Fated Mates: The Alpha Shifter Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle) (Insatiable Reads)

by Hunter, Adriana

  His hips rocked forward. My hands sauntered up to his ass, discovering his cheeks were clenched harder than ever, readying to expel the explosion building beneath his length.

  “Shit! Gods, Lyla...your tongue...make me fucking come. Just don't stop, no matter how much I grind and twist.”

  I wouldn't dream of it.

  He opened his mouth like he wanted to speak again, but no words came out. My lips ringed his cock, going down deep, down to the base beginning to stiffen and balloon.

  Come shot up a second later, giving me less than a second to react.

  His size grew in my mouth, pumping his hot, thick sap along my tongue, a mouthful in every savage jerk. Bestial thunder rumbled from his mouth, dredged up from the current tearing through him.

  Music to my ears. So was the tempo I somehow managed to keep up, matching his primal rhythm to mine.

  I gulped his come, drawing his essence deep inside me, though I secretly wished it were flowing somewhere else.

  You have to fight that urge. The last thing you need is a baby on the run.

  Still, just having him buried deep inside my mouth was privilege enough.

  The great flood became a soft trickle, and then slowed to nothing. He softened, pulled out. I swallowed the last of his seed, engraving his spicy, masculine taste on my memory forever.

  His strong fingers went beneath my chin. He cradled it, tilting my face up to look at him.

  “That was perfect, Lyla. And from a woman like you, I'd expect nothing less than perfection.”

  I stood up. We embraced for a long time, stroking and kissing, taking the world's longest shower.

  Just now, the world's dangers might as well have been on the moon.

  We had the whole world to ourselves in this lodge, a world made for nobody but him and I.

  “Sir? You ready for a chat?” Nick stood next to me.

  “I told you once, young man. Call me Tuts. And yes, I am.” The old Indian man smiled behind the counter.

  It was late, about an hour after dinnertime. Not that it mattered much because there was exactly one other couple staying at the lodge who we'd seen.

  Tuts walked into the backroom and spoke to the young woman there in a language I couldn't understand.

  “You sure about this?” I asked, looking up at my man.

  “Completely. I have to find out what he knows. He agreed to talk to us.”

  “Us?”

  “I told him about your interest in local history. I want you there, Lyla. If anyone deserves to be at my side, it's you. Bears never forget anyone who shares their sorrows.”

  He took my hand. His fingers were warm and tight, but his pulse was steady and peaceful.

  “It's just...this thing.” I shifted my free arm, shuffling the heavy round artifact I held there. “How could he possibly know anything about it? You sure we're showing this to the right person?”

  Nick's face tightened. Neither of us liked it when I doubted him.

  “I never told him what we had. Hell, neither of us really know what it is either, except that it must be valuable. I doubt he'll have much to add, but it won't hurt to try. It's not like I'm gonna let some old man overpower me and steal that thing again.”

  Well, there was no arguing with that. Tuts returned to the desk a second later, the young woman around my age in tow.

  “My granddaughter will take over. Let's go. Right down the hall on this floor, second room on the right.”

  He walked fast and steady for someone who had to be at least eighty years old. We followed.

  The old man's private room looked like a museum. We sat around a glass table, flanked on all sides by animal bones, dark stones, dream catchers, and thick quilts on the walls glowing with all the vibrant hues of the American West.

  “Let's get down to business.” Nick's voice was dark and curious. “I want to know who the hell you are, and how you seem to know what's going on with us.”

  Tuts laughed. At last, he showed a small sign of his age – what few teeth he had were whittled down to tiny stumps.

  “I'd know a bear from a mile away.” Tuts paused, giving us plenty of time to stare with dumb interest. “You've come to escape something terrible. I am only trying to help. You too, young lady.”

  His deep, dark brown eyes fell on me. I shifted uncomfortably across the table, managing a weak nod.

  “I saw the pictures,” Nick said. “You must be over a hundred years old. Or else you look exactly like the last guy who ran this place. Which is it?”

  “Right the first time. It was the old Montana Clan who taught me the secrets to long life.” He reached for a thermos on the edge of the table and poured himself a dark green tea, indulging a long sip.

  “Didn't know there was a Montana Clan. We haven't had any contact for generations.” Nick leaned forward, suddenly intent on the conversation.

  “Their traders came in my father's time. I got to know several men quite well. They offered me longevity, old bear magic that can sustain a man's life, just like a bear's.”

  “Impossible!” I piped up, shaking my head. “Shifters are genetically different from people. Their genes cause them to age more slowly. They can't pass that along to a human being.”

  Somehow, my words sounded uncertain. Flat.

  “Whatever you believe, young lady. Your science has been wrong many times.” Tuts flashed me that empty smile, clearly amused at my confusion.

  “Doesn't matter. We didn't come here to talk about cheating death. What can you tell us about this?.” Nick looked at me and gestured.

  I lifted the sphere to the table and slowly unwrapped it. Even in his dark apartment, flecks of jade green paint showed brighter than others, almost like it were coated in emerald or some other earthy material.

  Tuts leaned in and stared at it. He reached for the ball, touching his withered fingers to its cool surface, caressing it like it was one of his own grandchildren.

  “Well?” Nick flexed his hands on the table, obviously impatient.

  “A destiny stone. My, my, my!” Tuts inhaled sharply, holding his breath. “I have not seen one of these in ages, and only one long ago. Traveling bears from Canada brought theirs once, on their way south to retrieve a mate for their king.”

  “King?” Nick and I spoke the loaded word in a whisper simultaneously.

  “Yes. Your people have no leader?” Tuts came very close to looking surprised.

  “No, Klamath has its leaders, but no king. Never did. Our Elder Council's been running things as long as I've been alive.”

  Tuts' wrinkles softened. His face relaxed, deep and contemplative.

  “Wanna tell us what that's got to do with that thing on the table?” I pointed. Nick's impatience was wearing off on me.

  “These stones were forged many ages ago, when all bears were in the same clan. Long before man ever came to this continent – even my people. Skinwalkers lived here first with tall glaciers and ferocious mammoths, heaved up by nature, the true beings the spirits mean to rule this wild land.”

  We listened silently. Legend or not, at least his beliefs were...interesting.

  “Destiny stones were built by master craftsmen and handed off to each group of settlers. Every tribe had its Alpha, its king, a supreme bear to guide his people. Clan kings are second only to the King of Kings who ruled the original tribe. Of course, you know there has been no King of Kings for many eons...”

  Nick shook his head. I eyed the shocked mask on his face, more than a little amused.

  He doesn't know his own history. Then again, what do I know? This is a total retelling of everything I thought I knew about the Klamath Bear Clan, or whatever came before them.

  Government records and folksy old diaries weren't exactly forthcoming and thorough about bear history.

  “Guess we know why it's so valuable now,” Nick said to me.

  “Yes, very valuable indeed, young man.” Tuts slurped more tea. “In its rightful hands, this stone is a symbol of a king's aut
hority over his clan. To challenge an Alpha bloodline with this stone, this proof, is to challenge the gods.”

  Ugh. Now I really regret trying to steal and sell this thing.

  I really did. My heart throbbed when I looked at Nick. I watched him carefully wrap the stone up and drag it across the table to his lap.

  “You're not going to rat on us, are you? I swear my clan has no king. We found this, buried outside an old dig site. Klamath's Elders have been trying to get in touch with their history lately.”

  “Any skinwalker who calls himself an elder should already know the past,” Tuts said. “Your people have grown strange. Out of touch with themselves and their nature. I suggest you do some research so you can bring it to them.”

  “Just how the hell are we supposed to do that?” I folded my arms. “I've read everything available about the Klamath Bear Clan since I was a girl.”

  Tuts smiled, but this time stopped short of showing us his worn teeth. He got up, went to an old bookshelf in the corner, and came back clutching a gigantic book that looked like an old Bible.

  “Hold out your hands,” he told me. “You may have read much, but I doubt you have ever read this.”

  The book weighed a ton. I scuttled to get it on the table.

  Its cover was just as worn as the old yellowed pages sticking out between the hard shell. A Chronicle of the Ursus Arctos Skinwalkers and Their Traditions, the title read.

  I carefully opened the cover and thumbed to the front page. The same title, an author name I didn't recognize, and then the date below it.

  “1916,” I said, more than a little impressed. “This is one old book.”

  “And one of a kind,” Tuts added. “The Montana bears told me they only had two more copies when they gave it to me. Must've been almost thirty years ago. None of them have returned for many years.”

  I flipped to the table of contents. Nick looked over my shoulder, following my finger as I traced it down the page, searching for Oregon, Northern California, Klamath.

  “There! Holy shit. There's something in here about your clan after all.”

  Nick furrowed his brow. He looked at Tuts.

  “Can she borrow this?”

  “As long as it never leaves this lodge.” Tuts watched my hands shaking.

  I gently closed the book and held it tight to my chest. Against all the odds, we'd truly come to the right place.

  Maybe there was more to that whole destiny stone thing than just a name.

  “I'll return it safely just as soon as I can,” I told the old Indian. “Ready for a history lesson, Nick?”

  My lover smiled. “Didn't have much of that in school, and can't say I enjoyed it. But I'm willing to make an exception with the right instructor. Helps that it's a damned good cause too.”

  “Read it together,” Tuts said. “You, young lady, should take the lead. A man with no past is usually shocked at what he finds. For your friend here, this will be like finding his own father.”

  Nick's face darkened. Surely, Tuts couldn't have known about his personal life. Except that really hit home.

  I read it on his face, his posture, his expression. I stood, hoping I'd be able to lug the book upstairs without breaking my back.

  “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Nick. Let's find out what they've been keeping from you.”

  “Yeah,” he said, grabbing the artifact. “Thanks for your hospitality, Tuts.”

  The old Indian nodded. He stood near the table as we made our way to the door. I felt his eyes on my back until we closed the door, mysterious and heavy, the same as the monstrous volume in my hands.

  “Gods!” Nick paced to the window, peeled back the curtains, and stared out at into the encroaching darkness.

  I didn't blame him one bit.

  The big old book held an entire chapter about the Klamath Bear Clan, an offshoot of an older northern shifter branch who'd migrated down from British Columbia.

  “It's amazing, isn't it?” I whispered.

  “What?” He turned, showing me the fires blazing in his narrowed eyes. “The fact that our whole damn history has been buried and forged? Those assholes told us we'd been near Klamath forever.”

  “You couldn't have known...nobody could...”

  “And here I thought we were supposed to be concerned about humans coming in and taking our artifacts. The real thieves were right under our fucking noses.”

  Sadness spread through my heart. No, he was right to take a jab at humankind again, and indirectly at me for stealing their treasures.

  The Klamath Elders had already taken so much, only to have nosy, desperate humans like myself hitting them from the other side.

  I tried to push down the lump in my throat. Tried, and failed.

  “Why are you crying, Lyla?” He came over, pulling me into his arms.

  “I regret the way we met. I regret everything that came before too! I'm just like those assholes in the records here: settlers, prospectors, government goons. Just one more human female using shifters to her own ends.”

  “The pain goes both ways. You read it yourself.” He squeezed my shoulders, burying my face against his shield-like chest. “Your father's just one example. We killed plenty, and not always in self-defense.”

  “Yes, but it was your land, your property taken. No shifter armies ever occupied whole kingdoms or ransacked human cities.”

  “Who can say?” He shrugged. “I'm sure the history goes back a lot further than what's in this book. We're lucky to have anything at all. All I know is, in Klamath the betrayal came from our own fucking kind, and continues to this day.”

  I lifted my head, nodding. He was right about that. The history book proved it.

  The first pack of criminals had been Branson's own father, Theodore. It was during a difficult time for the Klamath Clan, just after the century flipped over.

  King Alexander couldn't feed his people. Grazing off the land wasn't easy anymore with fierce droughts and more humans moving in by the year. Their territory was shrinking, and the Klamath bears would've seen their numbers halved if it wasn't for trade deals with the local humans.

  Then the humans saw their chance, and so did Theodore.

  Overnight, the trade deals ended. Human settlers demanded more land, more resources, more access to clan property. Old Theo was willing to give it to them.

  It was a familiar chain of events, and surprisingly human too. I'd always been amazed at how quickly an empty belly and an enterprising traitor could create a revolution.

  Theodore and his partners drove the royal family away, promising a new beginning. Theodore created the Elder Council, unlocking some brutal and reckless impulses in the group to cement his power.

  The Klamath bears fanned out across the West, robbing banks and attacking small outpost towns until they caved, resuming the old trading deals at a favorable rate for the clan.

  And so the Elders consolidated their power. It was the new democratic way forward, sick from birth with all the corruption and backstabbing politics any human democracy brings.

  “You must be glad you've left that world behind.”

  Nick stared at me intently. I wanted to swallow my words.

  How stupid. The look on his face says he's anything but happy about exile from his country, his people. Love it or leave it, right?

  “It's good to take a break,” he said slowly. “Not like I have much choice. If I ever show my face among the Klamath bears again, they'll kill me.”

  “Don't be so sure about that.”

  He gave me an odd look. My heartbeat picked up.

  Shit. There was one little thing I left out as I read through the book and summarized all the relevant parts.

  “Tell me, Lyla. There's something else in that book, isn't there?”

  Busted.

  “I didn't want to tell you like this.” I moistened my lips, feeling his arm tightening around my shoulders. “It's Klamath's royal bloodline...the family name was Tundrae, and I think you
know what that means.”

  “Tundrae like Tunder? What, it's some derivative name? You mean...”

  He trailed off. Nick's grip on me changed to a harsher kind of comforting, growing in intensity, except now it wasn't just me he was trying to pacify.

  “Congratulations, King.” I gave him a big, silly smile, hoping it wouldn't be too inappropriate for the strange situation getting weirder by the day.

  “Gods!” He stood up, walking to the window again before coming back to me. “What about them, then? My father? My grandfather? Does that book say anything?”

  I dove for the huge open tome on the small desk. In his mad rush to devour everything, he might end up tearing its fragile pages or worse.

  “I told you everything. All of it. The chronicle stops in 1916. Didn't record anything about your family's fate. Obviously, someone returned to the Clan at some point.”

  “At some point. I was born there. Makes me wonder if my father was really killed in an auto accident after all.”

  Nick eyed me quietly. He'd revealed the family secret we shared, and somehow that brought us closer. Sympathy, love, everything gushed beneath the surface, filling the invisible space between us with a special kind of static.

  “Accidents can be planned,” I muttered, imagining all kinds of horrible possibilities.

  Nick took several steps to an open space on the wall. He leaned there, collecting his wits, a terrible storm of rage and nausea undoubtedly passing through his body.

  “You should rest, Nick. It's been a rough couple of days. We've got all the time in the world to figure out a new life, to forget all this shit...”

  “No.” He spun to face me, muscles engaged, flexing like he was bowing up to fight. “You've shown me the truth, Lyla. It's crazy, everything that's happened with you and I. But I can't just walk away from this.”

  Of course you can't. You're a man. Even if you're really more than that, you think and act like one.

  “Nick, think about this. Please! Not to be Captain Obvious, but we're dealing with some very dangerous people here. If you're really going to do...whatever it is you're going to do, then I can't stop you.”

  He relaxed. Slight satisfaction brushed his face, making it look warmer and more wholesome again.