by KH LeMoyne
Shanae calmly stating her case, she looked like a viable candidate.
“I need authorization to assign priorities for low-level local items.”
He gave a brisk nod.
“As well as to make administrative changes for efficiencies in the work flow—automating tasks, equipment, etc. A two-week trial would be best to see if you find me a good fit.”
“What else?”
Lena held her breath. Damn, this is too good. Even Trim, leaning against the doorframe for the back door, took in the action with a pleased smirk.
“If you have a problem with my work, please tell me.” Shanae’s voice remained strong, her gaze never flinching under Deacon’s intent scrutiny. “I can take constructive criticism. It won’t crush me.”
His brow rose, but Deacon waited as Matthew leaned forward. “Who—”
She shrugged and patted her husband on the chest in what Lena suspected meant reassurance. Based on Shanae’s confidence in dealing with Deacon without hesitation, she didn’t need additional support. However, Matthew’s readiness to defend her anyway drew a satisfied look from Deacon.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Shanae said. “I think it’s good to avoid misunderstandings right up front.”
“Agreed. Is that all?” Deacon asked a little too quickly.
Lena caught the bright gleam of hope glinting in his eyes and knew the decision time was over. Hell, he’d probably come here prepared to wear Shanae down until she took the job. Whatever action items Shanae added, Deacon was taking her onboard and crying freedom from his administrative chains.
“I’d appreciate some flexibility to work from home sometimes—for Trevor.” Shanae crossed and uncrossed her fingers on the table. “Children get sick—I’d work just as hard—”
Deacon waved away the rest of her less confident speech. “I’m rarely in the office. Where you want to work is up to you as long as you carry the phone. I’ll carry another one solely for your access so you can always find me.” He waited.
Shanae glanced at Matthew, but he raised his hands. “Whatever you want, Shae.”
Deacon moved behind Lena and added, “If you change your mind, let me know by the meeting on Friday—”
“No need. I can handle this job,” Shanae interjected. She worried her lip and picked up the phone as it buzzed again and then glared at it. “I’m not a little one anymore, Deacon, and you need me—or you’ll never get a life.”
“You’re a brave woman, Shanae.” Deacon grasped Lena’s hand as he stalked for the back door. “I’ll announce your new position to the clan at the meeting, but you are welcome to start with that damn phone. Hell, create the announcement yourself and send me a copy for review. We can send it out today. Alpha lieutenants call with emergencies, but I’ll probably know something has happened before they can even contact you. The rest of my calls deal with various business and family disputes. Get yourself a computer and whatever else you need. Trim can give you access to all the funds.”
Trim offered a slow, dazed nod.
Deacon gripped Lena’s hand a little harder and gave her a quick look. Warmth flowed over her as he focused on her.
“Oh…” Deacon turned back. “If you want more responsibility later, I can expand your role to international interaction with the other board members’ liaisons. I should warn you, there’s another phone and more e-mails for that job.”
Shanae’s eyes glowed, though she maintained her dignity by clasping her husband’s hand so hard, he had a strained look around his mouth. From the smile she cast his way, he’d receive sensual rewards for their luck today and his patience.
A ripple of energy surged Lena’s way, the impact making her body tingle. Deacon placed his free hand at the small of her back, and a current of need slid beneath her skin, peaking her nipples and unfurling in her belly. She leaned into him, the physical contact easing the impact and counted the minutes until they could be alone.
“Patience,” Deacon whispered against her ear as his fingers stroked along her spine.
With shifter speed, Trim moved before Trevor and crouched. “Would you like to come with me to visit the orchard next door? There are half a dozen kids your age there who would love to make a new friend.” She tilted her head toward Shanae as Trevor hesitated. “We won’t be more than an hour, but we need permission for ice cream.”
The boy glanced around the room until he saw Breslin in the corner.
The silent shifter moved behind Trim. “I’ll be on guard outside. You’ll be safe, and so will your family.”
Matthew frowned. “Of course everyone will be fine, but why—” Shanae leaned closer, whispering in his ear. Then he took in everyone’s expressions, finally getting it. “Oh yes. The orchard should be fun.”
Lena laughed as Matthew’s cheeks colored. A midafternoon tryst, and Trim joining in on the conspiracy. Quite the turns one night had enacted.
At his mother’s nod, Trevor said solemnly, “Just an hour.” But his excitement was palpable, and his feet danced back and forth, ready to run.
Deacon dragged Lena out the back door, and she heard a tiny squeal of excitement. He let loose a wicked grin, his relief obvious.
“Can you spare me an hour or two? I’d like to share something with you,” Deacon said.
16
They walked in silence for about fifteen minutes. Deacon kept their pace brisk, moving them into desolate landscape until they were clear of the boardinghouse and the town. Their path took them higher into the mountains, each step closer to where the tree line met the sky. The afternoon sun burnished bronze across the leaves, turning them to fire.
He’d anticipated the impact from Shanae and Matthew mating, but the farther they could get from the boardinghouse, the less Lena would feel the percussion wave. As alpha, he experienced his people’s highs and lows, the most extreme emotional changes mitigated by his power or distance.
Lena possessed no such armor. As his mate, she’d attract the same vibrations he did, without his protection and with only his body to cushion her.
The wave hit just as they crossed the edges of his sacred ground. Full and potent, sexual desire swept through his body, thickening his cock painfully against the zipper of his jeans as his balls tightened.
Lena gasped and staggered, her fingers grasping his shirt. He stopped, pulling her tight against him and capturing her lips with his.
She moaned as his tongue explored. His wolf grumbled. Both rode the mating wave with the woman destined for them. Deacon spared his animal little attention and focused on distractions, sensual and physical, to keep Lena’s senses under her control. Whatever she finally decided about him, he didn’t want her catapulted into a choice because of spillover from another couple’s mating lust.
He cupped the back of her head and angled her mouth for a deeper kiss. As the wave dissipated, he slowly released her, resting his forehead against hers.
A cold breeze slid across them, bitter chill from the mountaintops sending stray leaves skittering around their feet. She rubbed her arms and then dropped her hands as if noticing the cold disappear while the breeze still blew several feet away. She glanced up at him. “You don’t need to control the weather for me.”
“You shivered.”
“That surge before wasn’t the weather. Is it always like that?”
“When young shifters mate, yes. Shanae mating with Matthew allows him to help her manage the flow of her power. You’re experiencing the castoff of their initial…energies. It will even out as they finalize their commitment. The initial mating is only shared once with the clan.”
“What if shifters don’t mate,” she asked with a lift of her brow. “How do they manage their powers?”
She really did catch on quickly to the inconvenient nuances. He inhaled. “My control comes from the soil here. The sacred ground stabilizes me—the reason I don’t leave here as often as I used to. The most powerful restraint is actually where I plan to take you now.”
“If older shifters mate, is the ripple more potent or less? Would it be more like a butterfly tap or a breathless heart attack?”
Deacon squeezed her hand. “Breathless always. Heart attack, never. The backlash of the mating hits those close to the mates both physically and emotionally. The rest of our people would only feel a rise in energy, but you were in the house with them. Whether you acknowledge it or not, they consider you family.”
“So everyone shares in their mating? They all know that she—”
“Claimed him as hers.” His laugh rumbled as he wrapped his arm around her waist and nuzzled against her temple. The steady beat of her pulse called to him, a challenge to seal the connection between them. Reluctantly, he raised his head. “There’s a little more to it than that, but everyone in the territory benefits from a successful mating. The people, the land—the commitment is a boon to the shared layer of shifter energy.”
“Because as the alpha, you choose to share your energy.” She raised her head, searching for answers. “I’ve heard other alphas didn’t concern themselves with sharing.”
Instead of answering, he licked along her earlobe until her breath hitched. “I’ll share with you.”
She pushed him away with a laugh. “This makes you sound like a fief lord—all-powerful.”
He considered her initial question and how to explain how there was only so much power anyone could handle by themselves. For him, many days it seemed like the power was trying to control him. “By your human standards, my territory is my fief.”
Looking distinctly unsettled, she asked, “How long do shifters live?”
“Normal mated shifters can live for several centuries.”
“What of alphas?”
“I know of two who are five hundred years old.”
“They’re mated alphas,” she stated with conviction and a narrowing of her eyes.
“Yes.” He held her gaze for a moment and then turned away. How did he walk the fine line of giving information without breaking his oath? How did he let her know his desire for her and the matching need to mate so he could have a constraint for his power? How could he make her understand the urges that too much power created—a constant internal battle to sever the blood-and-honor ties that bound him to his people?
Not an urge he wanted or one he dared allow to win. Such dark secrets couldn’t possibly endear her to him. “Such a bond is felt by the entire clan, but not in the way of Shanae and Matthew.”
No, he couldn’t tell her more. The words belittled the process—and who was he to preach, never having experienced it himself.
“You’re answering all my questions?” she asked. Her eyes held openness, a soft vulnerability that his heart ached to erase.
“I’m trying.” There may be hell to pay later, but for now… He bent closer, his lips brushing hers. “Ask me.”
She melted into his kiss, her taste more succulent than a ripe peach and more enticing than a fine wine. Gently he coaxed her to dance her tongue against his. He teased and played, a seduction not intended for climax, but pleasure for pleasure’s sake. Then he pressed a final kiss to the corner of her mouth.
She sighed. “So Matthew is accepted here now that they’re mated?”
“To a degree.” Deacon breathed in her scent. “At the meeting on Friday, Shanae will publicly present him. He will pledge his loyalty to me as well as his commitment to the clan’s safety. My power will tether him, the land will accept and protect him, and, at that point, other clans will acknowledge him as one of us.”
“I can’t believe you’re so integral to all your people’s lives.”
“I don’t actually oversee all the matings and births in the clan, though I sense and acknowledge each one.” But that wasn’t what he felt emanating from her question. “I can’t leave this role, Lena. These people, this land, they are more than my job—this family is my legacy.”
“Your life doesn’t require you to fix your father’s mistakes.”
Ah, she targeted his flaws with a precise blade. One honed, he suspected, by her own past. “My sense of right and wrong sent me home—no one else’s. I committed to this choice when I stepped back on this land and challenged all. Once the land accepts an alpha, they can’t walk away. I need you to understand you hold part of me as well.”
He paused and remained silent, evaluating his allowable limits of disclosure. This discussion was as close to him asking her to choose him as she was ever going to hear. He needed her to understand he came as a package deal with his entire clan, the territory challenges, and whatever else the international alliances threw into the mix.
She brushed at his hair and then traced his face as if searching for something with her touch. His attraction to her was still as hot as before, but beneath her touch, calm instead of desperation ruled him.
“The hell with distance and laws.” This time, he kissed to devour. He wanted her to remember him as part of her, a part she couldn’t live without. Forehead braced against hers, he finally pulled back enough to give them both breath. “I apologize for not being there after you talked to Shanae in the hospital. It was cowardly of me to leave.”
“Cowardly. Hmm, not a word that fits you.” She invited the next kiss, her lips teasing at his until his groan turned to action, a reward for his truth. But she drew away first. “Do you think Shanae knows you appeared today, intending to hire her?”
“I’d be disappointed if she didn’t. She’ll be the fierce gatekeeper I need, but her strong heart will ensure compassionate decisions. I need both for that position, and she juggles well. Her latest trial was difficult, but she kept herself grounded with what was important: her son, her husband, and the clan.”
“Even though she felt she endangered them all?”
“She didn’t cause what happened to Trevor. I prefer to think she was smart enough to stay a step ahead of her captors, choosing her allies wisely.”
“She was lucky.”
“Yes, but we carry magic in our blood. How we listen to that magic determines our luck.” He rolled his shoulders and guided her before him the last few feet to the destination. “While hiring Shanae is a relief, the important purpose of my visit today was to see you.”
She stepped onto a high rock and turned to hug him, her hands sliding across his back. “Matthew asked me to stay until the meeting. I understand his reservations, but I think he’ll do better acclimating without my input. The meeting also sounds like a private shifter event.”
“Hardly private. Several hundred people are attending. The clan meetings infuse the members with energy. Everyone craves a taste. The younger ones get exposure to our cohesive group and witness my regard for the clan.” He brushed her braid over her shoulder, lingering in a caress of her hair. “Having such a large family can be hard to get used to. I imagine this all overwhelms you. Is that why you want an excuse to leave? I won’t offer you one if that’s what you’re digging for.”
“Family isn’t exactly a complication I’ve encountered before. People always disappeared too quickly in my life.”
He cupped her cheek. “Then if not to help Matthew, will you promise for me? Stay at least for the meeting? It will ease my mind to know you’re safe until then.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Is it wrong that I want to take care of you?”
“Who takes care of you, Deacon?”
No one had ever offered. Not that he’d missed the sentiment until now. His palm brushed her cheek. “My job is to protect and nurture, not to be coddled.”
“Then I suggest a proposition. Perhaps we will take care of each other.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. “If you wish?”
“My wishes would frighten you.”
A smile tugged the soft lines of her lips. “Lucky for you, I don’t frighten easily. Now tell me why you brought me here, to this place.”
He walked with her to a sheltered grove. Stone scalloped from the mountain shielded the location. Moss grew despite th
e seasonal cold. “My mother is buried here.”
Lena touched the rocks mounded over the grave, and small sparks of electricity prickled against her palm. The same sparks she recognized as Deacon’s signature, but this quick, softer pattern hardly matched the strength and dominance of her wolf. The rock alcove reflected light as if someone had polished the wall. An arduous task, but one that reflected dedication and reverence.
She stared toward the east. “It’s a peaceful spot.”
“This was my mother’s sanctuary. The cliff overlooks the land of her birth. I buried her remains here. I like to think she knows her family is buried nearby. Even the dead need peace.”
“Weren’t they your family as well?”
He shook his head. “My mother was the equivalent of their shaman. Even though she was female, her power was strong and passed down in her bloodline for ten generations. Because of my shifter blood, her tribe didn’t trust me any more than they did my father. I was a ghost to them.”
“You’ve adopted the spot as your own.” Lena brushed the stones near the grave again, the vibration almost numbing her fingers.
“It lends me perspective,” he offered slowly.
“Your power feels quite similar to what I sense from your mother’s remains.”
“I’m not surprised you can feel it.” His fingers ran gently across the stones. “She coached me in the shaman path, the warrior’s spirit. Despite her attempt to sever me from my father’s influence, I can’t separate the parts of them from myself. After years of soul searching, I stopped trying. I can now see them both for the injured souls they were.”
“You’ve passed beyond the vision of a child.”
“Perhaps. The emotions are somehow fresh.” He glanced at her. “I always hoped that age would cure that.”
“Well, guess if it hasn’t happened by now, it never will.” She laughed and dodged his hands as they traveled along delicate and ticklish spots. With a subject so melancholy, she was glad, even if only for moments, to bring light to memories he considered with sadness.
