Deveney swallowed hard. Did this mating thing mean she and Tor were married? Oh god, what about this animal thingy she had to do for Maven? And what about Tiara? Would she ever see her again? Would Tor let her leave?
“I sense you’ve got questions. Now’s the time to ask.” Nona guided her to sit on the steps. Hot water rinsed the soap from her skin as she slid beneath the surface, then returned to a seated position next to Nona.
Deveney scooped her wet hair out of her eyes and turned to face the older woman. In a normal situation, she would have found it weird to sit in a tub with another female, but this was far from normal. “I have to find the animal I touched on the mirror. What does that mean? Your sister didn’t tell me.”
“Tell me, Deveney. What animal did you touch on the Mirror of Azure?”
There had been so many beautiful creatures carved in that mirror’s stand, but only one called to her. Remembering the magnificent golden animal that stood tall and seemed to stare out of the mirror at her, sent a shiver down her spine. “The bear.”
A broad smile spread Nona’s lips as she stood and stepped out of the tub. “Deveney, no need to look any further. You’ve found your bear.”
“What?”
“Trust me, child,” she stated, walking toward the archway. “You’ve found your bear. In time, you will understand. Now, if I were you, I’d lie on the island in the middle and rest. Let the healing properties of the water relieve your aches and prepare you for your lover’s return.”
Before Deveney asked anything else, she left. What the hell did Nona mean? She’d found her bear? More confused than before, she stepped off the bottom step and sank. She rose to the top, sputtering, splashing and gasping for air. What a misconception on her part. Deveney managed to maintain buoyancy while shoving her hair from her face. Not only massive in size, this tub’s depth seemed fathomless as well. No matter how much she stretched, her toes didn’t touch bottom nor could she see it.
Was everything in this world extra large? Deveney snorted the water from her nose and cleared it from her throat. From the looks of what she’d seen so far, she bet super-sized fit the standard.
She eased onto her back, moist heat soothing her aching muscles and caressing her tender sex. She did a slow-motion backstroke, enjoying the soothing properties of the water. On her third lap, she floated into the middle and learned what Nona meant about the island. Strategically placed dead center, the floating island resembled a sunken lily pad. It wasn’t noticeable until she was right beside it.
Soft and comforting goodness graced her skin as she crawled up on it. The strange lily pad molded around her, keeping her body from the neck down under the heat of the water and her head positioned on a fluffy mound above the water level. In this position, her aching muscles unwound. The lily pad acted like some sort of magical massaging chair. It felt like tiny strong fingers caressed her neck, back, buttocks and legs. Deveney snuggled deeper into its folds. She could get used to this.
Sounds of the water cascading down from the two spouts, along the slide and into the pool soothed her confusion. Now was not the time to think this through. Deveney repositioned her hair from underneath her back and let it float behind her head. Eyes closed, she relaxed.
One question resurfaced. Did Nona call her children cubs before rectifying her word to child? Had she really heard that or was it simply a slip of the tongue? Warmth gloved her in a magical cocoon, which coaxed her to rest. Tiny invisible fingers worked the knots from her body. With the way she felt at that moment, it didn’t matter what Nona called her children. On a heavy sigh, every ounce of tension flushed from her and she fell asleep.
* * * * *
“I don’t understand your twisted perspective of this, brother. But then again, you’ve been a bit twisted since you raced past me and exited the womb first,” Svenbjorn Artur quipped as he settled on the edge of his brother’s desk in the main office of Bjorn Palace.
“I don’t recall saying this matter was up for discussion.” Tor shot his younger twin a warning look to let it go before attempting to force his focus to the stack of work on his desk.
Dozens of
tabellaes
were layered in front of him. Each thin magical slate had been delivered via the MMV—magical mailing vortex, which transported written messages between clans using a minimal amount of magic. They came from different heads of clans and he sensed he knew what each stated.
The same as every
tabellae
he’d received since he became ruler after their father died.
What did he intend to do about the lack of women? What was his position on the slow disintegration of the magical boundary that surrounded Eximius Mundus and protected them from Proprius Bestia attack?
Though his head spun with the prospect of work that lay at his hands, his mind drifted to the beautiful naked woman in his room. At the sound of Sven’s voice, he should’ve known his brother wouldn’t cease.
“You deserve to be mated just as much as the rest of us. If not more since you are our wise and fearless leader.” Sven’s persistence irritated Tor and his cavalier attitude added to the unwanted confrontation. “When do I get to meet your mate and my new sister?”
“She’s not my mate,” Tor replied.
“Oh then she’s fair game. Guess I’ll introduce myself and see if she’s a match for me.” Sven stood, making a grand gesture and turned toward the door.
Uncontrollably Tor growled, his lip snarled and his gaze darkened on his brother. Sven’s lips curled into a smile and his laughter rattled the windows. When Sven returned to his seated position on the edge of Tor’s desk, Tor tightened his gut and made ready for his brother’s continued childish ribbing. No matter what the cause, it always came to this and he’d grown used to their discussions. Though identical in size, Tor knew he could take Sven in a fight. And if he didn’t discontinue this conversation soon… Tor dug deep for a molecule of restraint. He’d disagreed with his twin on many subjects. He just had to treat this one with the same attitude, but Sven made that difficult by continuing.
“Didn’t think so. Your stench speaks the truth, your royal grumpiness. Whether you like it or not, you’re mated.”
Tor thumbed through the
tabellaes
and did his best to rein in his rising temper. Work needed to be done, but his concentration level dipped to an extremely low level. Every thought filled with visions of her, her scent and her taste. What was it about this woman that had him on edge? Usually, Sven’s ribbing didn’t raise a hair. But today Tor almost leapt at Sven’s throat over a comment about Deveney. A woman he hardly knew.
What if Sven was right? Tor took a subtle sniff of himself but didn’t smell anything. He remembered the scent of his cousin when he reached his mating prime and was lucky enough to take one of the few Morphionian women as his mate. The memory of a strong, musky odor filled his brain. Try as he might, he didn’t smell it on himself. Sven was wrong. But what about Nona? She’d said the same.
Nona claimed their chakras blended when he spoke with her on the way out of his bedchamber earlier. She proclaimed he produced a strong essence. She had to be wrong. Deveney was not of this world therefore could not be his mate. Though he hated to admit it, the sex had been incredible. The magical sparks and bright colors that occurred during intercourse were a figment of his imagination and not the beginning signs of the mating ritual. He tried desperately to convince himself.
Even though he inherently knew he saw the magic intertwine in the air around them when they had sex, his stubbornness refused to allow him to believe he could be wrong. The matter of finding mates for his people, and keeping the
Proprius Bestia
from breaching the boundary and escaping from exile in Dystopia, placed him under a tremendous amount of stress. Stress weakened the mind and played ugly tricks on the tired spirit. That was it. Not mated. Simply tired, stressed and overworked. His brain clicked as he tried to deduce alternate reasons for phenomenal sex with Deveney rather than face the possible truth. Maven might be right.
Then why did it bother him that Sven wanted to meet her and see if maybe she matched him as a possible mate? Tor’s gut knotted and his cock reawakened as a flash of her beauty slipped through his head. No, Sven couldn’t have her nor could he. She wasn’t Morphionian. Deveney didn’t belong here.
The magic must be kept pure
, whispered through his head in the stern tone of his father. He winced. Part of him wanted to shun the teachings of his father but it had been beaten into this brain to the point it seemed a natural extension of his thought pattern. He loved the man but didn’t understand his mindset completely. Was he wrong to think along the lines of purity among bloodlines? Tor forced his thoughts away from his father.
Besides, he promised to help her find her way home. If that was what she truly wanted. He growled inwardly at his momentary weakness.
“If it changes anything, I agree with what Maven did.”
The sound of Sven’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts of Deveney and back to the matters at hand. “Your opinion doesn’t change things. And even if it did,” Tor replied on a heavy sigh, “Maven went against my direct decree. It wouldn’t bode well with the clans if I backed down. It’d be considered as a sign of weakness.”
Sven’s head shook as he spoke. “She’s the magi. The people believe in her magic. I don’t think they’d consider you weak if you changed your mind and gave her suggestion a try.”
“The mixing of Morphionian blood with outsiders hasn’t been tried. It would be disastrous,” Tor proclaimed.
“How? You’re just spouting Father’s unsubstantiated nonsense.” Sven crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at his brother from his perch on the corner of the desk. Tor sat taller in his chair. He’d be damned if he’d let his younger brother intimidate him or goad him into another fight about their father. “It’s obvious there aren’t enough women here to meet the demand. She might have found a way to save our kind from extinction.”
“You don’t know that would happen,” Tor snapped. “Bringing females from other worlds opens the doors to diseases our healers won’t be prepared to handle. Are you willing to make the decision that might condemn our people to a sickness that leads to a painful death?”
“I’d take that bet over the sure threat of turning
Proprius Bestia
and being exiled any day.” Sven stood, leaned palms flat on the desk and stared directly into his brother’s face. Tor felt the heat of Sven’s words on his skin. “My opinion. You can’t stand the fact someone thought of a way to help our people and that person
wasn’t
you.”
“Get out,” Tor growled. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed to slits. Never had his brother sided completely against him. Yes, they’d fight and disagree but in the end Sven stood with Tor, not against him. This was a first and given Tor’s dark mood, it might be Sven’s last.
“Not a problem,” Sven stated. He turned on his heels, marched to the solid gold door and jerked it open, then halted. Across his shoulder, he added, “Think this through, brother. Be a bigger man than our father ever was and swallow that pride. It may be the only salvation between us and turning
Proprius Bestia
. Have you forgotten? Our hundredth birthday is near and I for one don’t want to spend the rest of my life in the shape of a bear.”
Tor winced at the resounding slam of the door behind Sven. No, he hadn’t forgotten their fate loomed on the horizon. Neither found a mate among the three unmated Morphionian women of the Bear clan. One was widowed and came with a cub. The others were too young. And one of those was Nona’s youngest daughter who was like a sister to them. Worse than that, none of them ignited the magic of the mating ritual necessary to save their souls from turning
Proprius Bestia
.
Maven sensed this problem years ago. She researched the outer realms of Eximius Mundus and proclaimed she’d found a possible answer. Import women from other worlds whose spirits contained magic. She believed these women held the abilities to mate with a Morphionian male and survive the blending of the chakras.
But his father had been adamant about keeping the bloodlines pure in order to save the magic. Was that wrong? Look what his line of thought had gotten him, a decreased population, the magic weakened by the day and they had garnered no other options for a cure.
Tor thrashed his hands through his hair. Did stupid pride prevent him from accepting Maven’s answer as a plausible one? Was Deveney’s survival of a hot and heavy round of sex with him proof enough for Maven’s theory?
By the Goddess Nirvana, his head hurt. Worse than that, his cock jutted harder than granite, tenting the front of his golden day robe. His brother hadn’t seen his hard-on and that made him thankful. If he had, he would’ve proclaimed it as evidence of Tor’s being mated.
Hunger for another sampling of the gorgeous woman in his bed rumbled his gut.
No
. He pounded his fist on top of the desk.
Resist the urge, defeat the sex-ravished beast within.
He issued the silent mantra and prayed for strength to abide by it. Tor held his head in his hands. Primal lust sizzled through his veins. Sweat beaded upon his brow and his chest tightened. On each inhale he swore her scent permeated the air.
He refused to profit from Maven’s blatant disregard for his orders. The magi didn’t consider the dangerous consequences that came with this decision. The most important variable his father had drilled into his head numerous times before he died. Bloodlines had to be kept pure for the magic to survive. Tor winced. No matter what, Deveney needed to be returned to her home. It wasn’t his place to keep her and he doubted the magi had given her a choice. She’d probably used some form of trickery on Deveney in order to teleport her through the mirror and that wasn’t acceptable. Since Maven hadn’t answered his telepathic summons, he surmised he was right in his logic.