by Kristie Cook
“How else would you merge with one?”
Jonathan’s blood ran cold as he thought of River facing off with a wolf. “You aren’t going to attempt it.”
“Of course I am.” River pushed Jonathan onto his back then laid her head on his chest. “It will be alright. I’ve already begun the bonding process with my wolf. That’s why my eyes glow.”
“And … Eli and Reuben?” Jonathan wound a strand of her hair around his index finger.
“They both merged with their wolves years ago.”
“If Eli managed it, I guess that proves it’s not all that dangerous. Do you use tame wolves?”
“Only cowards merge with tame wolves.” River moved her hand to the back of Jonathan’s head and pressed her forehead against his. He loved it when she did that. “And you, Jonathan McKnight, son of Ephraim, are no coward.”
Jonathan had always suspected Eli was a pig, but this confirmed it. “What happened to the girl and her baby?”
Jonathan was willing to bet Eli was not supporting them.
“Aspen was betrothed to someone else when she mated with Eli.” River dropped her gaze and buried her fingers in the wooly buffalo hide. Her voice was barely a whisper. “So when she confessed that the child she carried belonged to another man, she lost her standing in the tribe and is now a common whore that any man can use.”
“That’s horrible.” Horrible didn’t even begin to describe it. “What happened to her baby?”
“The council auctioned him off to the highest bidder.”
“You can’t sell children!” Was there no end to the depravity of this society?
“The boy is a treasure to his adopted father. He’s also spoiled rotten.” River’s lips curled into an I-know-a-secret smile.
“What about his adopted mother?”
River’s smile disappeared. “She died.”
“I’m sorry.” Jonathan cocked his head to the side. Paul was adopted. Reuben was a single dad. It had to be more than a coincidence. “Is Paul Eli’s son?”
“Eli fathered him, but he’s Reuben's son.”
Jonathan was glad that Reuben had adopted Paul, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d been sold at auction, like a slave. What if the highest bidder had been a pedophile? Jonathan’s stomach churned.
It went against everything he believed in to learn of such evil and do nothing about it.
“What’d they do to Eli?”
“Aspen refused to accuse him of forcing her.” River scooted a little closer to Jonathan and nuzzled his neck. “She even testified that Eli didn’t know she was betrothed to another.”
Jonathan took River’s hand and traced the lines on her palm with his thumb. “That’s hardly fair.”
“The council advised Eli to make better use of the whores and servants already available and to stay away from the daughters of citizens until he was ready to choose his mates.”
“So, basically, he got away with it. Why am I not surprised?” Jonathan squinted his eyes shut. “Wait a minute. Did you say ‘mates’ … as in … more than one?”
“Fertile men with good bloodlines are expected to take at least two mates.”
“So, this is a polygamist cult. Great.”
River leaned back and furrowed her brow. “You don’t know anything about our society or why we do the things we do. We are not a cult.”
“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t change the facts.”
River twisted sideways, angling her shoulders away from Jonathan.
When was he going to learn to keep his opinions to himself? The army had done a pretty good job of breaking Jonathan’s habit of blurting out whatever was on his mind, but he still slipped up.
“I’m sorry.” Jonathan stroked River’s hair. He didn’t know if it comforted her, but it definitely had a calming effect on him. “In the early days of my church, they practiced polygamy, too. They banned it over a hundred years ago, but some people still think the Mormon Church is a cult.”
River glanced over her shoulder and looked at Jonathan out of the corner of her eyes. She wasn’t exactly frowning at him, but she sure as hell wasn’t smiling. “Are you a Mormon?”
He nodded. “But … not a very good one.”
That got a smile out of her. It was only half a smile and she was fighting it, but Jonathan knew it wouldn’t take much to win her over completely. He grinned, flashing his dimples on purpose.
River bit her lower lip, but released it immediately instead of chewing on it like she normally did. She traced her lip with the tip of her finger. “Ow.”
“Sorry about that.” Jonathan smiled. “It’s from all the kissing.”
River licked her lips. “It was worth it.”
“Stop that, or I’m going to kiss you again.”
River’s eyes drifted closed as she leaned in.
Jonathan had already used up all his self-control. If things got heated up again, he didn’t think he’d be able to stop. Not if River wanted to keep going.
He gave her a quick peck on the nose so she wouldn’t think he was rejecting her then scooted back and formed a small barrier between them by tucking a foot under his knee. “If it’s okay for men to use servants and whores, and Aspen belonged to another man, why did Eli mess around with her?”
River sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “I think Eli enjoys playing games of seduction and since the whores can’t refuse him, there’s no challenge. The servant girls never turn him away, either.”
“What’s the difference between a servant and a whore?” Jonathan fought to keep his face neutral. He wanted River to keep talking. If she guessed how much this information disgusted him, she’d clam up.
“A whore can’t refuse to lie with any man, it doesn’t matter whether he’s an alpha or an omega. She has no chance to earn or reclaim her citizenship. It’s a punishment. But a servant is considered a part of a family’s household and cannot be pursued without the permission of the head of the house.”
“What do you mean pursued?” Jonathan hoped it didn’t involve some sadistic, predatory game, although it wouldn’t surprise him if it did.
“A servant is not a whore, so she retains the rights to her own body. It’s against the law to take a servant girl by force. But most of them seem to enjoy mating as much as the men.” River quirked her mouth to the side and furrowed her brow. “It could be that they’re just hoping the men they seduce will like them so much they’ll claim them as a concubine and free them from servitude.”
The more Jonathan learned about New Eden, the more he despised it. It didn’t matter what you called them. Servants or whores—they were still sex slaves. And they needed rescuing. “Tell me more about this son of Ephraim legend.”
River got out of bed and pulled what looked like an old leather journal out of her pack. “Reuben loaned this to me, so be careful and don’t tear any of the pages.”
Jonathan glanced at the date on the top of the page. June 15, 1855. This must be one of Reuben’s ancestors’ journals. He felt guilty for handling it without wearing a white glove. Sweat broke out across Jonathan’s brow as he read the hand written passage River pointed to.
Ephraim’s mother knew of Zebulon’s jealousy. She tried to protect her son, but she was only human. Even if she were one of us, she wouldn’t have been able to defy Zebulon. So when Ephraim disappeared, she assumed that Zebulon had murdered him. Her grief multiplied my guilt.
“Wait. How old is Zebulon?”
“Don’t worry about that now. I’ll explain it later.”
Jonathan shrugged and returned to the journal.
I watched her suffer for two weeks until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Last night, I told her the truth. This morning, I heard her singing a new lullaby to her infant daughter. Even though the song is only the product of a broken mind, it has such a haunting melody. The words are almost prophetic. I can’t get them out of my head.
Ephraim’s Song (The Forbidden Lullaby)
Look to the
East in your darkest hour
For a humble man to rise to power.
Heavy of heart and body broken,
He carries his grief in a crystal token.
When the white wolf answers the call of fate,
And merges with the son of Ephraim’s mate,
Let all good men know the time is nigh,
And with courage and honor, heed the battle cry.
Many shall suffer because of a few
‘Till Ephraim’s line once more is renewed.
The son of Ephraim unaware of his fate,
Must find and bind his one true mate.
Evil hearts shall tremble with fear
During the Great and Dreadful Year.
But courage and hope fills the righteous heart
When the son of Ephraim’s rein doth start.
Jonathan read the song again then handed the book to River. “That’s one weird lullaby.”
“Reuben said that it caught on, and soon all the women were singing it. Until Zebulon heard it and banned the song. Of course that only insured that it would be passed down through the generations.
Jonathan lifted his hand to the medallion around his neck and turned it over.
River’s eyes widened until they were as large and round as the medallion. “What is that?”
He told her about the dove ceremony at Franklin’s funeral and how he’d had the feather encased in resin. “This is a constant reminder of Franklin’s death.”
“Ephraim’s mother must have been a seer … or a witch.”
“It’s just another coincidence.”
“How many coincidences will it take before you believe it’s true?”
The disappointment in River’s eyes pained Jonathan. “I don’t have to be a son of Ephraim. I’ll do whatever I can to free you and your people from Zebulon’s control.”
“Will you be my mate?”
“You want me to marry you?”
“We don’t marry, but it is a lifelong commitment.”
Jonathan’s mouth went dry. He’d been attracted to River from the first moment he saw her facing down a mountain lion with a primitive bow. He smiled at the memory then compared it to how Carrie had run away and locked him out of the car after he’d saved her from the wolf. River never would have done that.
It wasn’t just her courage that Jonathan admired. River spoke her mind, even if it wasn’t always pleasant, at least she was honest. She focused more on other people than herself. Just thinking about the apple she’d given him formed a lump in his throat.
Jonathan liked River. He liked her a lot. But did he love her?
The realization hit him all at once. Yeah, he did. He definitely did.
He took River’s hand in his and locked his gaze on her glowing eyes. They had the usual effect on him, but something even more powerful than lust scorched his veins, now—love. “I would be honored to be your mate.”
Purple light flared out from River’s eyes. She grabbed the front of Jonathan’s tunic and pulled him up onto his knees. “You’re mine.”
Whoa. “Are you trying to stake a claim or something?”
She traced the bite mark on Jonathan’s neck with her tongue. “I already have.”
Jonathan’s eyes rolled back in his head. Damn, that was hot. “So … why the freakout over thinking you were pregnant?”
“I haven’t merged with my spirit guide yet.” River tugged on Jonathan’s shirt, guiding him back onto the bed. “Pregnancy would prevent that from ever happening.”
He sat beside her, but refused to lie down. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
River smiled. “I know.”
“Are you going to tell me?” Jonathan had already figured out that it was some secret coming of age ritual. He just didn’t know the details.
She slid her hand under his shirt and ran her palm over his abs, distracting him. “Not yet. But soon, I think.”
Jonathan grabbed her wrist and pressed her hand over his racing heart—on top of his shirt. They were lying down again. How does that keep happening? “Does this becoming mates thing mean we get to have sex?”
“Definitely.” River slid her knee between Jonathan’s.
“When?” Please say now.
“After we merge with our spirit guides.”
“What?” Jonathan blinked, not believing he’d heard her correctly. “What do you mean ‘we’? I don’t have a spirit guide.”
“You will. Reuben and Gabriel are searching for him right now.”
“And how, exactly, am I supposed to merge?”
“You embrace your wolf, skin to fur, and subdue him.”
Jonathan pictured the huge wolf that had chased him and Carrie out of the mine. He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his elbow. “You’re talking metaphorically, right? You don’t expect me to wrestle an actual wolf. Do you?”
“How else would you merge with one?”
Jonathan’s blood ran cold as he thought of River facing off with a wolf. “You aren’t going to attempt it.”
“Of course I am.” River pushed Jonathan onto his back then laid her head on his chest. “It will be alright. I’ve already begun the bonding process with my wolf. That’s why my eyes glow.”
“And … Eli and Reuben?” Jonathan wound a strand of her hair around his index finger.
“They both merged with their wolves years ago.”
“If Eli managed it, I guess that proves it’s not all that dangerous. Do you use tame wolves?”
“Only cowards merge with tame wolves.” River moved her hand to the back of Jonathan’s head and pressed her forehead against his. He loved it when she did that. “And you, Jonathan McKnight, son of Ephraim, are no coward.”
River
Once Jonathan agreed to be her mate, River had to keep reminding him that they had to wait until after they’d merged—something she was having trouble remembering herself.
“Jonathan.” River wiggled out from under him. Again. “I think I better sleep in my own bed.”
“Don’t go.” Jonathan rolled onto his side then slid his arm around River’s waist. He spooned his body around hers then rubbed his chin against the top of River’s head—another dominant behavior. “I’ll behave.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“How will I know when the merge thing is done? Is it a fight to the death? Do I have to kill the wolf?”
“Yes and … no.” River hated what merging would do to her wolf. Its spirit would live in River’s body, but it wouldn’t be the same. Even the gift of an extended lifespan was a poor substitute for freedom.
“That’s about as clear as the water in the mud pit. Care to elaborate?”
“You won’t believe me.”
“Try me.”
“Trust me.”
“River …” Jonathan growled her name.
River turned her head and exposed her neck instinctively. A flush of heat spread from her scalp to the base of her throat. Reuben was the only male that had ever triggered a submissive response in her. And Jonathan hadn’t even merged yet. It both thrilled and frightened her to know that she would be bound to the most powerful alpha in the pack.
“How am I supposed to know what to do if you don’t tell me?”
“Merging is instinctive.” River touched the bite mark on her neck. “I didn’t tell you to bite me, but you did it anyway. Merging will be the same.”
He kissed the mark on her neck. “I can’t believe I bit you.”
“We don’t normally exchange bites until after we merge and mate.” River kissed the mark she’d left on his neck. “But there’s nothing normal about this situation.”
“You can say that again.” Jonathan’s chest vibrated against River’s back as he chuckled. He sighed then grew quiet. His breath tickled her ear. “So, you aren’t going to give me any tips or hints or anything?”
“No.”
“You just expect me to jump in a cage with a wolf and hope my ins
tincts kick in before it kills me?”
“Pretty much.” River snuggled closer. “And then we can mate.”
Jonathan groaned and gripped River’s hip. He held her in place as he pushed himself away from her body. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re right. We need to sleep in separate beds.”
River rolled over, kissed Jonathan soundly then climbed into her own bed. She was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. It didn’t help that she’d left her tunic and pants on to make things easier for Jonathan.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or the warm, wet feel of his tongue and the tugging sensation as he sucked the apple juice from her fingertips. Just thinking about it made her heart thump against her ribs. And when he’d actually bit her neck? Oh my almighty Alpha above, what a feeling!
River kicked off her blankets but couldn’t escape the heat. She cracked the window then held the neck of her tunic open, directing the cold night air between the fabric and her naked skin. She crawled back into bed and flopped onto her belly; but couldn’t get comfortable. She stared into the darkness until her eyes adjusted enough to reveal Jonathan’s form. At first she couldn’t see any details, just his silhouette, an outline of his head and body, like a shadow cast on the wall. River lifted her hand and reached across the room as if she could touch him. She wanted to feel those soft curls slipping through her fingers again. She wanted to trace the straight line of his jaw and every feature of his face. The need to touch him was so intense it was painful.
Jonathan called her name then mumbled something incoherent.
River smiled when she realized he was dreaming about her.
He tucked his arms under his blankets and hunkered down until all River could see was his mop of curls.
How could Jonathan stand all those blankets? He had to be burning up. River raised the window another three inches then crossed the room to check on him.
His forehead was bone dry and cool under her palm. When she tried to remove the buffalo robe, Jonathan shivered and yanked it out of her hands. He buried himself even deeper, curling up into a ball. How could he possibly be cold when the hut was as hot as an oven?