Bearing Armen - Book Three

by Brenna Lyons

  “I want to be with you.”

  “But,” he prodded.

  She took a calming breath. “I have family here...my parents, brother, twin sister...and her family.”

  “I can’t stay here. You know that.”

  Tears stung her eyes. “I know.”

  “And, you won’t leave.” His voice was bitter and cold.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” she snapped. “You don’t have the option. You can’t be forced to give up—”

  He vaulted to his feet, marching to the cabin, his posture stiff. The door slammed behind him.

  Michelle wiped the tears from her cheeks, managing a weak laugh when more took their place, supplemented by the rain. She forced herself up and headed for the truck, feeling hollow. Devon wasn’t willing to find a way. It was over. There was nothing left for them.

  She stopped, patting down her pockets. Good gods, now is not the time to lose keys.

  Retrace your steps. When did you have them last?

  She’d had them in her hand when she’d approached Devon. Michelle plodded back to the spot where she’d lain, searching the grass for them as the rain became a downpour. They weren’t there.

  “I had them,” she reasoned miserably. “Where could they go?”

  Her heart stuttered. Devon! She looked at the cabin nervously, swallowing hard. She couldn’t follow him now. Not when she’d just refused him.

  Michelle slipped and slid her way to the truck, climbing inside, dripping wet, shivering, miserable in body and spirit. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  * * * *

  Devon paced the main room, fisting her keys in his hand. He wasn’t sure why he took them. This situation was hopeless, but he couldn’t let her leave until he had exhausted every possibility of making this work.

  Michelle had come here to work something out. She wanted to be his mate. If he could meet her halfway, he had to do it.

  But, she was right. He owed allegiance to his house. Even with two younger brothers, there was no chance his grandfather would release him to Armen range. He had no choice but to return.

  “It’s not fair,” he grumbled. Certainly, Lord Armen wouldn’t revel in the idea of having Michelle ripped from his side. She was his daughter; James loved her. She was also a tracker, as useful as any Warrior in that regard.

  He went still, a mad idea taking shape. “Why not?” he half-laughed. It would be an equitable trade of resources...if his lord would go for it. Devon grabbed his cell phone, his hands shaking, praying to Dobler and Tes that he could strike a deal.

  The phone rang three times before Kohl answered, and Devon’s heart seemed to stop between each ring.

  “Kaufmann,” his brother intoned.

  “I need Grandfather.”

  “Devon? I just heard. I’m sorry—”

  “Max,” he barked. “Now.” The last thing Devon wanted was anyone’s pity. At least the Lord Armen hadn’t shown him that.

  “Is this a good idea? I mean...the madness will explain away an awful lot, but—”

  “Damn it, Kohl! Get me Max, or I’ll come there and kill you with my bare hands. This is not the time to fuck with me.”

  “It’s your funeral,” he warned.

  The line went quiet for several long moments. Devon ran a hand through his hair, trying desperately to rein in his frustration before his house lord came on the line. All too soon, Max’s voice echoed over the connection.

  “Devon, I realize you are in the grips of madness. I suggest highly that you turn off your phone for the duration.”

  “Wait! Hear me out. There is a possibility that I could still claim my mate.”

  “If she’s refused you—”

  “She hasn’t. Not exactly...I mean—”

  “I can’t wait to hear this story.” Max’s voice dripped in sarcasm.

  “Michelle’s only problem with being my mate is leaving her family. She’s been raised in Armen, insulated in a Warrior household. The idea of losing them is tearing her apart inside.”

  “You expect me to release you to Armen? Are you... Well, yes. You are insane right now. That’s why you’re asking.”

  “No. I’m not asking that. I want to meet Michelle halfway.”

  “Halfway? Devon, you’re not making any sense. Maybe you should turn—”

  “She’s a tracker, Grandfather...cyber and foot. She’s the best Armen has, bar none.”

  “Interesting.” He hesitated. “Go on.”

  “I propose a trade. We’re taking away one of Armen’s best resources, a resource they raised and trained...or at least paid to have trained.”

  “If she agrees,” he noted.

  His gut twisted at that. Michelle could refuse this offer, even if he got permission to go forward. “My plan is a simple trade of resources. Six months in Kaufmann, during which we benefit from Michelle’s expertise. Six months in Armen, during which they benefit from an additional Warrior. Any children would be Kaufmann, of course, and I would have to insist that Michelle be limited to cyber tracking when she carries or we have little ones.”

  Max didn’t respond to that.

  Devon nearly growled in irritation. “She’s here, Grandfather. If you refuse me, you’ll have to call in the Lord Armen and—”

  “You’ve made this offer already?” he shouted. “Without consulting me first?”

  “Of course not! I’d given up, but she’s here, and she wants me. Any chance is better than none.”

  “You’re the oldest of your generation, Devon. A lord can’t oversee a range he’s absent from half the year.”

  “I’ll give my oath to Kohl when the time comes, if we’re still traveling back and forth and not settled in Kaufmann. He’d make the better lord, anyway. I don’t care if I’m ever lord. Would you have, if it came to a choice between your mate and being lord?”

  “No,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t.”

  The silence stretched out between them, and Devon felt his nerves buzzing uncomfortably beneath his skin. “Will you support this?” he managed. “I have to know.”

  “On Michelle’s word that she’ll track for us, I’ll accept this trade. She is excused from all tracking for three months after she has a child and cyber-tracking only for the first two years and her pregnancies, and that last portion is an order. She will accept my rule in this, just as any other Warrior would.”

  He laughed in relief. “Thank you, Grandfather. I should go now.”

  Devon vaguely heard Max saying something as he powered down, but he had far more important things to attend to. He had a woman waiting for him who wanted to be his mate...he hoped.

  A steady beat made it through his refreshed senses, and he looked at the windows, his smile fading fast. Good gods! He’d left her stranded in a rainstorm. He wasn’t even certain that she could seek shelter without the keys tucked in his pocket.

  * * * *

  Michelle wrapped the sleeping bag that had been stored behind the seat around her shoulders and shivered. If she had the keys, she’d turn on the heat. With the storm raging, she couldn’t leave, even if she had them, and her father couldn’t reach her, even if she had a cell phone to call him.

  The cabin door flew open, and Devon marched out.

  She felt the air catch in her lungs. She’d refused him again, and he was trapped in printing madness. The gods only knew what he’d do. Michelle locked the doors with numb fingers, then moved to the center of the seat, cursing herself for ignoring her father’s warning and coming here.

  He wrenched at the driver’s side door, shooting her a look of disbelief.

  Was she an idiot? He was a Krieger der Nacht. Even safety glass wouldn’t stop him, if he wanted in. And, that was assuming he didn’t have the truck keys. She sent up a prayer to Tes that he didn’t have the keys.

  Oh, so he’ll use his hands or the axe? She bit back a groan.

  “Open the door, Michelle,” he ordered.

  “Go inside, Devon. I was wrong to interfere in this and—
”

  “Open...the...door.” His voice was edged in cold fury.

  She shook her head, inching closer to the passenger-side door.

  He pulled the keys from his pocket and inserted one in the lock. Michelle dove for the other door, pushing it open as the door behind her swung away. Devon’s hands closed around her waist and dragged her back across the seat. She turned to face him, dropping the sleeping bag with a scream of fear. Rain plastered her half-dried hair back to her head in the space of a few heartbeats.

  “Shhh,” he soothed her, hugging her to his chest. “I won’t hurt you.” A weak smile curved up his mouth. “That’s what you think. Isn’t it?”

  She felt her cheeks flush.

  “I’m not that crazy. Now, will you come inside?”

  She shook her head, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks between the raindrops. “You’re right. What I want isn’t possible.”

  He growled a curse and hefted her over his shoulder, striding back to the cabin.

  Michelle tried to lever herself up against his slick skin, but the hand on her lower back stopped her. “Devon! The truck... We can’t leave it—”

  “You’ll catch pneumonia. I don’t give a damn about the truck.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, seeing the next day play out. The truck was her father’s favorite. She was never going to hear the end of destroying it this way, even if, as she suspected, Devon planned to pay Armen back for the damages.

  Devon closed the door behind them and strode into the first room off the hall, setting her next to the bed. “Now, either you will take off your clothes in the bathroom and wrap up in a quilt, or I will do the same for you here.”

  She stared at him, stunned by that pronouncement. “You trust me not to...um...” What would his reaction be to the idea that she might run from him? Better not to chance it.

  He scowled. “You have a point.” He reached for her shirt.

  Michelle sidestepped him. “Whoa. What are you doing?”

  Devon chuckled. “Then you do it. Be reasonable, Michelle. You’re freezing.”

  She hesitated, trying to unravel his strange mood.

  His hands settled on the top button of his jeans. “Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.” His voice was laced in sexual promise.

  Michelle laughed in spite of herself, peeling away layer after layer of clothing. She looked up as she kicked away her jeans and panties, her heart stuttering at the sight of Devon’s hungry eyes and rock-hard cock. She took a step back, reaching for the quilt as her thighs brushed the mattress.

  Devon nodded. “Until we talk,” he agreed.

  She wrapped the quilt around her body and let him lead her close to the fireplace, settling onto the rag rug in the center of the floor. He built up the dying fire, his body rigid in strain.

  “Do you want to be my mate?” he asked, still kneeling before the hearth.

  “Devon... I didn’t... I don’t want to—”

  He turned to her, his eyes pleading. “If your other concerns were met, would you still agree?”

  It was unfair to give him hope. “They can’t be met,” she choked out. “I was dreaming to think—”

  He dropped down on the rug, leaning toward her. It took Michelle a moment to realize that he wasn’t at the edges of violence. She took a calming breath, shivering though she was warming nicely.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Michelle.”

  No! “Yes.” She needed this. She couldn’t imagine life without it.

  His kiss was slow and thorough, his hands caressing. Michelle was suddenly uncomfortably hot in the quilt. She released it, reaching for him.

  Devon pulled back, closing the quilt around her again. “If you’re needs were met—”

  “In an instant,” she breathed. It didn’t matter what he meant. He’d decided to work this out with her, to find a way to save their relationship. Somehow, they’d manage that.

  He sighed in seeming relief. “If I met you halfway... If I promised you half of every year here in Armen range, would that be enough for you?”

  “What about you? You can’t possibly go that much time without—”

  “Both of us.”

  Her heart leapt, then sank again. “Your lord would never agree.”

  “He already has agreed to it. Now, if your father does—”

  “He would, but... How? Why? I don’t—” She wasn’t making sense and she knew it.

  Devon feathered another kiss over her lips. “Promise to track for Kaufmann when we’re there and follow Max’s orders on when you may not risk yourself, and we have the Lord Kaufmann’s vow.”

  Michelle nodded, dumbstruck. “You did this for me? You asked your lord to allow this and willingly offered to give up your home the same amount of time I did...for me?”

  “I would do anything for you. Don’t you know that? I made this bargain for you. I vowed to swear allegiance to Kohl when the time comes for a lord in my generation for you. I’ll swear allegiance to your father or any other lord of Armen when we reside here. Anything.”

  She nodded, shrugging the quilt off again.

  His gaze followed it, and a strangled groan escaped his lips. “Say you’ll be my mate.”

  “Yes...and your lord has my vow. I’ll track for him.”

  * * * *

  Yes! Devon drew Michelle to his chest and tossed the quilt out to cover the rug and floor behind her, easing her down beneath him to the cushioned surface.

  She wiggled in his arms, untangling her legs from his and hooking them over his hips. He groaned, stroking deep inside her ready body. It was perfect: hot, soft, wet, throbbing in the precursors to climax already.

  “Say you want me,” he breathed.

  “I want you. I need you.” She started moving under him, urging him on.

  “That’s why you came here tonight?”

  Michelle moaned, nodding frantically.

  “Then I’m yours.”

  There was no need for words after that. Sighs and moans played sweet counterpoint to the crackling fire. Their bodies slid against each other, mouths tasting, hands pulling them closer, deeper.

  Michelle cried out, her climax arching her body beneath his. Devon followed her gladly, closing his eyes to the strength-draining pulse of his orgasm within her. She guided his mouth to hers, gasping as his cock bucked against the walls of her sheath, seeking more of its mate.

  My mate. That single phrase brought clarity and calm to his chaotic mind. He buried his face in her damp hair, drinking in the smells of mountain rain and their mixed musk. He was exhausted in body and mind, sated, surrendering to the lure of peace.

  Michelle pulled the quilt around them, murmuring an invitation to sleep.

  The darkness called, closing around their joined bodies until his entire world was Michelle.

  Chapter Seventeen

  James looked at the ringing phone in irritation, dropping his pen and scooping the receiver to his shoulder. It seemed it was a day for interruptions, and though he didn’t mind Michelle, the rest he could have done without.

  “Armen,” he growled.

  “James, you need to get to Devon,” Max stated as if his grandson was the most urgent matter on the agenda.

  While the idea of any Warrior facing the madness gave him chills, it was his own demon to best and interfering wouldn’t help Devon. “You know I can’t—”

  “He has a plan to ease your daughter’s reservations about mating. It’s a good plan, and I’ve agreed to it, but he’s riding the edges. If she refuses him again, I can’t vouch for his control.”

  “What plan—”

  “Later! He means to present it to her immediately.”

  James looked at the pouring rain pelting the windows, recalling the advance of the weather front from memory. “The weather will stop him temporarily. I don’t think he’s crazy enough to drive in—”

  “He’s not the one traveling, James. Unless Devon is hallucinating, your daughter is with him.”

&nb
sp; His heart seemed to stop beating at that pronouncement. Michelle would ignore his warnings. There was no question about it. If she wanted Devon, she’d find him. It was what she did.

  “James! I said Michelle is with him. I tried to tell him to call you in and wait, but he shut down. James, are you there?”

  “On my way out the door,” he managed in a thick voice. He dropped the phone onto its base and stormed out into the foyer, shouting for Tyler.

  His son appeared at the top of the stairs. “Here.”

  “Is Michelle in her room?”

  “She left more than an hour ago in the half-ton. Let me guess. She didn’t have permission to take your—”

  James spat a series of curses. The half-ton would have been his first choice to reach the cabin in this weather.

  “Problem?” his son asked nervously.

  “Pull out Tim’s mudder. We have to reach Devon.”

  His son stared at him in shock.

  “And Michelle,” he added with a note of warning. Gods help him if he’s gone too far.

  Tyler scrambled past him, already lit up for battle.

  * * * *

  “Damn this!” Tyler cursed, pulling himself up the washed-out slope.

  James hauled him the last body length, scowling at the SUV in the gulch. “We won’t be getting that out without the winch on the half-ton. We’ll have to walk from here.”

  “At least we’re close and the rain has stopped.”

  He nodded, fighting the tension in his muscles. Yes, they were almost there, but the usual forty-minute trip had taken them three hours of sliding along treacherous mountain trails in almost zero-visibility conditions.

  It was only a few hundred yards further, and James wasn’t about to waste another second. He fought his way up the slope, his heart hammering against his ribs.

  The truck came into view first, both doors thrown wide and the sleeping bag dragged half into a mud puddle. He sprinted to it, pulling the keys from the door in dismay. Couldn’t Michelle keep a key safe just once in her life? It had been too easy for Devon.

  “Gods, no,” Tyler breathed.