.
Sliding his finger over the contact information, he tapped the correct name and waited with tempered patience for the other line to be answered.
After what felt like eons, but most likely fewer than twenty seconds had passed, the voice he’d been desperately eager to talk to spoke.
“Have you called to finally admit you’re a ball-less embarrassment to everyone in the family?”
“Only if you’re ready to admit you spent the night with that gnome in Germany.”
“Shit!” the deep voice cursed before dropping the line of conversation altogether. “What do you want this time, Roark?”
Feigning a hurt tone, Roark asked his cousin and closest friend, “Can’t I call to say I love you?”
“Oh please, keep the pansy-ass routine for those who didn’t help you come up with the asinine idea. I know you way too well, cousin, to fall for your shit. Now what’s up?” Devon Greenleaf questioned baldly, as only relatives could.
Giving up torturing his favorite relative for the time being, Roark got down to the point of the call. “I’ve met my Liaria.”
Devon swore low before taking a deep breath. “Somehow I don’t think congratulations are in order?”
“She’s a shifter, a lion shifter from the States.” He could have said from Louisiana, but he didn’t want his cousin to think any worse of his mate than he probably already did. The only good thing to come out of that Southern state was jazz and strong coffee.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to fuck this up in your own special window-licking way?”
Insulted and shocked by his favorite cousin’s attitude, Roark barely managed to keep his temper. “I’m doing nothing to fuck this up. It came to me fucked up all on its own.”
A deep, patience-gathering sigh. “Look, cousin, I understand having a shifter as a mate may have come as sort of a surprise to you, but it’s fate. There is no denying fate, not that any other fool but you would try. Take the gift as she’s being offered and do not whine too much or fate may just decide to take her gift back.”
At the mere thought of losing his Calder, his woman, his mate, everything froze inside. “Aye,” he agreed around the thick lump currently lodged in his throat, possibly along with his foot since he’d been sticking it in his mouth since he’d met his woman.
“Want me to pop by and help smooth things over? Ya know I’ve a way with the ladies.” Devon’s voice sounded way too sincere for Roark’s comfort.
“Nay, you’ll keep your charming ways and wandering hands far away from my mate. Maybe after we’re properly bonded I’ll allow you to chat with her over the net.” No, he wasn’t going there. Never going to allow his handsome, smooth-talking younger cousin anywhere near Calder until he’d bound her to him with every ritual, magical and mortal, he could think of.
They’d been friends pretty much since birth and Devon had never betrayed him before. The mating whirlwind must really be messing with his mind if Roark wasted time worrying over his cousin hitting on his mate.
Hell, Roark hadn’t hit on her yet and they belonged to each other. How much more was a man supposed to take? The simple scent of her lingering in the air caused his cock to harden and his palms to dampen.
“You still there, Roark?” Devon’s question broke Roark out of his useless musings.
“Aye, I’m here, wondering if this mating ritual is going to drive me ’round the bed before it’s finished,” he confessed.
“You’re not the first male to wonder the same thing, I’ve no doubt. Just keep your eye on the prize—your mate in your arms for the rest of your very long life. The mother of your future children and all that.”
“Kids? Huh.” Somehow with everything else going on Roark’s mind hadn’t caught up enough to throw kids into the equation, at least not in a serious way. He’d thrown a hissy fit in order to get time alone, to think and to call his cousin for advice. Actually contemplating a son or daughter made his stomach jump, in a good but strange way. Something else to think about later…much later.
“Has your mind completely shut down, then? One whiff of the female and you’re back to being a youngling without an ounce of common sense or brain power?” Devon’s voice lost its customary humor.
“Hey, wait until it happens to you then come talk to me about solving complex equations. It’s a bit hard to keep track of everything when my cock is trying to drive the bus, as it were.” Damn if he didn’t speak the truth. Since the moment he’d seen Calder in the bar, the brain dangling between his legs kept trying to take over the operation.
“Well at least I’ll be happy to find my mate, not whining like a spoiled child.”
“Hey—”
Devon cut him off. “Wait, sorry for that remark. You’re right, I have no idea what type of hell you’re going through. Now tell me what’s really bothering you.”
Roark blew out a breath then ran an unsteady hand through his hair. “Bugger me running, but the hell if I know. She’s…something. The shifter part threw me, of course, but our kind have mixed with humans, mages and shifters before. It’s just I always pictured my mate being more…Fae,” he finally confessed.
Both men remained silent, each caught up in their own thoughts.
Devon was the first to break the silence. “So you think her being a shifter makes her less than you? And would you mind telling me her name? I’m feeling a little rude always saying ‘her’ or ‘your mate’.”
“Calder, my mate’s name is Calder and no, I would never dream of thinking she was beneath me.” His mind flashed outside to the rain and the magnificent cat stretched out on the grass beneath the ancient ash tree. “She’s so beautiful in her other form. Sleek, muscular and graceful, she’s pure artwork in motion.”
“I’m forced to repeat myself.” Roark heard the sounds of clothing rustling as
Devon moved around on his end. “What is your problem with Calder then? You say you find her second form beautiful, right? Then you need to get over yourself, boyo, and learn to deal with it. This woman is your mate and you don’t get to pick and choose which traits to keep and what to toss.”
Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Roark bit back the growl on his lips as he paced back and forth. Why bother getting angry with his cousin when the other man spoke nothing but the God’s honest truth. Because Calder was his mate. “She’s rejected me,” he finally confessed.
Silence hung heavy on the line once again as Devon absorbed the stunning words. Why he blurted the truth out he had no idea, but too late to try to take the words back.
“She said exactly those words, that she didn’t want you for a mate, wanted nothing to do with you?”
“Yes…no…not exactly.” He should have thought this through before blurting out his every single thought. Damn it all, this behavior wasn’t like him.
“Let me guess, she didn’t say anything more than not wanting to be a notch on your bedpost. You, being the idiot ya are, took it to mean she wanted nothing to do with you or the mating bond. How much do I have right so far?”
“More than you should without the help of psychic senses or electronic gadgets.”
A low sigh drifted through their connection. “Don’t be such a gold-blind fool, Roark. Find the woman, get to know her then explain your connection. At the very least give the lass a chance to say aye or nay. Shifters have mates too, ya know. Maybe it’s something you should discuss with her.”
“I hate you,” Roark replied without any real heat.
“Then stop ringing me and whining like a lass of ten.”
He flipped his middle finger at the phone then stabbed the off button. Damn, it wasn’t the same as crashing the handset into the base, but technology called for some concessions.
Now he’d go take his cousin’s advice and get a feel for where his two-natured mate stood on fate and eternal mates.
* * * * *
“You changed the way you talk. Why?”
The little brownie blinked innocent eyes at her before nudging the fire with a steel poker. “You noticed, did you?”
Uncertain what to say, Calder spoke the truth. “Um yeah. Kind of hard not to notice.” Was this something she wasn’t supposed to talk about? A huge no-no in the Fae culture?
Giving a nod while the wisdom of years showed in his tanned face, Nob sank back into a small leather armchair then folded his hand across his slight belly. “Most humans, shifter or otherwise, expect us to act like the silly creatures portrayed in the movies. Our only goal is to serve our masters at the expense of our own happiness. It’s all a bunch of goblin dung.”
Goblins must be the hideous creatures she’d always imagined if Nob cursed their very bowel movements. “You don’t?” She hurried to clarify her question. “I mean you don’t want to serve people and bend your life to their whims and all that?”
The little man roared with laughter much deeper than someone his size should have been capable of. The t-shirt stretched across his shoulders while he hunched over in his chair, chortling until tears leaked from his eyes.
It took several minutes for Nob to control his snorts of laughter. Finally he sat up, wiped the moisture from his eyes and tried to control the curve of his lips. “Nay, dear, we house brownies would rule the world if only we could stop taking care of our charges long enough to bother. You see, we’re drawn to the good of our race. We care for them from generation to generation so long as their heart remains pure. However if ever one of our charges strays from the light, so to speak, the bond binding us breaks in a very painful manner.”
Huh, who knew this was so detailed? Essentially Nob was saying the brownies had the power and if the Fae they served didn’t live up to the smaller people’s standards, all bets were off.
“Does this happen often?” Curious, as she’d never been able to ask these types of questions before, Calder wanted to ask everything she could think of before Roark came in to stop her.
A small shrug. “Not as often as you’d think, but when it does it shakes up our entire community. You see we house brownies take great pride in our families and when one goes bad it has a negative effect on us. Other houses look down at the brownie with the estranged house. Losing your Fae is a humiliation no brownie can live down. So we do everything to keep our families on the side of good. To do less makes the brownie appear weak and easily broken.”
“What happens if you don’t leave even if your Fae person goes bad?” Who knew Fae history could be so fascinating and complex.
Nob shuddered. “Then the brownie goes to the dark as well. He’s as bad as his Fae and there’s no coming back from that.”
“You mean if Roark were to ‘go dark’ you would too? How is that fair?” Damn, she knew the Fae were tricky people, not as bad as the Elf, but almost. “Why should you be punished for something another adult being does?”
“It’s the way of our people, Calder. It makes us stronger so long as we remain true to who we are. If we turn weak, greedy or selfish then we move away from who we were created to be. Brownies help the Fae remember their roots and vice-versa. We’re a check and balance system for each other.”
Calder’s respect for the smaller but powerful people grew. “I guess when you have so much power it’s better to play on the safe side.”
Nob smiled then asked a question of his own. “What of you, Calder? Do your people not have a system to police themselves? After all, shifters have considerable power of their own.”
Carefully she turned possible answers over in her mind. Shifters grew up being taught to maintain the secrecy of their people. One easy slip of the tongue and humans would be up in arms with torches and pitchforks. However, after all Nob shared with her, Calder didn’t see any harm in sharing a few minor secrets of the shifter world.
“We have a sheriff’s council. A few of the strongest of each pride, clan, pack or nest are picked to police the rest of the shifter population. To be chosen is an honor to the family and community.” She remembered her parents’ happiness when her oldest brother Reme had been chosen out of their entire pride. Celebrations went on for days until her brother finally left for training.
“Hmm.” Nob tapped his chin. “If this council takes your strongest warriors then who is left to protect the families?”
“Every group is patrolled by someone appointed by the regional sheriff. The more people, the more shifters appointed. Plus, we learn to get along with different types of shifters and have more communication between all of us. It’s protected us from human detection so far.”
“I very much would like to visit your council and learn their methods. Maybe they have suggestions I can bring back to my people. Or at least something besides death to those leaning to the darker side of their magic.”
“If I can help, I will,” Calder volunteered. “Honestly, I’m not very high up in the pride. More of a loner among loners, but my family knows just about everyone. They are very sociable so I know they’d be happy to help you.”
“Help with what?”
Calder’s whole body jerked at the sound of Roark’s low voice. With a pounding heart she slowly turned to face him. Firelight loved him, lightly kissing the sharp angles of his handsome face while his eyes glowed in the low light.
“Never you mind, young one,” Nob scolded in a fond tone before turning back. “Many thanks for your graciousness, Calder. We’ll talk more later.”
“Absolutely, Nob.” Going with instinct, Calder leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his weathered cheek. “I very much enjoyed spending time with you.”
Nob, to her complete surprise, turned a deep shade of red and mumbled something unintelligible under his breath before hastily leaving the room.
“Not much flusters the old guy, but you sure did,” Roark commented as he slid into the brownie’s empty chair. “What in the name of the seven dimensions we
re you two talking about?”
Seven dimensions? She wondered if she wanted to know, but thought better. Some things she just wasn’t ready to face and other dimensions ranked high on the list.
“We talked about history, the fight between good and evil, and where to get the best homemade fudge,” she said, refocusing on the conversation. Though she and Nob hadn’t managed to discuss the fudge issue, Calder knew they could get to it later. Some things were too important not to discuss.
Dark brows rose at her words either in disbelief or astonishment “And that’s all you talked about?”
“Are you always so suspicious or is it just me you don’t trust?”
“I think we need to establish a few boundaries or at the very least lay our cards on the table.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on knees, while Calder did her best to ignore the taut stretch of fabric over firm muscles.
“Age before beauty,” she offered.
“Sassy on top of beautiful. What a lucky male I am!”
“Let’s see if you still feel that way once we’re done with our discussion.” She wouldn’t go out of her way to piss him off, but Calder knew few males outside the shifter race and few within it could handle a female lioness in mating fever. No matter how magical his bloodline, Calder didn’t think Roark’s slight but muscular build would withstand her demanding heat.
It really would be a shame if she broke him in half during an amorous bout of lovemaking. Even his cock could be in danger of being broken in half if her feline self wasn’t satisfied. Better men, shifters, humans and demons had cried mercy and fled a she-lion’s bed during her heat cycle.
“According to my people, my legends and every freaking beat of my heart, I recognize you as my Liaria, my mate and other half.” The words hung in the air, ripe with promise and anticipation.
His direct and unvarnished truth settled something shaky inside Calder. Returning the respect, she gave Roark the honest truth. “And according to my traditions and legacy, you are my mate, my one. The destiny fate meant for me alone.” Something tickled her memory and she blurted out the question before censoring herself. “Wait, Liaria, isn’t that a…?” Oh shit.
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