by Lisa Daniels
“Huh. That’s actually… pretty smart,” Yara scowled. “But I don’t get why she had to fuck around with my brother.”
“Reasons,” Emma said. “Uncle reasons.”
Yara shook her head, not quite convinced. “Okay, let’s take you to my brother now. He should be out of his catatonic state by now...”
They grinned at one another, sharing a moment together. Emma let out a small sigh of relief, eager now to visit Arthur. To find a way of connecting with him again like before, to feel the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. Being in this grand mansion, however, daunted her. Everything seemed so opulent and so far out of her reach, and yet she stood in here, and no one minded. As if they had every intention of keeping her around. Upon giving her a home.
When she saw Arthur standing in the living room, holding a bottled beer, his eyes rested upon her and his face lit up like sunbeams.
“I still don’t know what the hell Lamarya was doing with you, but I’m glad you’re here.” He set the drink aside and wrapped her up in his big, meaty arms. A true bear hug. He inhaled her scent deeply and planted a little kiss upon her hair. “We’ll make sure you’re safe,” he promised with a growl, which rumbled through his chest and into Emma’s skin. “You don’t have to worry about what happens.”
She did, honestly, but appreciated his reassuring words all the same. Her blood stirred in anticipation, which she needed to seriously tamp down on. Any moment, naturally, Jackie might want to get a look in, and Emma wasn’t sure if she wanted to listen to that woman’s jabber. Her mind also whirled about her family. She needed to confront them. That much was for certain. She couldn’t keep running away just because it was more convenient. She needed to face up to them.
Otherwise she’d always be here, cowering about hearing from her family. She’d left the cellphone with their contacts at home, but knew them by heart anyway.
“Before we get down to business,” she murmured into Arthur’s chest, though really, she wanted to escape up into his bedroom right now, “I think I better contact my family.”
“Are you sure?” His arms gripped her tighter, more protectively.
“Mm hm. Lamarya drove me away from them, but I can’t keep running, can I?”
“I suppose not,” he said, though he sounded worried. “I suppose not.”
*****
Her parents and Marcus turned up at the Valor estate two hours later. The call had been quick, focusing on giving the address. Emma sat outside at a wooden table with an umbrella stuck in the center, shielded from potential rain. Her father’s white sedan had pulled up, and out came the three of them. Arthur sat by her side and Yara hovered nearby, ensuring that once again, they wouldn’t be able to bully her.
Marcus seemed less than happy about the arrangement, and it showed in the aggressive pout of his lips and the slits of his eyes.
“Do you really need to have him nearby? Scared that we might do something?” His voice came out a sneer. His gray eyes flashed.
“You know as well as I do that I’m too easy to manipulate,” Emma said, giving a sad smile. “So, yes. Whenever I do meet up with you, I want someone nearby to make sure that you don’t turn abusive.”
“Oh, Emma...” her mother said, smoothing down her flower smock dress. “He’s just worried about you.”
“Marcus worries about no one but himself. He’s very good, Ma, at being charming. But you don’t know what he does behind closed doors.”
Some of the cruelty twitched in Marcus’s face, as well as something that made Emma feel small, very small. Still, she saw something of a hesitation in her mother’s expression, and that emboldened her.
“I have been nothing but kind to you, Emma, and you have been nothing but ungrateful for it.”
Though Emma felt glad to be sitting down, as her shaking legs didn’t betray her, she didn’t know how much longer she could feign bravery. She sat, puffed out in defiance, but shriveled inside, to that husk she once was.
“That’s your problem, though, isn’t it? You’re always kind. I’m always ungrateful. You’re always in the right. I’m always in the wrong. Your mind games don’t work on me anymore, Marcus. Not now that I know what actual affection feels like.”
A ghost of a smile flickered on Arthur’s face, which Marcus didn’t fail to notice.
“So that’s it, then? You run away, and you betray me by sleeping with that lump of flesh? That’s it?”
“You abandoned me a long time ago, Marcus. I was a puppet in that house. Something for you to fuck around with. Not something you cared about. The only reason you’re here is because you can’t stand having someone out of your control. And you fooled my mother and father right into it.”
Marcus’s face turned red with rage, and he began to bluster, before Yara muscled in. “Looks like your time’s up,” Yara said to him. “She’ll speak to her parents now, dickhead.”
Emma almost burst out laughing when she saw Marcus attempt to punch Yara. The muscular woman avoided it and pinned him down upon the ground in seconds, his arm twisted behind him in a bone-breaking grip. “I suggest you don’t do that again.”
Cursing and spluttering, Marcus was forced to back away and to watch in a sullen silence as Emma turned to her parents.
“Father,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t hear another one of his taxes tirades. “The tax and business debacle is your fault. You’ve been running that business incompetently for years. No, listen. Listen. Listen to me!” she snapped, when her father started protesting. He shut up, eyes bulging at her shout. She never raised her voice. Ever. “The amount of times you turned up late or didn’t turn up at all. The amount of times you left it to me to clean up your mess and sort out your taxes. You honestly thought that it didn’t matter what you did, because I’d be there to stop it from going under. You took me for granted, Father. And when I left, without me reminding you about what not to do, you thought you saw a quick, easy way to make more money. Obviously, to do that, you would have needed access to the tax forms I left you, so you going on about how I’d misplaced them is a lie.” She took a deep breath, and her father’s bottom lip quivered.
“When your plan backfired, as it was always going to, you wanted me to come back and sort everything out, or for me to take the fall, somehow. You didn’t want to admit any kind of responsibility. Which is an ongoing theme in your life, given the number of failed business opportunities before.”
Arthur stepped forward when her father began to yell, and he joined the naughty corner with Marcus. So far, so good. The fact that she’d survived two encountered inspired Emma to the last.
“Mother. You just agree with whatever Father tells you to do, and whatever he says. You want to be shown as a united front with your husband, but that seems to come at the cost of ignoring what’s happening with your own daughter. You just want to deny anything’s wrong. Even if I came over to the house, wrists barely closed—” Emma sought to keep her breath steady, to remain calm about her attempted suicide, “—I think you would have found a way to not notice.”
Dark blue eyes stared into Emma’s, full of unfathomable guilt. Her mother let out a few, wet sobs, her throat apparently blocked by something, and Emma’s own heart nearly tore in two. The words needed to be said, but that didn’t make it any better. She finally got her words, but they needed to be said in a safe environment. Anything else would just be constant, relentless attempts to dragoon her into returning to her sad and gray life. And never again would that be her life.
Never again.
“In time, I hope to be able to connect with you again, Mom. And Dad. Not Marcus, though. He needs to stay away. I’m not going back into that web of his. I’ll get a restraining order if I need to. And you should be careful, too. He can’t be trusted.”
Her mother dabbed at her eyes, and without saying a word, went to go and join her husband. Emma wouldn’t have minded something. An acknowledgment that her mother agreed with Emma. A smile. An apology. Anything.
This reaction didn’t satisfy her at all. Even if her words against them did.
“You did good,” Arthur whispered, his hand resting on her shoulder. She shifted one wobbling leg to the other, hating how nervous and weak she felt. If this was what bravery felt like, then it was more of an endurance of fear. Of staying in the zone and not running away.
“Yeah, she’s staying with us now,” Yara informed them helpfully. “So if you do harbor any sneaky desires to corner her, good luck with that. And I’ll personally pay for court costs to get your bitch ass away,” she said with a snarl at Marcus. A tiny flash of her animal must have shown, because Marcus couldn’t wait to get out of there. Her parents left unceremoniously, in icy silence, with Marcus sullen in the backseat, and it felt like a victory.
Should a victory be this hollow, though? She didn’t think she’d changed their minds at all. Just silenced them, thanks to the burly presence of her two bear shifter companions.
“Could have gone worse,” Yara said in a cheerful way, hands upon her hips as she smiled at Emma. “Hopefully you feel a little more free of them now.”
Emma chewed on her words for a bit. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” She closed her eyes as Arthur planted a kiss upon the shell of her ear, and let it stabilize the churning emotions. His kiss turned into a soft nip, and arousal tore through her like wildfire.
“Not now,” she hissed, attempting to bat him away.
A devilish smile formed on his thin lips. “Oh, I think now.” His hand trailed to her wrist, and his fingers danced upon her skin.
The arousal heightened, and Emma bit hard upon her bottom lip. “I’m going to kill you for this...”
Just as soon as she’d finished with the fucking part, of course.
Chapter Ten – Arthur
He awoke with a rather satisfied smile, feeling Emma’s naked body pressed against him. It might have been the day of the Honor Duel, but he wasn’t wasting much time when it came to Emma. Her blonde hair lay in a mess, obscuring a part of her face, and he set to kissing the exposed parts of her cheek. She didn’t stir, so he crept down to her neck, kissing and licking at the soft skin there. Excitement pulsed in his chest, and his mind soared with images of all the things he wanted to do with her—to squeeze in as much as possible before the Honor Duel. The brief stab of fear that went through him quickly dissolved into seeking out pleasure.
Wonder how long before she wakes up and notices? He kept the teasing light, making sure to touch different parts of her body, checking to make sure she wasn’t displaying any signs of dissatisfaction, or sudden nightmares. Clearly, her body trusted him enough to do this, and that aroused him beyond measure. Did make it a little uncomfortable, too, as he tried to remove the contact of his erection with her side. He intended to work his way down to between her legs, to taste her and give Emma one hell of a wake-up session, but her body seemed to have other ideas. With her eyes still resting shut, her legs spread, and one hand brushed his arousal. Probably not completely asleep, then.
“I’m gonna,” he said, kissing her collarbone, “move my lips down...”
“No,” she breathed, her eyes still shut. “Take me...” Her hands began pulling at him to get on top of her. Well, he could hardly refuse that request now, could he? Desire beat within his blood, making it hard to focus. A tightness grew in his genitals, and with a rumbling growl, he moved between her legs and pressed himself against her slippery entrance, instantly dipping in. Warmth enveloped his erection as he plunged deep into her, reveling in the physical sensations, the way the blankets rustled around them, and how her breaths turned into quick, tight gasps. She opened her eyes and stared into his, before reaching to clutch his shoulders and run her fingers over his body.
She rocked back and forth with him, letting out little whimpers of pleasure, and it caused him to tighten too fast, to come too fast into her, and he flushed and smiled apologetically at her as he began to deflate. She didn’t seem to mind, though. She certainly didn’t mind the way his fingers traveled down to find her bundle of nerves and work at the slick tip until she trembled and cried her way through an orgasm.
They collapsed again in a happy heap. “That makes it twice this night,” he said, relaxing and taking a moment to nuzzle at her neck.
“Let’s not get you too exhausted,” Emma said, cheeks flushed with lingering pleasure. Heat seemed to rise from her skin. “I’d like you… to survive this Honor Duel.”
“I will,” he said, though he knew it pointless to make a promise that might not necessarily be kept. He said to her what he wanted. To come out of the encounter alive, family drama solved, and ready to pursue this time a healthy relationship. One apparently blessed by the bear spirit.
They dressed and ventured down for breakfast, though Arthur’s guts felt like little wriggling worms trying to escape out of his mouth. He barely managed a bite of the food laden upon the dining room table, even though his mother had gone to great lengths to give him the “Breakfast of Champions.”
At Emma’s urging, he consumed more than just scraps, but couldn’t quite dispel the horrible, nauseating wriggle in his stomach. Come evening, one person would live, one person would die.
His father feared deeply for him, and Arthur couldn’t exactly blame the old man. He lost his brother in the same way a long time back. Now he might lose his son. All the training in the world couldn’t prepare for any dosage of bad luck. His family all gave expressions varying from encouragement to concern, and usually both. Enyeto had offered twice to fight—he had trained more in the ways of bear fighting, and maybe he stood a better chance—but Arthur didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to be responsible for the possible death of a sibling. This was his idea, his fight, his moment to shine or fall.
The day stretched on, and his father ran him through some more routines, not taxing his body much, just making sure he moved fluidly in his bear form and could prepare for the various methods of attack to be used.
Even Jackie kept her babble of inheritance to a minimum, and a strain of fear tinted her eyes. About thirty minutes from sundown, Arthur, whose nerves had all but shut down on him, hopped into his sister’s car, and she drove him to the tennis courts, where there was a big, bark-strewn field next to it. Perfect for bears to walk across. And perfect now, for the fight.
Most of his family were there, barring Enyeto, his mother and grandmother, just in case this ended up being an ambush. They wanted some potential survivors. Emma wasn’t there, either. Arthur didn’t want her to watch another fight to the death, given her reaction from before. She didn’t deserve to suffer through that anymore. And in case he died, Yara would help look after her. All the precautions had been taken. He sat and waited, staring into the gathering dusk, wondering if his uncle would even turn up. The sounds of an aggressive motor in the distance answered the doubt eating him up, and they watched intently as a black car stopped nearby and four people stepped out of it. Uncle Gilnes and three other men that Arthur didn’t recognize. Gilnes’s eyes settled upon Arthur’s father, and he smiled.
“Good to see you again.”
His father didn’t reply. Yara glared. One of the men Gilnes had brought now squared himself up to Arthur, and Arthur couldn’t help but notice that the brute seemed even more made of muscles than he was, and that was quite impressive. And scary.
“This here is Jakis,” Gilnes said, tapping the brute’s shoulder. “And he’ll be the one fighting you.”
Great, Arthur thought, privately noting that whatever brains were in this man had likely been squeezed out due to muscles. They quickly arranged themselves to face one another, with Arthur’s father muttering about Gilnes, describing him as an “arrogant traitor.”
When Arthur shifted into bear form, his thoughts heightened and all his senses enhanced, making him more alert to air currents, to smells, to everything. Including the hulking, sandy-colored bear in front of him, who easily outstripped him in size. His bowels almost turned to water in fear—but right now, he neede
d to control it. To focus. Nothing but the fight mattered.
Nothing but getting out of this situation alive.
With a roar, Jakis, ears flat on his skull, charged towards Arthur, eyes alight with the lust to kill. No way could Arthur outmatch this monster. He simply didn’t have the training. He should have been facing his uncle. And even if he won, would Gilnes keep his word, anyway?
In that moment, Arthur knew what to do. He dodged the charge and angled himself so that he faced his uncle, waiting for Jakis to turn and charge again. Arthur continued dodging, which brought a derisive snarl from Jakis.
Stand and fight, you coward!
But they edged closer to where Gilnes stood, all under the pretext of a fight. Arthur kept getting little stabs of fright whenever he thought he miscalculated, putting him in perfect range of the other shifter. If he’d been in human form, he’d be drenched in sweat. It’s not my fault you’re so big and slow, Arthur snapped back, and the brawnier bear stood on his hind legs to enhance his height, bellowing.
Arthur made his move. He thundered forward, appearing as if he intended to bowl into Jakis, but at the last moment, swerved, charging straight for Gilnes. By the time the old bear realized what was happening, he began to transform, but not fast enough as Arthur set himself upon him, and bit down, ending the shifter’s life. A coppery, hot taste exploded in his mouth, and he whirled upon the second shifter, who stood there, too stunned to react, as Arthur turned on him, too. Vaguely, he saw his own family shifting to join the fray, to help take down the enormous sandy bear, to stop the other bear from escaping. Two bodies down. Three—the other shifter had attempted to run for the vehicle but got cut down by Yara.
I can’t believe you did this, brother. How honorless, Yara said, though she didn’t sound particularly offended at his lack of honor.
I’m doing exactly what he would have done, Arthur grunted, ignoring Jakis’ manic screams, even as they grouped together and finished him off. They stood there for a stunned moment, surveying the quick, wanton destruction.