by Mima
Back in River Mountain, he approached Rowan’s room, ironically just next door to Donte’s, with reluctance. Lately, she’d discovered sex and indulged in it to a ridiculous degree with her two guards. He’d investigated the groundbear Laing and the wolf Devron thoroughly and found them good men. Both were strong, honorable, alpha council warriors who had started as cautious guards of a potential darkmage and ended as caring friends counseling a wounded woman. He wanted to rip their bowels out through their dicks.
He only had a half hour before he’d have to sit with the Council and somehow maneuver them into the Queen’s plan. But before he could go in to see her, he had to make sure his beasts were thoroughly controlled. It took precious, nauseating minutes before he could tame their excitement at seeing their match. He knocked at the door.
Devron cracked it, smelled Dom and opened it. Dom kept his gaze on the floor, letting the first contact with her come in stages. Scent was stage one. The warbling howl of the wolf echoed down his thighs and he crushed the pump of heat in his balls with bodycraft. She’d had sex this morning, with Devron. She was happy.
Sound was stage two. Her laughter was like the sight of children playing in the orchards. It was that pure, that perfect. But her voice was like a bell tolling in his gut.
“A draw! Roll again.” The clatter of element dice, muffled by her palms.
Sight was stage three. He lifted his gaze and saw her lying on her belly beneath the table, both chairs knocked over and out of the way. Laing was lying opposite her, their heads tucked in the shadows. She tossed the dice on the carpet and groaned.
“Fire over water. Annnd the element master wins another round,” Laing chuckled lazily.
She flicked the dice, petulantly scattering them, then glanced up at him and froze. Her eyes were so black there was little to glean from her gaze, but luckily he was a trux. Her lust scent was as powerful as a lick across the head of an aching erection. Not that he’d ever gotten to stage four, touch. Not that he wouldn’t cut off his own dick for the chance to actually taste her.
She scrambled out from beneath the table and knelt. “Come to ride the pony?”
He was holding on to himself so tightly now, achingly aware of the two guards watching them both, that her provoking words bounced off him. They were nothing compared to having to look at that collar on her neck. Today she was hardly dressed, obviously not planning on leaving her room. Her breasts strained against the loose linen wrappings circling her torso, and the frilly short skirt fluffed around her hips did nothing to hide the black curls at the top of her thighs. They matched the black curls that sprang around her head in a halo, and once again, he mourned the waist-length locks she’d cut off last week.
“Forgive my interruption. I am in need of your craft, Truth-teller.”
“Dom, we’ve been over and over this. I don’t control what I say.”
“And I have made my opinion equally clear.” He didn’t put it back into words she refused to accept. The more she was exposed to different people, the more her gift awoke. Just by sitting in her presence for a few minutes, he usually triggered a prophecy, whereas Laing and Devron hadn’t heard a new prophecy since their earliest days with her. And Dom had noticed that whenever he coaxed her outside her room, the prophecies also came faster. “Would you like to come outside for some fresh air? Or at least look out over the plaza?”
Once Devron had gotten her to the outer door overlooking the valley, but she’d balked and quickly returned to her room. After a lifetime of captivity, Rowan feared open space.
“Your skymages are adequate. I don’t feel my rooms are stale at all.” But she stood and went to sit on her bed in the corner.
Watching her walk away from him was hard on his beastspirits, but seeing the scars in her shoulders where she’d ripped out her own chains made him want to scratch his eyes out.
She sat, swinging her legs, and said grumpily, “Well, you better come in.”
He entered, closing the door to the short hall outside as he knew she wanted. “If you get tired of losing to these two, I’d be happy to offer my services. I’m known far and wide as having the worst luck at element dice as anyone ever born.”
The other men froze. Dom had never volunteered a personal interest in Rowan before. Laing shot him a curious look as he picked up the chairs.
Everyone heard her swallow. “Um. Alright.”
Hawk’s high skrrreee echoed with joy through his mental halls. He merely inclined his head to her, a polite bow of respect from trux to woman. “That will be enjoyable.”
“Have you any more news about the fortress?”
“We are unable to enter.” The glowing coals of all the fallen warriors flared briefly and he had to stop and breathe. “However, we have found all of their City sifting stones, which will prevent their free movement. They might even be trapped in the fortress, now.” Speaking of trapped, he couldn’t believe how tiny her nipples were. They were very erect and stabbed out of their thin wrappings with distinction.
“No more sightings of them since Thad slipped your grasp in Seventh City?”
His teeth audibly grated in the silence. That had happened three weeks ago and she brought it up every time she saw him.
“I think I would like to go out and see the plaza.” She moved to the trunk in the corner and pulled on the loose wrap lying there. It was a vivid yellow that looked striking with her black hair and eyes.
Dom opened the door and shot Devron a cold look when he stepped forward. He didn’t want company. The man inclined his head and turned back into the room. Rowan paused, looking both ways at the entrance to the main hall. River Mountain was hollow, and all the rooms and halls spun along a U-shape around the main plaza at the base of the empty core. The hallway Rowan’s room was off of on the sixth level had a nearby balcony looking out over the expanse, lit by the open cracks in the rock dome above them.
She inched up to the railing, shoulders hunching. Her curious scent faded with unease. He stepped up to the banister next to her and braced one hip against it, showing her it could be trusted. It was so hard standing this close to her. Her head came to mid-chest. To put his arms around her and draw her close would be so easy. This was taking too long. It was time he left her. But despite dire needs of the war, he would not rush this woman back into her current semi-captivity until she chose to go, which wouldn’t be long.
“So many people scurrying around. What do people do all day?”
“We have many duties. Each person has a role.”
“Devron and Laing probably have better things to do than to amuse me all day. I finished giving my recollections of the darkmages weeks ago. Oh, look! They're flying inside today."
Her thin, pale hand entered his vision, pointing gracefully at the soaring hawks gliding around the upper reaches of the plaza's massive cavern. Her open delight in such commonplace things both awed and crushed him. She was innocence, but it had been forced on her.
It was impossible not to follow the line of her delicate wrist, her smooth arm, and admire the curve of a generous breast in her gaping robe. That horrific collar sat wide against her neck, with just enough of a gap for her to tip her head as she watched the gliding forms of the hawks sweep past. But then there was her stubborn chin and little snub nose. Her flying black brows and the wild tumble of her silky curls. He licked his lips and snowcat slashed at his insides.
"Do you have any news about my collar?" Rowan's fingers curled over the upper edge of the collar, her hands pulling at it like she'd rip it off herself. "I bet the newly adopted Flame Mistress can take this away."
Mountaincat paced inside Dom, weaving step-by-step with groundbear. That foul collar. He'd rip it off her himself if he could. He'd tried. The best council alphas had tried. Humans had put it on her as a child and the scars from wearing it all her life had worn shiny tracks along the tops of her shoulders. "We have found several of the people present at the ritual that first bound you."
"Yes, the lovely
woman with red hair, Vivienne, is one of you now. Is she willing to meet with me yet?"
So far, Vivienne hadn't been able to stomach meeting Rowan. She'd shared what little she knew of how the collar had been sealed, and given the names of everyone involved, but the collar Rowan now wore was different from the one she'd had when the Mage Guild at Second City had sought to suppress the child's prophecies. "Not yet. Now that the escaped bear has confirmed the lizard birds are all dead, she can come off duty and complete the adopted women's courses. I will remind her you want to see her."
"I remember her. She was never cruel." Rowan turned her back to the tents in the plaza below and looked off down the hall toward her room.
He could tell she wanted to go back, but he continued the conversation, just to prolong her time beyond the walls she now hid in. "She held you down for them when they sealed you into that. It's amazing you can think kindly of her."
"I was different then. Everything was confused, even for them, I think. And there were some who were cruel, but she wasn't."
Dom's marten and bear both snarled in disagreement, disgusted with human behavior, as usual. "Vivienne is ashamed, rightfully, but your wishes as the victim come first. I'll see to it she comes to you soon. Don’t get your hopes up, though. I doubt she can remove it."
"I will try anything and I think you’re failing to recognize her power. Devron has told me the stories of the Battle of Fourth and the Battle on the Plains so many times I feel like I've lived it myself. She's an amazing woman. Do you think she'll juggle fire for me? Laing has juggled for me. He's not that good."
"She will." He'd see to it.
"And Laing told me of the darkmages' pet bear, returned to you after so long in their fortress. He's covered in scars, and barely has a human spirit anymore."
"Don't tell me you want to meet him, too, because it isn't going to happen." Just the thought of Rowan being exposed to that—
"Oh, I already met him. He came by my room a few times, just to look. Not here. Back in the fortress, of course. He never spoke to me but sometimes he brought me food."
Dom shuddered as every one of his eleven beastspirits howled. He tried very hard not to remember she'd been held by the darkmages, tortured and tormented by them.
"I'm so glad he's out. That means he was able to give you even more information than the hawk and the human slaves." She sighed, toying with the edge of her robe. "Since I wasn't any help. Chained in my room the whole time, I knew next to nothing." She swallowed. “I’m so useless, nothing but a burden. It’s like I’m forever waiting.”
With exact control, Dom crossed the line he’d set for himself after the first time he saw her and knew her to be a potential mate. He took one hand off the banister and put it on her. At the press of her warm shoulder beneath the robe, he lost control of his erection for a moment, but he clamped it off before it grew noticeable. "You shared the knowledge you gained in the fortress and every bit of information helps us."
Her breath hitched, and she turned her huge, round black eyes up to his. They glowed in the shadowy light of the hall, her long lashes fanning them even wider. Her face was slack, and he froze, knowing her gift for truth-telling rode her.
"Stand behind the bones of your mothers."
And as usual, her gift made about as much sense as a happy toddler with a biscuit. But everyone kept flocking to her anyway, the lure of knowing the future was so bright. She blinked, frowned.
"I hear your words, Rowan." The look in her eyes grew sad, and it broke him. "Someday we'll find a way to understand your prophecies and your guidance will matter." How it must frustrate her that her life had been torn apart by people who wanted to control a gift that, in the end, meant little because it was so opaque.
Her face wiped into a haughty mask. Her gaze glittered. "I'd like to go back to my room. Water has nothing to say about the war today."
Someday the mighty council leader of the truxet would end up falling to his knees and crying like a smitten youngling to please let him stay with her just a little longer.
"Yes, Lady." He gestured and she walked toward her room. It wasn't quite a scurry, but close.
When she saw her guard, Laing, she broke into a run and threw herself into his arms. Laing looked questioningly at Dom over her tousled black curls.
"Take me back to the room and hold me, Laing. I want to be reminded that some people like being with me instead of my gift."
Laing was still looking at him, so Dom kept his expression bland, but it was hard fought.
Laing dipped his cheek down to lay it on Rowan's head. "Yes, dove." Curling one sleekly muscled arm around her, the groundbear led her into the stone arch.
Dom forced himself to stand and watch her go. His talons ached behind his human-form's nails, ready to erupt and skewer the guard. But in the end the years of rigorous training won out over the heat of unrequited lust, and he walked away with his honor unblemished and his menagerie in chaos.
It was time to free the rogue. May the Six weave ‘round them all, for he very much feared Donte was beyond their call. Dom would do it because his beastspirits were in agreement that the bear did not at all belong to the darkmages. However, he didn’t belong to anyone. Donte, the rogue, mated, lone alpha Bear, was perhaps the only person to ever control all seven elements. May the stars guide him to the vengeance he craved.
Chapter Eleven
The talky-talky about all his wrongs went on forever. Finally, it got through to Donte, where he waited in the center of the council chamber next to the Bear Alpha, that Dom was repeating himself. Donte focused. Oh, he was talking to him.
“What do you say?” The leader looked a little heated. His searing black gaze reminded Donte of their last conversation, and of Dom’s request to rein his attitude in.
So it felt terribly fantastic to thrust his attitude quite a bit higher. “Lots of lies floating around here.”
Growls rumbled through the room. Dom stared him down. His black gaze had a red sheen in the depths. What the Council leader wanted him to say, Donte had no idea. Not that he would have said it.
“Surely you have a better explanation. Your life hangs in the balance.”
“My life was useless from the moment the Council declared I had to choose which part of my soul to kill.” He was strong enough to control all three of his elements to alpha level, damn their traditions. “And I said no.” His lips pressed together, his version of a smile nowadays. “You wasted me then and you’ll waste me now.”
Wolf surged to his feet again from behind Ivor, who turned and with one hand on his shoulder, got him to sit.
Dom folded his arms. “The clans are our life. We sacrifice individuals to hold the clan, hold our mates and younglings. You have walked a hard road, but many before you have found happiness and peace in the same decisions. You chose your unrest when you refused to join one of the elemental brotherhoods. Our ways are not lies. They are controls that work for the whole, so we are not at war amongst ourselves or lost to our dual nature.”
Donte shrugged.
“So?” Dom arched a brow. “Tell us more of these lies you hear.”
Donte gave them the truth instead. “Our beastspirits can ride our human body.”
The round hall erupted with men stepping forward, waving their arms.
“Perversion!”
“Rogue!”
“Piss and Ash, he’s sick!”
The calls came faster and he lost the words, but not the sense of revulsion sweeping the room. A few men turned their backs on him, as if looking at him sickened them. Inside Donte’s mind, Bear lay down on his side, tired of the human drama.
Dom didn’t really restore order, he just called out over the crowd. “We’ve identified you take pride in your ability to slide from rogue and back again. But you know the lack of reasoning in a beastspirit is not something we’ll ever allow among our families. If we functioned on instinct alone whenever we had a whim to do so, we’d be animals.”
�
�No, we wouldn’t.” Fucking close-minded, tradition-bound weaklings. Bear grumbled, his muzzle wrinkling with displeasure that showed his massive fangs to Donte’s interior sight. Donte fisted his hands, twisting the manacles on his wrists. “We’re not animals. We’re truxet. My bear is not a wild bear. He is a beastspirit, with his own power, soul and thoughts. He’s more than instinct. He’s me.”
The Groundbear called out over the mutterings of the shocked crowd. “You invent cloud tales to justify your behavior, stories to soothe your guilt. Next you’ll be telling us there’s no reason we shouldn’t punish you for focusing on your own souldance and seeking out your own match.”
The fucker was a dangerous bully and he didn’t need to be even thinking about Moriko. Donte bared his clenched teeth at the Alpha and the man started for him, but his Shield was there to push him back.
“I needed a key to a City and I found one.” The memory of Moriko’s yes was still tender and didn’t belong next to this public acknowledgment of callousness. But Bear hummed with pleasure anyway. They were all mad he’d broken another rule: Spiritmages shall not use their power for their own gain. This rule he understood. If only spiritmages claimed mates, the other warriors would slaughter them all.
“Brute! Selfish defiler!” The cry rang out from the owl Shield.
Unwisely, Donte gloated. “I’ve got a woman with bigger balls than you have to sponsor me and that’s no lie.”
Alaric’s strike came from behind Donte, as he’d turned away from the man to face the Groundbear Alpha. And even with the blow coming from behind him, he still managed to block it. The hit was so weak it barely stung his arm.
Donte batted the old man’s arm down and met his rheumy, snapping gaze. Lowering his voice to private levels, he whispered to the leader who had sent Donte into exile as a distrusted lone alpha. “You’re one of the lies here, old man. That you’re a source of strength for bears is a big fat group lie and I’ve got no shame in saying so. You’ve got no power to rebuke me so keep your hands to yourself.”