by Brenna Lyons
James’s mind spun. They’d taken Devon’s sacred weapon at his request. That was a bad sign in a Warrior facing the madness, because it marked his wish to die. If a beast met him unarmed, the Warrior would die.
Still, there were many other weapons at the cabin, starting with the Warrior himself. Michelle was human; Devon didn’t need weapons to kill her.
He headed to the cabin on unsteady legs, praying the young Warrior hadn’t gone too far. In the madness, his responses would be impossible to anticipate. Even if he hadn’t killed her—or seriously injured her, he might have forced himself on her. That image proved too much for him. He couldn’t allow it to form fully or he’d howl out his own madness.
James eased the cabin door open, stopping Tyler as he surged toward the couple on the floor. Michelle had to come first. Until they knew for certain, they had to assume that Devon would snap and kill her. That meant the utmost caution.
He motioned his son to Michelle, then gave him hand commands to wait for his move. They separated, moving to opposite sides of the quilt.
James sank to one knee, his eyes locking on a deep bruise marring Michelle’s upper arm. He noted the tear tracks, much more enflamed than they’d been when he saw her that afternoon. The smell of sex assaulted him, and Blutjagd lit his fury like a bonfire.
* * * *
Devon opened his eyes in shock, reaching for the weapon that wasn’t at his side. Reality hit him in a rush. He’d surrendered his weapon to Lord Armen. Now, he was unarmed at night with his mate to protect and something malevolent hovering over them. He had only an instant of realization that the danger wasn’t a beast before there was a sacred weapon at his throat.
“Don’t move,” the Lord Armen ordered.
A second Warrior dragged Michelle from the quilt just as she started to stir, shushing her cry of fear and wrapping a leather coat around her. “It’s okay,” Tyler soothed her. “You’re safe.”
“I was always safe,” she countered. “Let me go.”
Devon sighed in relief at that, counting the seconds until James released him. The moment didn’t come.
“Take Michelle to the back bedroom,” the lord managed through clenched teeth.
“I’m sane,” Devon grumbled. “We have sealed. Michelle is—”
“Sane?” James thundered. “You hurt her. What did you do? What rules of sanction did you break? As your judge, I demand to know.”
“What? No. I never—”
Michelle shook her younger brother off, grasping at the jacket and shooting him a look of warning. In the faint firelight, the bruises on her arms stood out in stark contrast to her creamy skin.
“Oh, gods help me,” he whispered. “I did.” It must have been the moment he first touched her. I didn’t touch her; I grabbed her. Hard. How hard had he grabbed her? Had she winced? How could he not have realized he was harming her?
Devon swallowed a tight knot of emotion. Michelle was his mate, and he’d injured her. The Lord Armen could kill him for this. By all rights, he should kill Devon for it.
She touched the bruises, shaking her head. “No. I surprised him. It was before—”
“He hurt you,” her father growled.
“If you kill him, you’ll hurt me.”
James hesitated, meeting her eyes. “Princess, you cannot take this chance. He lacks control. If a dog bites once, it will bite again.”
Devon forced back his anger at being called a dog. He was no better than one. How could he do this to her?
Tears rolled down her face. “Are you sane?”
The Lord Armen sputtered for a moment. “What? Of course, I’m sane.”
“Are you? The bruises surprised you, and you’re going to kill over them without even asking me what happened. Are you sane? Devon has never touched me in anger. Never.”
“What about the truck?” he challenged.
Devon ground his teeth at the memory of dragging her out of the vehicle. She’d screamed, flailed, turned to him, wide-eyed. She’d been shaking in his arms, terrified of him. Had he bruised her then? No. He’d had her by the waist then, not the arms. It had to be when he first reached her.
No wonder, she was shaking. I’d hurt her once. Of course, she assumed I’d hurt her again.
“I didn’t want to hurt Devon, so I refused to come inside,” she explained. “It wasn’t safe out there, and he knew it. He couldn’t take the chance of me driving off into the storm...or being injured or taking ill. So, he brought me inside. You thanked him once for doing something similar, as I recall. You thanked him for protecting me. This was no different.”
He looked to the bruises, his unspoken disagreement as clear as if he’d shouted it. This was different, and they all knew it. “Michelle, please go with Tyler.”
“I love him, and Devon loves me. He’s sane. I cannot let you do this, Dad. He’s my husband. I won’t let you take him from me.”
“You’d really go off to Kaufmann with a potentially dangerous—”
“The six months in Armen,” she pleaded. “To put your mind at ease, we’ll take it now. His lord will agree, considering the circumstances. Give us that long.” Her eyes brimmed with new tears, and she hugged herself tightly.
“What? What six months?”
She took a deep breath. “Devon made a deal with his house lord.”
“Max mentioned it, but he didn’t give me details.”
“We’ll spend six months of every year in Armen and six months in Kaufmann. Devon will swear allegiance to the Lord Armen and act as one of our Warriors while in our range. I’ll track for Kaufmann when we’re there, though they have limitations for me, because I’m a Warrior wife.”
She pulled the jacket closer around her chest. “If we take our time in Armen first, you’ll see that Devon is sane. Please... Please, promise me that time.”
Devon’s heart ached. He’d hurt her, but Michelle was pleading for his life. When this was over... If he survived to hold her again... There was no vow he could make that was worthy of this show of trust.
“On conditions,” her father bargained.
“Anything,” Devon vowed. Anything for Michelle.
“Anything within reason,” she countered, her eyes flashing in challenge.
“You will swear your allegiance tonight,” James demanded.
“Absolutely,” Devon agreed.
“And the rest?” Michelle asked.
“You will not plant a child in her until the six months are up and I am convinced you’re sane. I will not allow you to leave my daughter alone with a child that way, especially not the child of an unstable Warrior.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Devon assured him.
“If you ever bruise her again, I will kill you where you stand.”
“If I ever come close to it, I’ll hand you my blade to do it.”
James pulled his weapon away from Devon’s throat, rising to his feet. “Kneel and vow your allegiance...now.”
“He’s naked,” Michelle protested.
“It’s all right,” Devon soothed her. He deserved less than they were giving him. He wouldn’t complain about so trivial a thing.
“It’s not all right!”
He pushed the quilt away and knelt before the Lord Armen. He’d stand nude before the Council of Lords and every house, as long as he had Michelle. She was all that mattered in his life.
Devon cleared his throat. “My blade is yours. My duty is at your whim. I stand as a Warrior of Armen, yours to order, My Lord.”
“That wasn’t necessary,” she fumed.
James ignored her. “You return with us to the manor tomorrow. You will pay for the repairs to the truck.”
“That was my fault,” Michelle argued.
Devon motioned her to silence. “Agreed.” Max would have a fit, but it was only right that he pay for his mistakes...all of his mistakes.
The Lord Armen seemed to consider something. He looked past Devon to his children. “You will have your blade when the br
uises heal.”
“Dad, you can’t—”
“After that, you’ll hunt like any Warrior of Armen. You’ll check in until I release you from that burden, and Michelle will not be permitted to accompany you on trail until I approve it.”
“Understood,” Devon replied. “I am at your whim.” Gods help me, I am agreeing to walk back into Armen manor as a dishonored Warrior, stripped of my blade like a trainee. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.
“Tyler and I will take blows for every bruise on my daughter’s body.”
No doubt for imagined bruises as well. “Of course.” Anything for Michelle. Anything.
“Very well. Tyler and I will be in the back bedroom, if you need us, Michelle.”
“I won’t,” she snapped.
“She won’t,” Devon echoed, but it would be a long, hard road of being treated like a First Night pup until he proved that.
* * * *
Michelle glared at her brother as they closed the door to the bedroom. Devon bowed his head, and she bit back a sob.
“They had no right,” she apologized.
“They had every right to do that and much more.” He turned to her, touching one of the bruises with a wince. “I will never—”
“They aren’t as bad as they look,” she assured him. “I just have a pale complexion.”
Devon kissed the spot, then moved to the other. He peeled the jacket away, scanning her body as if searching for more injuries. “He should have killed me for this,” he whispered.
“No. That was before. You weren’t responsible—”
“It’s no excuse. A Warrior who can’t control—”
“Please, don’t. You didn’t mean to. I know you didn’t.”
“I will never harm you again. You have my vow on that.”
She pressed her lips to his, sighing as he responded.
Devon settled his hands in her hair, his cock hardening. “I love you.”
“You know it will take a few weeks for the bruises to disappear.”
His eyes filled with pain.
She spoke before he could. “You’ll need a duty to perform until then.”
“Your father will assign me duties that don’t require—”
Michelle smiled, and he stopped speaking, smiling in return as her meaning became clear to him.
“You have a duty in mind?”
“One I trust you will enjoy. One that will prove your gentle touch.”
Chapter Eighteen
March 15, 2004
Devon pushed through the doors into Armen manor. He smiled at the sight of Michelle hurtling down the staircase toward him, catching her and swinging her in his arms. She brought her mouth down on his, and the sweet joy of relief settled in his soul. There was nothing like holding her after a long track.
“Ahem,” James interrupted them.
Michelle broke away, sighing. “I can’t wait to get to Kaufmann,” she grumbled.
Devon set her on her feet, at a loss to soothe her when he agreed completely with her.
Her father winced at her comment, looking hurt by her words. He offered his hand to Devon. “Good hunt.”
Though he’d like to refuse, Michelle’s words burned in his mind. It was rude to turn down a handshake. He clasped the offered hand. “Thanks,” he replied uneasily.
It had been a long five and a half months. He’d been required to check in for the first two, and Michelle’s freedom to follow him on trail still seemed at the lord’s whim. It was maddening, being in a place where he wasn’t trusted, where every moment with his mate was watched intently.
More than once, Michelle had promised not to return to Armen, but Devon had refused to accept that. He wouldn’t cause a rift between Michelle and her family if he could avoid it, no matter the cost to him. He’d given his word on that, and he wasn’t taking the easy road now.
“If you’re done with my husband,” she snapped.
Devon hugged her. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Someday...” But, what could he promise? That James would accept him? That was unlikely. That they’d be free to leave Armen? That would only infuriate the Lord Armen.
Michelle shot her father a look that promised retribution. “You’re never going to say it, are you? You’re never going to admit you were wrong.”
“Princess—”
“Don’t Princess me.” She turned without giving him a chance to answer and stalked back up the stairs.
Devon sighed, reining in his frustration. His homecoming was supposed to be a happy time, but James’s reactions put the damper on it, as usual.
Their future together depended on this six months in Armen. Though his blood burned to stop the force causing his mate pain, any action or cross words might see Devon dead. They’d come too far and suffered too much to risk that now. Their best option... Their only option was putting up with it until they were free to return to Kaufmann.
“If I’m free to go, my Lord,” he managed through clenched teeth.
“You’re not free to go. Come with me.”
Devon looked up the stairs, aching to hold Michelle. His discomfort meant nothing to Lord Armen. It never had. “As you wish.”
They went to the office, and James took a seat behind the desk. Devon stood, needing a way to focus his raw nerves.
“Sit down,” James ordered.
“If you don’t mind—”
“I do mind.”
Everything about me. Every move I make.
Devon forced his Blutjagd back and took a seat. More than ever, he was considering taking Michelle up on her offer to stay in Kaufmann permanently.
James stared at him, watching for something he couldn’t comprehend. “The six months are nearly over,” he commented coolly.
“Yes. They are.”
“You’re probably as anxious to get to Kaufmann as Michelle is.” There was a bite of anger to his words.
“I miss my family, and I’ve promised to show Michelle Europe. She wants to ski in Czechoslovakia.” He smiled at that, the plans they’d made in bed, the one place no one followed them. “Beautiful snow in the Czech Republic.”
“And to get away from me.”
Devon didn’t answer that.
“You don’t like me much, do you?”
“A Warrior doesn’t have to like his lord. He just has to obey.”
“Do you like your Lord Kaufmann?”
“Of course. Max is my grandfather, though he’s one hell of a taskmaster.” There would be hell to pay when he returned, trials for his lack of control and misdeeds, but once they got past that, Devon knew it would be business as usual in Kaufmann. Nothing like it is here.
“You still intend to come back to Armen in six months?”
“I gave Michelle my word that I would. As long as she wishes to return to Armen, we’ll be coming back to Armen, and I will be acting as a Warrior of Armen when we do.” Perhaps six months away from her sister and mother...and her nephew would convince Michelle that she really didn’t want to leave for good.
“You always keep your word,” he noted.
The silence stretched between them.
“You have nothing to say to me?”
Devon bit back a laugh at the irony of that question. “Are you inviting me to speak my mind? I’ll be honest. I have no urge to lose my life so close to the end of my trial.”
James seemed shocked into silence. “That’s what you think this is?”
“A test. A punishment.” He shrugged. “I don’t deny your right to it. After what I did, I imagine vengeance will be long coming...if it ever does.”
Despite all the blows James had dealt him in training, the long tracks Devon had taken on, his unceasing acceptance of every humiliation and injury... Despite everything that had been heaped on him in the last five and a half months, there had always been an edge of mistrust that the lord never lost. Even when his son and nephews had accepted Devon, their wives had stopped avoiding him, and the children flocked to him, Jam
es had never softened in the least.
Michelle is his child. If it were my daughter injured... No, he couldn’t think of that. If it was his child, he’d never forgive the man in question, and he couldn’t believe there was no hope of making peace.
“You think I’d kill you?” James asked, seemingly horrified.
“If I was unstable? Yes. You’d have to...and I’d welcome it. When I saw the bruises, some part of me wished you would kill me, because death would have been easier than knowing I’d hurt her, than seeing the proof of it every day for almost two weeks.”
“Go on. I want to hear this.”
Devon stared at the fireplace, searching for the words. “I can’t remember it...not clearly, anyway. I try, endlessly some days. It’s maddening to have half memories of an instant in time that is so vital.”
He turned to James, hoping that he’d said enough, but the expression on the lord’s face demanded more. Devon sighed and continued.
“I remember turning and seeing Michelle standing there. I needed to hold her. I needed to feel her in my arms and know she was real and not some hallucination the madness had conjured up for me. I was desperate for every sensory input I had that would prove her a solid reality.
“I didn’t know I’d hurt her. I swear I didn’t. I didn’t mean to, not that it excuses me. I only meant to hold her. I had to ask Michelle, to be certain that moment was the one I hurt her. I suppose I knew it was when I saw the bruises, but... How could I not know I hurt her?”
The lord stared at him for a long moment, seemingly deep in thought. “And you put up with all of this, because you thought I’d kill you?”
“I’m no coward, Lord Armen. I don’t want to die, but I put up with this...” He waved his hand in frustration. “Because the only way we will ever have peace between us is when I prove my self-control. I’m starting to think that will never happen, and it has to happen.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Devon growled a curse.
“Tell me why,” he barked.
“Michelle refused to be my mate until I made the agreement with Max. The agreement was my idea, but... Never mind that. She refused to lose her family for me, but she didn’t want to lose me, either. She could have let me break printing, but she didn’t. She begged me to allow her all of the people she loved, and I did that. I sacrificed my right to be Lord Kaufmann. I agreed to lose my family, just as she does, for half of every year...for her. All for Michelle. I would do anything for Michelle.
