Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3)

by Lauren Lively

  I got the feeling that there was more to that story than he was letting on – a lot more. But he didn't seem inclined to talk about it and I wasn't going to press him. At least, not in front of Manyr. Though we all were supposedly on the same side in this fight, I didn't know them and I didn't quite yet trust them.

  We walked along with Manyr as she pointed out the various buildings in camp and told us what their purpose was. Along the way, she introduced us to a good number of people – all of whom seemed excited to meet Byr and me. Way too excited. It was strange and uncomfortable – to say the least.

  The last stop on our tour was a small building behind their main planning and operations center. Manyr said the building served as their main social hub. To me, it looked like a rundown old bar – the sort of place I would expect to see in the marketplace out on the fringes where Byr was from.

  We stepped inside and I was immediately overwhelmed by an aroma that was beyond amazing. It made my mouth water and my stomach grumble – reminding me that it had been a little while since we'd last eaten.

  “Are the two of you hungry?” Manyr asked.

  Byr and I shared a quick look. “Starving,” I said.

  Manyr clapped her hands together. “Excellent,” she said. “So am I. Let's have some lunch.”

  The interior of the place looked a lot nicer than I'd expected judging by the outside of the building. The floor was a polished wood, the tables – though nicked and scratched – were clean and still in good shape.

  A long bar made out of a dark stone, ran almost the length of one side of the room. Booths line the walls and tables filled the middle of the room. The interior was painted in rich, green colors that made the room feel a little smaller and more intimate. The whole place was clean and well maintained. And with music playing while people carried on animated conversations, it had a pleasant, lively atmosphere.

  She guided us to a booth near the rear of the building – and I was conscious of all the eyes on us as we passed through the room. If Byr noticed, he gave no indication. We took a seat and a moment later, a young woman bustled over to our table, setting three mugs of a dark, brown liquid down. She gave us all a smile.

  “Three plates, Manyr?” she asked.

  Her eyes lingered on Byr as she spoke and I couldn't help but feel a small spike of jealousy lance through my heart. He looked up at her and smiled, but seemed to be missing the flirtatious gleam in her eyes. The girl was about my age, had milky white skin, and long, red hair shot through with streaks of black. She was pretty – I couldn't deny it.

  “Yes, please, Dojar,” she said.

  “I'll bring them out shortly.”

  With one last lingering look at Byr, the girl – Dojar – turned and walked away from the table. And from where I was sitting, she put a little extra swish in her hips – probably for Byr's sake. But he seemed to be blissfully clueless about it. Instead, he turned and looked at me and all I could see in his eyes were his feelings for me.

  I wanted to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him on the spot.

  “Looks like you've got a fan,” Manyr said with a grin.

  Byr shrugged. “Well, I'm afraid that I'm already taken.”

  “I can see that,” Manyr replied.

  I wasn't sure, but I thought I detected a hint of jealousy in Manyr's eyes when she looked from Byr to me. He was a very handsome man, there was no question. It didn't surprise me that he drew the eye of women all around. But the fact that he only seemed to have eyes for me – it made my heart do flip-flops in my chest.

  Beneath the table, I took his hand and gave it a ferocious squeeze.

  “Well, she's surely not the only woman you're going to have to fight off, I'm sure,” Manyr laughed.

  Byr smiled, a little self-conscious. “Won't be much of a fight, I'm afraid.”

  Manyr laughed as she looked at me and I could have sworn I saw the challenge in her eyes. Was she really trying to challenge me for Byr's attention and affections? Or was I simply being a paranoid, silly and insecure little girl jumping at shadows that weren't there?

  “Anyway,” Manyr said. “Like I mentioned before, you two better get used to the attention because you're almost royalty around here.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I was hoping you'd explain that.”

  Manyr shrugged. “You are the symbols of our resistance,” she said. “You embody our reasons for fighting this fight.”

  I looked at Byr, still not understanding. I knew that Yurat had given us a sales pitch that touched on that theme the night before, but everything that had happened had my mind spinning and I hadn't really retained it all. Judging by the look on Byr's face, he was struggling to recall that particulars as well.

  “I'm not sure how we are symbols of your resistance,” I finally said.

  “What we are striving for here is true equality in Unduth,” Manyr said. “A world without rigid class structures. A world where upper-class and lower-class don't exist – where we're truly free to do and be whatever we want. A world were a girl from a rich and powerful family can fall in love with a boy from the fringes – and not have that seen as a bad or abhorrent thing. We are fighting to build a world where anybody can start from nothing and really become somebody. We want a world where people are not only able to, but encouraged to build a better life for themselves.”

  I was still holding on to Byr's hand and looked over at him. What she was saying really resonated with me. It struck a powerful chord. And I could see in his eyes that it had the same effect on him as well. I gave him a small smile that he returned.

  But even still – I forced myself to remain somewhat skeptical.

  “You certainly talk a good game,” I said.

  Manyr's smile was rueful. “You're right to be cautious, of course,” she said. “But ask yourself this – if we meant to do you harm, or were agents of the Ministry, why would we have gone to such effort to rescue you? Why would we have bombed the Ministry building to pull you out of there?”

  They were good questions and admittedly, I did not have the answers to them. It was just that so much had happened, I didn't know who to trust.

  “Perhaps you were trying to gain our trust,” Byr said. “Staging a raid and supposedly saving us could go a long way to doing that. To making us believe that you are on our side.”

  Manyr shrugged. “It's a fair point,” she said. “But to what end? What would be our purpose in such a deception?”

  I took a sip of the drink Dojar had brought for us and lamented the fact that it wasn't the delicious Optorion wine I'd gotten used to. Byr also took a drink and I could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't have an answer for Manyr's questions.

  “I've always been taught that the key to any good lie,” I said. “Is that you disguise them in some shred of the truth.”

  Manyr nodded. “It's a very effective tool of propaganda, I agree.”

  “So, what if what you are saying is true – that Byr and I have become potent symbols of the rebellion,” I said. “If you were actually agents of the Ministry and were somehow able to discredit or destroy us, you would hurt the morale of the rebellion tremendously. Perhaps destroy it completely.”

  Manyr gave me a small smile. “That's an interesting perspective,” she said. “I know I can't convince you that we're on your side or that we're not actually agents of the Ministry. That's a fact you will have to come to on your own.”

  “And how will we do that?” Byr asked.

  Manyr gave him a small shrug. “Talk to our people. Get to know them. Listen to their stories,” she said.

  “Do you know where my family is?” Byr asked, suddenly changing the subject.

  She nodded. “I do.”

  “I want to see them.”

  She shook her head. “We can't take you to them yet, Byr,” she said. “I wish it were otherwise, but for their safety – as well as for the safety of our people – we can't take you to them yet.”

  He sighed, a deep rumbling soun
d. “Then when?”

  “Soon, I hope,” she said. “That's a decision that Yurat will have to make when the time is right.”

  “When the time is right?” I asked, feeling angry on Byr's behalf. “He's been worried about his family since they were taken. Since they were thrown into a Ministry prison camp – ”

  “A prison camp we raided to free the families who were unjustly taken because of our actions,” she said. “It was a costly operation that put us all at risk.”

  “I think that allowing Byr to see his family would go a long way toward easing his mind,” I said. “Toward making him believe that you are who you say you are – and not agents of the Ministry.”

  Manyr sighed, but then gave us a small smile. “I never expected that you two would be so cynical,” she said. “Or so stubborn and mistrusting.”

  I shrugged. “If you'd been through what we've been through,” I said, “you might be the same way.”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “Though, we haven't had the easiest time of things either. But, you're right. And I'll talk to Yurat and see if we can get Byr some time with his family. Soon.”

  “Thank you,” Byr said and gave her a small smile.

  I knew there was nothing behind the smile other than politeness, but seeing him smile at her still made me feel insecure. It was ridiculous beyond words, but a needle of jealousy pricked my heart anyway.

  Dojar arrived with three plates heaping with some amazingly delicious smelling food. I recalled smelling it in the marketplace in Byr's village – something I'd never smelled at home. To me, this was how people were supposed to eat. Meals should be enjoyable – not simply show pieces.

  “We'll talk more business later,” Manyr said, a small smile touching the corners of her mouth. “But for now, let's just forget about it and enjoy a meal together as normal, everyday Unduthians.”

  I could get behind the idea, of course. But even with her declaration to table our business until later, she was still giving us a sales pitch to join the rebellion. At the moment, there was no such thing as a normal, everyday Unduthian. At the moment, there were the rich and the poor. The have and the have-nots.

  We dug into our meals and it was every bit as wonderful as it smelled. It was just as delicious as the food we'd had on Optorio – just in a different way. It was certainly better than the fare I'd grown up on – food that was as bland as it was pretentious. The steaming plate of noodles with seafood was richer, filled with flavors that were layered over more flavors. It made my mouth sing with enjoyment.

  The conversation throughout our meal was lively and filled with a lot of laughter. It was easier than I thought it would be to put all talk of the rebellion – and our role in it – aside and just focus on getting to know Manyr as a person. I found her to be witty and clever – and incredibly intelligent. She was fun to talk to and I had to admit, in another time and another place, I could see us being friends.

  But we weren't in that other time or place. We were in the here and now. Caught in the middle of a war with two sides pulling at us. And though her message of equality resonated with me, I just couldn't be sure which side she was actually on.

  Not just yet.

  Chapter Two

  Byr

  “So, are the two of you feeling any better about us? About being here?” Yurat asked. “I know that Manyr told me you had some – misgivings – initially.”

  Misgivings was one way to put it. At first, I had been excited by the idea of being a part of what I was seeing – of fighting the oppression of the Ministry and building a new world. I'd allowed myself to get caught up in the moment.

  But that moment passed and I'd found myself having some of the same troubles and doubts that Hatare had expressed. How did we know for certain that this wasn't an elaborate ruse being put on by the Ministry? I'd read a lot about the psychological warfare governments on countless worlds had waged against their people to force compliance and quash dissent.

  I thought that having some healthy skepticism at the start was probably a good thing.

  “I think that you have a very well run group here,” I said. “Efficient. Seem to be pretty well trained.”

  “They're very well trained,” he said. “And willing to lay down their lives for the cause. But you didn't exactly answer my question.”

  Yurat looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I knew what he'd meant and what he wanted to hear. I just wasn't ready to give it to him yet. I didn't know why, but I still had a few lingering reservations about throwing myself wholeheartedly into this fight.

  And if I had to hazard a guess as to the answer, it had everything to do with Hatare. I suddenly had something to lose. I knew it was selfish and it was probably wrong, but I couldn't help it. I felt like I'd been given a gift by finding her – by having her feel for me the way I'd come to feel for her. And I worried that getting involved in this war was going to end badly – that either one of us would die, or that we'd lose the fight and nothing would change in Unduthian society.

  I feared that we'd be back to two classes of people and that Hatare would be forever beyond my reach.

  We were free. Part of me thought that we should take that freedom and run with it. Far away. That we should start that new life on a new world we'd talked about – somewhere far, far away from Unduth and this coming war.

  “I suppose I didn't,” I said softly.

  “I can see that you're still having some doubts,” he said. “Some internal conflict. Why don't we talk about it and see if we can't ease your mind some?”

  Yurat moved over to a cabinet and took out a bottle of a dark blue liquid. I recognized is as Unduthian Gort – a pretty potent liquor usually manufactured on the fringes. It most definitely wasn't a drink that the Unduthian elite would ever partake in.

  I was alone with Yurat in his office in the main building. Hatare was off somewhere with Manyr – a situation I knew Yurat had set up to give us some time alone to talk. Man to man. I had a feeling he was going to press me hard to join the rebellion.

  “Ever had Gort?” he asked me.

  “Once or twice.”

  He nodded as he poured us each about a quarter of the glass and raised it to me. I picked mine up and returned the toast, then each of us drank down the liquid. I wasn't overly fond of the stuff, and it hit me the same way every time – with a feeling like fire sliding down my throat just before a solid punch to the gut.

  With our glasses empty, Yurat refilled them. I picked mine up, but held it in my hands, not ready to down another one just yet. I didn't know why, but I felt like I needed to keep my wits about me.

  We'd been in Yurat's encampment for about a week. We'd talked to more people than I could remember – and all of them had been beyond excited to meet Hatare and I. Yurat and Manyr hadn't been kidding when they'd said we were celebrated within the rebellion – treated like conquering heroes. And yet, what had we conquered? What had we done to deserve such a warm and heroic reception?

  Nothing. We'd done nothing at all but run and hide as we tried to survive.

  It was for that reason – among many others – that I was so uncomfortable with all of the attention and praise we'd received since coming to Yurat's encampment. We didn't deserve it and to me, it felt really far over the top. So over the top that it bordered on the insincere – and almost like manipulation in a way.

  “So, what is it that's holding you back, Byr?”

  I shrugged. “Just not sure this is what I want,” I said. “I'm not much of a soldier.”

  Yurat looked at me. “Lot of us felt that way at first,” he replied. “Some of them have become my most trusted and valuable fighters.”

  “That's great for them,” I said. “I'm just not sure I have it in me.”

  “You might surprise yourself with what you find inside of you,” Yurat said as he took a sip of his drink.

  I stared down at the glass in my hand, watching the dark blue liquid as I swirled it around. Yurat poured himself another one before lo
oking at my still-full glass and frowning.

  “Know what I did before I joined the rebellion?” he asked. “I was a farmer. I grew crops – or at least, tried to. There isn't much that grows out on the fringes, as I'm sure you know. And what I did manage to grow, the Ministry took half. My duty to help Unduthian society, they called it.”

  “That's terrible, Yurat,” I said. “And a story that's all too common on the fringes.”

  He nodded. “That it is, son,” he said. “And that's part of the problem, don't you see? This government thinks they can do whatever it is they want to us and then expect us to just lie down and take it.”

  I nodded. I agreed with what he was saying. Which, was part of the problem. I had absolutely no love for the Unduthian government. I thought they were oppressive, cruel, and downright evil. At least, to those of us not fortunate enough to be born into the right family.

  “I can see that you're afraid – ” Yurat began.

  “I'm not afraid to fight,” I said.

  “No, I didn't think that, son,” he said. “I can see there is a fire in your spirit. And I know you feel about the Ministry the same way we do. But I can see that something is holding you back. If I had to guess, I'm thinking it's Hatare.”

  “That's not true. Why would you say that?” I sounded a little too defensive, even to my own ears.

  His smile was gentle and kind. “Because a lot of us have gone through the same thing. Have felt exactly how you're feeling right now,” he said softly.

  “I doubt that.”

  Yurat looked at me evenly. “I had a wife,” he said. “Her name was Antul. Beautiful woman. We grew up together, knew each other all our lives. She was the only woman I've ever loved.”

  “What happened to her?”

  A shadow crossed over Yurat's face and I could see that he was holding his anger in check – though it appeared to be taking a tremendous effort on his part.

  “Ministry soldiers killed her,” he said. “Shot her right in front of me when I'd finally had enough and refused to let them take my crops.”

  A profound silence settled over the office as we both stared into our glasses. I didn't know what to say to that. But then, there didn't seem to be anything I could say. It did however, highlight the exact reason I wasn't running to join the fight –that was the last thing I wanted to see happen to Hatare. If she were to be killed because of my actions – or inactions – I didn't know how I was going to live with myself.