“The art?” Rhiannon asked blankly.
“Oh yes. There are many different forms of torture, many different ways to extract information. I am not usually used in such a manor but it is something I am fully capable of. If you need it.”
“Splendid,” Aaron said sarcastically. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now,” Rhiannon said with a smile Cymbeline did not like. “Back to mating.”
“Enough.”
“Are you a virgin?”
Cymbeline’s face heated at the blunt question. “What? Why— How is that any of your business? What does it matter?”
“I only ask because the mating process can be quite…vigorous. Or so I’ve heard. I’m not mated. But you said you were isolated for a long time and—”
“It is not any of your business,” Cymbeline repeated.
“I’ll assume yes, then.” Rhiannon made a note on her smart phone.
“Assume whatever you like. I am not discussing this and don’t write it down like something out of a therapy session.”
Rhiannon placed a concerned hand on Cymbeline’s knee and asked, “Do you need a sex education lesson?”
“No!” Cymbeline shook her knee to dislodge Rhiannon’s hand, her annoyance on the rise. “I do not need that. I am fifty-nine years old. I think I know how fucking works. Thank you. Lecture over.”
“Not over. You need to hear this as you’re a virgin.” Cymbeline’s aggravation wriggled the lock on her tightly bound emotions. She growled at Rhiannon’s ceaseless barrage of unwanted information. “As the mating progresses without consummation the sexual tension increases, influencing the body to give in to the mating.” Rhiannon eyed her. “You get that? You’re gonna get hotter and wetter every time you see Kerrick and try to ignore the mating call. Your Wolf is also going to get more and more feisty. You might start to spontaneously shift.”
“I am in far more control of my Wolf than to allow a spontaneous shift.”
“You won’t be able to help it,” Aaron added, “Your Wolf will want to be near her mate and she will take over come hell or high water especially since you are in such a deep state of denial.”
“I am not in denial. There is just no possible way I would ever consummate a mating, if there even was one, with the Alphar. I am the Incendiary—”
“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Aaron grumbled.
“I live a solitary life so I may assist the Weres of this territory in living peaceful lives. I am necessary to your way of life and I sure as hell do not mate! Now unchain me, goddamn it!” Her breath came in rapid bursts and her heart pounded. She realized she was standing and had been shouting, the tips of her fingers had turned to claws. Her tongue touched two sharp points on her teeth. She was losing it. She had to be more careful. She could feel the reason for her emotional training hovering on the periphery of her consciousness, waiting for Cymbeline to lose control and destroy all in its path.
She schooled her expression and sat back down, taking a few deep breaths to regain at least an outwardly calm demeanor. “Excuse me. I would like some time to myself now.”
Aaron and Rhiannon exchanged looks before standing and moving towards the door. Aaron turned back before exiting. “Listen to your Wolf. Trust her in the choice she’s made. Kerrick is a good man. He’d make you happy.”
“I do not doubt his character. But there is no room for negotiation on this subject. Please go.”
As they shut the door Cymbeline grudgingly turned her attention inward and listened to the keening cries of her Wolf, calling out for the mate they had yet to claim. What would it be like? To have someone to come home to after a hunt. Not to be surrounded by endless silence and just waiting for the next target. In the end, it just didn’t matter. She knew who she was and what she had to do. It was bad enough she had already broken the rules of not becoming emotionally attached back home…and look where that got her. One more break of the rules and she’d find herself in an even bigger mess.
Cymbeline thought of the small girl waiting for her back home, the scrawny thing most likely hiding out in Cymbeline’s cabin. She couldn’t stay here much longer, the weight of her responsibilities too heavy to take a small vacation and get to know her mate. Gods, that word. Every time she thought or said it, her Wolf cried out in equal parts need and joy. Cymbeline felt it, but she didn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand how one kiss could make her body need so sharply, make her hair stand on end and her core turn to molten lava. It wasn’t fair that after years and years of training, she’d finally adjusted to and accepted the kind of life she was going to have, and then he was thrown in her path. Dangled in front of her like some treat she could never have. Her own personal addiction.
He was just a man. A man who apparently loved playing string instruments of every variety and had two cousins who loved and respected him, who would die for him. He was a man whose force of will turned the spiritual tide of his territory. Efficiently beating down the remnants of chaos so completely that there had been zero reported rogues in the past few years since the power from his ascension waned. Not a single rogue in three years was close to a miracle. She hadn’t dealt with zero rogues in a year since…never. There had always been at least three per year and those numbers increased as her tenure as Incendiary continued.
Was she doing the right thing, refusing him so completely? What if her refusing him affected his rule, turned the tide of his territory back into the frenzied miasma of Riddan’s rule? Was it her responsibility as his chosen mate to make sure that didn’t happen? She shook her head, standing to run her hands along the tiny guitar’s strings, as she’d done a hundred times since gaining the strength to walk again. She could never mate the Alphar. How would she ever know she’d chosen him for herself, and not out of guilt or responsibility to keep the territory safe?
Later that night, after Lottie had brought her food and checked her vitals for the evening, making sure the Vryk poison wasn’t causing any delayed side effects, Cymbeline sat on the sill of one of the many large windows in the room. Whoever constructed this room really had an understanding of a shifter’s needs. It had no artificial air, needing none as opening the windows alone created the perfect cross breeze, making the room feel like it rested in the middle of an open field, surrounded by wilderness.
She sat with one leg bent, her elbow resting on the knee and hand cradling her chin. She ran her thumb up and down the old scar alongside her neck as she tried to come up with ways of escaping, her memories constantly intruding and forcing her to think back on all the men and women she’d hunted over the years, most of them rogues. The rogues were the hardest to kill. They were pure blood-lust animal, their human minds completely evaporated and their animal side taking over in the worst way. No conscious, no care for the ones they used to love. It was a blessing Cymbeline didn’t need to enmesh herself with friends or family, she couldn’t imagine doing what she did and having to look in the eyes of the ones who knew the rogue. As it was she pitied the team Aaron had assembled to take down the rogues they’d had after Riddan died, not knowing it was her responsibility to take care of it.
The wind shifted, bringing an intoxicating scent blowing through the windows and making her heart stop. The Alphar was out there, running the property. What if she was out there with him? She longed to know what that felt like, running with a friend or someone she loved. A shadowed figure stopped just beyond the gate, the tapetum lucidum reflecting light back into his eyes and making them glow. Many humans and even some preternatural species ignorant of shifter biology thought this was some physical evidence of magic in their shifted bodies, and yes, while the shift was in essence a magical construct, the light in the eyes of animals at night was pure, boring biology. Nothing special there, she knew that. Except when the eyes reflecting back at her held a core of strength and represented everything she’d never known she wanted or needed.
T
he Alphar stayed there, staring at her for so long until he jerked his head, beckoning her to come to him, asking her to run. Cymbeline smiled, sensing he would jump to her window and break her chains if she said yes. She appreciated the invitation but shook her head in a decline nonetheless. She turned from the window and sat in front of the fireplace instead, watching the embers crackle and snap until the sun rose the next day. She’d seek the Alphar out tomorrow and beg for him to remove the cuffs if she had to, but she couldn’t remain there any longer. Cymbeline would rather relinquish any pride she had left and beg to run away from him than have the tantalizing promise of what he was dangled in front of her, reminding her of what she wasn’t allowed to have.
Chapter Seven
The following day, Kerrick walked briskly down the hallway leading to his room, the light and cool breezes drifting in from the open archways were little comfort to him that morning. He had planned on sleeping in a guest room close to his own the previous evening, especially after hearing of the outburst she’d had during her talk with Aaron and Rhiannon. But he couldn’t sleep, not with the knowledge his mate was so close to him yet so far, denying him over and over again.
So he’d run, taking comfort in the familiar smell and feel of cool grass at night, the crickets chirping and small nocturnal creatures poking their noses out to take a sniff of him. He understood the importance of connecting with the wild creatures in the surrounding areas, they saw more than most of the intelligent species would give them credit for. But this was their territory as well as his, the planet was theirs and had been before humans learned magic and evolved into the unique and powerful creatures they were now.
Her denial of a run with him had given him a new determination to make her see him, a new outlook on the situation. Yes, he was busy with the escalating Vryk tensions as his conference with Carter the previous day had ended with a bad call from Mara, recalling a reluctant Carter back to her. If he were a normal shifter, or even an average alpha of a pack, his people would understand him setting aside any and all pack matters to get to know her. Kerrick wasn’t able to do that, a war with Mara would be too devastating on the delicate balance he’d created for his people the past few years. He wanted to push it all aside and focus on Cymbeline, and his closest confidants—his family—were offering to help in any way they could.
It was hard for Kerrick to delegate even the easy things to Rhiannon and Aaron, no matter how capable he knew them to be. Hell, his head soldier Jeremiah was more than qualified to handle emergencies. That morning, as he’d discussed some mansion matters with his top people, even Lottie had asked if there was anything she could do for him to give him time with his mate.
“She’s not that scary, Alphar,” she’d said with a small smile on her gaunt face, her frizzy curls falling from the bun she’d thrown them in not ten minutes prior. “You need to get to know her or this won’t end happily.” Lottie had taken his hand and nuzzled her face against his palm, a small gesture of love from a pack member, a woman who worked harder than most at The Mansion, no matter how ill or tired she was. “We want you to be happy.”
So with a stubborn yet grateful agreement, he’d delegated to his most trusted soldiers, and in the end he was able to put aside his worries. It didn’t matter whether they were Captain, physician, or Magic-tech like Zach, these people were his greatest warriors. He thanked the fates for them every day, and hoped he’d never lose sight of how important they were to him as his years as Alphar passed. If he had a mate, she would remind him. The kind of fierce mate Cymbeline would be wouldn’t let him forget. The thought of her chastising him for taking one of his people for granted made him smile, a small peek into what their life could be like. But he wouldn’t have a life with her until he got to know her and she accepted him.
He reached the bedroom door and sighed, he really was fucking terrible at this mating crap. He held his hand up to knock on the door, but paused as the image of her sleeping on his bed flashed through his mind. Gods, her scent would be on his sheets. Did she sleep naked? Probably. She was contained and reserved on the outside, but he could see the wild, animalistic warrior beneath the façade. There was something to be said for accepting a challenge she’d silently presented him with. It gave him a buzz of excitement thinking of ways to make her finally accept that he was hers, and he’d never give up on her. No matter how many times she denied him, he’d still be there for her. It had the potential to be a disastrous existence, but he’d do it to keep her.
Resolve fortified, Kerrick knocked on the door, entering only when he heard her give permission. Cymbeline sat with her back to him on a window seat, staring out the glass and dressed in the generic workout sweatpants and T-shirt Rhiannon had left her. They kept a countless amount of spare clothes on hand in case a Were lost them during a quick shift. Her hair was loose and curled around her head like a puff of clouds. It was slightly frizzier than it had been when he first met her. He preferred this relaxed and wild look. He didn’t want to see those airy curls controlled ever again, this woman was meant to live wild. Every time he saw her there was something new he’d notice that made him want her more and more.
“Are you going to stand there and stare at me all day or are you going to tell me the reason for your visit?” She kept her gaze on the window but Kerrick would bet a small fortune she wasn’t seeing anything in front of her.
“How are you feeling today?” he asked, coming around and sitting on the bed across from her. She kept her gaze averted.
“Well, operating at full capacity once more.”
“Good, I didn’t like seeing you in that state. You’re a fighter, a warrior. Losing the use of your limbs is suffocating.” She gave him an odd side-glance at his words but didn’t respond. Seeing that she wasn’t about to bring up her denial of a run with him the night before he decided not to push. “Now, I would appreciate it if you put these on.” He tossed a pair of thin silver cuffs onto the bench. She picked one up, sniffed and turned back to him with a glare. It was a like a punch in the gut having those gold-ringed eyes focused on him, even in anger. He wanted her, this dangerous and sexy woman.
“More magical restraints? I think I am well and truly your captive, Alphar.” She let the cuff fall from her hand and onto the window seat. “Talk about suffocating, I can’t even shift.”
“These will replace the ones you’re wearing. Can’t walk around The Mansion with a magical chain trailing behind you.”
“No, that position is already held by you.” He smiled at her acerbic comment, enjoying her bite. It may have been an insult but it was also a hint of personality and humor. He’d take what he could get. His words caught up with her after a few moments of glaring. “Walk around The Mansion?” she finally asked.
“Yes. I’m giving you a tour. Those will keep you unrestrained and free to move about The Mansion, also allowing you to shift. But they will still keep you from hurting anyone who resides here and from leaving The Mansion boundary, where the fence is. Unfortunately we haven’t been able to find any record of you in Riddan’s files and I can’t let you free to come and go until I know for sure you’re not a threat. I’m sorry for that, but I’m responsible for those living here.”
“How does this keep me from going beyond the fence? Is it going to shock me like an electric dog collar?”
“Nope. Something much more embarrassing. Trust me,” he said with a grin on the bad side of evil.
She frowned, considering him for a moment. Eventually she nodded and turned towards him, holding her arms out. Kerrick took the cuffs from the seat and placed the first on her left forearm. He made sure to brush and skim her skin as much as possible, being firm yet gentle. Outwardly, she evoked an emotionless automaton, but he could scent her arousal, the way her skin heated at his touch. She wanted him, no matter how hard she was trying to deny it.
As he placed the second silver cuff on her right arm, Kerrick could visibly see a struggle to
keep her breathing smooth and even, and all this just from the anticipation of his touch. He took longer to snap it into place, holding her under her elbow with one hand and placing the cuff with the other. He watched the seam of the cuff magically disappear as it connected. The metal glowed a subtle green, indicating its magical activation.
Kerrick looked into her eyes, rubbing the tip of her elbow with his thumb as he held it, tracing his fingers across the smooth skin of her forearm and down to her hand. Her mouth parted, taking in more air with every stroke and touch of his fingers. Kerrick kept his eyes connected with hers as he bent to kiss her palm. She closed her eyes briefly when his tongue peeked out to taste her. It took all his strength as Alphar to not take her then and there.
Kerrick stood and dropped her hand, needing the space to keep his wits about him. He traced his forefinger along the metal of the chained, clunky cuffs and released them with a pulse of his magic. They snapped open and fell from Cymbeline’s wrists, as Zach had promised they would once he’d tuned them to Kerrick’s power signature. The long chains disappeared and they returned to their normal length, no larger than traditional police handcuffs.
“Come on,” he said walking towards the door. “Do you have shoes?” He knew they took her boots away, wanting to inspect them for hidden tracking devices or weapons. They’d found zero trackers and six lethal weapons. She had definitely come prepared.
“Rhiannon was kind enough to supply me with these…garments.” She held up a pair of flip-flops that were decorated with sparkles and Hello Kitty symbols.
“Pink suits you,” he said, trying and failing to hold back his laughter. “And they’re called sandals or flip-flops.”
“I know what they are. I was merely showing you my disdain for the ridiculous shoes by not calling them by name.” She let them fall to the floor and placed her small feet into the straps.
“So by not calling me by my given name, are you showing me respect for my position or disdain?”
To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1 Page 9