Agatha frowns. “I just switched to English and so did you.” My mouth falls open and she wrinkles her nose. “Let’s experiment.”
Georg’s aunt goes back and forth between the languages a few times. After a while, I can hear the difference if I concentrate hard enough. The Russian is more musical, and strange, while English is both more cumbersome and more familiar. Then she adds in something else that has a different ring than either of the others. I stop her immediately.
“What was that? You said, can you hear me now? But it didn’t sound the same.”
“That was Old Norse.” She straightens in her chair and tilts her head back. The gesture is so familiar it makes me smile. Georg does the same thing when he’s thinking hard. “I don’t know much about this conduit thing, but I am wondering if you’re not constantly pulling energy from the environment around you. Unconsciously, almost like breathing. Not enough for anyone to really notice, but enough to help you with small things.”
“Like not understanding a language.”
“Yes.” She folds her arms. “I’d like to see this watch now.”
I cross the room and take Papa’s watch from the satchel, holding it in my hand for a long moment. It’s silent now, just as it’s been ever since we left the forest.
“Here.” I step to her chair and drop it in her hand. “It was my father’s. It’s the only thing I have…from before.”
She purses her lips, turning the worn metal over in her hand. “And it’s always been broken?”
“Yes. The hands never move, even when it started ticking again, they stayed frozen.”
Depressing the latch, she nods absently. “Six on the dot. That’s odd.”
“Yes, I thought so, too.”
She lifts her head, her gaze piercing. “Why?”
“Well, it’s only common sense, isn’t it?” I say a bit defensively. “Why should a watch break precisely at the top of the hour?”
“Yes. Unless magic was involved.” She taps the crystal thoughtfully. Then pries her fingernail between it and the case.
“Hey,” I protest, but it’s too late. The crystal pops off in her hand. She squints at the dial.
“As I thought. There is an inscription.”
“Inscription?” I lean closer, barely able to stop myself from snatching it back.
“Yes, well. Human eyes are pathetic. And the crystal is rather cloudy.” She snaps the crystal back on and gets to her feet, dropping the watch back into my hand. “ ‘To Charles. With all my love, Rosa. 1857, Cheshire, England.’ ”
I was right. Dazed, I stare down at the watch. “Is Cheshire a town?” I ask. My pulse is thrumming in my ears.
“I believe it’s a county,” she says crisply. “Still, closer than we were when I walked in here, eh?”
“Yes, it most certainly is.” I do have a home. A place where I belong.
15
“So, what do you think of her?”
“I think that you have better things to do with your time than worry about some lost human.”
“Aggie.”
It’s been almost a week since Alice and I returned from the forest. Agatha has been meeting with Alice every day. Keeping her occupied, just as Samuel wished.
I doubt the king would approve of all their activities, though. Besides teaching her the ins and outs of the modern world, Agatha is also helping Alice with the watch. Our little conduit can start it at will now, no threat needed. She still can’t draw much power and tires out quickly, but it’s coming easier every day.
“Fine. I like her. She’s . . . interesting. Sharp, and not nearly as simple as they make her out to be— though she is sweet and uncommonly eager to please.” My aunt presses her lips together and I know what’s coming. Just like when I was a teenager, something I want to hear, followed by something I don’t. “You can’t have her.”
“Can’t I?” I say mildly, grabbing my suit jacket from the chair.
Agatha watches me put it on, her eyes narrowing. “You told them she wasn’t a problem.”
“It doesn’t have to be a problem,” I hedge. But it will be, I know. It’s one thing to have a human liaison, as Konstantin likes to put it, even though technically Alice and I still haven’t gotten to liaison territory.
But it’s quite another to announce said human as your mate.
With a sigh, Agatha sits down on the bed and picks at the seed pearls on her skirt. “I’ve always been proud of you. Maybe I don’t have that right, but—”
“You have every right.”
Her gaze softens before turning sharp. “The witch hurt you.”
I sigh. “This isn’t about—"
She lifts a hand. “No. I’ll say my piece, dammit. Persephone was impulsive, reckless, and gods know I blamed her when you died. I would’ve ripped out her throat given half a chance. But in the end, I had to face the truth.” She gets to her feet. Her eyes, dark as my own, are disconcertingly blank. “The problem was never with Persephone, it was with you. You wanted what you wanted and damn anything that got in your way.”
“It’s not the same with Alice.” I shake my head, unable to find the right words. “She’s mine. Truly mine.”
There is a weariness in her expression that unsettles me. “Perhaps she is.” Another sigh. “But she’s not theirs, Georg.”
“She could be. Given time.”
“Even if such a miracle were possible, it’d take years. Years for that kind of acceptance. You’d ask that of her?” Agatha pulls her wrap tighter around her shoulders. “She’s not a witch, she barely understands this world, or our ways. She’ll be crushed.”
“She’s stronger than you think.”
“Maybe. But are you strong enough?”
“Me?”
“Yes, Nephew,” she says dryly. “Can you watch your people treat her like you know they will and not start to hate them a little?”
Her question is still ringing in my ears as I walk down the hall to Alice’s quarters a few minutes later. There’s no denying she has a point. More than one. Seph wasn’t a good choice, for me or the crown, really. I can see that now. But she did understand bruins, and could go toe to toe with any of us. Alice, she has an inner strength, but she’s just learning who she is. I told her she wasn’t ready, there in the forest. I was talking about sex, but maybe she’s not ready for this either. Queen of the bruins. It’s asking a lot of any woman.
I stop in the middle of the hallway, frowning. It’s weird. Everyone around us compares Alice to Persephone, but I haven’t. Not once before tonight.
Now, of course, I can’t help it. When I push open the door to her room, she’s standing in front of the mirror, talking to Jada. The dress she is wearing is a simple column of red that leaves her shoulders bare and makes my hands ache to bare even more.
Like Seph, Alice is small—but then most women are to me. She’s at least five eight or five nine. I suppose she might be considered willowy. The top of her head almost reaches my shoulder. She’s slim, her curves a subtle temptation. Her dark hair is shiny and thick, and then there’s those eyes. The misty grey of a forest night when the moon is high and fog gathers in the hollows.
Where Seph is bouncy and bold and in your face, Alice is a quiet and cool mystery, her appeal sneaking up on you. But what I feel when I look at her…
Like I told Agatha, it’s not the same. Not at all.
She is mine, and I am hers.
It’s all so fucking clear. Except for that one piece.
That goddamn crown.
“Shall we?”
Alice starts at the sound of my voice. “You
16
“I don’t want you to miss your first ball,” he whispers in my ear.
”I don’t care about the ball,” I whisper back.
17
I’ve never been anyone’s first. Never been anyone’s only. A hot, fierce snarl claws free of my throat. “Fuck no. No stopping.” No more second-guessing, not tonight.
Tonight isn’t a
bout Alice’s past, or my future. Tonight is about us.
She sighs and it’s a happy sigh. One that turns into a gasp when I swing her over my shoulder and get to my feet. “That dress has got to go. Now.”
“I thought you liked my dress,” she teases, but her voice catches when I cup her bottom through the thin silk and squeeze as I wind my way through my chambers to the bedroom.
“I do, which is why it has to go. Men only like dresses they want to take off.”
“Is that so?”
“Yup.” I toss her on the bed, smiling at her squeal as she bounces once. I can be gentle, and I intend to be, but there is something about Alice that tells me that it’s not going to be easy.
When I follow her down to the bed, my hands are shaking. She notices, lifting her head with that glint in her eyes. “What happened to my big, bad bear?”
“You,” I say simply. Then I tear her dress in two. The sound of ripping fabric is loud over the pop of the fire. Alice’s eyes go wide as I toss the remnants over one shoulder.
“I didn’t realize that bodice ripping was an actual thing.”
I smile. “It is in this fairy tale, sweetheart.”
She smiles, too, but it trembles at the edges as she takes a shaky breath. She’s a brave woman, whether she realizes it or not, but Alice is nervous. Part of her, anyway.
Other parts, not so much.
Her nipples are tight points under the bit of cloth that remains. I pull that away as well, until Alice is naked from head to toe. Her dark hair ripples across the snowy coverlet, the soft curls at the end tangling in the furs at the foot of the bed. The firelight licks over her skin, making me irrationally jealous. I need the taste of her on my tongue, her scent in my nose and her screams in my ears.
Now.
I pull my shirt over my head, then unbutton my pants. Her lips part when I kick the pants off entirely, taking myself in hand. It’s not in a bruin’s nature to be shy, and I don’t attempt to hide anything from her gaze as I put a knee on the mattress. She looks more fascinated than anything, but I have to ask. “You’re not scared?”
Slowly, she shakes her head. “N-no. Not exactly. Mostly, I think I’m . . .” Her eyes are locked on my cock. When her voice trails off and she licks her lips unconsciously, I can feel the sweat gathering along my spine.
“What, Alice?” I’m trying not to snarl, but it’s a close thing.
Her eyes trail back up to my face. “I’m curious. And excited. And I really, really want you to touch me. But I can’t decide what I want you to touch first.”
“How about you let me worry about that?”
She laughs, but when I drop to my knees at the foot of the bed, pulling her hips to the very edge, she tries to sit up. “What are you doing?”
“Remember the rules we talked about in the forest?” I warn softly, my hands going still. “Trust me.” Alice swallows, then lies back down.
“Good girl.” I murmur, cupping the top of her thigh, stroking the soft skin, feeling her tremble. “Now put the pillow under your head. The big one.”
“Why?” She’s already doing as I asked, stretching her naked body back in a way that makes my bear growl low and fierce.
“Because I want to see me use my mouth on you.” Our gazes lock as Alice freezes in place.
“Oh.”
I smile, kissing her belly button as she lay back again, loving the way her stomach muscles jump under my lips. Taking my time, I kiss my way lower, letting my beard trail over the sensitive skin covering her hipbone before pressing another kiss there. Another at the junction where her thigh meets the soft swell of her sex. She jumps every time, little gasps turning into breathy whines. My cock pulses with every sexy new sound she makes.
When I kiss the dewy patch of curls above her center, Alice fists the sheets. The tips of her small breasts are tight and dark as she sucks in a long shaky breath.
When I part her with my tongue, she lets her breath out in a whoosh. “Georg.” She arches up, not knowing what she needs but begging for it nevertheless. So I give it to her.
It isn’t long before she has her hands on my head. Nails scraping against my scalp, fingers wrapped in my hair, tugging sharply. Her silky thighs squeeze my head as she writhes, losing herself completely. I slip one hand under her bottom, squeezing the firm curve while I work my tongue in and out until she breaks.
Alice doesn’t make a sound when she comes, but that’s almost hotter. Because her body is anything but silent. Her legs shake and her toes curl, digging into my back. Pale skin flushes to rose and turns damp with sweat. Sweet liquid heat flows against my lips and leaves glistening trails down her inner thighs.
When the spasms finally stop, I lift her limp body in my hands, throwing her farther up on the bed before moving between her legs. “I can’t wait any longer, Alice.”
She nods mutely, two bright spots of color in those porcelain cheeks. When I lift her thigh and set my tip against her, her mouth forms a small O. I don’t give her time to tense or consider what comes next, I just thrust. Slow but steady.
Gods, I never want to stop.
The soft give of her flesh makes me want to roar in satisfaction. She’s slick and ready and the feel of her is beyond imagining. But her passage is so tight, I can barely move for fear of hurting her. Her eyes are shut tight now, fingers curled into hard little fists in the sheets. Gods.
“Breathe, Alice.”
The faintest hint of a smile. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, sweetheart,” I groan.
Thank the gods, that’s my girl. I lift her leg higher and ease a little deeper. Inch by inch, she manages to take all of me. Until we’re locked together as one, our breaths ragged, our skins sheened in sweat, her bare breasts pressed so tightly against my chest it feels like our hearts are truly one entity. She holds me fast, muscles locked down so tightly I can feel myself throbbing.
“Georg,” she protests when I shift my weight to one side. Or maybe pleads. I’m not sure she knows the difference herself anymore. With two fingers, I open her folds around my cock, hissing out a ragged breath.
“What are you doing?” she pants.
In answer, I stroke her clit, lightly at first. Her head falls back and soon she starts to rock her hips. Tiny movements that she probably doesn’t even register at first, too intent on the pleasure my fingers are giving her.
But when I start to move, her hands find my arms immediately, sliding up until her nails are digging into my skin. I watch the emotions dance across her face, more pleasure, a hint of pain, surprise and growing desire. Finally it all settles into a kind of dazed wonder as she looks up at me.
“So this is what sex is like,” she breathes, arching up and making me bite back a groan.
I don’t know how to tell her it’s really not. That what is happening between us is not mere sex. I circle my hips and she gasps. When I do it again, her eyes go wide. “Georg.”
The sheer need in her voice breaks something inside of me, freeing the beast within. Ruthlessly, I use my fingers and my body to drive her higher, until she’s writhing and begging under me. Dark hair tangles over those pale lips that tremble every time I thrust. When she comes this time, it’s with a piercing scream of shock and ecstasy, the ripples of her orgasm pushing me to the brink of sanity.
My rhythm turns relentless as I chase my own pleasure, taking her sweet body hard and fast.
“You belong to me now,” I growl, wrapping her hair around my fist as I thrust deep inside her still-spasming pussy. “You fucking belong to me, Alice.”
“I know,” she cries out. “I know.”
Her nails tighten on the backs of my arms, her back arching, those perfect tits trembling. By Odin, the woman is perfect. Every fucking bit of her is made just for me.
I spill inside her a heartbeat later with a roar I barely manage to muffle against her throat. Her pulse flutters like a hummingbird’s against my lips as I fight to stay conscious. Coming inside Alice is like nothing
I’ve ever felt before, a series of explosions laid along the base of my spine. A brutal ecstasy that is primal, bone-deep and utterly consuming.
Mine.
“Is it going to be like that every time we have sex?” She asks in a small voice.
I laugh and settle back into bed. “No.” I tweak her nose. “But I think you didn’t entirely mind.”
She flushes but throws one leg over my hips, snuggling close. “Not entirely, no. But I would like a warning first.”
All of a sudden, she stiffens, moving her thigh and looking down between us. My cock went hard the instant her skin brushed mine. I sigh. “I’m afraid I won’t have a whole lot of control over that for a while.”
“Oh.” Her hand drops onto my stomach, then her fingers twitch. I fight a smile.
“Alice, it’s okay if you want to touch me.”
“It is?” Her smile is practically luminescent and makes me even harder. Then she reaches for my cock.
Circle. Stroke. Featherlight. More maddening than anything else. Until she squeezes. My jaw tightens. “Easy,” I bite out the word. “Or I’ll have you pinned to this bed for another round.”
Her eyes get huge. “You can do it more than once in a night?” When she looks down at my dick this time, her pink tongue traces those soft lips.
Gods save me.
“Yes, Alice. A lot more.” Her eyes get even wider. “But we really shouldn’t.”
“We shouldn’t?” Her fingers pause in their exploration. I have to fight the urge to thrust my hips to get that sweet pressure back.
“No.” The word is half a groan.
“Why?”
I grit my teeth. “You’re going to be sore enough as it is in the morning.”
She appears to think about this for a long moment.
“Well, if I’ll already be sore,” she says, her fingers tightening again, “We might as well make it worth it, right?”
What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
18
Kolya looks smug. “He took the human to his bed last night.”
A Curious Twist of Lime Page 13