Mated in Treason

by Christa Paige

  “Guess only peons call me that. In loftier circles, I always went by Kane. But that’s too damned informal for your kind.”

  Gunnar looked over his shoulder at Andros. The slender whelp gyrated with his head thrown back and stringy hair whipping about. He danced on a small stage where a shiny gold pole was affixed, bumping and grinding on the human who was obviously in a mind-bending stupor. “And he’s formal enough for you?”

  Kane shook his head. The loose strands of his mahogany hair fluttered around his shoulders and those eerie eyes narrowed. He straightened broad shoulders, the seams of his cotton shirt pulled with the motion. His chin lifted and nostrils flared, as he smirked with a show of fangs. “They call me şefi.”

  Gunnar choked back the laugh of disbelief threatening to spill out. He cleared his throat, “As in tarikat şefi?” As in top dog, as in commander, as in the synonym for Komutani.

  The bastard nodded. Holy hell. When Andros had gabbed on about a possible threat to Aleksi’s leadership, Gunnar would’ve never, in a million years, thought it would be Iskander Demir. “So, you’re the one leading this uprising?”

  Kane shrugged. “For now.”

  “What the fuck’s that’s supposed to mean?” Gunnar was itching to just punch the male until the rage passed into something a bit more manageable.

  “It means for right now I’m the one you want to talk to about that pretty little nurse and your mating dilemma.” The male’s smugness grew to a full-blown conceit.

  “Something tells me it isn’t going to be as simple as you tell me what you can do and I go about my business.” Gunnar exhaled through his nose and pursed his lips, keeping his fangs locked behind his closed mouth. Showing any aggression at this moment did not bode well for his plight.

  Kane scratched his jaw and dragged a knuckle across the dimple on his cheek. “I never said we could help you.”

  Jolting out of his seat, Gunnar yanked his jacket from the back of the stool and tugged it on. “I’m not playing games with you, Kane.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “If you can’t help, just say the word and I’m out of here. I’m fucking tired; it’s been a hell of a day.”

  In a flash, Kane stood before him, blocking his retreat. Gunnar considered teleporting away just to keep from murdering the male but he went with option B: Waiting.

  “Do you know why I helped those human scientists?”

  Dark shadows rimmed his vision and a cold sweat pricked Gunnar’s skin. It had been decades since they’d fled Abkhazia, since they left behind everything and found refuge in the USA, but it still hurt. The memories hadn’t dimmed in the least. So many had died. The screams of helpless females still plagued his dreams. And what they’d done to Traian… Gunnar shook his head. Don’t go there, he warned himself. “Enlighten me,” he managed to reply. “Do tell.”

  “Anisa,” Kane’s tone deepened, emotion laced each letter of the female’s name.

  A fragment of memory slid into Gunnar’s mind. Cherubic features, blonde hair in a long sheet to a curvy waist, Anisa was known for her joyous demeanor. “She was one of the females taken to the labs.”

  A sheen of moisture clouded the vibrant green of Kane’s eyes. He blinked and his features turned harsh. “That was never the plan.”

  Gunnar was tired of the cat and mouse game Kane was playing. “Why don’t you stop dragging this whole thing out and just tell me what the hell it is that you want me to know.”

  “We were to be mated. I loved her.” Kane bit into his lower lip and his fingers curled into a tight fist. “I’d gone to Davran Komar. He was the Kartal then, and just like his son, Ivan, he’s a tyrant. He wouldn’t help us. She was beneath me. I’d never be allowed to mix my genes with hers. Davran then told me I’d be called in soon for the next blood-rite to some female I didn’t want to be chained to for eternity.”

  Gunnar could relate. Though, he hadn’t had the same conversation with Ivan, the odds were he’d say the same damned thing Ivan’s father had said to Kane. “Why is that a surprise? We don’t do things like love. It’s always been the blood rites. Survival of the fittest.”

  “More like survival of the richest,” Kane sneered and cracked his knuckles with a loud pop. “I’m not one who gives up. I wanted Anisa. She was my mate. Even though we were never able to complete the bonding, she was mine. When she died, I should’ve followed her, but I was denied even that.”

  Well, that could have easily been arranged by any number of the kraliyet, Gunnar mused to himself. “So you helped initiate the annihilation of our entire race?”

  Kane swiped a loose strand of hair from his face and Gunnar noticed the grayish lattice marks webbing his hand and wrists. Traian had a few of those nasty scars made by strings drenched in acid. There was more to Kane’s story then he was letting on. All Gunnar could do was wait for the other male to continue.

  With a shaky indrawn breath, Kane pinned an intent stare on Gunnar. “I had friends, those who had the skills and equipment to test for compatibility. They were the sons of the Elders who were Kan Asma scientists. My friends learned at their fathers’ sides about the old rites and procedures. I was going to mate Anisa despite Komar’s threats, so I asked them to help. I couldn’t risk her life and I asked them to see about our compatibility. Then, I found out that my blood would kill her. I couldn’t stop the rage that tore through my body when they told me it was my fucking DNA that would prevent our blood bond. That it was me who kept us apart. I wanted a solution. I wanted a god-damned cure.”

  “You couldn’t stand the idea of watching her be mated forever to another male. The idea makes your blood run cold as ice and speeds up your heart rate until your vision clouds and fury whips through your thoughts,” Gunnar spoke more to himself than to Kane. Oh, he understood. All those feelings were his constant companions. “I don’t know how I’d deal with it if I found out Nadia had been summoned.”

  “You’d be prone to murder. Right?” Kane’s pitch lowered, humbled.

  Gunnar nodded succinctly. “Yes,” he replied without hesitation. It was the cold hard truth. Forget Traian, the kraliyet he’d served his entire maturity. Forget his culture and identity. He would kill any male who touched Nadia.

  “And that’s why I’m willing to help you.” Kane offered, holding one hand out in a gesture of acceptance.

  Gunnar took it and gripped tight. “These friends of yours, can they still determine compatibility?” He needed to know. If Nadia couldn’t be his, if his blood would kill her, she at least had to be given the chance to make a choice: To take what they could of each other and unite themselves or step away and accept the blood rite when she was summoned.

  “Yes,” Kane’s grip loosened and he stepped closer. He tipped his head to the side and scrutinized Gunnar for long minutes before continuing, “Are you willing to jeopardize everything for your female? Because, I was.”

  “I’d give up my life to ensure her happiness,” Gunnar declared wholeheartedly.

  “Good, I’ve been waiting for the best opportunity to show our followers exactly what we can achieve without the Council and those shit-stain Elders. You have given me the perfect example.”

  Our? Gunnar thought; who else could be involved in this underground movement. Right now, he must concentrate, keep his head down, play along. “I’m not agreeing to anything until I know the terms.”

  Kane smirked, fang tips jutting into his lower lip. “Bring your female to our next gathering. There, I’ll give you the terms.”

  The male stepped back and took purposeful steps toward the bar. “I don’t have to warn you of the consequences if you squeal on us. It won’t just be your head that rolls. It will be that lovely nurse’s too and I will let Andros have at her first while I force you to watch.”

  Sheer rage scorched through his veins at the threat to Nadia. Kane was a nasty motherfucker with a broken conscience and vicious killer tendencies. All those combined to make a ruthless leader. Hell, things had gone from worse to catastrophic. “I w
ant her as mine, Kane. I’m not an idiot. I won’t do anything to jeopardize our mating.”

  “Very well, then, you’ll hear from me soon.” And right then, without even a pause, Kane vanished from the room.

  Gunnar glanced around and watched Andros snorting a line of cocaine straight off the stripper’s throat before baring his fangs and tearing into the artery there. What the fuck had he just got himself into?

  On that messed up thought, he focused on his townhouse and in a blink flashed himself straight into his bedroom. His head hit the pillow as his body sank into the mattress. Hopefully, sleep would knock out his headache. Because, he was pretty damned sure he’d be getting another one tomorrow.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nadia watched the nail technician’s precise motions as she painted a white tip on each nail. As each step of the spa process was completed, her stomach twisted tighter and an ache in her temples beat incessantly. At some point, she’d tuned out her mother’s rambling. She’d also developed an obsessive/compulsive habit of staring at the hands of the clock as they ticked away the hours and drew her closer to the meeting with Ivan. Nan had suggested a light lunch but Nadia refused. Her mother guessed it was the nerves that’d killed her appetite and she was totally right, but not in the same way. She was so nervous that somehow Ivan put her at the top of the list and she’d have to tell Gunnar the awful news. He’d be livid.

  That brought a slight grin to her lips. Imagining his rage, the territorial possessiveness and the male aggression made her insides riot in need of him. Flutters in her belly radiated downward to the sensitive flesh between her legs, and she had to shift a bit to relieve the tension, earning her a derisive sniff of disapproval from the technician.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled but her mind wandered to Gunnar again and she bit into her lower lip recalling the way he’d touched her, the scrape of his fangs on her throat, the kisses that stung but enticed at the same time. He’d only given her a taste of the pleasure being with him offered and her thirst grew for more. She wanted more than just satiation. She yearned for Gunnar to take her, uniting them in body and in blood. An irrevocable binding.

  When her mother had roused her a bit after two in the afternoon, the first thing she’d done was check her phone. Seeing Gunnar’s text bolstered her and she’d painstakingly typed out another reply, making sure to avoid any hint of her impending meeting with the Kartal. She’d found the courage to ask if she’d be lucky enough to see him again, soon. So far, he’d not responded. He’s most likely asleep, Nadia reassured herself.

  The manicurist set Nadia’s left hand down and turned a fan onto her glossy nails. With a gesture, she asked for the other hand and Nadia complied, once again glancing at the clock. Beside her on the little side table, where her purse was tucked safely away from the threat of water in the footbath, sat her phone and sunglasses and an unread Style magazine. When her phone chimed, the urge to reach over and get it was instinctual. The tech wasn’t so inclined and her fingers tightened preventing Nadia from snatching the cell up and reading the message. Damn it!

  It took the woman a few more minutes to paint each coat and finish off the French manicure before she rolled back on her stool and dumped all her equipment into a pink caddy. Nadia waited until the tech turned away and she reached across herself with her left hand and grabbed her phone. Disappointment speared through her when the text was a group message from her friend inviting her to the Goblet Ceremony Shower. Nadia swallowed down her frustration. Of course, she’d go to her friend’s shower. Of course, she’d continue to play this charade of a happy go lucky Kan Asma female. Because, any alteration from that would be a serious red flag. She just wished the fetters of the society would be broken, that matings were because of love matches, that the genetic manipulation was abolished and their people were free to choose the paths of their lives without a council overseeing them. So, she wanted to be a human?

  No, of course not. She’d happily go about her days mated to Gunnar, living within her community, and holding traditions dear. She couldn’t imagine a world where her sons weren’t bestowed hammered golden coins for each of their years past maturation or the traditional birth ceremony of the decorated hawthorn cradle for the birth of a coveted daughter.

  She wanted the best of both worlds.

  “Should we serve achash, or khachapur after the mating?” Dalia mused aloud.

  Nadia let out a frustrated sigh. Who cared if they served cheese pies or cheese dumplings? She’d suggest pizza and beer if only to throw her mother a curve ball, but trying to keep the peace, she simply shrugged.

  “There must be matsoni with the berries and I have already commissioned the drape with the Kan Asma embroidery. It will look pristine underneath the golden goblets and then as a focal point for the celebratory feast.” Nan went on, her exuberance accenting each syllable of her statement.

  “We shall have to visit Costco and stock up on meat for roasting.”

  “Uh huh,” Nadia mumbled, allowing her mother to continue rambling about a goblet ceremony feast that Nadia had no intention of taking part in. If she ended up forced to walk to that altar and choose a goblet, and, if by some evil twist of fate, she survived, there would be no celebrating for her. The idea of being with a male she didn’t want almost felt like a violation of her personal choice, and it made her cringe just imagining the intimate details. He would want her blood and her body. A shudder rippled through her and Nadia grit her teeth attempting to block the images of such an experience out of her mind. At the same time she came to a firm conclusion…she wouldn’t allow this to happen to her. She wasn’t a youngling who needed her family’s support to provide for her needs. She wasn’t a helpless child with no education or skills. Growing up in the USA meant she had all the right diplomas and transcripts and licenses. She could make it on her own.

  She could, damn it.

  “I know that look, kiz. All females want to run away when their time comes near. You’ll do fine, Nadia, dear. It’s the way of our people since the beginning.”

  How much longer ’til this damned fingernail polish dried? Nadia wanted to get out of the spa and clear her head, go on a brisk walk, and talk to Gunnar. He would tell her everything was going to be all right. Just hearing his voice would reassure her and keep her going. Hell, why hadn’t he texted back yet?

  “Now, since we have some time before our meeting, I’ve arranged for your hair to be taken care of and those eyebrows. No need to worry about your clothes, I’ve got that handled. You’ll be the picture of elegance and beauty.”

  Maybe on the outside but within her psyche she would be a raging lunatic.

  “Oh, Nadia, I’m so happy, dear.”

  Finally, Nadia gave in to the urge and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Nan.” She jumped from her seat, slipped her lotion-slicked feet into the flappy, disposable flip-flops and grabbed her stuff. Anger swarmed inside her veins and she didn’t think she’d be able to keep a lid on it anymore. She strode to the door and flung it open welcoming the loud street traffic and visual stimuli of billboards, taxi cabs and throngs of people. The familiar scent of exhaust and smog invaded her nose.

  Without a care for her newly-polished manicure, she brought out her phone and scrolled to Gunnar’s number. She held her breath as she dialed him and bit into her cheek as it rang.

  “Kjaere.” Gravely and deep, Gunnar’s tone gave away his present condition. You woke him up. Good going, Nadia, she chastised herself.

  “I’m sorry I interrupted your sleep. I…I just needed to talk to you,” Nadia rambled into the phone.

  “I’m listening,” he reassured in a thick rolling accent. “Is everything okay?”

  No. It’s not. “Yes,” she muttered. “I miss you.”

  He groaned and it rumbled through the phone. “All I’ve been dreaming about is you, here in my bed, wrapped in my arms. I miss you, too.”

  Her lips curved into a smile and heat spread across her cheeks as she imagined what he left unspoken.
“Was that all you dreamt?” Not the best time to flirt, but she gave into the impulse anyway.

  His breath echoed through the receiver. “God, Nadia, if only you were here, I could show you exactly what I was imagining.”

  “Tell me,” she demanded in a breathless whisper. “Just a little, please.”

  “You were beside me, your body naked and stretched out, eager for my touch.”

  Nadia slumped against a brick wall, the images he spoke of weakening her knees. “And, you touched me?”

  “Yes, kjaere. I touched you.”

  “Where?”

  “First, just along your hip. I slid my fingertip further, dipping across to the curve of your belly and to the soft down of your curls. Then lower.”

  Her throat constricted and she groaned at the imagery bursting into her mind.

  “You were so warm, inviting. God, Nadia, I wanted you. All of you.” His throaty rasp enticed her and she too wanted what he described.

  She drew in a shallow breath. “Did you…” Her propriety got the best of her before she managed to utter something completely erotic right there on that busy street.

  He made a guttural sound. “Yes, I did. Over and over, until we were both spent and sated. I wish it hadn’t been a dream.”

  Her breasts had swollen against the cotton of her sports bra. Between her thighs, a throb intensified. “What would happen if we did? I mean, without the serum and blood sharing?” Her body needed Gunnar and she couldn’t stand the idea of waiting for however long it took to figure things out before she experienced the deep pleasure of making love to him.

  “I don’t know.” The gravity of her question made his tone gruff and deep. “But, we can try, if you want to.”

  She squeezed the phone tighter. “Oh, Gunnar, I do.”

  “Tonight, then, kjaere.”