A Promise on White Wings (Wiccan-Were-Bear) (3 page)

Her back continued to ache, but she pushed the pain aside.  As platters of food were passed and she filled her plate, she listened as the men in her den questioned the sanity of the Northern Ohio bear den for making alliances.  Clearly, they felt that bear dens should remain the only were-group in their area and not share with other groups.  She thought there was safety in numbers, and alliances meant that if one group was in trouble, then others might be able to help.  It made sense to her.

The food was delicious.  The meat was tender and rich, and the vegetables were flavorful.  Adriel’s den used grow lights in the winter and grew all their own food in the den.  What she’d seen as bordering primitive in some ways suddenly seemed very smart.  They could hold onto their roots and keep their people safe.

When the meal wound down, she found herself unable to sit any longer because the ache in her back continued to intensify.  She felt as if her bones were trying to shift inside her body or break through her skin.  She excused herself to go to her tent to lie down for a little while.

She left the main area and moved slowly back to her tent, measuring her steps carefully.  Quick movements jarred her bones and caused her pain.  She wove through the tents, moving farther away from the open area, holding onto her tears until she reached the tent so she could cry in private.

“Going somewhere, Nika?”  Mato’s voice cut through the haze of pain, and she gasped in alarm when he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.  He towered over.

“Let me go!”  She tried to wrench free from his iron grip, but his large hands wrapped tightly around both her upper arms.  He drew her off the ground and held her aloft, glaring down his long nose.

“You just had your last full moon celebration as an unmated female, Nika.”

“What are you talking about?  And don’t call me ‘Nika’!”  She kicked out at him, trying to get free, but he held her easily away from him.  Her back throbbed, and the tears she had successfully held in spilled over her cheeks.

“Oh, yes, my father agreed that you have spent more than enough time in mourning.  It’s time to accept that you are meant to be mine, and I
will
have you.”

Her world narrowed down to his mouth as he pulled her closer, and she squeezed her eyes shut, shouting, “Let me go!”  She dug her nails into his arms.  Then she heard the sound of rushing feet, and her eyes popped open as two hands gripped her arms under Mato’s hands and two other hands pushed him bodily away.  Mato’s hands ripped painfully away from her arms.

The hands belonged to the two men she’d seen earlier — the dark-haired one and the blond.  Each male held her with one hand and shoved Mato away with the other.  She took in a fast breath as heat flared through her at their touch, and her back began to burn and ache as if something was trying to break free.  Her skin prickled like tiny ants were biting her flesh.

The dark-haired man looked at the blond, and then they both looked at Mato as he growled, “Get off my woman.”

The men released her slowly and pushed her behind them protectively.  The blond settled into a defensive crouch.  “You touch a hair on her head, and I will send you to your maker in pieces.”

“You have no standing, cat,” Mato snarled.  “She belongs to our den and to me.  I’ve secured her place as my bride with my father, our King bear.”

Danika couldn’t believe that she’d been passed over to him as if she had no value.  Her heart clenched.  She was overwhelmed.

The dark-haired man said, “You will not touch her again.  She is under my protection as Prince falcon.  Overstep, and I’ll rain hell down from the heavens on you and your people.”

The blond’s fingers curled and claws sprang free.  He growled low and deep.  Mato straightened and glared at her.  His lip snarled as he spoke, “This isn’t over.”

He spun and stalked away, cursing under his breath.

The dark-haired one snorted.  “What an asshole.”

The two turned around at the same time and reached for her.  They each took one of her hands in theirs and crowded close.  Her senses were overwhelmed as she looked up at them.  Her skin tingled and heated where they touched her.  Their wild scents swirled around her and made her lightheaded.

“I’m Jesuit.  Are you alright, little bird?”

Her throat was impossibly dry.  She opened her mouth to speak, but all she could think about was how right their hands felt on her, how much she wanted to just fall into their arms.

The blond said, “I’m Chance,
katja.
”

Pain shot up her back like twin swords made of red-hot steel, and she gasped as she gripped their hands tightly before falling to her knees.  Darkness threatened but she fought it back, gritting her teeth and squeezing their hands for support.  She would
not
pass out right now.

“You’re as white as a sheet, little bird,” Jesuit said.  “Do you have a tent here in the den?”

Elizabeth and her husbands appeared, and she took one look at Danika and said, “Her guest tent is right here.”  They began to walk to the tent.

Jesuit picked up Danika, and when his arm brushed against her upper back, she went rigid in his arms and bit back a scream of pure agony.  Her vision blurred and she closed her eyes, feeling as if she might throw up.  She opened her eyes when Jesuit laid her on her side on the bed in the guest tent and gently rolled her to her stomach.

Chance knelt on the bed next to her and smoothed her hair from her face.  “Tell us what hurts,
katja
.”

“My back,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

Elizabeth said, “Ash, go get Shaylee.”

Jesuit stood next to the bed, one of his hands hand held hers, and he planted the other on his hip.  “Elizabeth, it’s nice to see you again.”

“You, too, Jes.”

“Would you mind finding my men and getting them here?  One of the bears from her den tried to hurt her, and I want him found immediately.”

Axe growled.  “I’ll get them.”

Danika’s head turned slowly to the side and she peered up at Jesuit.  He looked down at her and smiled when she squeezed his hand.  “What can I get you, little bird?”

“A new back,” she offered as a small attempt at humor.  Aside from the pain in her back, she felt as if something monumental was happening between the three of them and she was too out of it to know what it was.

Chance squeezed her other hand.  “It’ll be okay,
katja. 
We’ve got you.”

Had she ever felt so immediately cared for and accepted?  Not since Mama.  She squeezed both of their hands and offered them a watery
thank you
, and then closed her eyes, waiting for whoever Shaylee was to come and help.

Chapter 4

Jes held the delicate hand of the woman in pain on a bed in a guest tent in the bear den.  He’d never seen such a beautiful woman in his life, and she was his mate.  He wasn’t sure how he felt about the were-lion named Chance holding onto her other hand just as tightly as he was, but oddly enough, he didn’t feel the need to throw him out of the tent.  He’d think about that later.  After she was okay.

A young woman he’d never seen before came rushing into the tent with two more bears, and Elizabeth introduced her as Shaylee, a healing nymph.

She approached the bed slowly with her hands raised, her dark brown eyes full of concern.  “Can I touch your mate?  I might be able to fix whatever is wrong.”

Jes nodded, aware that Chance also nodded.  Jes stepped backwards closer to Danika’s head so he could give Shaylee access to her back.  He didn’t like the ashen look to his mate’s skin or the rigid way she lay on the bed.  Her eyes were red rimmed from crying, but she hadn’t shed a tear since he picked her up.  If she was in as much pain as he felt she was, then she was incredibly resilient.

And he didn’t even know her name.

“What’s your name, honey?” Shaylee asked, leaning forward to make eye contact with her.

“Danika.”

Jes liked that name. 
Danika
.

“Is this top special?  Do you mind if I cut it off to see your back?”

“No, go ahead,” she said harshly as a spasm wracked her petite body.

Her hand gripped his tighter, and Jes watched as one of the males who had come in with Shaylee handed her a sharp, thin blade and she began to cut through the seams at the side of the vest.

Jes looked over the bed to Chance and said, “We weren’t properly introduced.  I’m Jesuit Denali, Prince and leader of the falcon nest.”

“Chance Aroyo, eldest Prince of the were-lions.”

They stared at each other for a moment without saying anything, and then Chance glanced at the small crowd in the tent and said with a low voice, “I think we have a lot to discuss, but perhaps later?”

Jes nodded.  “Definitely.”

Shaylee worked the seams open at the sides and shoulders of the hide vest and gently lifted it off Danika’s back.

Danika groaned slightly, and Jes drew in a quick breath at the state of her back.  Two thick, dark purple lines ran down her back from her shoulder blades to her waist.  It looked as if she had been struck by something, but she hadn’t been in pain until he and Chance had touched her.

His gaze roamed her back and then landed on what appeared to be tattoos of some sort on either side of her upper back — two white wings.  His eyes widened as the events of two years ago ran through his mind.

He’d been so pissed that Elizabeth had chosen two strangers in the twin bears over him.  That she’d never even given him a shot at something more.  Embarrassment had quickly morphed into rage and he had stormed the bluffs with his men where the Wiccans were meeting to say his piece.  Elizabeth asked her grandmother, Lorene, who was the most powerful witch in the coven, to cast Jes’ future.  When they did, he’d seen two vastly different futures.  One, in which he raised his sword in anger at her mates, ended with Elizabeth being killed.  The other, if he chose not to lift his sword to fight for someone who didn’t want or love him, would see him finding a mate.

One of the Wiccan corners said, “The spirits of the air speak to me, Jesuit, Prince of the falcons.  There is one meant for you who comes on white wings. If you try to take Elizabeth, blood will coat your life forever and you will never find peace.  If you wait, the one meant for you will show herself in time and you will find true peace and happiness.  Like you’ve never known.  A King with untold power will spring from the union, your son, and unite two groups in harmony unlike any before.”

He’d sheathed his sword and left, unable to shake the image of his sword killing the woman he’d loved.

Later, he realized that he hadn’t loved her.  Not really.  What he’d had with her was one-sided, and love had to be returned to be real.  He’d been infatuated with her — her beauty and her power — and he’d felt insulted when she cast him aside.

He stared at the white wings on Danika’s back and realized that he was truly in the presence of his mate.  The one woman meant for him.  The last two years of carrying around a bit of hurt and anger from being rejected disappeared in a heartbeat.  Danika was his.  He’d been a fool to want anyone else.

And he also knew now why he didn’t mind Chance holding her hand.  He was her mate as well, and their two houses were going to join together through her.  And when she and Jes had a son, that child would be a powerful King.

Shaylee laid her fingers on Danika’s back, and Danika screamed in pain, her eyes squeezing shut and tears leaking from the corners.

Chance snarled angrily, and one of Shaylee’s bears pulled her away from the bed quickly and tucked her behind him.  “She meant no harm,” the male said.

Chance bared his fangs and then shook his head.  “I know that.”

Jes said, “Elizabeth?  Did you see her markings?”

“I noticed them earlier when I took her mended skirt to her.  They look familiar, but I don’t know from where.”

“The prophecy.”

Ash’s eyes went wide.  “Shit, really?”

Shaylee said, “What prophecy?”

Elizabeth explained what the other witch had seen but was kind enough to leave out the part where Jes had almost made a choice that ended in her death.  Jes looked across Danika’s body to Chance, who met his eyes with raised brows.

Before either of them could say anything, Shaylee said, “This kind of reminds me of that story you told me, Tavian.  About Yaala and her mates?”

“I don’t know that story.  Is it a legend?” Elizabeth asked.

Tavian relaxed from his protective stance slightly and pulled Shaylee into his arms.  “Yes.  It’s the story of a she-bear who never shifted.  Her family kicked her out of the den because it was shameful to have a non-shifting bear in the family.  She was left alone in the wilderness, unable to shift and hunt or defend herself.  Hunters came upon her and decided to rape and kill her, but two enormous bears came from the woods and killed the hunters and then shifted into their forms and declared that she was their mate.  They had sex with her at the same time and while they were all, um,
finishing
, she shifted into her bear form.  It turned out that she was what we would now call a latent shifter, or one who cannot shift until he or she has found his or her mate or mates.”

Shaylee smiled.  “It’s kind of like how Sleeping Beauty didn’t wake up until she was kissed by her Prince.  Yaala couldn’t shift because she needed the touch of her mates.  I don’t think I can help Danika, even with my healing powers.  She needs to shift.”

Chance said, “Are you saying that we need to have sex with her — at the same time — in order to help her shift?  Into what?”

“Whatever she is,” Elizabeth said, “is something with white wings.”

“There are no white-winged shifters,” Jes pointed out, but he couldn’t dismiss that the bruise-like marks on her back looked like wings in a way.

“There used to be,” Ash said.  “My people’s legends tell about large snow birds who humans mistook for angels when they shifted with only their white wings.”