Ursa Unearthed (Scourge Survivor Series Book 2)

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Ursa Unearthed (Scourge Survivor Series Book 2) Page 20

by JL Madore


  "And does he deliver?"

  "For a price. The Scourge are strong and, because they're no longer truly alive, they don't die. But he absorbs their souls. He takes their energy and the empty shells he leaves behind just become more vicious and vile."

  "And they killed your people."

  Bruin nodded. "Gemma and I were the second litter to my family. My sisters, Risa and Emma, were three years older. They were the sweetest girls ever to grace this realm. They were spirited and fun and never spoke an unkind word."

  He swiped his fingers under his eyes and cleared his throat. "Abaddon is a monster, Mika, and the Scourge are just as bad. They'll hurt you because you belong with me. They'll hurt you because you are a female and they can. They'll violate and degrade you, just for the thrill."

  I swallowed. "I'll be more careful. I promise. And I'll try to listen to you."

  He smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. "I believe you mean that, but please understand . . . I can't let you risk your safety."

  The hairs on my arms stood on end. Can't let me? I took in the isolation of the cave again. He wouldn't. "Bruin, don't even think about leaving me here. I will never forgive you."

  He nodded, the backs of his fingers brushing my cheek. "Maybe not, but at least you'll be alive to hate me. I'm sorry, Mika. I really am trying to do what's best for you."

  "And you think abandoning me in a cave is what's best for me?"

  He stepped closer to the ledge and waved his hand toward the table. A platter of food and drinks appeared. "I'll be back as soon as I can. If I'm right, the Scourge will know about your appointment and will have people in place to secure you. They won't know the difference between your scent and mine until it's too late. I'll use that to draw them out."

  "Take me with you. If I draw them out, you'll have a better chance of getting them."

  Bruin's golden glare flashed. "You're not bait, Mika."

  "You'll protect me." And he would. Of all the things I was sure of, that was one. Bruin would protect me to his last breath. "If you're worried, get me a bodyguard. Keep me close, but don't take away my choice."

  He winced. I saw his resolve falter, but only for a moment. "Julian came to me late last night and confirmed it. The man who threatened you in the tavern yesterday was Abaddon. The spawn of evil himself. Nobody on the Talon council can believe he outed himself. He's been so secretive, so intent on keeping his identity hidden."

  "He would still be a mystery if I'd fallen under his spell. I helped. Now you know what he looks like."

  "But why did he do it? After decades sneaking around like a rat, why take a stand and threaten you?"

  "I don't know, but I'm a journalist. Let me help dig up the truth."

  "The truth? The truth is, I've lost half a dozen lions, snow leopards, two packs of wolves, a den of hyena and a mated pair of Siberian tigers. They all held dominant positions in the Were community, all skilled and able to defend themselves, yet all are missing and presumed dead."

  I cupped his rakish jaw and made him look at me. "That's horrible, I agree, but I've investigated the disappearance of wildlife for years in my world. This can't be that different. As long as I'm a part of this world, use my skills. I can be an asset, Bruin."

  "You are an asset. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I won't put you in the middle of a slaughter. As King, I may be a failure, but as your mate, I won't be."

  "So, your plan is to lock me away when things get dangerous? I won't live like that."

  "You don't have to." He paused and watched two hawks drift effortlessly beyond the ledge. They were graceful, floating mid-air on the thermals rising up from the valley.

  "The Bonding Brand lasts one full moon cycle. In a couple of weeks, since you refuse to be my mate, you'll stop giving off my scent and can return to your life. I won't keep you here if you don't want me."

  I rubbed my chest. It felt like my Humvee was parked on my sternum. "Bruin, I adore you. I just don't belong here. I want my life."

  His jaw clenched. "Then wait it out. Keep yourself alive until it's over and you return to the other realm. You'd be smart to move and maybe write under a pseudonym, but the beauty of the Internet means you can submit stories from anywhere, right?"

  Right. My head was spinning. "Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

  He stared out over the forested valley. "At first I didn't know. No one ever walked away from bonding. But then I spoke to Castian about your choices. I couldn't give you the out before you considered what it could be like between us. I guess . . . I hoped you might choose to stay . . . that somehow you'd fall for me."

  He turned and lowered his face to within inches from mine. "Whatever happens, Mika, know this—I fell for you. I was a goner from that first night in the bar."

  Bruin placed a kiss on my forehead and then disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I paced the candle lit cave. "Bruin, get back here! When I get out of here I'm going to. . ." I couldn't think of anything bad enough. "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but it's going to be bad. You hear me? Bad. And it will involve your male parts somehow."

  I envisioned all the ways to make a bear's life hell. That cheered me up a fair bit. Storming around the interior of the cave, I half expected him to flash back and say he was an idiot. Which he was. When that didn't happen, I tried to understand how I'd ended up here.

  Part of me seized the idea of the out, knowing that after the full moon, I could go home and forget everything about Bruin and his world. Part of me felt paralyzed with the thought.

  I stared at the waterfall on the far side of the valley. A silver sliver ran from the blue sky to the green of the forest below—beautiful, yes—but really no different from exotic locations in my world. Was this world really so alien? There were good guys and bad. There were families who loved each other and suffered when those they loved were hurt. Did loving my life and my world exclude the things I loved about this one?

  Over the next hour, as the sun's warmth inched into the recesses of my prison, I thought about what I chose to go back to in Vancouver. I could come and go without anyone censoring my actions or communications. I could meet up with my girls and not worry about them getting hurt because they were standing too close to me.

  Crossing the uneven stone floor, I scanned the spread of food on the table. Bagels with strawberry cream cheese. He remembered. Damn you, Bruin. Even given my recent hearty appetite, I wouldn't make a dent. "He likes me well fed. I'll give him that."

  I thought about boycotting the whole eating thing just to piss him off. My stomach had other plans. After picking up a bagel and slathering on some spread, I poured a glass of juice. When I set down the jug, it clinked against the inkwell and almost knocked over the quill. I set it right again and rubbed my fingers together. Sepia stained the pad of my fingers. It didn't drip, but it wasn't dry either. Huh.

  I looked around. "Why have ink when there's nothing to write on?"

  My journalistic spidey-senses tingled to life. I bit off a bite of bagel and I opened the doors of the big-ole cupboard. Nothing. Okay, Bruin wasn't the kind of guy to leave things out in the open. After all, he hid chick-flicks within the covers of other movies. I scanned the Spartan furnishings and lifted the rugs. Still nothing. The walls were stone. Where could he stash things?

  "Come on, big guy, give it up. I'm like a dog on a bone when I'm curious."

  I rethought my search parameters while walking back for my glass of juice. Hello.

  A faint arcing path marked the dust on the cave floor. I bent down and lost it, but when I shifted to look from a different angle, I followed the arc back to the wall. Inspired, I grabbed the end of the wooden cupboard, hefted and swung the cupboard away from the wall.

  There, right along the floor, a hidey-hole had been chiseled out of the stone. I knelt down and found a dozen leather-bound journals stuffed inside. I reached for one, but hesitated. "If you don't come back, Bruin. I'm going to snoop in your books. Don't make
me violate your privacy."

  Nothing. Damn him. Damn him for leaving me here. Damn him for thinking he could make me stay . . . for being a bossy, insufferable, dominate—Bear. I grabbed the top journal.

  Fine, if that's the way you want to play this.

  With the rest of my bagel on the table next to my juice, I pulled the chair over. After brushing the crumbs and stone dust off my fingers, I picked up the top leather-bound book, settled in and flipped it open to the first page. I had to smile. The penmanship and diction in his journal weren't at all what I expected. The man had a truly elegant side . . . his royal side, I'd guess. Like if you bit through his hard candy shell you'd get to the gooey caramel center I'd glimpsed a few times.

  His entries seemed almost poetic, written in formal cursive strokes with curled tails and fancy, flourishing script. I ran a finger over the page then gazed at the old-fashioned quill and ink set out on the table. Would he have been schooled in this calligraphy-style because he was a prince or because this realm held onto the old ways? I flipped through the thick almond parchment, to the last entry. Yesterday.

  My heart aches for Jade. Never have I seen her so out of her own control and character. Castian promises she will recover as long as the Highbornes keep her fever from climbing. Little comfort. Until then, my Blaze is someone she would never want to be. I pray the Yearning ends quickly.

  Mika and Aust. In my mind I know they seek each other solely as companions of common interest, but the beast that lives within me, he writhes and claws at the stench of another man's scent on her skin. I am glad she found some measure of comfort here, truly, though it strikes a piercing blow that it was not with me.

  Does she comprehend what she means to me…for me? The prospect of having her…as a woman and as a mate, consumes me. Would she ever share her bed with me as my true self? Would she be safe? Animal lust burns in my blood. My claws ache to extend past their sheaths and my cock throbs day and night. I fight to silence my instincts more each day, but fear I may rut her if I let my guard down. For now, I must remain in the cave to sleep.

  Come morning, I shall go to her, try to make her understand the dangers. Have I earned enough of her respect to keep her from harm? I laugh even as I write the words. She has far too much will and spirit to shy away from danger. If only she understood, what her loss would do to me.

  The dreams are back. I can't shut them out. The ache and agony as debilitating as when I was a cub and lost everything.

  I reread the entry, pulling to draw breath. "Oh Bruin. What happened? What are you carrying around inside you?"

  I put that journal back into the wall and grabbed the one from the bottom. It looked the oldest. The leather binding wore through in places and the tattered parchment was yellowed with age. I opened the cover and read the first entry.

  What am I to write on blank pages? Maximus says to use this journal as a healing tool. How will a book and well of ink mend what's broken? Will it chase the visions of father staked and skinned from my nightmares? Will it silence Gemma's cries, begging the monsters to stop? No. Nothing will. Her screams will echo in my shattered mind forever.

  Galan said Bruin was only thirteen when his parents were killed. I skimmed the pages, the strokes and curls of the ink becoming a blur until an entry caught my attention.

  Happy Birthday to us.

  I had the dream again Gem. They yanked me back by my hair and forced me to watch as they held you down. I tasted the salt of my tears and heard the weakness in my pleas for mercy. I am sorry. I should have done more. With father slain it was my duty to protect you. I will kill them—for you. If it takes a lifetime. I swear it. I ache for you, my other half, blood of my blood.

  Never will I feel whole without you.

  I flipped toward the back. By my estimation months had passed and still the pain in Bruin's words ravaged my heart. Over and over he spoke of his inability to honor his father, to protect his mother and his sisters, to exact the type of justice he believed his family deserved.

  Risa: I found myself thinking of you this morning. After waking from a troubled night, Jade and Lexi sat and rubbed my ears for what must have been hours. Finally, after weeks of exhaustion while sleep slipped through the foggy recesses of my mind, I found rest. It took me back to how you used to run your fingers through my coat when I was sad or afraid. Father would have been so angry with my weakness, but you insisted that even the mightiest prince needed a safe place. Risa, you were that for me.

  My breath hitched as I closed the journal and replaced it at the bottom of the pile. So much despair. I slid the cupboard back into place and laid on the pallet in the center of the floor. Bruin's scent clung to the fabric and I breathed deep. Every nuance of him combined to make that smell, the outdoors, his cologne, his clean sweat, the soap he used.

  Pulling a blanket over my lap, I closed my eyes.

  "Neither of us had the childhood we deserved." Even as I said the words I knew there was a huge difference between a walk-away-father leaving a vodka-addled-mother and having your parents and three sisters slaughtered and possibly raped before your eyes.

  Africa filled my mind—Luke and Amy flayed, their corpses set out for the wild animals to consume come nightfall. Their cubs would never be able to feel the love of their parents. Tears warmed my cheeks and clung to my chin. "What a harsh and brutal world. Everything I despise. Everything I fight against in my world is happening to your people."

  I swiped my face dry and scanned the empty little cave. Bruin wanted so much—from me, for me—more than it was fair to expect. Yet, the more I learned about him, the more I understood his need. Without Grandfather even being there, I knew what he would say. "If you cannot imagine your life with Bruin, perhaps imagine your life without him. Maybe that will bring you answers."

  I brushed my damp cheek as the breeze pulled back and I was left with my thoughts. A life without Bruin would be . . . tranquil—nobody growling at me to fall in line, my own—I could make my own decisions again, no one bossing me around or leaving me in caves. The thought of him gone almost stole my breath. I wasn't lonely before him, was I? I stroked the rich brown ink on my palm, tracing the scrollwork of my Bonding Brand.

  I'd definitely miss the sexual connection. There had never been, nor would there be, another lover for me like Bruin. He said Were-couples share a closeness that goes beyond what humans can experience. Apparently, it got stronger once the bonding was accepted and stronger again with each litter or cub born.

  The blackened brand I'd noticed on Hugh's hand flashed into my mind. After the death of his mate, he was left to raise six boys on his own. Bruin said he would never love another woman. Weres only got one chance to love and that made their love deeper than any I had ever seen.

  Was it better that Luke and Amy died together? Imagine one partner killed, leaving the other behind, knowing the Scourge had skinned their mate and taken his or her pelt.

  What would they possibly want with the pelts? Trophies? Sick. Some twisted satisfaction of killing a Were? Disgusting. I'd become accustomed to the answer being greed. Dealing in black market exotics was big business. Two lion pelts could bring in close to ten thousand dollars. Wolf pelts, twenty-five hundred each.

  Hell, the haul of pelts and exotic animal organs I exposed in the warehouse of the Nimithic Group was valued at almost one-point-five million. The pharmaceuticals they were developing in their lab using the organs and by-products, another quarter mil . . . .

  Oh. My. God. I sat bolt upright. It's all connected.

  Why hadn't I seen it? What an idiot. My mind snapped with the bombardment of connections I'd been too blind to see until that moment. Oh God, Bruin's going to Vancouver. He's going to get himself killed and he doesn't even realize why?

  I screamed to the heavens. Please, let someone hear me and come. I paced, waiting, knowing it was futile. No one would answer my call. Nobody knows about this cave.

  Glaring toward the edge, I remembered how he found it and swallowed. There
was still one way out. If I dared. I scanned the cave again and thought about Bruin heading off to Vancouver without me. Risking certain death was better than standing there doing nothing. At least my fate was once again in my own hands. And if I fell . . . well, I wouldn't have to worry about what to do with my destiny, would I?

  I swallowed the bile burning up my throat, grabbed hold of a jut in the rock and swung my foot off the stony ledge.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  "What the hell was I thinking?" The pounding of my pulse drummed in my ears, I pinched my eyes closed and panted for air. Fainting would be bad. Horribly, irreversibly bad. The soft leather toes of my flats wedged into footholds as my fingertips curled over juts of rocky stone. My palms cried out as my grip forced shards of jagged rock into my skin.

  It would be far safer to manoeuver back onto the ledge than shimmy my way across the remaining rock face to the forest beyond. But Bruin, a good man despite being annoying as hell, was about to launch into an offensive and he didn't have all the facts.

  "Earth Spirits, I need your help." As the enchanted breeze lifted my hair, my chest eased a little knowing I wasn't alone. "Help me find the footing and holds to make my way to safety."

  Cracking my eyes open, I focused on the grey-brown stone striations in front of me. Nature is part of me. It offers me strength. It will keep me safe.

  I'd watched guys on adventure weekends climb rock-walls a hundred times. This was no different. Except the lack of a life-saving harness. Annnd the five-hundred-foot plummet to become a puddle of broken goo for a turkey vulture buffet.

  Using only touch and my inner sense, I inched across the face of the mountainside making excruciatingly slow progress. "Keep talking to me spirits. Guide me." I swallowed hard, my face pressed so tight against the sun-warmed surface it scuffed my cheek. About half way across, my legs began to tremble and my stomach lurched. Praying with all I had, I willed my body to obey me for once in my life.

 

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