by Celia Kyle
He flexed his claws, spreading them wide as he brought them toward the prone body. That familiar flash of pale skin dashed before him, a shout on her lips, but it was too late.
Too, too late.
He couldn’t stop mid-swing, couldn’t end the blow before it connected. So Quinn and Jessa died beneath his claw, staining the ground and rocks with their blood. If remorse hadn’t suddenly filled him, he would have thought their final resting place was fitting. They’d perished where they’d fucked.
Panting, sucking in blood-tainted air as he fought for calm, he stared down at them. Quinn’s destroyed body slowly changed into his human shape, chunks of flesh missing from his arms and legs. A massive gash was carved down his stomach and a matching one stained Jessa’s body. Parts of her were crushed, buried beneath Quinn when he’d still held his animal’s form. Other parts of her were shattered due to the power of his hit that sent her careening into the cave wall.
They’d fallen with one last strike.
The animal stared at the carnage, satisfaction filling him at the conclusion. The beast relaxed and stumbled backwards until it too pressed against the rock. He glanced at the exit, realizing he couldn’t leave while so large. That’s when he ceded control to his human half, allowed fur to be drawn from skin and paws to transform into hands. The change back was just as painful as the shift to his inner-animal.
The moment he could balance on two legs, he stumbled toward the light, uncaring of his nudity and the blood coating his skin. He needed to run and shy away from the afternoon’s events, was desperate to wash the blood from his body.
Keen stumbled past the boulder, using the stone to steady himself before moving on. His hand slipped on the wet surface and he realized blood had been flung so far.
His feet finally carried him to the mouth of the cave, to the light of day and the shining sun. It was bright, cheery almost, the birds picking up their song as he emerged. It was clean and pure and held no hint of what’d transpired deep within the darkness.
Someone’s rapid approach reached his ears, yet exhaustion pulled at him. No, it wasn’t just exhaustion, but hate and disgust as well. He hadn’t loved Jessa, and yet he’d destroyed her just as easily as he ended Quinn’s life.
Gone, gone, gone.
He shuffled to the edge of the lake and dipped his hands into the cool water. He cupped his palms and brought the liquid to his face, washing away some of the red fluid. He wasn’t trying to hide his crimes, he merely wanted to be able to see when his sentence was passed.
His arms and legs twinged with a sting of pain, but that disappeared as quickly as the thought filled his mind. His body worked double-time to repair itself. Still a neat trick.
People finally emerged from the trees. No, not people. His parents. He drew in a breath of clean air. His parents and… the Enforcer? Dad’s Healer came along as well.
“Keen?” His mother’s voice trembled, wavering.
Keen turned his head and stared at his mother, finally noticing the fear and unease that coated the men’s faces. Even his father seemed afraid. And his dad was holding his mom back, her entire body shaking as she pushed against his father’s arm.
So, Mom wasn’t afraid. That was… good, right?
“What happened?” Mom asked the question that rolled through everyone’s mind.
Keen focused on his dad, on the combination of rage and unease, two emotions he’d never seen warring across his features.
“I’m sorry.”
Two meaningless words, but they were all he had.
Chapter Thirteen
Trista sensed when he came back to himself, when his memories released him into her care. She hugged him tighter, squeezing him as if her touch could banish the pain that lingered.
Her mate, her Keen… She wanted to cry for him, to cry for the victims of that horrible nightmare.
“Oh, Keen…” She nuzzled his chest, rubbing her scent on his shirt, trying to soothe him with her presence. She couldn’t even imagine the horror he’d visited on those two teenagers and the hell he’d lived in ever since.
He whispered a handful of words yet they were garbled by the bear’s presence. He coughed, the warmth of his breath sliding down her neck, and tried again.
“They didn’t die. I thought I did… then. At first…” His heart skipped a beat, her ear against his chest picking up the stutter. “But I didn’t kill them. Jessa is… And Quinn…”
A tear slid from her eye, followed by another and another. He’d lost control, but she was grateful he hadn’t ended anyone’s life. So very, very grateful. Her heart still broke for him and shattered for Jessa and Quinn, but the relief was palpable.
“I’m glad.”
“She wasn’t a strong bear. She’s scarred.”
“But she’s alive?”
“Yes.” He choked out the word. “Quinn left with his family. I think Dad paid off Jessa’s. She…” He shuddered and squeezed tighter almost to the point of pain. Almost, but not. “She’s had a lot of plastic surgery, but looks better since… then. It hurts, Tris.”
“What?” Trista placed her hands on his upper back, tightening her hold.
“Knowing, feeling. They sent me away for retraining.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t mean what everyone thinks it means.” He sighed. “If I hadn’t lost myself here, they would have beat it out of me.”
Trista had no heart left. It’d crumpled to dust and been scattered by the wind. She was lost to him now, her very center cracking and breaking for him. “What about your parents? Your family?”
Keen barked out a laugh, the sound harsh and grating. “If they hadn’t cared before, there was no reason to care then. No,” he shook his head. “I was alone, I figured things out myself, and then returned when I was ‘discharged.’ That means I discovered a way to live without their brand of help. I came home two years later, done with puberty and stronger than before. But I had my trick, my answer.”
“The women,” she murmured and he nodded.
“I need them, but I can’t become attached. Not like Jessa… And then there’s you, Tris.” Shaking overtook him, barely perceptible trembles that filled his body. “If you ever…”
“I won’t.” She couldn’t imagine even touching another male let alone having sex with one. Why would she when she had Keen?
“I lost my soul here, Tris, and destroyed lives in the process. If you were to…” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’d survive.”
“You know you have me.” But he didn’t. He’d said the words of claiming and she hadn’t repeated them in return. They’d lain side by side in bed, exchanging kisses, and yet hadn’t shared the one thing that would tie them together forever.
Words were what he’d had with Jessa and they’d been betrayed.
Keen needed more than that, he needed a leap of faith and a bond that could never be severed by anything but death. And even then, she wouldn’t betray him.
Trista traced the stiff line of his spine, letting her hands glide over his cloth covered muscles until she reached his waist. She slowly withdrew her touch, ignoring the needy whimper that escaped him as she pulled away. But she wasn’t leaving him. No, she wouldn’t ever do that.
Instead, she gently took his hand, cradling it in one of her own. It was so large, so deadly when it needed to be. It seemed his inner-bear felt that way pretty often. Except when a woman held him close. She’d prove to him that she was all he needed.
And it’d start with a bite.
“Come on.” She lightly tugged, drawing him forward with light steps.
“What are you doing?”
She smiled at him, a small curve of her lips as she anticipated what was to come and prayed this would help him. “Giving you back your soul.”
Keen stumbled for a moment, tripping on his own feet, and she waited for him to right himself before drawing him forward further. “Tris, you can’t—”
“I can.” She wouldn’t allow herself to believe that she co
uldn’t heal him. It was the only hope she had left if they wanted to have a true mating.
It was time to be his, wholly and without hesitation. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, at the large male who stared at her with swirling black eyes, she looked forward to what was to come.
Sunlight burned through the darkness, welcoming them with an ever increasing glow until it bathed them in warmth. She let nature soothe her as she snuggled into Keen’s arms and pressed against him. Anticipating the coming mating, her body grew heated, her nipples hardening while her pussy became slick with her burgeoning desire. Yes, her body wanted him and after hearing his staggering confession, her heart wanted him as well.
Deep inside him, he was a good bear and an even better man. She was sure other stories about that time in his past lingered. She’d heard about retraining, about the consequences of losing control like that. She could quote a half-dozen laws about what occurred and how Keen should have been handled. Being sent away for retraining was the worst punishment. She wondered who protected Keen at the time, who represented him before the Southeast Itan, and she hated how much they failed a young boy. At fourteen, he’d been very, very young.
But then those thoughts vanished because Keen was staring at her, gazing into her eyes. She was overwhelmed with the urge to calm the deadly midnight storm.
Trista ran her hand over his chest, tracing the muscles hidden beneath his shirt, memorizing every dip and curve. His body was hard and cut like any other male’s. Unlike the others, this one belonged to her and her alone.
Her travels took her to the snap on his jeans, the zipper keeping her from her destination.
“Keen?”
The black of his irises was blacker than midnight. “Tris…”
Taking his hoarse whisper as permission, she flicked the snap and carefully lowered the zip. The slide of metal against metal warred with the soft sounds of the lake.
“We shouldn’t—”
“We should,” she countered. “We’re going to make love, Keen Abrams. Right here, right now.” She pressed to her tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “I told you. You lost your soul here, part of you was broken and it overflowed to others. I can’t help them, only their loved ones can, but I can help you if you let me.” She pulled back, hand still resting on the ridge of his hardness as she stared at him. “Will you let me, Keen?”
“Yes.” The word was choked and rough, but it burst into the air as if it had wings.
It echoed and flew past the trees before sinking into the earth itself. This coming together, this mating, would heal Keen and the earth as well. He just had to take what she offered. Staring at him with expectant eyes, she waited. Moments ticked past, their focus remaining intent, and then finally he blinked. He blinked and a single tear slid down his cheek, traveling over his whiskered skin to drop to her arm.
His agreement made her heart soar. She was filled with hope and a good dose of affection for Keen. Affection… No, a feeling akin to love yet one step shy of that giant leap.
Before she could move, shift her attention to his body and bringing him pleasure, he rasped a final plea, one she wished to fulfill.
“Please.”
*
Keen had never wanted something so much in his life. He’d never craved anything like he burned for Trista. And she was giving herself to him with no reservations and no hesitation. He scented the air, hunting for any aroma that would prove her statements were a lie and found nothing.
Her flavors were pure and sweet and painted with her arousal. It was a familiar scent now, one she carried to bed with her each night and woke with each morning. Their kisses were passionate and their bodies’ responses just as heated.
He wouldn’t have to stop today. She’d give herself to him, he’d claim her as his own and he’d never…
Keen shuddered, those memories threatening to push forward once again and draw him into the depths of hatred and despair. “Tris…”
“Right here. Always here.”
Then her small hand slipped inside his boxers, her fingers curling around his length and stroking his cock. This time the shudder was one of pleasure, of his rising desire and need for his mate.
“God…” He gasped out the word, her delicate palm causing wave after wave of bliss to course through his veins.
She slid over his length, squeezing into his jeans and reaching to the base of his shaft. Then she rose again, rubbing the tip of his cock. She repeated the motion, slow and unhurried as she pleasured him.
Him.
No, the bear snarled. It shouldn’t be one-sided. She was his mate. Mate. And deserved to find as much joy in their touches as he.
“Tris.” He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, stilling her movements.
“Keen?” His name came from her lips with a breathless whisper.
“This is for us. Together.” He encouraged her to release him and then he drew her to the spot they’d shared before venturing into the cavern of pain and blood. He stared at the ground, noticing the small rocks and twigs that littered the area. With a growl, he led her toward the path they’d used before, back into the woods. He wouldn’t mate her on the rocky forest floor. He wouldn’t.
It was only Trista’s refusal that had him halting in his tracks. She froze and tugged on his hold. “Where are we going?”
“Home.” He shook his head. “I won’t mate with you on the hard ground.” He gathered her in his arms. “You’re worth more than that. You deserve a soft bed and sweet words and…”
She deserved more than him.
Trista looked over her shoulder and then back at him. “We can heal both of us, Keen.” She stepped out of his embrace and shuffled backwards. “Let’s let the lake wash away our pasts. It bathed your face when you were younger, let it take away the rest.”
He stared at the placid water, remembering that day, the red stain that lingered before being washed away by the gentle lapping caused by the rising wind.
“How”—he swallowed hard and tore his mind back to Trista—“how will it help you, Tris?”
A grin teased her lips, one that surprised him while brightening his heart. “I have to depend on you to not let me drown.”
Drowning. He wanted to drown in her, sink into her and let her cradle him. He was shattered on the inside, shattered and damaged and broken and… For the first time, he felt a hint of hope, a glimmer that he could almost be normal. Almost. He had no delusions that he would suddenly be perfect and calm like his brothers. But with Trista’s help, he could be less inclined to strike out. He was sure of it.
So, he let her draw him toward the shore, feet stopping when they approached the very edge of the water, and then her hands were on him, tugging on his T-shirt and encouraging him to whip it over his head. Just as she undressed him, he did the same to her. He slipped button after button free until their arms were a tangle and one of them would have to stop. He voted for Trista. He wanted to unwrap his mate, expose every inch of her pale, curved body to his gaze.
“Let me…” He brushed her hands away and reached for the last button that held her hidden. The moment it gave way, he urged the fabric to part. “Damn.”
A blush coated her skin, starting in her cheeks and slowly making its way down her body, stroking her plump breasts and sweet stomach. He followed its travels until the pinkness ventured beneath her shorts. Then he returned his attention to her breasts, to the lacy fabric that covered her. Focus shifting from her chest to eyes and back again, he reached for her. There was no catch between her breasts, but that didn’t deter him. With a whispered request to his bear, his animal gave one hand claws. His human hand eased the cloth away while the bear’s paw sliced through the silken material.
Trista gasped, but no scent of fear drifted to him. No, it was all sweet and musky arousal. He wanted to feast on her, take his time and taste every inch of her body. Next time. Definitely next time. This place, right now, it was perfect for them.
The cups
parted beneath the weight of her mounds, exposing berry hued nipples that seemed to call for his lips and tongue. His mouth watered and a strangled moan escaped his lips.
“Tris…” He ignored the whimper of need that escaped him as he cupped them, weighed them in his hands and brushed his thumbs over the hardened nubs.
Thankfully his sound was echoed by hers and more of her heated scent reached out to him. Her hands slid over his, encouraging him to knead her flesh and tease her nipples. He wanted more than that, wanted to taste and nibble as well.
Nibble… He’d do more than nibble soon.
That thought spurred him to move on, encouraged him to nudge her touch aside as he drew the tattered remains of her bra and soft shirt from her shoulders, leaving her bare to the waist. A sudden gust sent a scattering of goose bumps over her skin, but they disappeared almost as soon as they’d arrived.
Next he reached for her shorts, flicking the button with practiced ease. He hooked his fingers over the cloth, ready to push them past her hips and down her legs, but he paused and looked to her again.
“Trista?” It was her call, her choice. Always.
“Please, Keen.” The plea was evident in her eyes.
Without another word, he nudged the material and it fell to the ground with a soft whoosh, exposing her fully to his gaze.
“Gorgeous. So goddamned pretty.” That blush resurged, and she really did pinken from head to toe. “Do you know how beautiful you are? All sweet and sin?”
“Keen,” she whispered and he yanked his attention from the juncture of her thighs, from the patch of closely cropped curls that begged to be discovered, teased, and tasted. “Your turn.”
She gave him the same treatment, to the tug and push of his jeans, to the sound of his clothing falling to the ground until he stood nude before her. He hoped he didn’t disappoint her, hoped she was satisfied with him as her mate. He wasn’t normally so fucking self-conscious, but she was his and above all, he wanted her happy.
