Mated in Treason

by Christa Paige

  “There you are. The Kartal is ready for you. Please follow me.”

  Dalia was on her feet and all but jogging to catch up. Together, they walked through a set of double doors and into a smaller hallway that was darker and subdued. Three doors gave off into more rooms. At the third one, Karina stopped and opened it, indicating they should enter. Nadia followed Dalia into the room and anxiety twisted through her. She found the closest chair and dropped into it. Dalia took the one beside her.

  “He will be with you in a moment.” Karina set a manila envelope on the top of a small glass table and left the room with little flourish.

  Nadia took in a deep breath and tried to find something to distract her, but there was little in the way of distraction unless looking at her feet through the glass table surface qualified. She rested her hand on the tabletop only to snatch it back when she left a handprint on the spotless glass. Using her sleeve, she quickly rubbed the mark away and settled her hands in her lap.

  The space was precisely square. Walls of slate gray paint and stark white stripes offered a sterile cold vibe. One low shelf bisected the wall behind the desk, its chrome surface shiny and dust free. A rectangular black box sat directly in the middle. Beside that was a tall cylindrical bottle of clear liquid topped off with a cork stopper. Couldn’t they put some flowers in there to spruce up the place and hide the industrial scent permeating the room.

  The minutes ticked by. Three, then four, then fifteen. She watched the clock on the wall tick down another minute and another.

  Surprisingly, her mother remained quiet and oddly contained. She stared at the wall with the shelf and the box. Nadia thanked her lucky stars for her mother’s lack of conversation. Right now, she didn’t think she could muster any type of discourse.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The door opened without a sound and Ivan Komar stood in the threshold. He was taller than she’d realized, probably because she couldn’t bring herself to look at him completely the last time they spoke. He crowded the doorway with his massive body and broad shoulders. Again, he wore a precisely tailored suit, the midnight blue jacket had a high collar much like the clothing worn in their village many years ago. The points brushed the sharp edges of his jaw and accentuated the raven black hair at his nape. His ebony silk shirt had silver pinstripes and it hugged his frame showing a glimpse of perfectly honed chest muscles. He was strong, power incarnate and as he moved into the room, the temperature plummeted to a definite chill.

  “You’ve been summoned to determine your eligibility for a mating.”

  Nadia simply gaped at him, too overwhelmed by his authority to even speak.

  “Evet efendim, Kartal.” Dalia dropped her eyes, bent her head in utter supplication. “My daughter is of age.”

  “I can see that. Don’t waste my time with redundancies.” Modulated, clipped, and dominant, his firm tone promised retribution for noncompliance.

  Her mother simply nodded, Dalia’s obeisance radiated from each pore in warm waves tinged with the scent of submission. It smelled like apple, benign and simple.

  Nadia’s stomach rioted. Her throat closed up tight, she could hardly even swallow. She watched as Ivan strode to the chair opposite them and sat. He grabbed the folder and emptied the contents on the table. Lifting a document, he scanned it for a moment and set it upon the folder. The tip of his tongue slid out and moistened his lower lip. It was more predatory than sensual, as if he was testing the air for the scent of her fear.

  “Dalia Lakave.” Ivan tapped the paper with his long finger. “I see you decided to change your name when you accepted American citizenship.”

  “Yes, my lord Komar. It made for easier pronunciation.” Dalia fidgeted with a bobby pin holding her hair back at her temple.

  “It makes for easier camouflaging of your true status. Even the lowliest peon can blend in with the princes of society in this messy culture. But it does not hide your simple roots, kadin.” He thumbed through the loose pages and drew out a yellowing piece of parchment. “Lakavba. That’s more efficient. Lowly, just like your lineage.”

  Dalia sat back with a sharp intake of her breath.

  Dumbfounded by the pace of this tedious meeting, Nadia summoned courage and leaned forward, one arm braced on the table for support. “Forgive my ignorance about the proceedings of this consultation, Kartal.” Something deep inside her DNA had her lowering her chin, eyes focused down and off his enigmatic visage.

  “Depends on what stupid question comes out of your mouth, Miss Lakavba.” His accent drawled out her name evoking long-buried memories of her life in Abkhazia as a young girl when she ran freely through the village with her friends. The only cares she had back then were whether they could slip into the sacred berry thicket unseen where they’d play make-believe pretending to be the First Mates imbibing on that now extinct fruit that made them all into preternatural beings. She longed for the simplicity of her youth.

  Before she spoke, she measured her words with careful deliberation, “Is it simply my bloodline that determines my eligibility?” If so, they could do the whole process through Ancestry.com, saving her hours of apprehension.

  Dalia’s cold fingers settled on her thigh and squeezed a warning. Nadia tilted her head and risked a glance at Ivan. His eyebrows were inky slashes over his veiled eyes. His lips pursed giving the hollows under his cheekbones a sinister look. She gritted her teeth together and tried not to ask anything else rambling around in her thoughts that Ivan Komar could ascertain as stupid.

  He leaned back in his seat, draped one arm over the back rest and settled the other on the tabletop. “The females of this society demand information which allows for a certain corruption of their innocence.” He drummed his fingers in a slow, hypnotic cadence. “There were times when a female came to the council and remained silent during the entire meeting. Consigned to her fate and the choices of the Elders, she dutifully returned home and awaited our summons for a mating ceremony. You ask for knowledge, and yet I’m quite assured the information you seek will only serve to frighten you. I don’t waste my time on histrionics or tearful entreaties.”

  And normally she didn’t waste her time on misogynistic assholes with OCD tendencies. Mikhail’s warnings echoed in her head and she kept her jaw firmly shut. The only thing she feared was being found out before she and Gunnar could be bonded. Nothing Ivan said or asked or insinuated could cause her to lose control and cry. So, all she did was nod in compliance.

  “Very good, unless directed otherwise, you will answer my next questions with a simple yes or no.” Ivan straightened and tugged a chrome tablet from his suit pocket. He scrolled through a page and clicked on an icon opening what looked to Nadia like a checklist.

  “I have here that you are educated with a BSN and licensed as a Registered Nurse. Your scores for the National Council Licensing Examination were in the top tier and you currently work for Dominic at our hospital.”

  Nadia opened her mouth ready to answer as he directed when he held up his hand to cut off her reply.

  “The doctor has issued a letter of summary indicating your competence in many of the medical areas, including trauma surgery and obstetrics. There is a note that you attended my Aunt Leyla Komar with professionalism and care during her birthing of the young Aliya. He also indicated that you have never unduly missed a shift and take your work sincerely.”

  Nadia bit into her cheek waiting for Ivan to finish the recitation of her resume. She wasn’t sure when she was supposed to speak either. Now, she understood why the poor females before her never said anything during their meetings. The autocratic Kartal probably scared the words right out of them.

  “You attended Fairfax High School with above average GPA and SAT scores. Despite your peers attending the private school the Kan Asma prefers for our younglings, your education seems adequate.”

  Was he going to go all the way back to the elementary school where she got caught lying at recess and ended up in the principal’s office? Nadia didn�
��t want to think of how creepy it was that Ivan knew all these details of her life when she’d never authorized a background search or allowed him access to her records.

  “So, you’re intelligent enough.”

  Good to know, Nadia bit back in her thoughts.

  “Your parents have no redeeming qualities.”

  Nadia braced for her mother’s reaction to the insult but Dalia remained impassive in total submission to Ivan.

  “There’s little money and no real assets to bring to a mating.”

  Fine, Nadia would sit through this embarrassing background check and go with the flow. Obviously, Ivan found her circumstances below standard, which meant she couldn’t be mated anytime soon. Like not until all the females above her were mated or some apocalyptic event wiped them all out. The way he spoke about her indicated she was way, way down on the list, close to the bottom. The freedom of that knowledge had a shimmer of hope ebbing through her veins. Long before she’d be eligible, she’d be mated to Gunnar and this whole process would be a hiccup in her life.

  “You are of age.” He droned on.

  Good to know she hadn’t hit an expiration date, yet.

  “There was a brief fling with a human male during high school.”

  Dalia’s sharp intake of breath had Nadia turning to her mother. Her cheeks were ashen, lips pressed tight together as she rocked a bit side to side. “Nadia, you didn’t.” Venom laced her whispered declaration.

  Nadia rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help it. Poor Matisse, he’d been a geeky awkward boy his freshmen year and they’d made quick friends on the bus ride to school. By the time they hit their junior year, he’d grown up, became the president of the Key Club and offered to give her a ride to school in his beat up Nissan. They’d barely explored a relationship because her fear of being found out by the Council made romantic feelings hard to enjoy. So, she shrugged. Not like she could change the past or anything.

  “Onunla yattın?”

  Ah, hell, her Turkish was rusty. Did he just ask her if she slept with Matisse?

  She simply stared at Ivan, doing nothing to hide her confusion.

  “Are you still a virgin?” he asked with clear, precise enunciation.

  Not after tonight, she thought in defiance. “I’m surprised you don’t have that information already listed on your tablet,” she replied irritably.

  One of his eyebrows arched, nostrils flared and his posture went rigid. Oh yeah, yes or no’s only. Sheesh. She nodded. “Yes.”

  “That will need to be verified at some point.” The directive wasn’t poised at her but instead at Dalia, who simply lowered her head in acquiescence. The absurdity of which was not lost on Nadia. What would they be doing to check, some creepy GYN exam? A shiver careened down her spine at the prospect of something so invasive and archaic.

  “Are you willing to accept the three possible mates that the Council chooses for you?”

  Not a snowball’s chance in hell, Nadia promised inwardly. “Yes,” she muttered like an obedient child.

  “What are your expectations in a blood-bound mate?” He’d steepled his fingers and tapped them to his lips waiting for her answer but his countenance said he didn’t really care what she wanted.

  Nadia thought about Gunnar. She loved his strength and vitality. She was so attracted to the soldier within him. He was caring and adoring, his desire for her evident in everything he said and did. She wanted a mate who would love her, eventually. Not just suck her blood, do his duty to procreate and leave her alone to wallow in a never-ending cycle of loneliness, exploitation and subservience. This time, when she went to answer she did it with much more caution. “I’ll be content with whomever the Council sees fit to match me with.” She suppressed the urge to gag on that huge lie.

  “You will be submissive and give to your mate what he needs, when he requires it.”

  Right, that one was more of a warning than a question but she nodded anyway.

  “At this time do you have feelings for or attachments to any male within our society?” Ivan watched her with eagle-eyed intensity as if he expected her to lie. As if he somehow already knew her intentions with Gunnar. Her stomach flipped over, twisting in dread.

  She decided to skirt the truth but not lie entirely. “There have been some flirtations with a male employed within the kraliyet.”

  Ivan made a sound in the back of his throat that bordered on a derogative slur. Right, he wouldn’t be tying her to someone with highfalutin genes. Instead of saying anything more, he tapped the screen of the tablet and a page clicked open with a little chime. “We’ve been given intel that Izak has propositioned you, is this true?”

  Nadia had nothing against the sentinel. She didn’t want him to be in trouble for their misunderstanding. “Izak has never been inappropriate. Though, we have had many nights of work together. Recently, he helped to diffuse an incident when my male patient attempted to use veiling to trick me into a… situation.”

  Ivan set the tablet down and watched her closely. “The patient?”

  It was probably wrong to spill confidential hospital information but if she didn’t Ivan Komar would find it anyway. “Andros.”

  “You would not want to be mated to him?” Ivan surmised from her less than happy tone.

  Nadia shook her head real fear percolating in her gut. “No, please. I beg of you, Kartal. Please don’t put me in a position where I could choose him.”

  “So you do have some preferences?” Ivan inputted something on the little keyboard, swiping the letters in rapid succession.

  “I suppose, I’d want someone who’d respect me. Care for me. Wouldn’t force me into things I don’t want to do.” Didn’t all women want that?

  “This concludes the paperwork. All that’s left is the blood sample.” Ivan tucked the tablet back into his pocket and stood in an elegant motion. His broad shoulders were squared off and his sharp chin held high. The beauty of his genetics faded in the cold austere mien. He really didn’t feel a shred of any emotion regarding her circumstances; she was simply a business transaction.

  Nadia stood, too, and Dalia came to stand beside her, thin fingers laced about her wrist, trembling. “Is there a lab or something we go to? Do I need a form for this blood draw?” she said more to herself than to Ivan.

  Ivan cocked his head to the side, his thick black hair brushing the edge of his collar. Those deep eyes focused on her and seemed to assess her straight through to her soul. He blinked and turned his notice to Dalia. “You’ve come prepared?”

  Her mother inclined her head. “Yes, of course, Kartal.”

  Nadia retrieved her purse and slung the strap over her shoulder ready to get this blood test done and the meeting over with. But her mother only grabbed her bag and set it on the table and Ivan remained standing there like an unmoving pillar of marble, cold and devoid of feeling. He crossed his arms over his chest and remained stoic. “I’ve summoned Karina and she will arrive momentarily with our Council technician.”

  Oh right, he’d called for Karina telepathically. Ew, yuck, Nadia considered the ramifications of having the Kartal inside her head. Poor Karina, that female must have nerves of steel.

  Obviously, they weren’t going anywhere and Nadia decided to just take her seat again and get ready. She slipped out of her tailored silk coat and folded it over the back of her chair. The nurse in her was two steps ahead of everyone as she inspected her arms for the best vein to tap. She found what she thought would be a good stick and dragged her fingers over it, looking for stability. Yup, once the tech got there, she’d point it out, hold still and be on her merry way.

  A moment later, the door opened again and Karina escorted a tall male into the room. He had sandy brown hair brushed over in a poof boy band style. Freckles dotted both sides of his nose and hazel eyes gave away that he was in no way a youthful male. There was age in his gaze. Knowledge and intensity, as well. He took long strides and moved behind Ivan, retrieving the box on the shelf. After setting it upo
n the glass table, he brought the cylinder over, too.

  Odd, not the most sterile environment for a blood draw but she didn’t feel inclined to protest. Her mother sat beside her and opened her purse, the zipper a loud creaking noise in the uncomfortable silence. She withdrew a satchel and tea bags. Lipton. Earl Gray.

  “Please sit back in your chair, özlemek. Rahat olmak.” The male’s Turkish was beautiful, the inflection lyrical as he asked her politely to be comfortable.

  “Please don’t call me Miss. I’m Nadia.” She tried for amiable conversation.

  He paused in his motions of removing the cork from the bottle and nodded his head once. “Davit.”

  “So, Davit, there’s a good vein right here,” she pointed to the spot near her wrist.

  He didn’t say anything but removed from the box a small vial of white sand that looked a whole lot like sea salt and thumbed the rubber stopper off the top.

  Dalia came to stand beside Nadia. Her mother’s fingers soothed up and down her shoulder as if offering some type of moral support. Suspicion reared up in her thoughts and her throat tightened as she imagined some rusty blade being used to cut into her flesh. When she leaned over enough to look into the contents of the box, other than a set of wooden chopsticks and a bowl with a cheesecloth cover, there weren’t any medieval type daggers there. Maybe Ivan had that one stuck somewhere the sun didn’t shine. A nervous giggle slipped out and she pushed her palm to her lips silencing the panicky sound.

  When Dalia’s grip tightened on her upper arm, Nadia flinched and glared her displeasure. Instead of telling her nan to cut out the claws, she jolted. The fear clouding her mother’s eyes struck Nadia silent.

  “We are ready, Nadia,” Davit said softly.

  She whipped her head around, fearful of what she would see there in front of her. Except, there was nothing but a white cloth and the chopstick device.

  “Your right arm, please.” He held out his hand and waited for her to comply.