Control

by Mary Calmes

  “Thanks?” he snapped. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Given that the answer to that question was obvious, I refrained from telling him I was being courteous.

  “What are you doing?” He dragged his gaze from my face down to my now put-together pants and shirt and back up again. “You’re not leaving, are you?” I must have winced at how offended he sounded by exactly what I’d been planning to do because he squeezed his hands, cracking his knuckles, and glared at me. “You are. Holy shit, you took me back here, got off, and now you’re leaving.”

  He’d gotten off too, first, actually. Plus, he had been plenty eager to join me behind the building. I took the lead, but it wasn’t like Vy had given so much as a hint of protest. But I didn’t point those things out because I didn’t think they’d make him feel any better.

  “Who do you think you are?” he screeched.

  Maybe the anger was a mask to hide the first emotion I’d seen.

  “Do you know who I am?” He was getting louder.

  But why would he be hurt? The sex had been great; he’d gotten off hard. Unless—

  “Vy? Do you think you might want to have dinner with me?” I asked, surprising myself with the question.

  I wasn’t usually one for dating, because it seemed pointless. If I needed sex, I had sex. But dating was like an interview for a relationship, and that was the last thing I wanted. My kind wasn’t meant for relationships. I’d seen proof of that firsthand, and it wasn’t something I’d ever forget.

  “I’m the kuar of my ket, not some—” He stopped midsentence, my question seeming to register. “Dinner?”

  It wasn’t too late to take it back, but instead of doing that, I found myself nodding. The truth was, I liked the little bird. He was gorgeous, that was a given, but he was also vibrant and spunky and full of life. It’d be nice to spend some time with someone, not eat alone.

  “Yes, dinner. I have to go to work now, but we can meet later.” I paused when I saw him narrow his eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was in warning or suspicion. Either way, I wanted to placate him. “If you’re free, that is.”

  “Work?” he asked, sounding wary but no longer furious.

  Seemed like we had at least one thing in common: understanding the importance of serving your community. I was glad he valued hard work; it was something my parents had instilled in me since a young age.

  “Yes. I’m getting samples from the springs in the area, and I found some baby birds. I want to get them secured before nightfall. Otherwise, predators might come after them.”

  “Predators?”

  “Yes.” I blinked up at the sky. “I think I only have a few hours left.”

  “You’re a predator,” he said evenly.

  My shoulders stiffened. “No, I’m not.”

  He arched one eyebrow. “You’re a bear, right?”

  I clenched my jaw so tightly it ached. “I’m a man first. We’re all people first. Our animals don’t control us.”

  Something in my tone or expression must have told him to leave it alone, because after staring at me oddly, his brow creased and his head tilted to the side, he looked down and started putting his clothes to rights.

  “Yes, I’ll have dinner with you.” He wiped his palms on his pants and then shoved his disheveled hair out of his face. “Seven o’clock. Laura’s. If you don’t know where it is, ask someone.” He strode past me, bumping my arm in the process. “Don’t be late. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” He swaggered away.

  I watched him and grinned. “Yes, sir.”

  He paused for a second and then kept walking, his gait seeming more natural.

  Well, it seemed I had myself a date. I supposed there was a first time for everything.

  I ARRIVED at the Italian Kitchen restaurant owned by Laura D’Onofrio at a quarter to seven. Vy stepped through the door almost half an hour later. I was coming back from a visit to the restroom, which was to the far left of the entrance behind a vine-covered trellis. From my vantage point, I could see him, but he couldn’t see me. He was darting his face around, clearly looking for something—I assumed me—while he worried his bottom lip and flattened his palms over his perfectly pressed shirt.

  Not wanting him to think I’d gone, I waved my arm and called to him. “Vy.” With my height, he had no trouble noticing me once he knew where to look.

  As soon as he caught sight of me, he wiped the nervous expression from his face and replaced it with haughty indifference.

  So that’s how it was going to be? I shook my head and smiled. He was trying awfully hard to make an impression on me.

  “You’re here,” he said when I got closer.

  “You said to meet you at seven. It’s seven fifteen,” I pointed out. “Where else would I be?”

  He didn’t so much as flinch, but I saw his neck and ears redden. My little bird wasn’t as unaffected as he tried to make me believe. I froze midstep at that thought.

  My little bird? He wasn’t mine. First off, I didn’t want anyone. But more importantly, he was a person. People had free agency over themselves. They didn’t belong to anybody else. Period. Shifters included, regardless of whatever silly customs their packs or herds or flocks or whatever else made up.

  “Kuar.” The panicked voice coming from behind me disrupted my thought. I twisted my head around to see a frazzled-looking redhead rushing over. “I didn’t know you were coming in tonight.” She shooed the hostess out of the way and moved her trembling finger down the list of names. “I’ll make sure to get you a table right away.”

  “Thank you, Laura.” Though he was presumably talking to the restaurant owner, Vy was looking at me. Or maybe the better description was smirking.

  Trying to impress me was cute. Making someone cower was less so.

  “I take it you know the owner?” I said.

  “Yes.” He stood tall, his chin jutting out. “She’s part of my ket.”

  I nodded. “I see.”

  “I’m the kuar,” he reminded me.

  I hadn’t forgotten, and even if I had, hearing Laura’s shaky voice say it would have reminded me. But Vy seemingly wanted to take no chances on a lack of clarity where his leadership role was concerned.

  I considered walking out of the restaurant at that point. I didn’t abide by bullies. Alpha or kuar or president, it made no difference: having power wasn’t a justification for using it.

  My face must have shown my intention, because I saw Vy’s mask of arrogance slip and a hint of worry return to his beautiful grass-colored eyes. When he raised his hand and dragged it through his hair, keeping it on his nape for a few seconds and then rubbing, I knew he was nervous. Before I could give it any thought, I started moving toward him. My hand itched to take the place of his and rub away his tension.

  What was I doing? Vy was attractive, yes. But I’d met other attractive men in my life, and I’d never had any trouble walking away.

  I didn’t do relationships or dates or even friendships. I had my parents, who were eccentric and sometimes overbearing, but who would always have my undying loyalty. I had my coworkers, who I saw a couple of times a year during mandatory trainings about things I hardly ever used. And I had the woods. That was all I needed.

  So why was I at that restaurant wearing my best pair of jeans, newly shined boots, and a shirt I’d purchased in town? Initially I had reacted to Vy’s disappointment at the end of our little exchange in the alley. But the fact was, I didn’t owe the man anything. We’d had a mutually satisfying encounter, emphasis on mutual. Whatever he had hoped would come next wasn’t my issue.

  And yet there I was, standing smack-dab in front of the sexy blond. He raised his chin, and when his gaze met mine, just for a second, he dug his tooth into his bottom lip. Maybe he wasn’t a bully. Maybe he was trying to impress me with his power, same as I was trying to impress him with my clothes.

  I hunched down so my mouth would be closer to his ear. “I have a table in the back for us.”
r />   He jerked in surprise. “You do?”

  I nodded.

  “But how?” He sounded disappointed. “There’s a line out the door.”

  I had access to a mirror, so I knew what people saw when they looked at me. One advantage of being the biggest, tallest guy in any room was that I never felt the need to prove my strength. If anything, I’d spent a lot of years trying to downplay it in an attempt to make the few people I interacted with feel comfortable and safe. So if being with a larger man made Vy feel like he had to compensate somehow, I could make that easier for him.

  “Because you told me you don’t like to wait, so I called ahead and made a reservation.” I kept my voice low so only he could hear me. “Plus, I’ve been here for half an hour already, because I was really looking forward to spending more time with you.”

  I wasn’t yet familiar enough with the small town of Elk River to know whether touching him in a public place would cause him problems after I’d gone, so I satisfied my overwhelming need to soothe him by subtly moving my hand next to his and dragging one finger over the inside of his wrist and palm. He trembled and turned his hand into mine. For a moment, I thought he was going to hold my hand, but then he yanked his arm away, closed his eyes, and sucked in air.

  “That’s not going to work.” He fluttered his eyes open, and I was hit with rich gold. “Your scent is too strong this close.”

  “Too strong for what?” I asked, my voice sounding rough to my own ears.

  I’d never seen eyes that color, and I’d never known anyone whose eyes changed in human form. It called to a base part of me, and I had to fight myself to resist dragging him out of there and having him again, or worse, taking him right in the restaurant. What was going on with me? I normally had no trouble restraining myself.

  He gulped. “Too strong for me to be able to breathe and control myself at the same time.”

  Oh, I liked the sound of that.

  “Are you sure you want dinner?” I asked, close enough that a slight lean would have brought our bodies in contact. “We can get out of here and go somewhere more private.”

  His nostrils flared, lips parted, and eyes widened. “Yeah. Maybe we can—” He jerked back and shook his head. “No!” he snapped and then glanced around. “No,” he said, his voice quieter but the rage no less clear. “I’m a kuar. I’m not letting you take me into an alley like some cheap, meaningless—”

  Okay, that had been a misstep on my part.

  “Hey, hey,” I cooed and curled my shoulders in, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. “You’re not meaningless.”

  He looked at me warily, his eyes back to their green.

  “If you didn’t mean anything to me, would I have spent the past half hour waiting for you?” I thought about when he’d told me to arrive and when he’d walked in the door and realized the gap wasn’t an oversight. It seemed I’d really bruised the bird’s pride earlier that day, and he’d wanted to make a point. Well, he had succeeded. I’d waited. Maybe it would help to remind him of that. “Even when you were late to meet me?”

  He relaxed his stance again. The emotional ups and downs had to be draining.

  “Let’s go eat, okay?” I held my hand out toward the restaurant. “Like I said before, I already have a table.”

  After a few moments’ hesitation, he dipped his chin in agreement and then stepped over to the hostess stand to let the owner know she didn’t need to keep searching for a place for him.

  Three

  Vy

  WHEN I leaned into Laura’s space, I heard her catch her breath. I felt like an ass—I hadn’t meant to scare her, but it happened sometimes. It had been important to show Robert that I was in charge, not him. So instead of easing the concern of one of the sweetest women I knew, I let her nervousness show in the hope that he’d witness my power. Shit.

  Moving closer, I gently leaned my forehead against Laura’s temple. I never did it; the motion was natural in bird form, but not as a human. But I needed to get us back to a good place—a place where she wasn’t cowering. My dominance did that a lot, and while I was working on it, trying to be the kuar my father had been—a strong, gentle leader—as of yet I was having trouble.

  She shivered hard. “I… may I?”

  I closed my eyes and breathed, willing myself to be patient and not hurry her. Lou was forever telling me, “When you say you’re sorry, don’t rush their reaction.” And that was if I apologized at all. I was famous for the “I’m sorry you feel that way” admission of guilt which everyone, including my mother, hated. Apologizing because someone was overly sensitive or took something wrong was annoying as hell.

  But I had fucked up this time, so I needed to wait and be still until I could tell from her breathing, her scent, and her body language that she was no longer ruffled.

  “Yes,” I whispered, soothing her. “You have my permission.”

  Slowly, timidly, she slid her fingers over my cheek until she cupped my face. When her skin was pressed to mine, I felt the tremble run through her.

  “My kuar,” she whimpered, and I knew that for her, like for all of my ket, the desire to be close to me was overwhelming. It was the bond, the link between kuar and ket, the primordial need to take comfort when needed.

  I struggled with it, the bond, because I wanted my flock to respect me, but to be the nurturer my father was… that wasn’t something I was certain I could ever be.

  “Do you… could I….”

  I knew what she wanted, but I wasn’t sure if I could—

  When I glanced around the room, my gaze landed on Robert, and I was surprised because the man appeared to be stunned. His eyes were wide, his mouth was hanging open and everything about him—clenched fists, the corded muscles in his neck—spoke to him being quite startled. Or upset. It was hard to tell. Either way, I wanted to get back to him, so I grabbed Laura, whirled her around, and crushed her against me.

  People always thought that five foot nine, a hundred and forty pounds didn’t give you strength. But I could bench press a car if I wanted; I was a hawk shifter, and even more, I was the kuar.

  She gasped, so did a few of her servers, and then she hugged me back as tight as she could. Then she dissolved in a flood of tears and buried her face in my shoulder.

  “Thank you, Kuar; you know I’m yours, as is my family. I would do any—”

  “I know that,” I snapped, giving her a final squeeze before shoving her out to arm’s length. “It’s fine, we’re fine, and I’m sorry I went all servant-master on you back there.”

  There was no response; she simply stared at me.

  “So are you all right? Are we fine? Are you fine?”

  She nodded quickly.

  “Okay, good.” I clipped the words. “Please send someone to the back when you get a second. I really need a drink.”

  More nodding.

  I pivoted and jogged back over to Robert. When I reached him, I instinctively grabbed his wrist, flipped it over in my hand, and leaned over to kiss the pulse point. My mother had calmed me that way when I was young.

  He opened his eyes a little wider, which I wouldn’t have thought possible.

  “Something startle you? I would ask if you saw a predator,” I teased, grinning, “but what hunts a bear?”

  “That was,” he began, cleared his throat, and then he looked at his wrist in my hand a second before lifting his gaze back to mine. “That was nice, what you did.”

  “What was? The kiss?”

  “Well, yeah, that was nice too, but no,” he replied earnestly, taking hold of my jacket. “You were gentle with Laura.”

  I had done it on purpose, reached out to her, but it was not his place to tell me I had done a good job. I was not a child. “Just so you’re clear, I’m the kuar, and so I am never mean and I’m never nice. I simply am how I’ll be. You don’t seem to be getting that. What kind of ket or—what do bears even have?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  I shook my head. “Where�
��s the table? You look like you’re gonna pass out, and we need to get some things straight.”

  When I tried to brush by him, he caught my bicep and held tight. As strong as I was, he could break me in half if he wanted. The thought was both terrifying and arousing at the same time.

  “Wait,” he commanded.

  I turned my head to him slowly.

  “I’m not looking to fight with you; I’m trying to give you a compliment.”

  I waited.

  “I’m very pleased with you.”

  I stepped back, released his wrist, and stared up at him. “I’m sorry? You’re pleased with me?”

  “You had to enunciate the word like that?”

  “Pleased? With me?”

  He rolled his eyes like I was ridiculous, and even though my body was heating merely from standing that close to him, my mind was fully in control, and so I took one step back and then another.

  “I mean,” he said, after taking a breath, “you weren’t nice to her earlier, right? We can agree on that. At first you treated her like a serving wench or something, but then you made a concerted effort to mend it, and that was nice. Really nice. I misjudged you.”

  “Misjudged me?”

  “Just”—he growled—“listen to my words. I’m trying to give you a compliment.”

  I nodded, spun around, and headed back out the front door.

  “Kuar?” Laura asked worriedly as I strode by her.

  “Feed him,” I told her, glancing over my shoulder. “He needs a lot to eat; he’s a bear, after all.”

  My words had the desired effect, and I saw her stiffen with dread. Yes, it was a dick move, but I didn’t care.

  Compliment me… fuck him!

  I was charging down the street to my Nissan pickup, seeing red, hearing my heartbeat pounding in my ears when I was grabbed by the shoulder and swung around.

  “How dare you put your hands on—”

  “Oh, I think that’s your whole problem,” Robert thundered, gripping my biceps tight and hauling me forward until only inches separated us. “No one puts their hands on you.”