Sweet Submission

by Desiree Gelsi

  She pounded her fist on his chest again. “How can you agree to this? It's barbaric!” She looked into the forest. She wanted to run away again.

  "Kita,” he whispered, “look at me, sweetheart."

  She sniffed, raising her blue eyes to catch his stare. In an instant a vision flooded her mind. She saw herself wrapped in his arms, surrounded by his comfort and strength as he held her. She was safe, protected.

  "It's going to be alright, pretty baby, trust me ... trust your father."

  She shook her head, “how can you say that? Ramsey will kill you, and he knows it!"

  "Have more faith in me, Kita.” He smiled, and words that he had never spoken before fell from his lips, “I love you, and I'm not going to lose you."

  Kita drew away, completely thunderstruck.

  She stammered, hardly able to speak, “How can you say that when you won't even touch me right now?"

  He chuckled, whispering lowly so that only she could hear him, “Do you remember when Ramsey shot you with that poison dart and you couldn't move your arm?” She nodded, and he continued. “I think that's what your father just shot me with. I can't move from my neck down..."

  She gasped, somewhat relieved as another tear rolled down her cheek, “Oh,” she blushed. She should have known.

  "Kita, we have to go,” her father advised from behind her.

  Her throat tightened, “I can't stay here?” She knew the answer, but she had to ask.

  "No, your mother is worried.” There was sudden warmth in his eyes that Kita couldn't see with her back turned, but Sasha saw it well, “she wants to see that her runaway daughter is safe and sound. If I return home without you I'll never hear the end of it."

  Kita nodded, swiping at the tears escaping the corners of her eyes. Although she knew that her father wouldn't let her stay, it didn't hurt any less to know it. She grabbed Sasha's limp hand, holding it as she backed away. She smiled halfheartedly, looking into his gold eyes. He winked and gave her that charming boyish grin that made her swoon. Her heart raced, and adrenaline flooded through her.

  In an instant she had thrown her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. She kissed him madly, as if making sure that he wouldn't forget about her while she was gone. She pulled away and he licked his lips, tasting her kiss on his tongue.

  Teardrops glimmered in her eyes, “I love you, too, Sash. Don't let me down.” It was a plea.

  She turned then, walking with her father through the snow as he led her away. She crossed the river where Yuri had, gracefully moving across the rocks until she was on the other side. She stopped to look back. The snow was still falling heavily, but somehow she could see Sasha through it. He had sunk down against the trunk of the tree.

  "He'll be fine,” her father said as he took her elbow gently in his hand. “The toxin will wear off shortly."

  She nodded, feeling her heart becoming heavy already. She slowed, thinking to herself. In a few weeks it would be spring. By all reasoning it wasn't that far away, but she knew that it would feel like a lifetime. She sighed. Sasha could be her mate. She could be a part of this beautiful place. Her stomach did a little flip just thinking about it.

  She pictured herself sleeping next to Sasha, safe in his arms. She could wake, still in his arms, and not have to worry about running or hiding. She would have a family. She would have a mate that loved her, that would never hurt her. Despite the cold around her a warm feeling swelled within her, like a burst of sunlight in her soul.

  A voice broke her thoughts, and just like that her ball of sunshine was popped.

  "When you're my mate we'll have to work on your little dominance issues, Nicky, you'll have to keep that sassiness confined to the bedroom."

  She threw her eyes sideways in surprise, quickly narrowing them to a glare. Ramsey had slowed and was walking beside her.

  "I will never be your mate, Ramsey.” She walked faster, trying to get away from him.

  "You won't have a choice, kitten, Sasha will be dead and you'll be mine.” He sighed absently, “it'll be a beautiful thing, the beginning of a perfect alliance between were-cats and werewolves. We'll be indomitable."

  She glowered, wishing that she could kill him herself, to hell with waiting for Sasha to do it. She eyed him with disgust.

  "You talk as if we can actually breed, Ramsey. You know damn well that we're too different.” She spit words from her mouth with deliberate venom. “If you mate with me you'll never have children, and all Alpha's want an heir to their throne. Do yourself a favor, Ramsey. Spare your life and leave me alone. Find yourself a she-cat before spring, because if you come back here Sasha will kill you."

  A sinister chuckle rumbled from his throat, “Sasha isn't going to kill me. He isn't even in my league. And as for breeding, don't be so pessimistic, kitten. You and I are going to make a great pair. I look forward to what we'll create together, Nicky."

  She pulled away from him, wishing that the trees weren't so close together. “You're sick, Ramsey."

  "Can you imagine it, Kita? The claws, the teeth, and the stealth of a panther ... but the stamina, the adaptability, and the ferocity of a wolf...” His eyes became distant, and they deepened with dark intent, “Together we can create a whole new species of shape-shifter, something greater than either of us."

  "Get the hell away from me, Ramsey. You're out of your fucking mind."

  He chuckled again, “Don't be afraid, kitten, just listen to what I say and I can make you very happy.” The smile slipped from his face. “But if you're disobedient ... I will do just the opposite."

  She glared at him. There was darkness in his eyes that made her tremble deep inside. She had seen that darkness before in him, just before he had shot her. Fear, deep and instinctual sent her blood racing, and she pressed herself closer into the dense trees that were suddenly making her feel claustrophobic. In the heavy snow she couldn't walk fast enough to get away from him.

  "Ramsey,” Her father suddenly called from ahead of them, “come and walk with us."

  "I thought I'd give Kita some company, Mr. Yurikov.” He replied with a sly smirk.

  Her father tensed, she could see it in his shoulders.

  "Kita doesn't need company, Ramsey. Besides, her brother is going to keep her company.” There was a protective quality in his tone, and when Ramsey didn't respond he added, “in werewolf society the higher ranked members walk ahead of the lesser ones ... we lead the way."

  Ramsey finally acquiesced, hurrying to catch up with them. She looked at their backs as her brother slowed to match her pace. He walked quietly along beside her as she thought to herself. Why had her father called Ramsey away? Did he know how uncomfortable he was making her? Why had he sounded so protective? She frowned in confusion. No, he wanted Ramsey to do as a good Alpha male would do. He wanted him to lead the way. A shiver trailed up her spine.

  They walked in silence for a long time, passing through the passage between the mountains, and all the while the snow just kept falling. She felt sick and sore by the time they reached her fathers black Cadillac which was resting in a remote area on the side of the road. The snow had been plowed, but now the car was buried in the heavy white powder.

  She felt her brother's hand squeeze her side before he moved to help dig the car out of the snow.

  "Kita,” He whispered as he passed by her, “Our father is doing what's best for you, and I wish you'd realize that."

  "No he isn't. He's doing what's best for him, and that's it,” she said angrily.

  He smiled warmly, “You're wrong, Kita, you're wrong..."

  CHAPTER 16

  Sasha sank down against the tree. The feeling in his legs had been lost long ago, and sheer determination was the only thing that had kept him standing the whole time. He hadn't wanted Kita to see him weak and vulnerable, and it had taken every ounce of willpower that he had just to stay on his feet.

  But she was gone now. Seeing her disappear like a ghost into the snow the same way that she had firs
t appeared made him feel terribly alone. It had been a lifetime since he had felt so forlorn. He swallowed painfully as his throat constricted, trapping air in his lungs until it burned. The last time he had felt like this had been the day that his parents and their pack had been murdered. The sick feeling returned in his stomach, agonizingly burrowing into his gut, reminding him that he still had sensation in his body.

  A vision swirled in his head, as clear as if it were yesterday. He saw himself, twelve years old, standing in the meadow outside of the home of his youth with his brothers. Ivan and Yuri were unaware that something was wrong, they were younger, and more naïve, but Sasha had known that something wasn't right. He'd never forget it. The smell of blood was in the air—it was the first time that he had ever smelled the blood of his own kind. For years he would still smell the blood, lingering as if it were attached to him. After that, every time he saw a stranger all he could smell was blood.

  He remembered that strange numb feeling, standing there, staring at the house while his brothers continued to play behind him. He saw members of a visiting pack leave. The visitors were supposed to be allies, but on that fateful day they became enemies. He watched them go, knowing that something was wrong, but he couldn't bring himself to get close to the house. A couple of them had even looked at him as they left. There was no compunction in their eyes. Cold, heartless eyes ... he had the chance years later to get his revenge, but even in their death, his enemies had cold, heartless eyes.

  He shivered unconsciously. He had finally got up the courage to go to the house when it was nearly dark. The rustic log home had always been a symbol of warmth and comfort to him, but now it was dark and cold. There had been no chimney smoke, no lights in the windows, no voices calling them inside when the sun began to set.

  The memory was so clear. It pained him to think of it, but now that the impression had begun it refused to stop. He remembered reaching the front steps and seeing a single bloody footprint on the porch. He should have stopped there, but he didn't.

  Nothing could have prepared him for the carnage inside the house. His family, everything that he had known and loved was gone. The visiting pack had slaughtered everyone who had been in their way, even children ... it came slamming down on him, that same hurt, the sick twisted feeling of knowing that he was suddenly on his own.

  Seeing Kita go had brought that awful memory back to haunt him. He was losing that warmth, the comfort of someone he loved. It was if his world had come crashing down on him and all he had left was the space around him. The wind echoed softly around him, blowing the snow like a white curtain across his face. He couldn't feel his legs. All he felt was the tree against his back, and all he saw was the white veil in front of him.

  He swallowed, struggling to move his body. He was going to get Kita back though. No matter what, he wasn't going to let her go. He'd fight for her, and he'd die for her.

  With sheer grit he forced himself up once more, finally forcing the sensation back into his numb limbs. The snow was heavy, blocking his sight. He had traveled these woods for so long though that he didn't need his eyes to find his way home. It was instinct and habit that allowed him to make his way through the familiar trees.

  After what felt like hours he finally reached the house. His hands were still numb, and even opening the door was a chore. Stepping inside, he was immediately embraced by the warmth of the house.

  A shadow was beside him instantly. He could feel the worried stare on his skin as the wet snow that was resting on his clothing melted away. He didn't need to see who it was. He knew by the worried stare and the patient silence as the man's eyes examined him just who it was.

  Without looking he spoke, “what's wrong, Kiser?"

  The healer shifted subtly, “where's Kita? Why are you alone?” He lowered his voice as his keen sense of smell caught something. “You smell like a sedative."

  Sasha nodded ruefully, trying to hide the pain that he was feeling inside, “her father came to take her home."

  There was a brief pause, “what about the sedative I smell?"

  Sasha's lips pursed for a moment in thought, “He was afraid that I might not give her back willingly, so he shot me with some kind of tranquilizer dart."

  Kiser raised his brow skeptically. “Would you have?"

  Sasha sighed, “What? Given her back willingly? Of course not..."

  "So what happens now?” Kiser asked as he drew in a deep breath.

  "What do you mean?"

  The healer let a soft chuckle slip from his lips, “c'mon, Sash, I've known you since we were little. We've been friends ever since I can remember. We've hunted and fought side by side ... I know you better than that.” He cocked his jaw to look at the leader, “you don't just let something that you want go without a fight."

  Sasha let a smile steal across his lips for the moment. “Her father is returning in the spring, along with a man who was supposed to be her mate.” His smile slid away as he studied the healer's calm face, knowing that his calm demeanor was about to change with his words. “He's the same man who killed our pack mates and shot Micah."

  Kiser's eyes went wide in a moment of surprise. He had never voiced it, but he knew that there must have been a connection between the two strangers appearing at the same time. He just never thought that would be the connection.

  He rocked his head casually to the side. He didn't hold anything against Kita. Like Sasha he knew that it was the hunter who had caused the death of their pack mates, not her. He glanced at Sasha. The leader was waiting for a response from him.

  "So that's why he was here.” He shrugged, “no wonder she was running from him. He's a killer."

  Sasha blinked in surprise. He had expected his pack mate to react differently. There was another long moment of silence.

  Finally he shifted stiffly, grimacing as he moved, “he's going to pay for what he's done, though. After killing four innocent people and shooting Micah...” His lips curled in a snarl, and his expression went from one of pain to hatred in an instant. “And he shot Kita ... I'll kill him for that."

  Kiser stepped back, minding his distance between himself and the Alpha. He waited, watching as the tension began to leave his leader as pain again resurfaced.

  Sasha gritted his teeth. The numbness that was finally draining away from his body was now being replaced by an aching in his muscles, and he struggled to tell Kiser about the agreement that he had come to with Kita's father.

  Kiser listened quietly while Sasha talked. He could hear the pain in the Alpha's voice as he spoke, and out of habit he offhandedly busied himself with making a warm compress for him.

  He nodded solemnly when Sasha was finished. A fight to the death was a serious matter, and he didn't have to say it for the leader to know that it was cause for uneasiness. No one within the pack had ever had to fight with another shifting species. A were-cat was an alien enemy.

  Sasha swallowed. In the silence that passed the same thoughts were plaguing him. He had no idea how to fight a were-cat. He didn't know Ramsey's weakness, his strength, or his fighting style. He didn't know anything about him, except that he was ruthless and volatile. He was also a barrier that kept him from Kita.

  He moved away from the door, finding his strength as he left the entranceway to step into a nearby den. A warm fire was blazing at the far end of the room in a hearth, and its heat warmed his sore muscles as he sat down on a heavy wooden framed couch that was padded by lush animal furs. Kiser followed him. It didn't surprise him when the healer sat down beside him, but it did raise his concern. It meant that Kiser had more on his mind.

  There was silence as they sat on the couch side by side. Even when Kiser handed Sasha the heated medicinal wrap that he had prepared for his aching muscles there was utter quiet.

  Kiser's thoughts had drifted elsewhere, and he finally broke the silence to voice his concerns, “if you're killed we won't have an Alpha. We'll be vulnerable.” He hesitated, on the verge of words that could get his tongue
torn out if he spoke too soon.

  The healer had to be careful of what he said. He was in no position to question Sasha's decisions. He knew that Sasha wasn't just fighting the hunter for revenge, he was fighting for Kita. He wanted to ask if she was worth the risk, but he knew the answer. Sasha wouldn't fight for her if he didn't think she was.

  "What are you talking about, ‘we won't have an Alpha'?” Sasha questioned incredulously, “If I die you're next in line. You'll be the Alpha, Kiser."

  Kiser shifted uneasily, “I don't want the position ... so don't die."

  Sasha looked away into the hearth that was burning brightly on the far side of the room. He certainly wasn't planning on it.

  * * * *

  Spring was slow in reaching the valley, and for awhile Sasha was certain that it would never come. The snowfall had come even heavier in the final months of winter, as if making up for the mild weather that they had enjoyed earlier. The heavy snow proved more useful than Sasha had anticipated though. Hunting in the thick white powder made his muscles tough and hard, something that simply sprinting through the forest couldn't do.

  He drew in a deep breath as he sat on his haunches, watching as the wolves in front of him snarled and growled, lashing out at one another as they practiced their fighting skills. He eyed them assiduously, never removing his gaze from the fighters.

  He wasn't taking any chances, and once the snow had begun to melt he employed his best warriors to aid him in honing his combative skills. They were all accomplished fighters, but it helped to rehearse the moves and sharpen their skills.

  Sasha's pack was one of the few that had changed little, and learning to fight wasn't just a standard precaution for the future, it was a trade skill that they were renowned for. They fought in their pelts as they called it, in the shape of wolves. Even though it was just training, it was taken seriously.

  He studied the group, watching as his Beta's continued to practice. To an onlooker it would have looked like serious combat, with all the growling, biting, and scratching, but this was tame compared to what they were capable of. They were deadly fighters, and if an adversary refused to submit, death was what they got.