The Mountain

The clearing was deserted, an early morning mist burning off as it twined through the nearby trees. The man–Teddy–sat very still, except for the twitch of his foot.

He was nervous.

It hadn’t always been this way. After nearly twenty years the food drops from the mountain had been almost routine. The supplies were lasting proof of the truce that had been won by the treaty between the mountain people and the islanders. Teddy had been a child when the mountain people sent their first delegation into town. The warriors brought two bags. The first was full of grain and neatly labelled packets of seed. The second–

The second contained the severed heads of the last ten men to attempt an attack on the mountain.

Peace had seemed like the best of a very limited set of options. And despite the bloody warning, Teddy had been enthralled by the mountain people. He had prayed and prayed that he would grow as tall and strong as they were. And when the opportunity arose, he was the first to offer to meet the promised shipments of food each month.

After eight years, his secret dream of being whisked away to life inside the mysterious mountain had faded. And he didn’t understand the mountain people any better. Often, he didn’t see them at all. The mountain people had access to sophisticated technology, including tiny planes that would drop the food at the designated hour. Sometimes, when the gift of food was heavy or delicate, one of the warriors came, but they never spoke. They appeared like ghosts, silent through the trees, and disappeared just as quickly.

Over time, the food drops had become less frightening to the rest of the islanders, too. Almost a celebration. Each time the mountain people left supplies, the truce was renewed. The islanders were still trapped, but they were safe. In recent years, it had not been uncommon for children to attend with their parents, eager to see if anything of particular interest was included in the shipment.

And then Lucy had been taken.

Now, he waited alone for the mountain people to come. He was afraid that he was not afraid. Shouldn’t he fear them? Shouldn’t he feel, after all this time, that these creatures had stolen something from him? Lucy, certainly. But also, the chance of a life outside the island. The chance to know people outside his community. To do things his parents talked about, like go to college or watch a television.

He wanted to be angry, but even now, he was fascinated. So, when the mountain man came into view through the trees–a tall man wearing the familiar leather and metal costume of the warriors–Teddy didn’t feel afraid. He sat very still and watched. And as the man came closer, Teddy saw that it wasn’t a man at all, but a tall, thin woman with long, blonde hair and light blue eyes. The woman set down a bulky pallet of vegetables wrapped in a net and stood, tossing her bright hair over one shoulder.

Teddy thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Some of your fellow islanders are making plans to move against us,” said the woman, breaking into his reverie. “They will not be successful. And if their threats continue, the deliveries of supplies will stop.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” said Teddy eagerly.

“You would not, as a sympathizer.” Her voice was as musical as it was cold.

“You mean as someone who respects your people?” It was a slur among the islanders to be a ‘sympathizer’ with the mountain people. It sounded odd coming from one of them.

“You are not wrong to find us worthy of interest, but it is difficult to respect a man who is not loyal to his own kind.”

“I’m here alone to meet the food shipment,” Teddy said. “If my people cared what happened to me, they might be here, too. I’m loyal to you.”

“Tell them,” she said. “Warn them that rebellion will not be tolerated.”

#

Lucy woke up tangled in Warder’s arms. She moved away with a jerk, immediately cursing herself for not taking more care. Her movements woke the warrior and he watched her skitter away from him with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“You are afraid to touch me when you are awake,” he said. “But when you sleep, you insist on it.”

“I must have been cold,” said Lucy. She dragged her blanket towards the kitchen table and curled up on a chair, watching him.

“Come back to the bed,” said Warder, resting one huge arm in the empty space Lucy had just vacated.

“No.”

Warder sighed and stood up, casting aside the sheet. He was naked and Lucy quickly averted her eyes, her face heated. “The weaker of a mated pair generally obeys their alpha,” said Warder. His tone was light, but his movements were deliberate as he stalked her to the table. He turned one of the chairs and straddled it, facing her.

“Perhaps I am stronger than you are,” said Lucy. As soon as she spoke the words, they seemed like a pretty bad idea, but she refused to take them back. Warder thought she was weak. He expected her to content herself to a life trapped here with him. Even if it was dangerous, she could not stand to let things lie forever.

Warder ignored the challenge in her statement. “Weakness is nothing to be ashamed of. Rather, it is something to be accepted.”

She could feel his body radiating heat across from her. She shivered in response, frustrated that she was already feeling the horrible, constant cold of the mountain now that she was out of his arms. Among many other insults, it seemed impossible that she could stand to be cold for the rest of her life.

She thought of the warm baths she had been permitted before, with Persephone as her guard. Persephone had not been back to the room and after the way Warder had spoken to her outside the Great Hall, Lucy wasn’t certain that she ever would be. Did that mean she was never to be allowed to have a bath again? Worse, she had always hoped that, somehow, Persephone might be her best chance of escape. If the woman hated her as much as she seemed, she might be careless one day–consciously or otherwise–and give Lucy the opening she needed.

Lucy almost laughed at the realization that she “missed” Persephone.

“I will take you to have a bath today.”

Lucy almost jumped out of her chair at the way Warder’s statement echoed the direction of her own thoughts. Because she was startled, she failed to keep her expression as neutral as she would have liked. Warder noticed.

He always noticed.

“This pleases you?”

“It–it’s the only thing that makes me feel less cold,” she said. Instantly, she blushed, realizing that wasn’t exactly true. Warder could make her feel heated with a touch. She struggled to accept the truth of that, praying that the next time he tried to take her, her body would not betray her.

Warder raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t contradict her. “I want you to tell me something first.”

Lucy leaned away from him, alert. “What’s that?”

“Tell me why you were climbing the mountain that day.”

Lucy’s stomach lurched at the thought of the antenna. If he knew–

But, if he didn’t, she couldn’t give it away. She took a deep breath, wincing as if she were pained instead of panicked. “We were hungry,” she said.

“That may be true, but it isn’t everything,” said Warder. “Between your own resources and the supplies allowed by the treaty, there is plenty of food to go around, is there not?”

Lucy shrugged. “Usually, but the winters can be lean.”

“It isn’t winter,” said Warder. “Tell me the truth.”

“I–there isn’t any more to it than that. We were careless. Most of the time, you–the mountain people–stay away from us. We didn’t know. ”

Warder sighed again and steepled his fingers, watching her across the back of the chair until she felt compelled to meet his eyes.

“If you will not tell me the whole truth, perhaps I will venture a guess,” he said. “It was your friend’s idea, was it not?”

“No,” said Lucy quickly. Now, her heart was pounding with a different kind of fear. Perhaps now that he had taken all he wished from her, he would go after Sheera.

“I will not hurt your friend,” said Warder. “As long as she stays away.”

“Then why ask?”

“Maybe I am grateful to her for bringing you into my path,” said Warder.

Lucy snapped her head up,searching his face to see if he was joking. It was such an odd thing to say. As if he thought it was a twisted kind of compliment. Perhaps she was meant to be grateful rather than terrified. “She would never have wished for this to happen to me,” said Lucy.

Warder studied her for a moment, and then he said, “I’m sure you’re right.”

There was something odd in his voice, something she couldn’t place.

“Can I really have a bath?” she asked. She was as uncomfortable with this charged silence as she had been with his questions.

Warder stood and stretched his powerful arms over his head. The gesture was careless, relaxed. Entirely too intimate. “Yes,” he said finally.

“When will Persephone–”

“I will take you,” said Warder. ”

#

He hadn’t intended to offer.

It was problematic–Grace had never liked the idea of sharing her quarters with his prisoner. And she would like it less now that the girl was his mate. But Lucy did not appear to be acclimating to the climate inside the mountain. In the longer term, he would find more suitable quarters, closer to the part of the mountain kept warm by a buried hot spring. For now, he would do what he could to see that she was comfortable.

He was a warrior, but he had felled many opponents not only because he was strong, but because he understood strategy. He paid attention. He could look at a situation–be it a problem he intended to solve or a fight he intended to win–and determine the best way forward. More importantly, he could accept when the best way forward was not always through brute strength, but through negotiation. Even manipulation, if necessary.

Last night, when his mate had shifted in her sleep and reached for him, he had awakened to hold her. And in the dark, listening to her even breath, he had decided on a change of strategy.

He would not bend her to his will with force. He was confident such a strategy would work, in theory, but he found that he wanted something more from her than obedience and the promise of power.

He wanted her to reach for him. To admit that she wanted him. And that would only come to pass if he nurtured their connection until it grew beyond the heat of their bond.

He might encourage her, certainly. And if she entered estrous again–a possibility due to their intense proximity–he would not hesitate to follow her. But in the meantime, he could be patient. He would seek to content her to her situation.

#

Lucy turned the taps in the marble bathroom as hot as they would go. When the tub was nearly full, she leapt into the water, ignoring the fact that she sent a small wave sloshing over the side of the tub. She simply reached one foot out of the blissful warmth and turned the tap with a toe, letting a thin stream replace what had been lost.

As she thawed, she became more and more aware of the fact that Warder was only a room away. He had walked through the entire quarters to check for whatever unknown dangers might be lurking. She had trailed him awkwardly through a gilded living room, a large, well-equipped kitchen, and two separate bedrooms. The luxury was a marked contrast to Warder’s own quarters, but it fit with the fancy bathroom. Even here, the ceilings sloped at odd angles and the air was dusty and cold. Gilt and soft fabrics could not completely hide the fact that these people lived underground.

When he had swept through all the rooms, Warder had announced that he would wait in the hallway, guarding the entrance. She had been ready to order him away from her before she undressed and he had left without a backward glance.

She suspected he was up to something. As long as he left her alone for a few moments in the bath, she decided she didn’t care. She closed her eyes and drifted, nearly asleep as she basked in the warmth. The past few days had been too much.

When she woke up, floating lazily in the cooling water, there was a strange woman sitting across from her on the gilded bench where Lucy had left her towel. Lucy sat up with splash and she was about to call out when the woman raised her eyebrows and held one finger to her lips.

“I saw Warder at the door, if you shout, he’ll be here in an instant, and I won’t get to talk to you at all.” The woman had light blue eyes and the same fair hair as most of the mountain people. Belatedly, Lucy realized that she was wearing warrior garb similar to Warder’s. She had noticed that some of the warriors were women, but she had never seen one up close.

“Who are you?” Lucy sat up, covering her bare chest with one arm.

“Cenia,” said the woman. She kept her voice low and Lucy did the same. It was true that Warder would come running at any sign of a disturbance, but the woman did not seem dangerous. At least, not any more dangerous than any mountain dweller. While Lucy watched, she began to unlace her heavy boots, sighing in pleasure and rubbing the arch of her foot as she removed first one and then the other.

“What are you doing here?”

“The same thing you are, I suppose,” said Cenia. “My mother didn’t want me to be a warrior. I have to act as if I love absolutely everything about it. And I do, except for how filthy we get all the time. Grace is in court, so I knew this place would be deserted. But I forgot Warder would know that, too.”

In one breath, Cenia had told Lucy more about life inside the mountain than she’d learned in weeks. She sat up, maneuvering awkwardly to try to preserve her modesty. “Lady Grace is your mother?”

Cenia nodded. “I had heard the two of you met. She can be very dramatic, my mother. Especially when it comes to Warder. Am I making you uncomfortable? I forget how modest you islanders are.”

“Oh, um…”

“It comes from having space,” said Cenia. “We are all so close together in here, we’ve learned to maintain privacy without any actual privacy. Normally, I’d bathe with everyone else in the bath hall, but I still remember the luxury of hot water. As long as Grace never finds out…”

“Would she be angry?” This seemed so foreign from Lucy’s own experience. Her mother did not begrudge her anything. In fact, in lean times, it was up to Lucy to ensure that her mother didn’t go without to try to give her daughter a larger share. She called to mind the strange encounter with Lady Grace in the hallway. She had been polite and syrupy sweet, but the whole thing had set Lucy a bit on edge. At the time, she had thought it was nothing more than the strangeness that she felt at encountering any of the mountain people. But Warder’s reaction to the encounter and Cenia’s less-than-glowing account of her own mother made her trust her instincts more completely.

Cenia was quiet for a moment. “My mother does not like anything that slips outside her control,” she said finally. “Although, I suppose I ought to be thanking you for making things easier.”

“Thanking me? I don’t even know you.”

“Now that Warder is mated, Grace can stop insisting that I ought to be his mate instead of being a warrior.”

“Oh,” said Lucy. “That.” Again, her stomach did a funny flip at the idea of Warder being mated to someone else. Hormones, she scolded herself silently. She didn’t want him. She would be grateful if someone else took him away. She reasoned that she would have felt a strange kind of connection to anyone who had managed to take away the sickness that had plagued her for most of her life. That, or one sickness had been replaced with another.

Cenia must have read her discomfort. “Are you not happy at being mated to Warder? He’s very strong. Everyone thought he would take an omega, despite there being so few of us. I suppose no one suspected there were still omegas living in your town.”

“I don’t want to be mated to anyone,” said Lucy. “I want to go home.” More of what Cenia said penetrated. “What is an omega?”

“You don’t know?” Cenia looked surprised. “I guess…I guess you wouldn’t, having lived outside all your life. But it’s hard to imagine.”

“I’ve worked out it has something to do with being mated, but no one had told me anything. Except you.”

“Probably I shouldn’t,” said Cenia, but she didn’t sound all that worried. “Except I feel like I should. Omegas usually stick together. We’re loyal to each other long before we choose our mates.”

“You’re an…omega?”

Cenia nodded. “As soon as my mother figured it out, she was determined that I would be mated to someone powerful. It’s always driven her nuts that Hadren has Ysabel. I think she would have given me to him if she could to get Ysabel away from him.”

Lucy couldn’t believe that Cenia could speak so casually of such twisted dynamics. “Hadren isn’t…is he your father?”

Cenia laughed. “God no. My mother is mated, too. To an omega named Alistair. My father. He’s a good man. I don’t see him often because he avoids Grace all he can.”

“On the island, no one would ever have a mate and a husband or a wife or…whatever. Doesn’t it get complicated?”

“It’s probably complicated either way,” said Cenia. “But Warder must have explained all this to you.”

Lucy shook her head. “He doesn’t talk much at all.” The water was quickly turning to ice. Lucy started to get out and then blushed. “Could you–turn around?”

Cenia laughed quietly to herself and turned away, holding out Lucy’s towel as she did so. Lucy grabbed for it and wrapped herself in the fluffy cloth. She was already shivering. “Why aren’t mountain people cold all the time?”

Cenia turned back to her with a look of concern. “All of this must be a big adjustment. But at least you have Warder to help you.”

It was Lucy’s turn to laugh. “Warder? Help me? He’s my jailer.”

Cenia looked troubled. “He is your mate,” she said, as if that explained everything. “I cannot imagine Warder treating his mate poorly. Not after waiting so long.”

“I don’t think we’re talking about the same person.”

“Cenia.”

Cenia’s fair head whipped around at the sound of Warder’s voice. “Commander,” she said. She stood up and assumed a remarkably official pose, considering the fact that she was still barefoot.

“What are you doing here?” Warder asked.

“I was going to take a hot bath,” said Cenia, “But–” she broke her official pose and gestured at Lucy with a small smile.

“How did you get in?” snapped Warder. “I was guarding the door.”

“Grace has a secret entrance,” said Cenia. “I thought you knew.”

“I should have known,” said Warder darkly. “And she was the one who sent you?”

Cenia looked startled. “No. She doesn’t know I’m here. And even if she did try to order me here, I don’t take orders from Grace anymore.”

“So you say,” said Warder.

Cenia shot Lucy a glance and instantly, Warder growled. Cenia looked away, fixing Warder with a glare.

“You think I would let Grace manipulate me?” she asked. Her friendly voice had gone cold.

“Knowingly or otherwise,” said Warder. “You had a habit of seeing good intentions in people who don’t have any.”

“Perhaps that’s why I chose you for a commander,” said Cenia darkly. “I delivered your message today, in case you were wondering.”

Warder seemed to remember that Lucy was in the room. He crossed the distance between them and pulled her behind him, blocking Cenia from view.

“Go,” he said. “Report to Rader. And don’t let me find you haunting Grace’s quarters again. Remember where your loyalty lies.”

“You don’t really question my loyalty, do you, Warder?” asked Cenia.

“If I did, you would not serve me anymore,” Warder said. “Now go, Cenia. That’s an order.”

Cenia gathered her boots and left the room, shooting Lucy the quickest of glances. Lucy gave her a small smile, careful that Warder didn’t see. Whoever Cenia was, she had answered more of Lucy’s questions in five minutes than anyone else had since she had been captured. Of course, her answers had been like riddles, leaving Lucy with even more questions.

#

Warder watched Cenia depart, keenly aware of his mate taking in every detail of their interaction. He wondered what had been said before he had found them. Where Grace was calculating and careful, Cenia was almost without guile. She was friendly and talkative. Her sweet demeanor had an edge–the sharpness that came from deliberately being everything her mother was not. That edge was the reason Warder had taken her on in his regiment when she had announced that she would be a warrior.

Later, he would demand a full accounting of the conversation. He had made a conscious decision to keep Lucy ignorant of the inner workings of the mountain. Eventually, it would not be possible. He knew she was angry with him for keeping her in the dark, for demanding her obedience. But he was protecting her. She wasn’t ready to know the truth of their existence, particularly now, when it seemed things were more precarious than they had ever been.

“Can I have my clothes back?” Lucy’s voice broke into his thoughts. He had taken her clothes with him when he left her to take her bath to discourage her from wandering. “I’m freezing.”

“I am unlikely to let you freeze,” said Warder. He stepped towards her, wondering if she would hold her ground. She clutched her towel more tightly around her body and glared at him. Her wet hair hung like silk around her shoulders, curling as it dried. She was beautiful, but the Alpha in him was displeased. She smelled like soap. Clean. Empty. She should smell like him. Marked.

The bite marks at her wrist and her nape were healing. He could show her how pleasurable it could be to replace them.

“I’m ready to leave,” said Lucy. She stood her ground still, but she only pretending to look at him, focusing just past his shoulder. “Please.”

“You give me the impression that you have no desire for me when you are not in heat,” said Warder softly.

“That would be a correct impression.”

“It’s odd,” said Warder. “I have never been mated before, but those who are speak of it freely. And from everything I’ve heard, the craving that an alpha and their mate have for one another doesn’t fade with the fluctuation of their cycles.” He took another step closer to her. Slowly, he raised his hands and tangled his fingers in her wet hair. “They describe something much different. Something constant that sounds very hard to ignore.”

He unwound the towel from her shoulders and tossed it away. Lucy backed towards the sink.

“I don’t want to,” said Lucy. “I don’t want you. Maybe I’m different.”

“Hmm,” said Warder. Casually, he placed his hands on either side of her, resting them on the vanity so that she was trapped.

“I didn’t want to be mated to you. So I don’t feel–that way.”

“No,” said Warder. “But if you did, it wouldn’t change anything between us. You would still be a prisoner. You could still hate me. But if you did feel any desire–” He trailed off and took a small step away. As he did, his hand brushed against her skin as if by accident and Lucy shuddered.

His nearness had made her heart pound. He was offering her an out. A way to reach for him, now, when he was so close and warm and strong and still be able to tell him that she hated him. That their closeness was only because he had forced himself on her and made her his mate.

“I don’t want you,” she said. “I want to go home.”

His hand went between her legs, feeling the wetness there. “You don’t,” he said, his voice thick. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to the scar on her neck. The touch was like a shock of lightning directly to her core and she almost came against his hand.

“No!” Lucy pushed him away and Warder let her. After a few, tense moments, he left the room, returning a moment later with her clothes and commanding her to dress quickly.

Lucy felt his absence even as he stood not six feet away, watching her carefully, clinically as she dressed. She did not want him. She did not want to want him. He was her captor. He was a monster.

#

Instead of returning to his rooms, Warder brought Lucy to a part of the mountain that she had never seen before. The sound of rushing water was stronger here, almost like a waterfall in the distance. The air smelled of salt, reminding her of the ocean. She longed to swim in the ocean again. If she did–no, when she did, she would bob for hours on the waves, letting them carry her up and down, up and down, with no purpose, no direction.

When Warder set her down, the first thing Lucy noticed was that she was warm. The stone walls around them were the same color as everywhere else, but here, they let off steam instead of dust and the room was filled with delightfully humid air.

The second thing she noticed was the sound of children’s voices.

Warder led her past what must have been a guard post–two warriors stood at attention and he nodded to them, keeping himself between the warriors and his mate as they passed. The entered another room and Lucy saw where the sounds of children had been coming from. The room was full of children, babies to around age five or six. There were toys strewn here and there on the stone floor and even a stone slide carved into one wall. In the center of the room, a small group of people were gathered around a counter talking, several holding babies on their hips.

“What is this?”

“The nursery,” said Warder.

“Why are we here?” asked Lucy warily.

“It’s one of the safest places in the compound,” said Warder. “I have other places to be today.”

A blonde woman came forward, holding a cherubic-looking toddler. Behind her, the other people–mostly women, but a handful of men–stared at Warder and Lucy, a few of them whispering behind their hands.

“Warder,” the blonde said. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. “Welcome. And Lucy.” She smiled at Lucy. “I understand you will spend the day with us.”

“Warder, I don’t need a babysitter,” said Lucy when the woman stepped away to let them say goodbye to each other in private. “I’m an adult. Let me go somewhere and meet people under normal conditions.”

Warder frowned. “This is normal. And this is where you will spend your time when you care for our child.”

“I’m not pregnant,” said Lucy.

“I know,” said Warder. “I will keep trying.”

Before Lucy could argue, Warder left.

The blonde woman approached her again. “I’m Livia,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you. You’re so lucky to be mated to Warder,” said Livia. “He is a strong warrior.”

“I don’t want to be his mate,” said Lucy. The normal, calm way that the women welcomed her made Lucy feel panicky. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t one of them.

“Warder is a handsome man. And a great warrior,” the woman offered, as if this might tempt Lucy to be friendly. Lucy frowned.

“I don’t want him,” said Lucy. “I don’t like him. He brought me here against my will.”

Livia looked upset. She turned to her neighbors for help, but the people around her all seemed suddenly to be engrossed in the care of various children, wandering around the room and keeping their distance. She drifted away without further comment when a small, blonde girl came and tugged on her arm, leaving Lucy alone.

It was warm enough in the room that Lucy eventually had to take off Warder’s jacket. She sat on it instead, aware that the gesture might make her look possessive but determined that none of the children who seemed to be into everything would mess with it and discover the antenna hidden in the lining.

Watching the easy way that the mountain people were with each other and hearing the cries and laughter of the children, Lucy felt incredibly lonely.

They are party to your captivity, she reminded herself. They are mountain people. You’re an islander.

The longer Warder was gone, the more miserable she felt. Miserable because she was trapped. And miserable because she longed for Warder despite herself. She felt his absence keenly. It was, she realized, very much like the sickness whose specter had hung over so much of her life. When Warder was away, she felt as she had all those lonely times she had pretended to be well while her body felt as if it were being torn apart from the inside out.

She felt something brush against her knee and almost cried out. A small boy stood in front of her, holding out a wooden toy shaped like a dragon.

“It’s broken.”

He spoke in English, which surprised Lucy. The other children didn’t seem to know any English. Perhaps they were too young. This boy looked to be about five or six, one of the oldest children in the room.

Lucy looked up at the other adults, expecting one of them to claim the boy. Every other time a child had approached her, its parent had quickly intervened, trying to manage the interaction and inevitably spiriting the child away when Lucy refused to engage. But no one moved.

Lucy felt a sudden surge of protectiveness towards the child who seemed to be without help from his caretakers. She reached out and took the toy from the boy’s hand, setting it in her lap and examining it carefully for damage. The toy had metal wings that were supposed to open, but they were stuck shut because one of them had been bent. Carefully, she pressed on the bent wing, hoping to straighten it enough that the toy would function. To her dismay, a small piece of the wing broke off in her hand at the same time that the wings sprung out of the body of the toy.

Seemingly unaware of the damage, the boy looked delighted to see the toy mostly back to normal.

“Want to see?” he asked her. His English was clear with only a slight accent, but his sentences were short. Lucy couldn’t decide if this was a function of his age or if he was uncertain of the words to string together longer sentences.

“See what?” she asked.

“My toys,” said the boy, as if she were acting a bit stupid.

Lucy glanced around and shrugged. “Sure.” She slipped carefully from her seat, dragging Warder’s heavy jacket with her like a security blanket.

“Lucy–” it was Livia.

“What?” she said.

“Well–” said Livia, suddenly uncertain. “Do not take too much of her time, Elias,” the woman said finally. “She is a guest.”

Elias nodded seriously and reached for Lucy’s hand. “Come.”

He led her to a place where the stone wall sloped near to the ground, creating an alcove with oddly shaped warrens and divots in the wall. Taking advantage of the protected space, the boy had built a small city. It was, to Lucy’s untrained eye, a marvel of planning. She had expected child’s play and more broken toys. Instead, she saw intricately designed streets with bridges and tunnels and even–

“Is that a working light?”

The boy nodded and picked it up to show her the tiny mechanism inside. Lucy wondered if it worked the same way as the mysterious lights illuminating the mountain tunnels. The boy pointed to different streets, explaining their names. One of the larger divots in the wall was his own great hall and another was what he called the “warrior’s rooms.” She realized now that his English really was remarkable, almost native. He rarely had to stop and think of a word, even as he described “tunnels” and “byways” through his intricate little kingdom.

“What does the dragon do?” she asked him.

“Flies,” say the boy. He demonstrated, holding the toy over the city. “Sometimes, he breaks things.”

For now, the dragon was parked inside a small alcove in the wall that served as his cave. Lucy was enlisted to help assemble a tiny train track running through the outskirts of town.

#

Warder led his regiment on drills, watching like a hawk for any error. Errors meant laps, particularly uncomfortable in the heat on the side of the mountain closest to the hot spring. These particular training grounds were also closest to where he had left his mate, but he allowed himself to believe that her proximity was incidental. He had been too often away from his post and the lack of training showed.

Two men in full uniform finished a set. Warder watched as they used towels to wipe the sweat from their brows and drank deeply from their canteens.

“Again,” he said. “It was too slow.”

The soldiers looked at him in disbelief, but did not argue. They were too well-trained to question their commander.

It was Rader who spoke, taking advantage of his position as second-in-command. “They’ve had a rough go of it today, Warder.”

“They grow soft,” said Warder. “They believe they are strong only because it has been so long since they have had to fight.”

There was a short silence, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of the soldiers running in the cavern.

“You are irritable away from your mate.”

“You forget your place,” Warder growled.

Rader laughed. Cenia, waiting for her turn to run, looked up, startled at the sound. Warder glared at Rader for daring to speak so freely where his soldiers could hear.

Rader declined to notice. “It is normal,” he insisted, almost grinning. “It is good that you want to be with her.”

“What I want is to keep her safe. And that starts with protecting this mountain.”

“Hadren knows of her already. Without that, he would never have brought Ysabel to the Great Hall.”

“I saw it,” said Warder. “He meant only to challenge me, but that display made everyone uneasy. It is a reminder of the cost of our existence.”

“Perhaps, now that you are mated–”

“Do not suggest it,” Warder growled.

This time, the silence was uneasy. Rader was permitted many things, but even he could go too far. Still, he felt that what he said next needed to be said.

“What happened to Lyric was tragic,’ said Rader, “but it is no guarantee that anyone else will share her fate.”

Warder growled a warning.

“I speak of strategy,” said Rader, holding up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Safety. War. All things germane to my position.”

“My mate is separate from those things.”

“You know that isn’t true.”

At that, Rader called out to the soldiers, joining them as they ran. Running away from his commander in the guise of supporting the tired troops. His prodding of Warder had done them no favors. He was likely to run them all into the ground while he turned over what had been said.

#

In the end, the soldiers received a reprieve within the hour. Warder found that he did not wish to be away from Lucy any longer. He assigned the men in small groups to extra patrols, allowing for a rotating dinner hour. There were times when he deliberately “forgot” to make this provision, and the warriors were grateful for his leniency.

Warder was hungry for something else. He wanted Lucy. He wanted to be inside her, to feel her pulsing around his cock while she called out his name. He nearly ran to the nursery, tempering his pace only as he approached the guard’s station. He would not appear overeager.

Inside the nursery, Livia and the others were gathered around a table, preparing food for the children. Several of the babes were sleeping now in bassinets fastened to the rock. A servant stood by, rocking them gently. He looked for Lucy’s dark head in the crowd.

She was not there.

“Where is Lucy?” His stride easily ate up the space between them.

Livia swallowed nervously. “She is well, Warder.”

“Where?”

“With Elias,” said Livia, looking down at her shoes.

Warder’s gaze cut to the rest of the group, staring at him silent and open-mouthed. He led Livia away. “You orchestrated this?” he said, his voice low.

“No.” Livia placed her hand on his arm. When he looked at it in distaste, she quickly took it away. “Elias sought her out. He is only a child.”

“He is old enough to know better,” said Warder. He left Livia standing there, heading straight for Elias’s city.

Despite his anger, he stopped short when he turned the corner and found them together. Elias’s small, blonde head was tilted towards Lucy’s dark one as they both examined the same section of toy train track. Elias was pointing something out, chattering away and Lucy nodded, smiling at him as she listened. For a moment, he regretted breaking them apart. He could tell that his mate was content, comforted by the child’s easy way of sharing his little world. But it couldn’t he helped. It could not be permitted.

“Elias,” he said. “Say goodbye.”

Elias’s head snapped up, narrowly missing Lucy’s chin. Lucy turned to look at him as well and he saw fear in her eyes, likely brought on by his sharp tone. She shrank back as he moved closer, stooping where the ceiling sloped. The reaction angered him, but right now, he was focused on Elias. The boy was frowning at him.

“We are building,” he said. “We are not done.”

“You are,” said Warder.

He reached out and pulled Lucy to her feet, She stumbled at the suddenness and kicked over a small building, watching in dismay as it shattered to pieces on the tiny streets below.

“I’m sorry, Elias,” she said. She turned on Warder. “He is only a little boy.”

“He is six.”

“Exactly,” said Lucy, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Goodnight, Lucy,” said Elias softly, looking stoically at the ruined building. “Do not worry. I will fix it.”

#

Warder brought her to a different room. Lucy thought that the bed was the same, but it was placed differently–the room was larger. There was even a stone wall jutting out into the space that created a separate dining room and a bedroom. The rugs on the floor were new and there was a small kitchen area with a counter and a sink.

“Where are we?”

“My rooms,” said Warder.

“This is different.”

“We are mated now. My rooms reflect that status.”

Warder permitted her to slip away from him and she inspected the space. She slipped into the small bathroom and turned the taps. After a short wait, the water actually flowed hot. She realized then what was truly different about the room.

“It’s warm in here,” she said, emerging from the bathroom. “Sort of like the nursery.”

“Yes,” said Warder. “I requested these rooms because as a former islander, you are unused to the climate inside the mountain. You will be more comfortable here.”

Lucy didn’t like being referred to as a former islander. Aware that Warder seemed to expect some acknowledgement of the gesture, she changed the subject.

“Why did you treat Elias that way?”

Warder, focused on reorganizing his work area in the new space, ignored her. But Lucy knew that he was unsettled. She could feel it.

“Warder?”

“I do not wish to speak of it.”

“I want to know.”

“Elias was my son.”

“What do you mean was? Who is his mother?”

“His mother is dead.”

“Even if his mother is dead, he is still your son. You treat your own child like that?” She did look at him now, accusation in her eyes. “You were cruel to him.”

“It does him no favors for me to pay him particular attention. If anything, it would make him a target,” said Warder. “Our children take their status from their mother. Elias’s mother is dead, so he will never be of high status among our people.”

“How can you stand to abandon your own child?” Lucy felt sorry for thoughtful, serious Elias. To lose his mother and then to be abandoned by his father was unthinkable. “What happened to Elias’s mother?”

“She was murdered,” said Warder. “As a consequence of her connection to me.”

To hear Warder speak so matter-of-factly of murder made her blood run cold. “You were mated?”

“No,” said Warder. “Lyric was not an omega.”

The news that Warder’s power made his mate a likely target was unwelcome.

Warder seemed to read her mind. “You will be safe,” said Warder. “I was young then. Now, even Hadren cannot touch me.”

“Hadren killed Elias’s mother?”

“I will protect you,” he said.

“If you had not taken me, I would be safe.”

“Yes,” agreed Warder. “As safe as any islander.”

She wondered if the choice of an islander had been deliberate on Warder’s part. Despite his talk of protecting her, the loss of an islander might mean less to him than the loss of one of his own. The thought made her feel oddly desolate, She turned on her side away from him.