by KH LeMoyne
Deep in his heart, Callum didn’t believe an oath bond as heinous as Karndottir’s could be broken. Though he’d also been skeptical Alpha Black would accept their child if it were an omega like Gillian’s little sister. However, Vendrick’s abrupt comments had worked to convince him the way no soft platitudes or reassurances could.
However, Gillian believed both were true, even as she put up with every new decision he made and new revelation about plans he’d put in place. She followed his lead, adapted through circumstances that would have frightened and weakened many of the females he’d met.
Part of him wanted to stalk back into the house and claim his mate, just as he’d wanted to do when she hit adulthood and the scent of her cat captivated his senses, nearly sending him insane with his need of her. He’d struggled then but forced himself back. She’d been too young. Too young to mate and certainly too young to discuss strategies for escaping and fighting for their lives.
He could have claimed her when they’d first made love several months ago. Absorbed in a weeklong tryst of secret rendezvous and stolen afternoons, he’d been too busy exploring the sensual layers of their relationship to want to interrupt it with the seriousness of mating and the consequences.
Or perhaps he’d been determined to remain in control. As long as they remained unmated, he could direct their future. Bonded, they would share of each other along their precious link. He hadn’t wanted her to feel his pain, his fear. Her life should be—he growled, echoing a curse inside his head.
She was right. In the wild, their animals wouldn’t have these debates. Life and death was all about survival. Combining their efforts only increased those chances. But on the human side, mating meant the decisions he made would come under scrutiny. A fair assumption, since they should make the ones for their future together.
What he’d always considered in himself to be confidence he now knew were walls. Hard-built walls, but walls built to keep hardship and pain out. The day Karndottir stormed into the Wallace home and murdered people Callum cared about ignited his burning hate. A hate fanned into an inferno the day his own parents died. Not twelve hours after their burial, the alpha arrived and had his enforcers hold Callum down while he’d suffered under Karndottir’s blood lust. That night, he’d sat in his dark home, bruised and bloodied, his hopes and dreams twisted into singular focus. With stealth, he’d vowed to carve a way for him and Gillian to leave the threat behind—before she was old enough to suffer more in Karndottir’s territory.
She’d been a child when he’d made the vow. Now, as much as he hated to admit it, he realized he’d never built a place in his plan for Gillian’s change to the determined woman she was today. If he wanted to keep her and their child, he needed a new vow—one embracing the future and not running from the past.
With a huff, he dropped his chin on his paws and eyed the illuminated window on the second floor.
His cat rumbled low, wanting to go inside and seek the warm comfort of its mate. Perhaps he should have listened to the sage advice sooner.
Callum hopped down from the wall and strode toward the house. He shifted as he entered through the back door, surprised to find his clothes covering him. A lasting effect of Vendrick’s otherworldly punch? If Alpha Black was anywhere near as powerful, Callum might stand a chance of being free.
He’d nearly made it through the kitchen when the taste of milk captured his taste buds and he started to salivate. Glancing toward the ceiling, he waited. An image of a bottle of milk popped into his thoughts. Really?
The infant couldn’t be sending him suggestions. Gillian mentioned she’d felt as much from both the baby and their own child, but he hadn’t given her passing comment much credit. Instincts in shifters were highly attuned, and mothers were even more sensitive to the needs of children. But not wanting to risk showing up in the room just as the infant awoke from hunger, he warmed some milk and took the bottle with him.
No light spilled into the hallway as he made his way up the stairs and toward their room. His feline vision worked just as well without the light, but his chest tightened as he realized Gillian had given up on him.
With a sigh, he entered the sitting room and headed toward the baby’s soft coo to scoop him into his arms. “Hey, little man.”
Reclined in one of the chairs with the baby in his arms, he didn’t have a hard time imagining this was his and Gillian’s son. Nighttime feedings in peace and quiet. The way life should be. She’d become attached to this boy, though, and to be honest, so had he.
He lifted his face, catching a light scent in the air as the baby tugged at the nipple and started feeding. Tears. She’d been crying. He choked on self-disgust. His Gillian didn’t cry. She ranted and fumed at pain or unfairness and never gave up. But tonight, while he’d wasted precious time fighting his same old demons instead of giving into what his heart told him was right, he’d made her lose faith in him and cry.
The baby wiggled in his arms, his tiny fingers latched on to Callum’s forefinger, and time stopped.
Callum couldn’t breathe as images assaulted him. Gillian’s smile. Gillian’s voice. Gillian dancing in a circle with six little boys. Gillian laying a bundled baby into his arms as she kissed the velvety head. He stared at the baby in his arms. “Just for the record, omegas can’t predict the future. I remember Gillian’s little sister, Dana. She didn’t have this ability either.”
The boy released the nipple and almost looked like he smiled before he let loose a large burp. A wave of happiness wafted over Callum.
“That’s more like it,” he said, rubbing the baby’s lips with the nipple until he latched on again. “So where are those pictures coming from?”
Another image pressed into his mind, and his eyes flashed toward the bedroom. A single gold rope extending along the floor from where he sat through the doorway of the bedroom and into the darkness beyond. A second gold rope, then a third appeared, until five lay on the floor. As one, they rose into the air and then twisted and turned, floating in space, weaving themselves into a braided cord shining like sunlight.
He blinked, wincing from the brightness, and when he opened his eyes wider, the braid was gone. The message wasn’t subtle. But what could he expect being manipulated by gifted babies? “Heaven help me if that is my child. We don’t stand a chance with such a little manipulator.”
The bottle had fallen away again. When he looked down, the infant now smacked his lips softly, his eyes closed. “You sleep long and well, little one, because I need time to grovel and seduce the most wonderful woman in the world.”
He tucked the baby back into the makeshift crib Gillian had fashioned from a dresser drawer and some blankets.
He suspected Gillian wasn’t asleep, but he tread softly into the room. She lay with her back to him, facing the window. The hourglass curve of her figure called to him, hardening him to a point of near pain. Good pain. But one he wouldn’t ease for a while yet.
When she didn’t stir, he shed his clothes, leaving them in a pile beside the bed, and lifted the covers. She didn’t move as he crawled in and pressed his body against her back. Not even as he wrapped his arm around her waist, but he felt her tense.
“I don’t want to share the vile things he says in my head with you,” he whispered against her nape.
She didn’t say a word, but her hand covered his over the baby bump.
“The things he screams, threats he can likely do, are enough to make me wish I’d sent you and your mother away without me years ago.”
She twisted and looked at him. “Tell me you don’t mean that.”
“I’ll be honest, I’ve thought it,” he said, lifting his palm to her cheek. He brushed his thumb over the swell of her lips. “But I’m a selfish man. You are the most wonderful thing in my life. Always have been. I’d rather die than have never had you.”
She bit her upper lip tentatively. “Where does that leave us?”
“It leaves me without answers and desperate to keep you forev
er.” He wanted to kiss her. Needed to sink into her warm, welcoming body and make them both forget their struggles if only for a few hours. She deserved more. “Do you know what I love the most about you?”
Her brows furrowed as she looked at him, trying to figure out where he was going. “That I’ll someday be able to shift into a wild, strong cougar and give you a run for your money?”
So true. “Close.” His mouth twitched, and he had to fight to hold back laughter. “It’s that you are so logical, honest, and fearless. I’ve always been and always will be awed to have you by my side. You were right. I wasn’t treating you like a partner in our lives. Your ideas are as important as mine. My fear doesn’t mean I’m right and you’re wrong.”
Her eyes lighted with a flare of hope. “Does this mean—”
He raised her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles before he turned her palm up and licked along her lifeline. At her intake of breath, he gently bit at the padded flesh over her thumb. “Will you be my mate, Gillian Wallace? For better or worse. Forever?”
Her smile, instantaneous and blinding, took his breath away. “In a heartbeat.”
“Not quite that quick.” He kissed her lips and turned her onto her back. He rose above her, straddling her hips. “I’d like to linger a bit, if you don’t mind?”
“As long as we finish lingering before we leave this house.” She arched against him as he slid his palm down her neck to her breast. He teased with a touch followed by a kiss there just the way she liked, driving her anticipation high. His, too. The silkiness of her skin beneath his lips and the tempting heat of her arousal built his own in a hot, pulsing beat beneath his skin. He stamped down the bolt of lust streaking through him and moved down her body with heated caresses.
She moaned, dragging him closer as he speared her wet folds with his fingers and delved into her soft curls with his tongue. Always so ready for him, so delicious. He teased and stroked as she moved beneath him, tightening around his fingers as he drove her toward her peak and over. She panted, but grasped at his shoulders, urging him up. “More.”
He crawled back up her body, lavishing as much attention as before, but now greedy with the need to take her. He lowered his hips over hers until he rested between the damp curls of her sex. With a deliberate slow movement, he teased again, just enough for her lips to part and grasp his cock, her wetness coating him.
“Promise me,” she muttered, lifting her knees around his hips until the head of him posed at her entrance.
“Anything.”
“No regrets.”
He entered her slowly until he was buried deep against her womb, and shuddered. She was his bliss. His miracle. Never would he regret having her. His canines ached, prepared to mark the elegant neck she bared for him. He bent and licked her there, the taste of her wild and tempting. “You are my forever. My always.”
A few torturous strokes was all it was going to take. He rocked with her and palmed the back of her head, bringing her mouth to his chest. “Show me you’re mine.”
His erection thickened at the fierce prick of her teeth marking him and the tight squeeze of her sheath gripped him in exquisite torment. He barely held on, his control wavering but his determination strong. This was about showing her how much she meant to him. About memories they would build forever and the pleasure he intended to give her that was only the beginning of their lifetime together.
She gasped, her head dropping back to the pillow as she watched through shuttered lashes. He kept his rhythm steady, sliding one hand beneath her knee and opening her further to him as he bent and tasted again from her clavicle to the arch of her neck. “Come for me once more, Gillian. I want to hear you cry my name.”
Her responding hum and hitched intake of breath as he dragged his fangs along her neck nearly did him in, but he waited, feeling her close to another orgasm. He moved along her skin, planting one openmouthed kiss after another as she writhed beneath him. As her hips bucked and her hot, wet heat clenched around him, he growled, letting his own release cascade over him. He held her to him and sank his canines deep into her flesh. The quicksilver pleasure of the mating bond whipped through him. Thoughts, dreams, hopes, emotions all bounced between them and coalesced into one tight stream. Gillian’s body trembled in his arms even as her climax echoed back to him through the open bond. Her joy followed on the heels. He withdrew his fangs and licked tenderly over the mark.
No nightmares intruded. No vile threats. Only peace as a solid wall of rightness enclosed them in a bubble—the first true ease he’d felt in days. He rolled to the side, bringing Gillian with him.
“I love you, Callum Mann,” she whispered before placing a kiss over the mark she’d given him.
“Which makes everything in my life worthwhile, Gillian Mann.” If they were stronger after this, then good. If not, then what he’d experienced tonight and the glow in Gillian’s eyes was worth anything he might face ahead. He only hoped she would never regret this decision. Because without her, he was nothing.
As if she’d caught that thought, she tucked closer in his hold and murmured, “I’ll always love you.”
12
“You can’t escape me. Neither will your bitch. I’ve ordered her ripped to shreds”
Callum cursed through his teeth as he tried to breathe. Sweat broke out on his brow, and his blood seemed to boil inside him. Karndottir seemed to hold his arteries in a vise through the damn blood oath—blood curse, more like. Was it too much to hope they’d get to Black Haven Stronghold before the remote leash incapacitated him?
“Is he kidding?” Gillian asked at his side, evidently catching the gist of the threats through their mating bond. Thank the Goddess she couldn’t feel the physical assault. She wiggled a bit on the bench seat of the motorized vehicle Vendrick had left for them at their final train stop. “I can’t believe you’ve had to put up with his bullying.”
“Putting it mildly.” He choked out a laugh at her attempt at light humor, but at least air circulated back through his lungs and the tight clench on his throat loosened. Whether it was from Gillian lending him her strength or just easing the tension, he didn’t care. For the first time in days, he was heartened by the easy way she discounted the threats. A fiery sizzle raced down his spine, and he hazarded a glance over his shoulder. “What’s behind us?”
She stared as well, her eyes narrowing. Then she gasped. “I think they’re hyenas. Moving fast. Six. No, seven of them.”
They were getting closer. Callum punched his foot on the pedal, but the vehicle would only go so fast. Granted the new automobiles were better than horse and wagon, but at the rate they were going, the shifters chasing them—and he had little doubt they were Karndottir’s enforcers—would reach them within the next five minutes. “Do you think you can drive this?”
“Not and hold the baby too. And if you think of jumping out to fight them, think again.”
“We may not have another choice.” The hyenas had disappeared, cutting off into the steep rock hillsides and thick trees beside them. He doubted the uneven terrain would aid them in getting to the car faster, but the hyenas now had the option of surprise. An ugly thought of the beasts landing on the roof or hood of the car went through his mind. “Is the Colt in the satchel?”
Gillian huffed, but gave a grim nod. She’d hated bringing the weapon, but Callum had found a collection of Colt Peacemakers in the meat locker in Vendrick’s home, a stunning display of seven-and-a-half to four-and-three-quarter-inch-barrels, Callum had loaded the shorter-barreled Colt before they’d left. He doubted Vendrick would begrudge lending them one since he’d offered them his home and vehicle, which were more valuable. If they survived this trip and Deacon Black’s oath, he’d find a way to return the weapon.
“Open the satchel and be ready. I can fend off one, maybe two, but I’ll need you to nail a third, if there is one.”
“You know I haven’t fired a gun since you trained me six years ago.”
“You’ll make th
e shot. It only took six rounds before you could hit all the marks at a hundred yards. And that was with me chasing you.” He didn’t want to mention she’d likely be muzzle to muzzle with these bastards. Cool thinking, not panic, would be the deciding factor.
Her lips twitched, but she didn’t argue with him. A good sign. “How close do you think we are to the sanctuary?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of multicolored wheat-and-black fur flashing several feet back through breaks in the trees. The hyena would be even with them by the next turn in the road. He didn’t have the heart to tell Gillian, they weren’t close enough to reach the sanctuary before they were attacked.
Just as he was rounding a narrow curve with a steep drop on the passenger side, the hyenas emerged from the trees, charging along a rocky ledge just above them. One leaped, paws thudding onto the roof of their car. Another snapped near the rear wheel on his side. Too many to keep track of them all.
Callum turned the wheel left, then jerked right, hoping to throw off the one on the roof. A nasty hissing echoed from above, along with a scratching sound as the shifter slid and tumbled away. “Good riddance, you bloody hell spawn.”
The blast of the gun near his ear nearly deafened him, but he didn’t complain. Another hyena running alongside nearly lunged into the car. “Any time now, Gillian.”
“What do you think I’m doing, sweetheart?” She fired again, hitting her mark.
“That’s my girl.” Another glance confirmed two more were still keeping pace with the vehicle, making a furious dash for them. Gillian held on white-knuckled with one hand to the gun, her mouth a thin line, and the baby tucked tight and sheltered beneath a blanket against her chest.
“Unpleasant creatures.”
“Worth every bit of lead you can manage,” he muttered. She was a healer, not a killer, but deep down, he knew her cougar wouldn’t hesitate to save young, born or unborn. Her animal would rule when it came to protection.
