Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set

by Mandy M. Roth

  “Do you want another woman?” she asked, carefully. Her heart stopped beating and she was sure she almost died in that moment.

  “Right now, I want you,” he whispered after a length, sweeping to kiss her lips. His body thrust forward and he made love to her slowly, savoring their shared passions. When they both met their release, he rose from the bed to retrieve a box from the closet. Setting in on the bed without comment, he left to take a shower.

  Ulyssa sat up. She stared at the box for a long time before throwing aside the lid. Inside were a pair of cross lace pants and a shirt, similar in style to Kirill’s but made to fit her. There was also a pair of boots. Her fingers shook as she looked at the gift and her heart skipped in little strange beats. Then, her eyes rolling in her head, she fell back—fainting again.

  Chapter Nine

  Life at the Var palace mellowed into a steady routine for Ulyssa. In the mornings, she’d either exercise with Falke or take a stroll about the palace grounds, trying to learn her way around. Kirill taught her a few simple tricks to getting about and, if she ever got lost, all she had to do was ask Siren how to get home. She soon learned the computer could track her at anytime, anywhere. So, if Kirill wanted her, all he had to do was ask. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the same for her. Despite feeling like she was a prisoner he could keep tabs on, things were pretty good between them.

  Sometimes Quinn would walk with her, if he happened upon her in the halls. She had a feeling Kirill sent him to keep her company, or more likely to keep an eye on her and probe her for personal information she’d never give. Quinn never let on and they enjoyed an easy friendship. She found the youngest brother to be good-natured, though he did have the same stubborn streak known to the Var men in his family. It was clear he, like his brothers, put no stock in love or finding a lifemate.

  Mostly, she and Quinn would discuss the Var people and their great history—a history the Princes had lived through. She still couldn’t get over that Kirill was old enough to be her grandparent. Even with their advanced medical knowledge, humans rarely lived past one hundred. But, when she was with Kirill, she didn’t see his age and it didn’t bother her as much as she thought it would.

  From Quinn, she learned much about King Attor’s rule. She couldn’t be sure, but it was almost as if he wanted her to understand Kirill by teaching her of their past. Long ago, several hundred years before Kirill’s birth, before Attor became King, things had been different for the Var people. It was a wild time, a time when the Var let emotions rule their head and their hearts. They acted rashly, on instinct.

  For reasons completely unknown to Quinn, Attor changed the ways of the Var. He was a good King, one who worked hard for his people. He encouraged emotional detachment so that if one half-mate died, there could be others to take her place. It was Attor who encouraged men to have control, to drink nef, to prove their worth and dependability with emotionless detachment. He taught by example that to prove prowess in the bedroom showed prowess in the field of battle, until strength in one meant strength in the other. Many of the elders followed the old King’s example and took many half-mates, though none so many as the King. Lifemates were a privilege of the lower classes—tradesmen, farmers, even hunters and lower ranked soldiers, all men who could ill afford to keep many mates on a planet so barren of women to begin with.

  Attor’s father had suffered the folly of mating with one woman—Kirill’s grandmother. She died when Attor was born and his father never recovered enough to have more sons. Although he took women to his bed, he left Attor without any brothers to help lead the Var nation. So, when Attor took over the throne, he became reliant on a few noble houses—like Lord Myrddin’s.

  Ulyssa slowly reasoned that, even after he had his sons, Attor must have relied heavily upon the old house nobles and it was more than likely Lord Myrddin wasn’t happy being out of power. With Kirill as the new King, the old house nobles were no longer needed, for Kirill had his brothers. It was a new era for the Var, and, in politics, the old rarely adjusted well to the new.

  Ulyssa suspected there was more to Attor’s story than Quinn knew, but she doubted she’d ever get a chance to find out for herself. The King’s past had been buried with him and it was just as well. No matter how Quinn sung his father’s praises as a King, the fact remained he made a lousy father, and as a man he was little better.

  Ulyssa looked up from her place on the balcony, where she watched the subtle color shifting in the dusk-tinted sky as it marked the late evening hour. She doubted she’d ever get used to the brightness of the planet, but at least Kirill learned she liked the curtains drawn at night. It was a small thing, but one he never forgot to do, even without being asked.

  Ulyssa sighed, going back inside Kirill’s home. She’d been on the planet for a little over a month and for the last couple of weeks things had been almost like a dream. She was getting too comfortable with him and knew it would be best if she could start to put some distance between them.

  Though their bodies came together often, they didn’t speak of anything intimate beyond the physical. An invisible wall was between them, keeping emotion from entering into their agreement. He didn’t bend to her, didn’t beg, but neither did she. They kept their truce and made no demands.

  Kirill would leave during the day to be King. When he came home they had a silent understanding that outside concerns didn’t come between them. All it took was one look, one touch of his hand, and she’d melt into his arms. Without the aid of nef, he was insatiable. It didn’t matter, because so was she.

  They spoke of nothing important and made love constantly—in the shower, on the couch, before the fireplace, the closet, the kitchen, the dining table. He’d even managed to get her back into the bathtub with him. Ulyssa smiled at the memory of her body riding over his soapy one, being caressed by water and his hands at the same time.

  Their playfulness even overflowed to other parts of the castle, though always in private. When they were alone, he was affectionate, almost sweet. He smiled more. He laughed and joked. He kissed her freely, without thought or hesitation.

  However, the few times they were seen in public, he’d ignore her as if she were but a servant waiting to do his bidding. His gaze would harden and he’d become detached, hardly looking at her. When they were again alone, those eyes would soften ever so slightly and he would pretend that nothing happened. Ulyssa hated to admit it, but the change in him hurt her deeply. It was almost as if he was ashamed of her.

  A few times, when she first awoke in the mornings, she would catch Kirill watching her. There would be a strange look in his eyes, a look that had little to do with physical desire. In those moments, there was something more between them, something neither one of them cared to explore.

  Ulyssa sighed. She didn’t want to think about it now either. It was late and Kirill had yet to come home. Deciding she didn’t want to wait around for him, she grabbed a long coat from the closet and went to find what he was up to.

  * * * *

  “Kirill? Kirill, are you listening?”

  “I’m sorry,” Kirill answered, sitting up in his chair where he stared absently into the fireplace of the old council hall. He turned to look at his brothers. Reid had been speaking to him, but now a frown marred his face. Slowly, Kirill nodded his head for him to go on.

  “I said,” Reid continued, “that there have been signs of movement on the Northern borders. The men have found tracks.”

  “Draig?” Quinn asked from his place on the red carpet floor.

  “Boots. It’s too hard to be sure if they are ours or theirs, but I have not ordered anyone through the marshes.” Reid’s frown deepened. His narrowed eyes looked to Kirill, who was again drifting from the conversation.

  Kirill sighed. He was tired of discussing the Draig. It’s all they’d talked about since Attor’s death. Right now, he wanted to just go home to Ulyssa.

  “Lord Myrddin’s men could have gone through with a hunting party,” Falke allowed. />
  Kirill nodded. All Reid had said so far was merely speculation and hardly worth sending out the troops to investigate. Still, Reid knew the Outland better than anyone and if his gut said something was wrong, there could very well be something wrong.

  “Ah, hell!” Reid growled. His eyes glinted with yellow as he glared at Kirill. Kirill blinked in surprise. “I’m your brother so I’m just going to say it. You need to get your head off that woman! She’s affecting your duty to your kingdom. She’s distracting you just as our father warned a woman would if you let them come too close.”

  “You speak out of turn, Reid,” Kirill warned in low tones.

  Reid stood to tower over the King. “Pulling your rank to silence me doesn’t make it any less true. Lady Ulyssa occupies too much of your mind.”

  Kirill stiffened, before gracefully moving to his feet. He’d gone out of his way to make sure his affections for Ulyssa were not shown in public, even if there were times he wanted nothing more than to touch her, kiss her, pull her onto his lap.

  Reid glared hotly at him. Falke rose, but his expression gave nothing away. Quinn sat up on the floor, but did not look directly at any of them. Aside from the crackling of fire, the old council hall was silent.

  Very carefully, Kirill answered, “Ulyssa is a good lover, but nothing else to me. If my thoughts are occupied, they aren’t with her. I thank you for your concern, brother, but it’s not needed. I know my duty and I will do it.”

  Before Reid could speak, Kirill turned and stalked from the room. The King’s expression was blank, but his body was stiff and jerked with his anger.

  “Well done, Reid,” Quinn muttered from the floor. “Very diplomatic of you.”

  “We are on the verge of war and you wish for diplomacy?” Reid asked.

  “There is still time for peace,” Quinn said. “If there will be war, let it come and I’ll fight it. But do not wish for war and the death of the people you’d think to love. And don’t condemn our brother for trying to find some sort of peace or happiness for us. Haven’t enough lives been lost under our father?”

  “We will not, cannot be considered weak,” Falke stated.

  “The Draig must wonder why we haven’t attacked.” Reid placed his hands on his hips.

  “Let them wonder,” Quinn put forth with a shrug.

  “It could be perceived as weakness,” Falke reasoned.

  “Yes, and it could be perceived as strength.” Quinn countered. “When the time for action comes, Kirill will act. I have faith in that.”

  “As do I,” Reid admitted, reluctant. “But, already the rumors grow. He spends too much time with her. He already has her body, what more does he want?”

  “You sound as if you are jealous,” Quinn put forth softly.

  “No, little brother, not jealous.” Reid chuckled. “Never jealous of such things. I pity him.”

  “She is a mystery, that’s true, but she’s not... lacking,” Falke said. Quinn and Reid turned to him in surprise. Their mouths practically fell open at his words. Falke shrugged a big shoulder and again sat in the chair. “As you said, when the time comes for Kirill to act, he will act. There is no reason to dwell in the meantime.”

  * * * *

  “Siren,” Ulyssa said quietly. “Can you open the royal office?”

  “Yes, my lady,” the computer answered.

  Ulyssa waited. The door stayed shut. Rolling her eyes, she stated, “Siren, open the royal office.”

  The door unlocked and she stepped in. The room was dark. She wandered in toward the desk.

  “Siren, light the fire,” Ulyssa said. The fire blazed to life. She looked around, expecting Kirill to be sleeping at his desk. She’d caught him there once before. “Siren, where’s the King?”

  “I’m sorry. That information is not available to level eight security,” Siren answered.

  Level eight? Ulyssa frowned. “Siren, what is level eight security?”

  “Level eight is confinement to the castle, my lady, and limited privileges.”

  “Who is on level eight security in the palace?” Ulyssa slowly walked up to the desk, not really looking at it in her concentration to hear the computer’s answer.

  “I’m sorry, my lady, you’re not authorized to access that information.”

  Ulyssa gritted her teeth together. She’d just have to ask in another way. “Is the harem women level eight security?”

  “No, my lady,” Siren answered.

  Ulyssa relaxed. At least she was above the harem security level. That said something at least.

  “Most of the harem is level six security, my lady.”

  Her smile fell. “Level six? Clarify please.”

  “Freedom to leave the palace, my lady, with limited castle privileges.”

  Ulyssa’s fingers skimmed over the top of Kirill’s desk, stopping to tap irately on a pile of folders. Under her breath, she whispered, “I’m on tighter security than Attor kept his women?”

  “Yes, my lady,” the computer answered, causing Ulyssa to grimace.

  “What happens if I leave the palace, Siren? If I just walk out?”

  “The guards will be alerted and you will be taken to the prison level and confined,” Siren answered. “There you will await trial.”

  “Estimate how long until the guards find me, Siren, if I were to escape.”

  “Past record indicates the guards could track a human woman within ten minutes to two hours. Anything beyond two hours is highly unlikely.”

  Suddenly, Ulyssa frowned. Reaching down, she placed her finger on a piece of paper inside one of the folders and slowly dragged it out on the desk. The emblem in the corner caught her eye first. It was the symbol of the MAPH, Medical Alliance for Planetary Health. If not for that, she wouldn’t have been able to tell it apart from the other documents.

  “What—?” she whispered, before stopping to glance around. She kept her mouth shut, not wanting to trigger a silent alarm in Siren by saying a wrong word.

  The MAPH was a cover for the Medical Mafia—a good cover the Agency had been trying to destroy for years. It was the whole reason she’d been sent to Qurilixen. It was her mission and she suddenly realized that it wasn’t over. Doc Aleksander might be dead, but this was a document proving his dealings with the Var people.

  Ulyssa gulped, looking around the empty chamber again, wondering if she was being recorded. She didn’t pick the paper up from the desk as she again pretended to slap the flat stone top with her hand in a great show of frustration. Slowly, she rubbed the back of her neck, peeking down to see the paper.

  She had learned enough of the Var language over the last month to make out that it was a trade agreement of some sort between the Var and the MAPH. She couldn’t be one hundred percent sure what was going on, but she knew some of the medical ingredients listed on the document were illegal to transport off their native planets. If employed by the wrong person, it would be mass genocide. Ulyssa could only guess what race King Attor had wanted to erase from the history books with his little order of biological weaponry.

  The paper was on Kirill’s desk, so it was clear he knew about it. Did this mean he planned on going through with his father’s plan? It would explain why he hadn’t made a move against the Draig when everyone around him pushed for war. He could be biding his time until the Medical Mafia’s shipment came. Without an antidote, the Draig wouldn’t stand a chance. Depending on the form of the weapon, it would only take one drop into the water supply or one really strong gust of wind.

  Ulyssa had seen picture of the devastation caused by biological warfare. The memory alone was enough to turn her stomach. Even if they Draig discovered what caused the plague, the antidote would never reach the planet on time.

  “Lyssa?”

  Ulyssa tensed to hear Kirill’s voice. She swallowed nervously, before pasting an indifferent expression on her face. When she looked at him, his dark features, his piercing eyes, her heart fluttered. She didn’t want to believe he was capable of suc
h a monstrous act. But, in truth, she didn’t really know him.

  “Oh, hey,” she answered, doing her best to act nonchalant. Inside she shook terribly. She hugged the long coat to her naked body. She had meant to surprise him in his office, but suddenly didn’t feel like playing.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “I was looking for you,” Ulyssa answered softly. She had to get that paper. Leaning back, she let the bottom of the coat fall open to reveal her boots. Instantly, his eyes turned down before sweeping back up to hers. To her surprise, he hardened against her. A wave of panic washed over her. Had Siren seen what she was doing? Had the accursed computer told him about it? Was that why he was suddenly there?

  “Why do you have me on level eight?” she demanded with a frown, hoping to cover her tracks.

  “It was before I knew you,” he answered with a shrug. “I couldn’t allow you to leave the palace.”

  “Oh,” Ulyssa answered, biting her lip.

  “Why were you looking for me? Did you need something?” His tone matched the hard look in his eyes.

  Ulyssa decided her best course of action was to distract him in the only way she could think of. But, even as she feared him, her body became excited by the game. Besides, he didn’t know who she really was—whom she worked for.

  With a little hop, she sat on the desk and moved to lean back on her arms. The coat fell open revealing her naked body as she crossed her legs. High boots covered her calves and knees, working their way up to her thighs. Her hand hit the stack of folders and they went spiraling to the ground. “Oh, oops!”

  Kirill watched Ulyssa wiggle seductively on his desk. The coat slipped off her shoulders, baring her more. Soft orange firelight alighted on her skin, caressing her in ways he longed to, and glinted off the shiny surface of the boots. His body lurched. Sacred Cats! She was beautiful and bold. Only Ulyssa would dare to enter the King’s royal office wearing such vixen attire.