Undying Hope (7 page)

“There you go,” Riordan said in a subdued tone. “Death wish.”

“I could live for another fifty years,” Donovan said with a snarl.

“Right.” Sarcasm dripped from the one word. “And every enemy you’ve ever made is going to ignore the fact you’ve made yourself helpless.”

This topic wasn’t going to move anywhere fast. Which was the reason he wasn’t going to do anything with his power until his options or time had run out. With a concerted effort, he shoved down his growing ire. “Whatever. I need to know what I’m supposed to do with her.”

Riordan settled himself at the kitchen table with a laugh. “Do you really need to have this conversation with me? I thought you had it with father at least two thousand years ago.”

He was beginning to wonder if asking Riordan for help was one of his better ideas. Riordan was their paramount healer, but apparently, that distinction didn’t stop the bonds of brotherly love—or the need for the younger one to irritate the older one beyond a man’s conventional endurance. “I get that,” he gritted out. “You’ve seen the contents of the book while I have not.”

“You know basic bonding protocol. Beyond that, if you’re going to give up your
treòir
, I am not sure what else you need to know.” All of Riordan’s previous humor drained away, leaving deep concern. “You need your
treòir
to bond to her in the way of our people. If you still plan to give your power up…” He shrugged. “What is her decision?”

“A tentative yes,” Donovan said. “This could get ugly, and I have a child under my roof. If his
treòir
wants to protect her from…” He left it hanging, unsure if he wanted to tell his brother he thought Haven was his lifebond because his power wanted her. If he had access to the Book of the Undying, maybe this would be clearer, but he didn’t. The book was gone, and he had to rely on what his brother could tell him.

“Aye, mating can get ugly,” Riordan agreed. “What were you going to say?”

“My
treòir
,” Donovan murmured. If Haven decided against him, there would be no chance to give up the
treòir
before something far worse than the time-shift or Kyros could happen. His power would go berserk. The carnage would be catastrophic before he spent the energy. Oberon’s blood! “You’re saying she’s mine because of the
treòir
?”

“I’m not saying anything. You’ve yet to fully accept this bonding. No matter what she decides, you have to also accept it.”

His muscles tensed. “She’s here. I will not—”

Riordan put up a hand to stop him from talking. “You’ll protect her, and you won’t physically abandon her. Those are wonderful things, but what if she needs the power in you?”

Donovan grumbled. “And if I kill her in the process? Can you put me down? Can Wolf? Would Memphis or even Maverick have what is needed to put me down before another Kyros is created?”

“So you give up before you’ve even started?” Riordan countered in an irritatingly calm tone. “You need time with her exactly as you are. That
treòir
is her best chance of survival. No matter what you might think, it wasn’t Kyros’s
treòir
that killed Helena. Kyros did.”

He let out a shuttering breath. Kyros had been his friend a thousand years before the time-shift. Best friends, even, but all of that changed when Helena died. Donovan had disapproved of the bonding, but Kyros insisted he was in love with the woman. Despite all of his objections, Kyros secretly attempted to convert Helena, and the woman died in agony. No Undying had the power to heal the dead, except maybe a bonded male. He paused. He was missing something in the power combination of man and
treòir
. Though he already knew the answer, he needed confirmation for his own peace of mind. “The
treòir
wants her.”

A sad, restrained joy filled Riordan’s features. “Then she is yours, brother. You have found your lifebond.”

Donovan nodded. “I told her you’d give her options after I spoke with you.”

“By all means,” Riordan said. “Go and get her.”

Instead of having a wolf tell her to come down, he went up to the room himself. He knocked before opening the door.

She stopped pacing. “So?”

“According to Riordan, we are, in fact, lifebonds,” Donovan said, feeling weird about the whole thing.

She padded over to him. She still had on his shirt, but wore a white tank top underneath, along with a pair of sleep pants. “You mean you didn’t know for sure? Mason was very sure that I was his.”

He wrapped his hand around hers as he led her down the stairs. “That is how you know the truth. Bonding can be difficult, so there are protocols to follow to assure everyone’s safety during the process. Mason should have, at the very least, spoken to another bonded male to get confirmation. You should not be afraid of your lifebond.”

She let out a sharp laugh as they entered the kitchen. “What about nervous or intimidated?”

“We,” Riordan said, “take that into consideration before any final decisions are made. What was your gut reaction to him upon first seeing him?”

* * * *

Haven stilled and shied away from Riordan. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, he’s just—”

“Big,” Riordan said for her. “What was your first impression of him?”

“Safe,” she said before giving herself a chance to think. “I was sure that he would make Bastian and me safe.”

“And what does he do that makes you feel intimidated or nervous?”

She scrunched her nose. “I don’t know. He’s just… I’m used to giving the proper response at all times, but I am not sure how he will react if I say something he doesn’t like.”

Riordan gave a brief smile. “So then it’s more of a you thing than a him thing?”

“I guess,” she snapped. “I am the one who is supposed to be asking questions!”

“And so you are.” He hitched a hip up against the counter. “What is your question?”

She looked up at Quinn, trying to see exactly what it was about him that had changed her. She could be skittish and timid, but Quinn didn’t seem to want that. He challenged her until she had no choice but to stand up for herself before he’d back off. No. She decided. Quinn didn’t want her fear. He wanted someone who could be strong. Well, she had been strong. She needed to get her new situation all figured out and settled in her mind before she could get back to that woman who’d evaded a meirlock for three years and found Bastian the help he desperately needed. Her attention went back to Riordan. “I know werewolf mates get until the next full moon. How long do we have?”

“As long as you need,” Riordan said. “Every bonding is different.”

A feeling of dread settled over her that if she didn’t accept, Quinn would turn into Mason. She’d been able to feel his grief at Vinnie’s death. There was this awesome aura of power that surrounded him, but there was also vulnerability there she wasn’t sure anyone else cared to notice. “What else do I have to do?”

Riordan grinned. “Enjoy falling in love with your mate.”

Love.

That’s what she wanted. That she could do. She bit the corner of her lip as she peered at Quinn from the corner of her eye. He was holding his breath, and realization dawned on her. No matter how much power he had in that moment, she had more. The thought was both thrilling and terrifying to know she held so much control. Then she addressed Riordan. “I think you need to go,” she said softly. “If he is the man he seems to be, there is no danger of me leaving.”

Riordan visibly relaxed. He righted himself and bowed. “Aye, Reannon. It was lovely to meet you. I will follow your wishes.”

The brothers exchanged glances, as if they were in silent communication with each other before Riordan walked toward the elevator door. Quinn followed him, and they murmured quietly together before Riordan got into the elevator. Quinn shoved his hands into his pockets. “So.”

She wrapped her arms around herself and nodded. “I don’t like awkward, so why don’t you sit with me on the couch for a little bit?”

His head cocked as if he was trying to figure her out. “We can do that.”

“Good,” she said and padded over to the large, dark brown couch centered in front of the grand fireplace. “I’m feeling a little bit lost and more than a little afraid. I just
need
for a little while.”

Quinn slowly walked toward her and hooked his arm around her when he got to the edge of the couch. He pulled her down with him so she was sitting on his lap. “Then we are equal,” he murmured close to her ear. “Sometimes I just
need
, too.”

Hesitantly, she reached up and cupped his face in her hand. “Then we can be here for each other for a while.”

His eyes dropped to her mouth before going back to her eyes. “We can do that.”

The side of her mouth slid up in a half smile. “This is the first time you’ve agreed to anything since I met you.”

“True,” he said as his face came closer to hers. “But I want to give you what you need.”

There was that moment where their breath mingled, and then their lips touched. Her body shivered deliciously all the way down to her toes as she pressed against him. His arm locked her in place as they explored each other for a solid minute before she pulled back. Her breathing was uneven as she gazed into those glacier eyes, and then she tucked her head up under his chin. They needed to wait. If only for her own sensibilities, but she could stay here with him for as long as he’d let her and soak up that essence around him that made her feel at ease for the first time in a very long time.

Haven curled into the snuggly, warm male chest and pulled a thick afghan around them. She imagined those friendly talking wolves had brought the blanket to her during the night. Her eyes snapped opened when she realized she wasn’t dreaming, and she really had fallen asleep on Quinn’s wonderful, beautifully bare chest. Having a mind of their own, her hands came up to run over the chiseled perfection.

The idea of mate would scare away most women, but Haven wasn’t so naive. She’d always known she wouldn’t have a choice. The next in line to rule the Black Rose would be her mate. For as long as the organization had been around, the elders had arranged the marriages of the men heading the group. If magic had stepped in to help her find a better mate, she wasn’t going to complain if he proved he was not like Mason. It was a damn good thing they were supposed to be mates, or she was going to have to have a serious talk with herself about the naughty thoughts flooding her brain.

His hand came up and trapped hers against his beating heart.

“Good morning,” he said. The soft cadence of his voice was slightly graveled from sleep. So incredibly sexy.

She blushed when her gaze met his, and she ducked her head. “I guess we got comfortable with each other last night.”

He scooted up into a half-seated position but still kept her hand trapped against his heart. He used the tip of two fingers to tilt her chin up. “It’s a good thing.”

“I come from an old-fashioned family,” she said without pulling away from him. “We don’t do these things. We have to be respectable at all times.”

“Your patriarch also wanted you to marry a meirlock.” He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re safe to think every opinion he has is suspect.”

She dropped her chin onto his chest and gazed up into his mesmerizing eyes. “What happens when your daughter doesn’t marry the man you want her to marry?”

“I will not be the one making the choice,” he said, and then frowned. “I’d have to accept a mating even if I didn’t like him, or I’d risk her death.”

She hid her face. She always managed to make stupid blunders when talking to a man she could imagine being with for the foreseeable future. “I’m sorry, I was just—”

“Asking a valid question,” he said, lifting her chin again. “All the ways humans have to pair off are as valid as anything else. I helped the first two Black Rose leaders choose mates for their daughters. That was the way marriage was done then. Today”—he brushed the side of his face along hers. His four-day scruff was silky soft—“I’d make sure she knew the difference between a good man and a bad one and trust that what I taught her was enough to help her find a good mate.”

“You do have a unique perspective on this,” she said softly. “We are from very different times. Was the past as horrible for women as some say it was?”

Quinn moved on the couch, bringing her with him when he sat upright. “It was horrible and wonderful for everyone, depending on what part of the world you were in and what you aspired to do with your life. Women had their issues while men had others.” He gave her a look to curl her toes. “I’d rather we talk about something less heavy this early in the morning.” Excitement lit in his eyes. “Please tell me you know how to operate a coffee machine.”

She laughed. “You don’t?”

“Nikon forbids for me to even boil water,” Quinn said. He stood up with her wrapped in one arm, pressed tightly against his chest.

That was the moment she realized how large he was. He held her suspended in the center of the room. The ceiling was easily nine feet, but he could reach up and touch the plaster if he wanted without having to stretch. He had to be seven feet in height, and he was easily twice, maybe three times, as broad as she was. He’d lifted her as if she weighed nothing, and her feet dangled a good foot and a half off the floor. All that size and power and he couldn’t make his own coffee? She looped her arms around his neck. “Do I want to know why Nikon forbids you to do it?”

“My last attempt resulted in some singed furs and a minor explosion,” he said with a straight face.

She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she’d go with it for now. “I can make you coffee. But I do need to get into the kitchen.”

“Let’s go.” He set her down next to the counter. He reached up to the highest cabinet and pulled down the can of ground coffee. “You’ll have to explain the coffee smell when the wolves get back or I’ll be in trouble. Nikon will piss in my most expensive shoes if I aggravate him enough, not often, but he will.”

That brought a laugh as she looked down at Quinn’s feet. Any shoe he owned would have to be specially made, so all of them were probably expensive. She grabbed the coffee pot out of the machine to fill it with water. “I’ll have to remember that. Do you know where the filters are?”