Bearing Secrets (High House Ursa Book 1)

by Riley Storm

  “I don’t think I’d go that far. But…I don’t know. It’s like I guess I don’t like the idea of never seeing him again.”

  Within the next five seconds, both the doorbell and her phone rang. Loren got up to answer it while Natalia glanced at her screen. One missed phone call from Kirell. There was also a text. Just one, saying that he was going to give her some time, but to please call him when she was ready.

  “Fuck you,” she muttered.

  “Excuse me?” Loren paused in the archway to the living room from the front hall.

  “Nothing,” she said, sitting up and helping spread out the various dishes her friend had ordered. “I was talking to myself.”

  And to Kirell. How dare he be polite and understanding right now?

  It bothered her that he was being rational and decent. He was supposed to be a dick about it all, to help enable her own anger. How was she supposed to be mad at him when he was acting like he actually cared about her? That certainly made things more difficult.

  “Are you going to call him?” Loren asked through a mouthful of noodles.

  “What?” She blinked, returning to the present.

  “Kirell. You’re fidgeting with your phone. You want to call him.”

  “Not right now,” she said sourly, tossing the phone to the side and serving herself some food.

  There was still time. The confirmation ceremony was tomorrow afternoon. She didn’t need to go back to him tonight. Let him stew about it and she’d see if there were any more things she should know about first. Then when she called him in the morning, he could let her know before they continued.

  She tried to ignore the way her mind was thinking, acting like it was a foregone conclusion she was going to go back to him. Things were still up in the air, she told herself. She was undecided.

  “Nat, you like this guy, don’t you?” Loren had put her food down.

  “Shit. I think I might? I don’t know. But Lore, he lied. About something serious.”

  “Like what?”

  Natalia shook her head. “I’m sorry, I can’t. That would break his trust. I don’t want to be petty and reveal stuff just because he didn’t tell me the whole truth.”

  “I understand.” Loren smiled and raised her wine glass in Natalia’s direction. “That’s why you’re such a good friend. You’re loyal, Nat, sometimes to a fault. I love you for it. But did he lie to you, or just not tell you everything? There’s a big difference.”

  She knew the answer to the question, but Natalia didn’t want to say it. Saying it would give it legitimacy, and she still wanted to be angry for a bit.

  “So, when are you going to go back to him?”

  “What? Who said I’m going to go back?”

  Loren just looked at her.

  “I haven’t made that decision yet. I’m crashing here tonight, I’ll help you get ready in the morning. First day of work, how exciting.”

  Her best friend gave her one last knowing look before she let the conversation swing onto other topics, including her first day at the job tomorrow. They talked about her nerves, what she would wear, and all manner of things in between.

  It worked as a perfect distraction until Natalia lay down to sleep a few hours later and all the thoughts of Kirell came bubbling back to the surface.

  Dammit. Get out of my head! Why can’t I stop thinking about you?

  26

  Yawning, he stood up, rubbing at his eyes. They were starting to throb after so many hours in front of the television screens.

  From late the night before, until an hour or so before noon, he’d spent all but four hours reviewing video footage of the day of the uprising.

  We really need to come up with a better name for the incident. Something shorter.

  “You’re still at it?” Krave asked as he came and sat down at the console next to him.

  “Yes.”

  They were in the security control room of Ursidae Manor. A bank of screens occupied the wall in front of them, with various controls spread out below that. From here, Kirell could access, view and manipulate the footage from any of the dozens of security cameras that monitored the activities around the Manor.

  “Anything yet?”

  Kirell shook his head. “Not yet. So far, everyone checks out.”

  “That bothers you?”

  Kirell looked at Krave, surprised the man had picked up on that. “Yes.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it a good thing if our men are loyal like they say they are?”

  “You are correct. I’m not disappointed that they are not disloyal. I’m growing irritated because I’ve been here for probably twelve hours checking footage of everything, and I’ve yet to find any sign of traitors trying to cover their tracks.”

  Krave’s face didn’t change. “How is that a bad thing?”

  “Because we know that we didn’t get them all, that some of them escaped our justice. I want to find them. The sooner we do, the better for everyone involved.”

  “Right.” Krave nodded seriously, turning to his screens. “Who should I start with?”

  “Take one of the men assigned to Klaue. I was just about to start with them.” He pushed over a clipboard with the names of who had been assigned to whom.

  They picked names, then began pulling up footage for the cameras nearest to the quarters of each man, and then fast-forwarding until they saw them come or go last. It was a laborious process, because they had to switch from camera to camera to track each man’s movements, but each new camera had to have the footage pulled; this meant selecting the camera, inputting the date and time, and then watching that until their person of interest moved to the next camera.

  Repeat.

  It had worn Kirell’s nerves down to near nothing, but he still had hope. The three men they were checking along with Klaue were on the top of his most suspicious list. All of them seemed slightly off, nothing that he could point out to directly of course, it was just a gut feeling, an instinct, but it was all he had to go off of.

  “He’s clear,” Krave announced half an hour later.

  Not long after that, Kirell was forced to announce the same. That only left Klaue for him to vet for loyalty. He felt almost dirty doing so; Klaue was one of the longest-serving soldiers in the House, and in truth the position of Captain should probably have been offered to him over Kirell. There was a reason behind Kirell’s selection but he didn’t know what it was. Only the Queen could justify her choice, and he wasn’t about to question her decision.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, watching the movement on the camera.

  “Got something?” Krave looked over.

  “There was a huge brawl outside of Korve’s quarters,” he said, referring to the late Knight and heir to the House. “After they got the King, they went after him, you remember?”

  “I do. I got there too late,” Krave said angrily. “But it was a warzone in there. He didn’t go down easily.”

  Kirell agreed. The Knight had fought side by side with the Champion, the best fighter in the House, and both had taken down numerous enemies before they’d been slain themselves.

  “It was a close fight. A few more loyal men could have changed the tide,” he said. “Especially if one of them was Klaue.”

  “Why wasn’t he there?” Krave leaned in closer.

  “Because someone sent him in a different direction. Look.” He pointed to the screen as Klaue and two others raced down one hallway. He lined up the cameras to have it play constantly. Just before they reached the last corner, someone stepped out of a dead zone, only the lower half of their legs visible as they said or did something.

  Klaue and the two loyalists with him came to a halt, this visible from another angle. After a short conversation, no more than ten seconds, they took off… In a different direction.

  “This doesn’t prove anything,” Krave said calmly. “Where do they go next?”

  Together they followed the cameras, working well as a team, each m
an anticipating what camera would be next and flicking back and forth between them as they called them up, moving much faster than any one person alone. They tracked the trio, and saw them pile into another fight, saving some of the Queen’s guards, before moving on.

  “Everyone they fight is a confirmed or suspected traitor,” Krave said.

  “So why didn’t they go to the Knight’s quarters? Who stopped them?” Kirell’s brain was working full-force now, his ire raised. The entire day could have turned out differently if this mystery person hadn’t stopped the trio from racing to the side of their comrades.

  While they pulled up more cameras, Kirell tugged his phone from a pocket, looking at the screen, only to be disappointed yet again. All morning he’d waited to hear from Natalia in case she called him or texted him—any sort of communication. But so far, radio silence.

  Not for the first time, he unlocked his phone and started writing a message to her. Something, anything to get her to respond, to let him know she would be coming back.

  Also not for the first time, he deleted it before sending. The last thing Kirell wanted to do was be pushy. He’d left her a message the previous night after calling, and now the ball was in her court. He had to give her some space.

  Time is running out, though. She’s cutting it awfully close.

  It bothered him that he so obviously was beginning to care for her. What had begun as a well-planned business arrangement was now something completely different. What made it even worse, was that he knew she couldn’t stay with him. Their needs had lined up so closely to what the other could provide, that it should have been easy to just use each other and then be done with it.

  You should cut it off as soon as the ceremony is over. Send her back to her world, and never contact her again. Otherwise, things are going to get complicated when a new Hunter is appointed and he realizes that you two aren’t mated.

  The Hunter was a Title Holder, like he was a Captain, but they were different.

  The Hunter of each House wielded a magical artifact that gave them glimpses of…something. Nobody who wasn’t a hunter could quite understand it, but the artifact allowed them to see bits and pieces of a shifters future as it related to their mate. Sometimes it was a face, other times a premonition that a shifter should be somewhere at a certain time.

  Once a new one was appointed, they would be able to see that Natalia wasn’t his mate, and the entire sham would be exposed. If she was gone, however, then it wouldn’t be an issue. Hopefully.

  Eventually, the Hunter would point him toward his real mate; that would be awkward, but Kirell had thought it through already. He would play it off as having thought she was his mate, but with no Hunter around to confirm, he could claim to have made a mistake. There would be some grumbling, but by then it would be too late.

  Hopefully.

  “Kirell.”

  Krave’s whispered call snatched his attention away from Natalia, returning it to the screens in front of him. Krave had run the cameras backward until he found an image of the person who had disappeared into the blank zone.

  “No.”

  “I cross-checked it while you were daydreaming. He’s the only one to go there. He never comes out, because I’d wager he took the passages, hoping to hide his presence. If I had to guess, I’d say he had hoped to never even be seen on camera. That first one caught their legs by accident, or we’d never have known there was a person there.”

  “Check the cameras near the King’s quarters,” Kirell said, tired.

  “Why those?”

  “Because that’s where they came out and joined up with me to help save the Queen.”

  Krave glanced at him but did as he said. Sure enough, a few minutes later a side panel opened and their culprit emerged to stand alongside Kirell on the screen.

  “There has to be another reason for this,” he said dully, standing. “I refuse to believe it.”

  He pressed a few buttons that started burning the video onto a thumbdrive.

  “Kirell, the footage is clear.”

  “There’s another explanation!” he snarled, snatching the drive and storming from the room.

  There had to be.

  27

  His journey through the hallways passed by in a strange blur. Afterward he would try and think back to it, but his brain wasn’t able to recall any of the details. Not the route he’d passed or any of the people he’d encountered. It was like it had shut off in an attempt to insulate him from the pain of the betrayal.

  It only went to show that his brain had more sense than the rest of him.

  Pounding his fist on the door, he waited until the owner opened it. The fact that they were in their quarters was random, but again that didn’t clue in to Kirell. Not until much later.

  “Why?” he asked, before stepping inside without warning. “That’s what I don’t understand. Why?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Kedd asked, sounding bewildered.

  Kirell plugged the thumb drive into the side of the tv and worked the controls until it started to play the video file.

  “That’s you,” he said, numb. “I don’t get it. What were you doing, Kedd? It looks bad.”

  It looked worse than bad. It looked incriminating beyond belief. Kirell desperately wanted it to be untrue, and perhaps that’s why he was willing to give his longtime friend the benefit of the doubt.

  “You need to tell me what was going on, Kedd.” He sighed, watching the video yet again. “Because if other people see this, you know the rumors are going to start flying, and people are going to call you a traitor.”

  The word wasn’t being thrown around lightly these days, but Kirell knew that many were upset the apparent ringleaders of the attempted coup all died during the attempt, without answering questions and naming any other hidden comrades. If they got a whiff that Kedd was involved, he’d be in for a world of pain.

  “Just tell me, Kedd. I can help.”

  There was still no answer forthcoming. Kirell’s own frustration was starting to boil over into outright anger, and he whirled on his friend to demand he answer the question.

  Instead of Kedd standing calmly and ready to explain, though, a giant straw-colored bear was preparing to charge at him.

  “You sonofabitch!” he shouted, diving to the side as Kedd darted forward, massive paws swiping at him. His reflexes saved the day, but the television and stand disintegrated under the blow, a reminder of what would happen if the beast made contact with him in his human form.

  Kirell knew now that there was no explanation. Kedd, a friend since his younger years, had betrayed House Ursa.

  “Why?” he shouted, diving to the side to avoid another attack as the marauding bear charged through couches, chairs and side tables to try and get at him.

  He was stalling for time, trying to figure out a way to buy himself the seven seconds or so he would need to complete his own change; trying to do so without delaying Kedd would be a death sentence.

  It wouldn’t be long before the noise brought half the house down on them, but Kirell was incensed by this point. Nobody else was going to deal with this. Kedd had been his friend, and now he’d tried to kill him to cover up the evidence. Kedd didn’t know Krave had seen it as well. It wouldn’t matter one way or another now; Kedd was as good as dead.

  It all came down to who would do it.

  “Like hell I’m going to let you murder another loyalist,” he snarled. “You could have saved him, Kedd! Korve would still be alive. They all would.”

  If Klaue and his men had gotten to the Knight’s quarters in time, the entire day would have followed a different path. The House wouldn’t be nearly in shambles, the Queen would have stepped aside, and a good man would be in charge of the House. Nobody would have questioned that legitimacy.

  Instead, they were nearly ruined, and one of the prime architects of that course was trapped in the room with him.

  More accurately, I’m trapped with him.

  H
e flung himself out of the way yet again, but his luck was running out. Sooner or later Kedd would connect, and that would be it for one Kirell Ursa.

  The dive roll took him square into the side of the bed. He hit the footboard and stood, gripping one of the metal poles that formed the canopy. As he felt the cool steel, he had a sudden idea. Wrenching his arm, he snapped the upright pole off, yanking it from the canopy.

  Hefting it in his palm, he judged the weight, aimed, and hurled it at Kedd as the shifter slowed to turn from his previous charge. The makeshift spear sunk deep into his flank, but it didn’t slow the enraged shifter.

  Kirell hadn’t stopped there, though. He pulled the frame apart as fast as he could and flung piece after piece at Kedd, turning him into a porcupine. Eventually, the bear stopped to deal with the five lengths of metal protruding from his side, giving Kirell the time he needed.

  With a satisfied growl, he forced the change on his own body. Normally, he didn’t look forward to the pain that came as his body awkwardly reshaped itself, breaking bones and realigning joints, but this time he relished it, craved it. Because with it came the power that only a shifter possessed.

  The bears of House Ursa were unlike anything seen on the earth. They were leaner than their wild cousins, packed with more muscle, and nearly one and a half times larger as well. They were killing machines, built for the war in which they’d earned their right to exist over fifteen hundred years earlier.

  Kirell bellowed with rage as he completed the transformation, charging at Kedd just as the last pole came free from his body. The two bears collided with bone-jarring force, and the entire wing of the house jumped when they slammed into the concrete-reinforced wall.

  More furniture shattered as Kedd recovered and shoved him backward. Kirell crashed through a desk and flattened a wardrobe against the wall, the solid wood construction simply disintegrating into tiny pieces, many of which embedded themselves in his skin.

  He ducked a swiping paw, slicing upward with his own as he recovered, the six-inch claws cutting deep into Kedd’s skin, drawing blood. He felt the warm liquid flow down his paw, matting the fur with its stickiness.