by Milly Taiden
She lifted her chin. “It’s long sleeved and I’m wearing boots, plus I brought a jacket. It’s in the…the…thing.” She gestured to the storage compartment.
“The hold?” Damen replied. “Where we store goods and equipment. The hold that isn’t pressurized for living beings?”
“Okay, okay—” She winced. “I get it. Stupid stowaway move, but there was no way I was spending one more day as part of the baby central. I need this, Damen.” She raised an eyebrow. “Remember need?”
He stared at her, but his eyes darkened for a moment and a smirk tugged at his lips.
“Besides, I thought a lot about what you said last night about this alpha guy. If I’m not a one-night stand, then maybe that means I’m supposed to be something else to you.” She looked at him, encouraging. “It’s worth finding out, right? It’s like you told Jag, your alpha/omega thing is intact.”
He frowned. “Eavesdropping is not nice.”
“It’s not like I could help it, besides you were very gallant.” She smiled. “Most guys would kiss and tell after the night we had.”
Jag stuck his fingers in his ears. “Okay…lalalalalala. Riley’s not here to take the edge off and I can’t walk around torqued up for however long this expedition lasts, so you two need to cork it!”
“We’re through the turbulence, but conditions at the hover site are too dangerous between the peaks. We’re going to have to drop you on the opposite side. I hope you packed warm,” the pilot announced. “Ten minutes.”
“Hover site?” Henley asked.
Jag nodded. “The shuttle can’t land outside a transport bay, so we have to jump.”
“Jump.” She looked from one to the other. “Like we did with Gerri when we came to Nova?”
Damen shook his head. “Ever been extreme skiing?”
8
The inner transport door slid open and an icy blast blew through the inside cabin. Heavy wind rocked the craft as Jag tossed the last of their belongings out the egress. He then slipped a small backpack over his shoulders, tossing a second one to Damen.
“Wait, what are you doing?” she asked as Damen stepped behind her, taking her arms.
“It’s like a parachute. I don’t need one, so you can use mine,” he said, slipping the wide straps up and over her shoulders.
Jag pointed out the opening and then tapped his wrist. We have to go. The shuttle can’t hover much longer in this wind.”
Eyes wide, she looked between the two, incredulous. “You want me to jump alone? On Earth, people never jump alone the first time. Can’t we do it together?” she asked, yelling over the din of the wind.
Damen looked down at her with a smirk. “Isn’t that the whole point of you tagging along? So that we can do it together?”
“Hey, hey…what did I say about corking it?” Jag teased. “Just put on the damn chute, Damen, and drop with her. She’s not that big.”
Henley burst out laughing. “Now that’s something I’ve heard before, like never!”
“You guys need to go, now or I have to abort!” the pilot crackled over the loud speaker.
Damen yanked the pack from Henley’s shoulders and quickly fastened it on himself. “Wrap your legs around my waist and hold on tight!”
She jumped up, hiking her legs and arms as he said and with a yell, Damen dove from the transport with Jag right behind.
“Don’t kill us, you big bear!” she ground out, hiding her face in his neck. Adrenaline poured into her blood making her skin vibrate with excitement. This was fucking amazing!
The wind whipped at them as they freefell. Henley held with a death grip as Damen whooped, hollering as they dove. He pulled the string last minute and they floated to the snowy embankment.
“You can let go, now,” he joked, chuckling as she gripped his neck.
“That was incredible!” She sucked in a breath and let go, putting one leg down and then the other. There was almost no wind on the ridge and she turned, still in his arms, pushing her hair from her face. The views stunned her for a moment, locking her breath in her throat as she took in the landscape. “Forget the dive! Damen…this is amazing!”
“No, you stubborn, reckless remarkable girl. You are the one who’s amazing,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her hair. “No woman I know is as brave.”
He sounded almost proud, and she felt herself blush. “So, I’m no longer rash and unthinking?”
“Nope. That, you are.” He let go of her waist to help Jag with the supplies. “But you’re also wild and uninhibited and I wouldn’t change that about you for the world.”
She stifled a sigh, turning instead to the vista ahead. Inhaling the clean, crisp air she nodded to herself. “So this is where you grew up.”
Now she understood why the majestic peaks were called the Mirror Mountains. They were the complete mirror image of each other. Opposite but equal, and just as imposing. Her breath puffed out in white clouds, but she wasn’t cold. She was exhilarated.
“Not quite,” Damen replied lifting one of the heavy packing containers he brought for his clan and stowing it under a rock overhang. “I grew up on the opposite side of this ridge. The Summit clan likes its privacy, and the gorge between the Mirror peaks provides that.”
She looked at him as he and Jag lifted and carried. Privacy or isolation? Her guess was isolation.
“Can I help?” she asked making a muscle. “I’m pretty strong for a chick.”
Jag rolled his eyes. “It’s bad enough you stowed away in the first place. If you get hurt lugging this stuff, there’s no way to get you back to the Palladia. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the middle of frozen Nomadville. As it is, you’re going to stay with Damen’s clan while we head into the jungle. That’s if they let us stay. In the meantime, we need to get these supplies hidden. There are rogue elements on this mountain.”
“Watch your mouth, Kasaval, or we’ll watch as you freeze your royal ass stuck out on this ridge.”
Damen stopped mid-lug and turned toward the voice. He hoisted the container from his shoulder and placed it beside him in the snow. Jag walked to his side and Henley scooted closer as five men crested a far snowdrift.
They stopped twenty feet from where the three of them stood. Four men flanked the one at the center, two on each side. They were as big as any other Galaxan male, but rougher. Almost brutal in their furs and skins.
“Not all mountain men are rogues, Your Highness, although some of us are deserters,” the man at the center of the greeting party said.
Henley’s gaze settled on the man. His voice was like steel and silk. Hard and cold, yet smooth and sensual. He was gorgeous with blond scruff on a chiseled jaw. Bright blue eyes missed nothing, and the sleek fur hat on his head made him seem even more rugged and sexy. He stepped forward and slid a fur-lined glove from his hand, extending it to Jag.
“The Summit Clan welcomes you,” he said, clearly ignoring Damen.
Henley raised an eyebrow, but when the man pulled his hat from his head, she sucked in a breath. Like the Mirror Mountains on either side of them, the man standing opposite Jag might as well have been the mirror image of Damen. Opposite but alike. Light where Damen was dark.
Gunnar.
There was no other explanation that fit.
Jag took the man’s hand, yet Damen’s face was a mask. Henley slipped her hand into his, noting the shadow crossing his eyes.
“Gunnar. I didn’t expect you to greet us, considering,” Damen said.
The mountain alpha looked at Damen, his gaze cold. “Considering what? That you ran out on our clan? Abandoned your end of our contract?” Blue eyes slid toward Henley and they flicked from her face downward and then back. He inhaled, his gaze tightening. “Your latest conquest, Damen? I didn’t expect you to return after all this time with your hat in hand, but I didn’t expect disrespect. I guess I should have known better.”
Henley looked at Damen, ignoring his nearly imperceptible warning. “Excuse me? I understand
you two have unfinished business, but don’t for one second think you can use me as a weapon in this testosterone-driven standoff. What I am to Damen is none of your business, and I resent the implication that my presence is disrespectful. You don’t know me, yet you have no problems hurling insults my way.
“As for Damen, he at least greeted you with civility, which is more than I can say for the way you’ve treated us. You’re the alpha of your clan? Well, maybe you should learn to lead by example. You want respect, then you need to learn to show respect. In the meantime, you want to have a pissing contest with Damen, go right ahead. Whatever floats your boat, but leave me out of it. When the two of you decide to play nice in this frozen sandbox, then come talk to me. Until that time, I’m Switzerland.” She dragged a level hand in front of her chest.
Blue eyes flashed, but a smirk tugged at the gorgeous line of Gunnar’s mouth. “Switzerland?”
“It’s a country back home on Earth famous for its neutrality,” she replied.
Gunnar nodded, sparing a glance for Damen. “I can see the attraction, brother. She’s got fire in her belly like a Summit woman.”
Jag took the man’s hand and shook it. “Thank you for the welcome, Gunnar. I suppose you received Vander’s communique about our arrival.”
“Yes, I received it via satellite yesterday. I have rooms ready, if you’ll follow us.” He let go of Jag’s hand and as he turned his eyes moved to the supply bins under the rocky overhang. “If there’s anything of value in those we need to take them now, if not, can I send men back for them later?”
Damen stepped forward. “They are for the clan. Fine fabrics and thread, dried fruits and nuts, chocolate and sweets for the children and, of course, cases of Sidaii.” His dark eyes met Gunnar’s blue. “I brought them as peace offerings, Gunnar. Whatever you think of me, I have never forgotten our people.”
He hmmphed in reply. “Really. Considering you never answered one of my communiques, I find that hard to believe.”
“What communiques? I never received a single message, Gunnar. Your last words to me were that I was shunned. I didn’t question your silence because Cero banned contact with me.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Since when does the Summit have transmission technology for communiques?”
Gunnar eyed him, his blue gaze somber. “A lot has changed since you left, Damen. You would have known had you answered my communiques.”
“How could I reply when none of your messages reached me? If they were sent at all,” he scoffed.
Jag got between the two and their escalating argument. “How about we continue this debate in a place where I won’t freeze my balls? I’ve got a mate who’d like me to father her children at some point.”
Henley snickered at that, stifling a shiver. Her coat left with the shuttle.
Gunnar didn’t miss a beat. He pulled his coat from his back and slipped it over Henley’s shoulders. His fingers lingered for just a second, but in that moment, she was very much aware of the man and his touch. His scent surrounded her, mingling with Damen’s from before and her hand moved to her stomach and the butterflies winging around at top speed.
Maybe Gerri was wrong, and she was a ho. Damen had rocked her world with his tongue buried in her pussy less than twenty-four hours ago, and here she was with her nether regions buzzing for a hot blonde. Gunnar was the equal and opposite member of a future triad along with Damen. She shivered at the thought of them both together with her. Maybe a dirty threesome wasn’t such a strange idea after all.
Gunnar’s blue gaze found her hazel eyes and locked for a moment. His nostrils flared, and she waited for them to narrow knowing he could scent Damen on her from the night before, but they didn’t. His eyes changed slightly, the color darkening to almost a navy blue and he pulled his gaze from hers to find Damen as he watched.
Neither said a word, but something was exchanged, she was sure. Gunnar pulled his fingers from her shoulders, leaving his fur behind. He spared a nod to his omega, and in that moment, Damen’s body language changed. Almost as if whatever was between them was settled, or at least on the mend.
Damen walked beside Gunnar, and Henley hurried to slide in next to Jag as the others carried the supplies. “Is it my imagination, or did things just change?” she whispered.
“Something changed. Maybe Gunnar decided not to kill Damen after all,” Jag replied.
She stared at the prince, her mouth hanging open and her throat suddenly tight. “Holy crap! Was that even a possibility? Why the hell did Vander let him come, then?”
“At first, he wasn’t going to let him.” Jag looked at her, almost gauging how much to say. “I was originally doing this as a solo. Vander knew Gunnar would agree to help if the request came by royal appeal, but there was a distinct possibility he’d tell us to shit in a hat if Damen showed his face. To be honest, it was Gerri who convinced Vander to let Damen accompany me.” He shrugged. “She’s small, but she’s mighty and we’ve learned not to underestimate her when she calls a spade a spade.”
Henley’s brows knotted and she looked at the two hulking men walking ten feet ahead. One light. One dark. But mirror images nonetheless. Damen’s words came back.
My hands are tied, Henley.
I can’t. Not solo, anyway.
I’m part of a triad…
She watched the two of them together and how their bodies moved alike, sexy, like predators in motion. Sensual. Carnal. Butterflies kamikazed in her stomach.
“Gerri Wilder. You are one sneaky, old wench,” she muttered to herself.
9
Damen stopped under the wide stone arch that led through to the Summit village. His eyes took in every stone, every building, before looking for Gunnar.
“I told you, much has changed since you left,” the alpha replied to the omega’s quiet appraisal.
Damen raised an eyebrow. “How did you get Cero to agree to join the progressive age? You’ve got communication towers and holographic transmitters between our traditional stone and wood buildings,” he said. “When? How?”
“After you left. Cero tried to keep his hold on the council. They never expected you to call the old man’s bluff. To be honest, neither did I.” He shrugged. “When we discovered you gone the next morning, there was hell to pay. The elder council blamed Cero,” Gunnar paused. “And me.”
Damen spared Gunnar and doubtful look. “You? You’re their golden child, literally,” he said moving his hand up and down.
“Fat lot it did me without you here.” Gunnar walked through the arched gateway and motioned to his men. “Bring the supplies and the gifts from the capital to the main hall. We can set them up for distribution later.”
Henley and Jag walked up, stopping beside Damen at the gate. Gunnar turned, sweeping his arm toward a massive chalet carved into the side of the mountain and the picturesque homes and shops along the snowy road that winded upward to the lodge.
“This is Summit. Welcome,” he said with a smile, and turning to Damen he inclined his head, but didn’t offer more. “Rooms are prepared.” He slid his eyes to Henley. “I’ll have to make arrangements for you, though, love. I didn’t know Damen was bringing company.”
She lifted her chin. “Now, now. I thought I asked not to be a pawn in your pissing match…and you two were behaving so nicely too.” She clicked the inside of her cheek.
“My apologies,” he replied with a smirk. “Still, I wish I had known you were accompanying the expedition.”
Damen nodded moving to Henley’s side. “Yeah, you and me both. She’s a stowaway. Her adventure junkie got the better of her and she snuck onto the transport and fell out of a storage hold when we hit turbulence.”
Gunnar’s lips spread in a wide appreciative grin. “Fire.”
“Yeah, well. If you two don’t fix what’s wrong between you, I might have to burn you both for the hell of it,” she huffed, pushing past them on the path.
Both Gunnar and Damen burst out laughing and she glanced over her shoulder, cat
ching a glimpse of what the two must have been like as teenagers, before their elders interfered. Her heart squeezed. Maybe Gerri was right and Damen needed to be here.
“Well, are you going to stand there staring or are you going to show me around? This place is a winter wonderland, and since I’m Switzerland for the next week or so, I declare this neutral territory, just like me,” she flashed them a smile and together they shook their heads. “Chop, chop, boys. Mama’s hungry and she wants to sightsee before we hit the big bad jungle.”
Gunnar’s eyes flew to Damen. “You’re not seriously letting her come with us to find the Hatun? You know what lurks in the shadows that far in, or have you forgotten that as well?”
Damen stepped closer, stiff-jawed. “My memory is perfect, and no, she’s not coming with us.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, mouths tight.
“Good. At least you haven’t lost what sense the gods gave you,” Gunnar replied, but before Damen could shoot back, she got between them.
“Enough. Please,” Henley argued. “I know you two have a lot to talk about, but can’t it wait until we’re in front of a fire or something? Or at least until I can feel my feet again? Whatever adrenaline I had from jumping out of that transport is gone. My hands, feet, and nose are about to shatter, they’re so cold.”
Gunnar didn’t wait. He scooped her up in his arms and started up the path.
“Hey!” she cried. “I can walk myself!” She squirmed against his rock hard chest, but all that did was make him chuckle.
The soft rumble and the way he smelled up close and personal sent her libido into orbit. He was as intoxicating as Damen. And the two were supposed to be a matched set? Holy hotness and damp panties!
Jag and Damen flanked Gunnar as they trekked toward the chalet. She peeked at Damen over Gunnar’s huge shoulder, blowing the fur from his coat away from her face.
“Stop smirking, bear boy. I know what you’re thinking,” she mumbled.
Damen’s grin went ear to ear and her eyes went wide that he heard her and Gunnar chuckled even more at the way she stiffened. “He’s a shifter, Henley, of course he heard you. I’ll let you in on a trade secret. He knows what you’re thinking, too.” He slid his eyes to hers, a soft smirk on his lips as her cheeks flushed against his hard chest. “And so do I.”