A Soulmark Series

by Rebecca Main

  “Morning,” I say, striving for casual as I walk past them to the far corner of the room. Hushed words are spoken as I stretch, but I don't take offense. This morning my heart feels a little lighter. The burdens I carry, not so insurmountable as last night.

  “Good morning.” I twist and spare Keenan a small smile at his greeting. “I wasn’t expecting you to get up so early.”

  “You have military time. I have warden time.” Keenan nods at my explanation, face unreadable as he watches me continue my warm-up.

  “What were you planning on doing today?”

  “Weights, I guess. I’ll probably go at the punching bag a bit too. Don't worry, I’ll try not to knock it off,” I tell him sweetly, flashing my bracers at him.

  “Can I join you?” The question makes my heart skip a beat.

  “Sure,” I reply. “We can even spar again if you want and work on some of those techniques you taught me yesterday.”

  My throat feels uncomfortably dry as I wait for his response. He’s watching me closely. Too closely for comfort, surely. I try not to let the underlying heat in his gaze shake me, but my throat gives a traitorous bob as I lock eyes with him. He has clearly already worked out, his workout shirt half soaked in sweat, body glistening.

  “I’ll get the hand wraps,” he finally says. I stare at his retreating form, trying and failing to ignore the way the soulmark prickles my skin. I rub at it absently, but it grows stronger the more I seem to acknowledge it. That isn’t good. A fluttering erupts in my stomach as Keenan returns.

  “Here!” I remark overenthusiastically. “Let me.” I reach for the wraps, but Keenan looks at me in confusion, keeping them tightly in his hand.

  “It will be easier if I do it,” he reasons, pulling away from my searching hands.

  I paste a false smile on my face. “I’ve done it a thousand times before on my own. I assure you I'm more than capable of doing it.”

  A frown threatens his face. “You don’t have to do it on your own anymore,” he tells me with meaning.

  My hands still, eyes darting nervously to his. I’m suddenly doubly aware of the shift in the air between us. Last night changed things. Another layer of intimacy has been added to our unconventional relationship. One I can’t deny. Keenan stirs forward an inch, never breaking eye contact as his hands reach out tentatively for my own.

  Goodness, he really is quite… large. Masculine.

  Muscular and tall are an intimidating combination, especially when the face is disinclined to wear a smile. But there is something about his serious attitude that is appealing. No one would ever doubt Keenan’s ability to do anything he set his mind to, and I am terrified to find myself thinking that I'd like to be something he set his mind to.

  It’s just the soulmark, I tell myself with markedly quicker breath.

  Keenan leans in as his hands take mine, his face unreadable except for the smallest hint of wonder. I swallow as I feel the wings of the butterflies drive into a frenzy in my stomach. When had the fluttering turned to butterflies?

  “I know,” I finally whisper back. Something unreadable passes behind his eyes. Something that makes me suck in a sharp breath as his gaze narrows on my lips. For a moment, the world stills. Then, I am surging forward on the tips of my toes to press my lips firmly against his.

  Keenan locks up as my lips move skittishly over his own. I'm not usually so clumsy, but I can barely think with the sound of my heart pounding so loudly in my ear. Then I feel it: shock. It seems to rattle through the soulmark followed by… more shock. With a gasp, I pull back, wide eyed and feeling foolish.

  “Oh my God,” I say, completely mortified by my actions. “I’m so sorry. I thought—no! I wasn’t thinking at all. Just forget I said anything or did anything. All right?”

  I attempt to secure my hand back from his custody, but Keenan holds tight.

  “Don’t be sorry,” he rumbles, easily pulling me back into his personal space. “I’m just surprised.”

  My head shakes fiercely from side to side. “I shouldn’t have done that. I thought you were leaning in. So then I leaned in. I’m so stupid.” I squeeze my eyes shut to avoid his piercing gaze, when his hand squeezes mine.

  “You are not stupid. You’re… magnificent.” My eyes shoot open to stare at him, the moment only lasting for a second, long enough to see his head dive in toward mine.

  Keenan's hand slips behind my head, as his other leads mine to the center of his chest. Relief brings a pleasant sigh from my lips against his. Any previous doubt quickly swept aside as his tongue teases and taunts me. I find myself leaning into him, and his arm steals around me in response. The kiss is languid but thorough. Enough to steal my breath and make my soulmark burn.

  Kissing Keenan feels natural—right, I think. But it’s with this unforeseen realization that I pull back. Beneath my hand, Keenan’s muscles tense, as though he is ready to pounce once more at a moment's notice. And I wouldn't mind at all, I think faintly.

  “Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice pitched low. I shake my head. “I didn’t bite you, did I?” Again, I shake my head. “What is it then?”

  I can’t verbalize a response. Because I don’t have one. Because he didn’t do anything wrong and kissing him is so damn right. The answer resonates deeply inside of me. Another unignorable fact between us.

  “Nothing,” I rasp, holding still as I continue to stare at him. Keenan stares back, his eyes searching for something more than my words can provide. My heart is fit to burst as I stand in his arms, attempting to decode my fight-or-flight response. He must sense my inner conflict for he leans forward and captures my mouth to answer my unspoken questioning.

  His mouth opens just slightly. Enough to cradle my bottom lip between his own, giving him ample opportunity to drag his tongue across it. The taste snaps us both into action, and I am pulled flush against him. I tug at his lip with my teeth, taken in by the hot-branding want coursing so suddenly through my veins. Keenan makes a sound that seems to echo between my thighs. Oh lord. This is so wrong. How can he possibly be making me feel so good?

  The feeling resonates through the soulmark, and I am once more reminded that my life is now dictated by it more than anyone or anything else. Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing if it means more of this. This warmth and comfort, and the sensory overload of him. As his lips continue to work on my own, leaving me deliciously close to breathless, Keenan’s hands tighten down upon me. As if he never wants to let me go.

  I feel myself tremble against him, and suddenly I’m kissing him with a vengeance. Hands grappling his arms and shoulders. Legs securing themselves around his waist. Lips furiously battling with his. Keenan matches my enthusiasm, kissing me as if this is the last time our lips will meet. Like he is ravenous.

  I’m not sure if I want to be devoured, or devour him.

  A heat stirs strongly below my waist, one I am unable to ignore. I maneuver my lips away with a whine, tilting my forehead to rest against his. I need… more.

  “Mark me,” I whisper harshly against his lips. Keenan freezes. His fingers dig painfully into my waist as he frantically tries to read my expression. I’m shocked by my declaration but find myself more shocked at the fact that I have no regret in saying them. The soulmark is already sealed between us. It was only a matter of time before the marking and binding happened. Or so I rationalize to myself.

  “Are you sure?” His voice comes in a ragged whisper.

  The soulmark quivers against my skin, and I give a slight inclination of my head, my heart stuck in my throat as he swoops back down to kiss me.

  His hand weaves into my hair, skewing my ponytail effortlessly as he guides my head to kiss me deeper. I moan against the onslaught and let him lean me up against a wall, my legs locking more tightly around Keenan’s waist. His hands move faster than I can keep track of. They glide over me expertly, exploring every dip and curve to leave me panting. When his fingers slip teasingly beneath the waistband of my workout shorts, I let out
a harsh gasp.

  “The—” soulmark.

  Keenan steals the breath from my body in a harsh gasp as we catapult into a cosmic chasm of feeling and sensation. I submit to the magnitude of the simple touch with a keening noise, head tossing back as my hips drive forward into his touch. Keenan lets out a noise of his own. It sounds with primal need through his throat.

  He allows his hands to wander up my torso, his normally hot touch suddenly scorching. Calloused fingers leave burn marks in their wake as they savor my flesh. My nails dig into his shoulders as he adjusts his stance and creates more space between us. My abdominals tighten in response, and I’m flooded with gratitude over my more muscular build. With some effort, I still manage to grind my hips against his hardened length.

  We both hiss in response, Keenan’s hands catching my waist and slowing my movements to a torturous pace. When I begin to pant from the exertion, he gives a stinging slap to my thigh, his head falling to my shoulder as another growl tears from his throat.

  “I have to draw blood for the marking, Callie,” he whispers harshly.

  I nip at his earlobe in response, breath coming in hot pants over his clean-shaven jaw. It’s all he needs to precede. Keenan closes the distance between us, crushing me to the wall with his body and rolling his hardness against me in such sweet splendor that I near my edge.

  His lips work their way across my shoulder and to my neck. “And now I lay my mark for all to see,” he growls against my skin. “By blood, be one.”

  My cry echoes throughout the room as stars burst behind my eyes, slipping over the edge with only few strong strokes of his attentions. Never before have I felt so alive or connected to something. Not even with the Borealis Matter, but even it will fade from me eventually.

  The bond I have with Keenan won’t. It will never grow weak. Only stronger.

  Keenan’s hands fall to my thighs, gripping me almost painfully. His tongue bathes and soothes the bite mark on my neck. Each stroke becoming softer and more languid than the last, his lips caressing the length of my neck as I settle into his embrace.

  “Knock, knock, lovebirds.”

  My eyes startle open, but find nothing but Keenan’s imposing frame rigid, completely blocking my view. He sends what I can only assume is a murderous expression at whoever has dared to interrupt. The animalistic show of possession, though startling, doesn’t bother me as much as it should.

  “What?” Keenan asks in a clipped voice, one much tamer than the growl he just released.

  “No morning greeting?” The man, whose voice I now recognize as Ryatt’s, lets out a chuckle. “That’s not very—”

  “What?”

  “We’ve spotted one of them.”

  Keenan stiffens, though the movement is hardly detectable. If I hadn’t been so securely pressed against him, I might not have been able to notice.

  “Who?” I breathe.

  “One of the vampyrés. The girl.” I suck in a harsh breath and maneuver myself out of Keenan’s hold with surprising speed. “Which poses to be a problem considering your brother is set to leave quite soon with a certain package.” The ring. Nova.

  “We have to go. Now.”

  Ryatt makes a tsking sound with his tongue, taking a step forward cautiously, his eyes still trained on Keenan’s body language. “If by ‘we’ you mean members of the pack and not yourself, then yes.”

  My heart gives a painful lurch in my chest, a protest ready on my lips when Keenan takes a calculated half step in front of me, partially blocking me from Ryatt’s view, again.

  “She is pack.”

  Ryatt can’t help but spare me a quick once-over, eyes lingering over my neck. A smug smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

  “Indeed she is, brother,” he concedes with a slight inclination of his head. Indeed I am. I can feel the difference… I can feel the pack. They are the strong and steady undercurrent to the soulmark, but it still pales in comparison to the fierce river that is the tether between Keenan and me. I can feel him. Feel his rolling jealousy and possessiveness. Feel the constant pouring of affection directed at me. I wonder if I’m feeling breathless due to it or the news.

  “Where is she?” I ask.

  The wolves pass each other an unreadable look, before Ryatt’s lazy gaze turns back toward me. “The southwest borderline. Near to where we found you and your gang.”

  I ignore the slight and process the information. “Take me there,” I tell them. “Send JJ now, and I’ll distract her.”

  “She’s a newborn vampyré, Callie,” Keenan replies. “She’s too strong. Too fast. We’ll hold off on your brother's release, set up a wide parameter around the vampyré’s location—”

  “No,” I persist earnestly, my hand shooting out to grab hold of Keenan’s arm. The room goes oddly quiet around my next words. “Don’t do that. Send JJ away. Now. But let me deal with the vampyré, please. I… I know her. She’s my friend. She’s the reason we came back in the first place.”

  I turn pleading eyes on Keenan, pouring all my want and hope through the bond until his face softens. He sighs and turns to the third.

  “Well then,” Ryatt breathes, “far be it from me to deny a lady’s deepest desire. I’ll let the big man know, and then we can go.”

  +++

  We navigate the woods on a mix of ATVs and motorized dirt bikes. I ride on the back of an ATV with Keenan, eyes scanning the rapidly disappearing forest line in front and behind of us. The weather gives no reprieve, the rain coming in heavy sheets from the sky, while the wind tosses through the trees with a vengeance. The brigade of vehicles slant to the left as one, slowly spreading out farther and farther from one another to cover more ground.

  “Breaker 1-9, do you copy, Callie?” Keenan’s voice crackles to life in my ear.

  “Affirmative. Over.” Our ATV slows to a stop so that I can hop off, the other off-roaders spearing out into the dreary day. I pass my helmet off to Keenan, squinting into the rain as I stare at my blurred reflection in his visor. Our hand's brush, and the connection between us brightens like a solar flare. “I’ll be okay,” I say softly, knowing my words are too muted amongst the rain, but that our proximity grants him the ease to understand. For a second, a surge of fear plunges through the bond before being snuffed away. Keenan gives me a curt nod, his sentiments quite clear regarding my plan, and peels off.

  I dodge backward to avoid the muddy backsplash, barely able to do so. My brilliant plan is to act as bait and draw her out. To cut a small slice in my skin and hope the scent of my blood reaches Nova before the rain can wash it away. If she came, I would keep her occupied for as long as possible, giving JJ and the ring the time they needed to make it out safely.

  My trusty butterfly blade is tucked into a holster on my side, but Vogart’s blade is decidedly missing. I haven’t been granted access to the artifact, despite my passionate argument. Which means the second, and very much undisclosed, part of my plan, can’t happen. There will be no attempting to change Nova back today, but I can at least tell her of the blade and give her hope.

  Of course, this grand plan of mine works only if all my teachings are wrong. That Nova still possesses her right mind and won’t kill me the instant she smells my blood. If not… well, that’s why the wolves are creating a perimeter, and I have my bracers and butterfly blade.

  With a twist of my wrists, the bracers illuminate, the power of the Borealis called to life from inside of me. I let out an exhale and shake my head. I can’t allow myself to be taken under by the rather intoxicating sensation. If I’m to face Nova, I need to be completely levelheaded.

  “Warden in position, over,” I speak clearly for the mic to pick up as I give a slow walk around the small clearing.

  “Pack in position, over.”