Ursa Unearthed (Scourge Survivor Series Book 2)

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Ursa Unearthed (Scourge Survivor Series Book 2) Page 16

by JL Madore


  I nodded. "I hope everything works out with your student, Jade."

  Galan's appraising gaze for his wife made me blush. "I am certain once she returns all will be well. Aust, will you bring Naith home when you come? He is exploring."

  When they vanished, Aust held out his hand and gave me a mischievous grin. "Are you ready for another incredible adventure, Mika?"

  "Sure. Where are we going?"

  "The question is not where we are going, but how shall we get there?"

  Aust turned and jogged down the forest path toward an open clearing. When he stopped, he tilted his head to the forest beyond. An angelic smile lit his face. "Ready yourself, neelan. You shall love this."

  "Love wha—" I jolted to a stop as a massive black jaguar walked out of the trees.

  Stumbling backwards I stepped on Aust's foot before he caught me and held me in place. "All is well," he whispered. I wondered if his words were meant to soothe me or the pony-sized jungle cat plodding toward us. Unbelievable. Its shoulders rose and fell in a lazy wave of strength as it plodded forward. The afternoon sun spackling the forest floor caught the patches of rosettes hidden within its ebony coat—wow, a melanistic jaguar.

  A reeeally big melanistic jaguar.

  Aust chuckled. "You are going to ride Naith home while I run alongside the two of you."

  I stared almost eye-level into the golden gaze of the majestic cat. His lips curled up and he flashed me long, white canines. Shit. Dominance. I dropped my gaze. He chuffed. The warm moisture of his breath on my face had me almost wetting my pants. "And how will Naith feel about me riding him?"

  Aust lifted my palm for Jade's cat to sniff. When we were acquainted, he walked me to Naith's side and slid my foot deep into the stirrup. With a grace I didn't possess, Aust vaulted me up and into the custom saddle which straddled the cat's broad back. "Naith loves the idea. He enjoys nothing more than an afternoon excursion."

  I shuddered. "And has Naith ever been known to return without his rider? Maybe with his belly a hundred and twenty pounds heavier?"

  Aust scowled, then chuckled at my expression. "Naith is a perfect gentlemale, a veritable kitten. Jade had your grandfather ride him earlier. Now stop your protestations and sit deep in your saddle so I can ensure it is tethered properly for you."

  I must have completely lost touch with reality because a few minutes later I was swaying like a sailor on the deck of a ship, but I wasn't on the rolling sea, I rode the back of a giant jungle cat. As I got my sea legs, Aust jogged beside us, watching me with a dazzling smile. Faolan bounded ahead then returned in wide arcs obviously implying that I was holding things up.

  "Are you well, Mika? You look as though you might swoon."

  I didn't miss the male amusement in his voice. "Give me a chance to settle and then I'll race through the trees. You better get ready to watch the tail end of this beast ‘cause I'm going to leave you in my dust."

  He laughed, his voice deep and smooth as velvet. "I have no doubt."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  My feet barely touched the marble inlay as I crossed through the foyer. Could this world even be real? I pulled the elastic from my ponytail and shook my hair free as I floated down the carpeted stairs toward where Nash told me I'd find the training center.

  I stopped short at the first doorway and peered into the large rectangular room. Something as normal as the polished floor of a gymnasium with black padded mats stacked in the corner seemed wildly out of place in the context of my day. Rows of florescent lights hung above, caged to prevent breakage from wayward balls. The normality of it seemed bizarre.

  I continued down the simple beige corridor and followed the faint tink, tink, tink of weights clinking together in rhythmic reps.

  The training center in Jade's basement crossed the wires of normal and mystical: cycles, steppers, elliptical and tread mills over against one wall, free weights and weight machines against the other and then a medieval wall of weapons mounted and hanging on the long wall at the back—a hundred or more—blades, spiked chains, battleaxes, flails, maces, daggers, swords, slings and several variations of whips I didn't recognize, but wanted nowhere near my backside.

  Abrupt silence brought my attention back to the room.

  Cowboy lowered the wall of weights he was pressing and swung his long, muscled legs over the bench. After patting his face with his t-shirt, he tossed it into a laundry bin and stalked over. With his short brown hair slicked back and his brow drawn tight, he looked like someone who could kill as easily as he could light a cigarette.

  "Something wrong, Mika?"

  I eyed the weapons of mass dismemberment and swallowed. "I, uh . . . is Bruin here?"

  He narrowed his gaze and drew a deep breath. "Nervous? Now what would a head-strong, opinionated woman like you have to be nervous about?"

  Working with wildlife taught me many important lessons. Dominant creatures consider retreat a sign of weakness . . . and Cowboy was definitely a dominant creature. "Cowboy, why don't you call me Ursa like the other Weres?"

  He smiled wide enough to let the tips of his fangs show. "You deny the Alpha, you deny my kind. Should I bow and call you Ursa for that? What do you think the Were Primes would do if they knew their Ursa is a Mundie who wants nothing to do with us? How long do you think you'd survive?"

  The thuds of a Mack truck hitting concrete erupted from the corner. Nope. Just Savage versus a boxing bag. Another crack and I felt sorry for the bag. Wearing only a wide leather dog collar and workout shorts, I got the full effect of the artwork tattooed over his body. I tried not to stare, but the image of a dragon clawing and burning the man in its grips sent a chill up my spine. Drawn by my observation, the skin-head warrior turned a violent glare.

  Cowboy snapped his fingers close to my face and I jumped. He leaned close. "Don't fuck with Bruin, Mika. He's not just my Alpha. He's my friend."

  After a moment, the slamming of iron fists into the punching bag resumed.

  Cowboy tipped the brim of an imaginary hat and stepped back. "Bruin's in there."

  Right. I crossed the springy white floor and headed through the doorway on the side wall.

  Suspended by his ankles on an inversion table, Bruin hung upside down as he crunched and released. The hard edges and smooth planes of his body glowed with a sheen of sweat, his cheeks coloured with a rosy-golden flush.

  Holy hell. Gone was my pique at being threatened by Bruin's friends. One glance at the man glistening before me and every cell ripened with need.

  "Hey baby," he said, "one sec, I'm just finishing off my core." With a wink, Bruin continued and I took the opportunity to regain control of my hormones. I was more than my sex drive. More than Fates forcing me to accept a destiny I didn't choose. Deep breaths.

  The exercise room had no windows but plenty of mirrored walls and black mats. On a hooked rail by the door, skipping ropes and tension bands hung waiting to be used. My hand burned and an erotic inferno raged inside me.

  Closing the door, I latched the lock and buttressed a plastic chair beneath the knob. If anyone came in, they were in for an eyeful. Cowboy and Savage probably wouldn't come-a-knockin and I doubted, despite their hostility, they'd let anyone else bother us either.

  Stalking toward Bruin, another surge of liquid heat exploded through me. It was either a physical side-effect of the Bonding, an after-effect of riding a giant jaguar through the forest, or some other nympho-effect that had me in its clutches.

  It didn't matter. That glistening male was mine.

  Bruin uncoiled from a crunch and sank toward the floor. "Did you and Aust have—"

  I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, my clothes were an offense to my skin. My jeans slid down my hips and I stepped clear of the cotton pile gathering by my feet. My underwear went next.

  Bruin's eyes widened. His heated gaze flicked to the barricaded door then back to me. "Uh, what's doing, Mika?"

  "I just rode a gigantic jungle cat through the for
est and I gotta tell you—I'm jazzed. I don't know if it's the bonding or what, but I really need to burn off some energy."

  Bruin's husky growl filled the room and vibrated in all the right places. He reached up to unhook his ankles and I caught his hand.

  "Not so fast, big guy." I tilted the table horizontal and set the locks. Bruin tracked me as I crossed the room, grabbed two skipping ropes from the pegs and folded them in half. "You're at my mercy, Alpha. Ready for a real workout?"

  Bruin growled again. "Let the marathon begin."

  Once Bruin's hands were secured above his head and bound to the frame of the table, I tugged down his nylon shorts and boxers. Mine. I shook my head. "This isn't natural. I've never been a prude or anything, but these bonding hormones make me downright aggressive. I'm one whip and corset away from being a Dominatrix."

  Bruin's head fell back as his whole body stiffened against his restraints. "That's one image I'll never get out of my head."

  The picture flashing in my mind's eye was hot as hell, me all leathered up, him naked and at my mercy, both of us writhing and insatiable with need. I moaned as another warm rush hit me between my thighs.

  Bruin's nostrils flared. "So sweet. Gods, what are you thinking about, baby?"

  I scanned all that bronze skin, running my nails from his shoulders, down the smooth planes of his pecs, over the tightly cut ridges of his abs to the outside of his hips. I avoided his erection and continued down the thick trunks of his thighs, around to his chiseled calves, I jumped past his clothes trapped around his ankles and finished my sensory experiment at his feet.

  Damn. Even his feet were beautiful.

  A rich, musky scent rose from his skin. "I love it when you look at me like that."

  I massaged the flesh of his insoles, kneading at the tender parts of his arches before launching a fingers-do-the-walking return trek back up his body. "Oh? And how's that?"

  "Like you're about to savagely devour me."

  "And if that's what I plan to do . . . are you okay with that? No strings? No promises?"

  Bruin's body twitched, his muscles rock solid under my touch. "Have at it."

  I stared at his offering and decided, in the spirit of being thorough, I'd start at the top and work my way down. Bruin's shaggy brown hair was softer than it looked. Like his pelt, it was a little wiry on the surface, but silky soft as you ran your fingers through it.

  His eyes rolled closed as I stepped to the top of the table and my fingers scrubbed his scalp. I pressed my lips to his and kissed him in slow sweeping strokes, tasting, teasing. With each invasion of my tongue I sank further inside him.

  With careful attention, I kissed his throat, across his collarbone and blew a gentle breath over his nipples. They stood tight at the tips and I had to beat back the growl rumbling in my chest. Returning the favor on a little circle-and-suckle trick he'd used on me was soooo rewarding. And when his head kicked back and he arched off the table I nearly lost it.

  He bit his bottom lip, his eyes wild, his breathing loud. But not as loud as the squeal and squeak of the metal frame of the inversion table under stress. He gripped the bars above his head and tensed.

  Nipping my way further down the ridges of his body, I raked my fingers through the golden-brown hair of his navel and tested my teeth on the rise of his hip. "This time is for you."

  "Mika, you don't have to—"

  I took him into my mouth.

  He blew out a lungful of air, his whole body racked in spasm. "Never mind. Yes, yes you do."

  Completely spent, I sprawled across Bruin's bed and watched as he leaned over the bathroom sink. He'd Flashed us upstairs after my bondage experiment in the training room and we'd spent hours lounging naked, watching sappy movies and talking cars, journalism and books. He liked biographies, of all things. The only biography I'd ever read was Jane Goodall's Africa in My Blood. He said he liked to understand how people are shaped by what happens to them through the course of their lives. I saw his point.

  With his perfect profile highlighted by the overhead incandescence of his bathroom, Bruin drew an old-fashioned straight blade up the skin of his neck. As he removed each white strip of shaving cream, his gaze in the mirror shifted to me. He smiled, swished his blade, tapped it on the edge and took another scrape.

  After he finished with the swish, tap and scrape, he removed the towel wrapped around his hips, blotted his face dry and netted the thing into the hamper with a weighty thunk. Whistling a quiet tune to himself, he pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a slogan T-shirt.

  I rolled onto my stomach to read it. It's tourist season. Why can't we shoot them?

  As the mattress dipped under his weight, Bruin grabbed the remote and clicked off Patrick Swayze just as he was pulling Baby out of the corner. "Mika, my love, get your perfect little ass in that shower. The grill is calling and a hungry bear is a cranky bear. If I don't eat something, I might eat somebody."

  I flopped back down, so sated I didn't plan on moving. Ever. When he leaned closer, I tightened my grip on the quilt. "I think you broke me."

  Bruin chuckled, his expression free of its usual tension. "You broke you. I was bound and tied remember?"

  I blushed and licked my lips. "Not sure where that came from. I'm a little embarrassed."

  He laid his palms flat on the mattress beside my shoulders and leaned close, the corners of his mouth turned up in a cocky smirk. "You can go grizzly on me any time but right now I need sustenance. Nourish me woman."

  He was so damned lucky he was laughing.

  I yelped as he nipped my shoulder. "Can't we eat in? We could watch Love and Other Drugs. A little Jake Gyllenhaal for me, a little Anne Hathaway for you. Win-win."

  Bruin scowled. "We're going to the back courtyard to have dinner. Whoever's not on patrol is meeting up for a meal. I promise it'll be fun. Your grandfather will be there and Aust should be almost done watching the cubs. I'm sure he'll be along shortly. You seem to be getting along well with him."

  "Yes. He's a wonderful friend, but . . ." I pulled the quilt over my head, "your warrior friends hate me. I'm the freaky side show at the circus. The Mundie your Fates saddled you with. The one daring to deny the Alpha. All I need is a beard and an extra three hundred pounds and they'd cage me and sell tickets."

  "Not true, and ew." Bruin tugged the quilt down, his nose crinkled.

  Orville scratched his back paws on the mat at the glass doors to the balcony. Bruin strode over and as the August breeze carried the scent of buttered popcorn into the room, my binturong waddled outside, climbed the railing and reached for a low hanging branch. His wiry grey coat disappeared into the foliage as the Heartbeat Drum Song rang on my phone.

  "My cell's working?" I bounded off his bed and through the connecting door to my suite.

  "Reign approved it this afternoon—with provisions. You can't tell anyone where you are." Bruin followed me in and yanked closed the drapes in my suite as I retrieved my phone.

  Right. Still naked.

  "Ms. Silverbrook, this is Assistant Crown Attorney Brantfield's secretary. He asked me to confirm with you regarding your deposition interview for the Nimithic Group trial? He wanted to ensure that you were still available, since you missed your appointment today and haven't responded to our emails."

  I jogged over to the desk, pulled my laptop out of my backpack and booted it up. As my screen initialized, I noticed the date. Damn this world is messing with my sense of time. "I am so sorry. It's been a hectic week. When would you like to reschedule?"

  "We have an afternoon opening tomorrow at 2 pm if you are available."

  Bruin leaned against the jamb, arms crossed and shook his head.

  Could he hear my conversation from across the room?

  "That will be fine. And please extend my apologies to ACA Brantfield." I closed my phone, stroked the keyboard and pulled up my files to scan my notes.

  Bruin prowled closer. "Just so we're clear, the answer was no."

  I bit back my fir
st impulse and smiled. "What was the question?"

  "You're not making that deposition tomorrow."

  "Eavesdrop much?"

  He tapped his ear. "Heightened hearing. And the answer is still no."

  I grabbed clothes from the dresser and slammed the drawers harder than I meant to. "I don't remember asking permission. Oh wait, that's because I didn't."

  He met my smirk with his own. "You're not going to Vancouver with Scourge, mercenary bikers, and Jackals barking at your door. It's too dangerous. Call back and cancel."

  I lifted my chin and headed to the bathroom. "Mmm, your dominant barbarian impression gets me seriously hot. Order me around again . . . slower."

  He Flashed in front of me, his eyes burning gold. "You got the dominant part right. I am your Alpha—you will listen to me."

  Something primal in Bruin's gaze quickened my pulse. His imperious command resonated in my skull and multiplied. His authority rippled through my nervous system and demanded I obey. It pressured every cell in my body to comply. It overrode my will.

  He glared down at me and I fought to hold my ground.

  He loomed closer.

  My knees buckled and my head bowed.

  Tears blurred my vision as I sucked in a violent breath and struggled to my feet. With my clothes clutched to my chest, I shoved past him and stormed into the bathroom. "You bastard. Get the hell away from me."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Forty-five minutes later, I stood alone amongst strangers, leaning against the railing of the back deck. The late summer air hung heavy with the day's heat and the rich succulence of summer blooms. As I watched the sun sink behind two violet mountain peaks I reached out and absorbed nature's strength from my surroundings. Haven Mountain was magical and, having grown up as a Vancouver native, that was high praise.

  If only a perfect moment could be frozen and its sense of serenity preserved.

  Inevitably, though, the chaos of life forces its way back and shatters the fragile balance.

 

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