The War Priest
Author: Ann Aguirre
Date: 2020-04-22 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Romance; Paranormal; Shapeshifters; Paranormal Romance; Urban Fantasy; Fantasy Romance; Suspense; Adventure
Description: Dour. Dutiful. Dogged. Personal tragedy drove Callum McRae to join the Order of Saint Casimir fifteen years ago; now he’s in charge of a hold he hasn’t lived in for years. Supplies are scarce, he has no knack for dealing with people, and the Gols are at the gates. To make matters worse, he’s also battling an attraction so powerful and forbidden that it imperils his very soul… Canny. Cheerful. Charming. Joss Bristow seems bright and cheerful, but she’s hiding a well of sorrow that fuels her music. She’s also prone to leaping before she looks, exactly how she ends up besieged at Burnt Amber. Tho

Dour. Dutiful. Dogged.

Personal tragedy drove Callum McRae to join the Order of Saint Casimir fifteen years ago; now he’s in charge of a hold he hasn’t lived in for years. Supplies are scarce, he has no knack for dealing with people, and the Gols are at the gates. To make matters worse, he’s also battling an attraction so powerful and forbidden that it imperils his very soul…

Canny. Cheerful. Charming.

Joss Bristow seems bright and cheerful, but she’s hiding a well of sorrow that fuels her music. She’s also prone to leaping before she looks, exactly how she ends up besieged at Burnt Amber. Though she wanted to get to know Callum better, she never imagined that falling for him could cost her life.

He’s the dark of night, and she’s the sun that shines just for him. Two wounded souls have never needed each other more, but between his holy vows and the devastation of war, the odds are stacked against them…

Table of Contents

Cover

About the Book

Title Page

Dedication

Copyright Page

Acknowledgments

The Story So Far

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Author’s Note

THE WAR PRIEST

Ann Aguirre

For everyone who’s been eagerly awaiting

the epic saga of ‘cat chases bear’

Copyright Information

THE WAR PRIEST

Copyright © 2020 by Ann Aguirre

EPUB Edition

Edited by Victoria West

Cover art by Kanaxa

Print design by Kanaxa

Proofreading by Lillie

Formatting by BB Ebooks

Content warning: This story contains violence, death, and mentions suicide (off-page).

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form whatsoever, without written permission from the author except for brief quotations embodied in critical reviews or articles.

Acknowledgments

First, thanks to the readers who have been eagerly awaiting Callum and Joss’s story since the beginning. It took me a long time to write, but at last I’m delivering their tale, and I hope you love them as much as I do. Grumpy bear monk + sunshine cat singer = true love.

Thanks to Karen Alderman and Fedora Chen for their beta-reading insights. Much appreciation to Rachel Caine, Bree Bridges, Lilith Saintcrow, Kate Smith, Melissa Blue, Kate Elliott, Yasmine Galenorn, Alyssa Cole, Suleikha Snyder, Donna J. Herren, Thea Harrison, and Charlotte Stein for emotional support during a difficult year.

So much appreciation to Kanaxa for the gorgeous cover art. My editor, Victoria West, polished this book beautifully, and thanks to Lillie for the wonderful proofreading. I couldn’t do it without the whole team.

Finally, thanks to my family. I appreciate their support more than I can say.

Please enjoy this story and look forward to the rest. Only one book left! Are you excited for the epic conclusion? Thanks for sticking with me and keep telling paranormal romance fans about the series.

The Story So Far…

In The Leopard King, Latent shifter Pru Bristow went after the pride leader, Dominic Asher, who had holed up at the seer’s retreat after the death of his wife, also Pru’s best friend. With the conclave approaching, Ash Valley couldn’t afford to let Dom’s second, Slay, run the show. It was rocky going, and they were attacked by Eldritch assassins. In the furious fight that followed, Pru finally shifted and saved Dom’s life.

In time, she convinced Dom to come back to Ash Valley because the fate of the pride rested on completing the conclave and renewing the Pax Protocols (a peace treaty between supernatural communities). Her success didn’t come without a cost, however. She agreed to become Dom’s mate and lead the pride alongside him.

Their return startled a lot of people, Slay most of all, because he’d always thought that Pru would wait for him forever. Since he didn’t want her when she couldn’t shift, she didn’t want him once she could, and Pru devoted herself to working with Dom to make the conclave go smoothly.

That wasn’t in the cards. Though the attendants all arrived safely, the Pine Ridge wolf pack and the Burnt Amber bear clan hated Lord Talfayen of the Eldritch, and nobody knew what to make of Prince Alastor of the Golgoth. Everything that could go wrong, did, including the murder of an Eldritch envoy. Talks broke down, culminating in treachery, but the Eldritch Lord’s plot went awry, as the bombs he’d set detonated too soon, catching his own people in the trap. King Tycho of the Golgoth attacked thereafter and it was all Ash Valley could do to hold.

Meanwhile, Dom and Pru tried to keep things together while falling in love. They did battle with their enemies and each other, before eventually admitting their true feelings. Slay vanished mysteriously and the leading couple finally had a wedding party, once Ash Valley was safe. Soon after, the visiting dignitaries departed, and the Numina prepared for war.

In The Demon Prince, Dr. Sheyla Halek reluctantly agreed to take charge of Prince Alastor Vega and work on synthesizing the medicine he needed for his rare illness. Since she preferred research to treating actual patients anyway, she didn’t hate the idea, but she was quite annoyed to be saddled with someone she considered an enemy. For his part, Prince Alastor liked the prickly doctor at once and spent a good deal of his time trying to charm her.

They left Ash Valley together—with her ostensibly in the role of company medic—and became closer through an arduous journey to Tycho’s likely next target: the unprotected city of Hallowell. Alastor tried his best to woo Sheyla, and while she wasn’t susceptible to his brand of charm, she did admire his determination to do the right thing for his people. Slowly, they drew together, because he understood her, and she—without realizing it—quietly partook of Golgoth courtship rites.

Eventually, they decided to embark upon a wartime romance because their passion could no longer be denied. They’d only stay together until Hallowell was safe. Afterward, they’d go their separate ways, because Sheyla belonged in Ash Valley, and Alastor had heavy responsibilities to his people. Since she couldn’t have a relationship, even a brief one, with a patient in her care, Sheyla turned treatment over to a colleague and focused on researching Alastor’s medicine.

Neither one cared to admit how deeply they’d fallen for one another, and the risky romance only intensified, set against the backdrop of impending doom. When Tycho’s forces invaded, it seemed like all might be lost, but Alastor eventually won against incredible odds, mounting a successful defense of a critical foothold in the war effort, though not without painful loss and sacrifice. He also secured the allegiance of Tycho’s surviving forces, which was when Sheyla left him, as per their original agreement.

Realizing he couldn’t live without her, Alastor chased her down and officially proposed in front of her family, offering to make her his queen once he liberated Golgerra. Though her relatives were skeptical at first, eventually they agreed, and the demon prince was set to live happily ever after with his physician-queen. This decision meant rejecting other marital offers, however, which would have a fascinating impact on the war effort elsewhere.

In The Wolf Lord, Thalia Talfayen finally rose to power, but with enemies all around, she realized she needed to make a strategic political marriage to cement her position and claim the Silver Throne. After her first choices turned her down, Thalia was left with the roguish leader of Pine Ridge, Raff Pineda.

About the only thing Raff and Thalia had in common was regard for their people, though they certainly had different ways of showing that care. That led them to pursue a marital alliance, which got off to a shaky start due to Raff’s propensity for breaking the rules. When the first activity was disrupted by a vicious attack by House Manwaring and Raff was gravely injured, Thalia acted swiftly and decisively to save his life. On his recovery, Raff committed to the marriage of convenience, pledging aid to House Talfayen in return for their support later when the war reached Pine Ridge.

This wedding was anything but convenient, however. Someone attempted to murder everyone at the head table, a tragedy prevented only by Raff’s acute sense of smell. Sadly, Lileth, Thalia’s aide, was fatally poisoned. A grief-stricken and enraged Thalia was determined to punish those who helped rival Eldritch leader Ruark Gilbraith infiltrate the fortress. With some help from her new right hand, Ferith, Thalia soon discovered secret tunnels in and out of the Daruvar fortress. Meanwhile Thalia’s former head Noxblade, Gavriel, joined forces with tiger shifter Magda to search for both the missing Ash Valley second, Slay, and the insurgents loyal to Thalia’s traitorous father.

Unfortunately, Thalia’s plan to act as bait to uncover the enemy succeeded a little too well, leaving both Thalia and an injured Raff cut off in the tunnels. They fought their way out and took refuge from a sudden snowstorm in a rustic Animari hideaway. The shared danger heightened their burgeoning attraction and they finally consummated their marriage. Realizing they had an opportunity to flush out the traitor in their midst, Thalia and Raff worked with tiger shifter Titus to retake Daruvar as their feelings for one another deepened.

Titus pretended to be a bounty hunter returning to their bodies, and a bloody battle ensued. Once they won the day, Thalia discovered that her ‘cousin’ Tirael was a traitor who had staged a coup in Thalia’s absence. Just before Tirael’s execution, the woman told Thalia that they were, in fact, half-sisters, courtesy of old Lord Talfayen. Thalia silenced Tirael with a personal execution, but her problems were far from over.

The other houses were still in open rebellion, and her own people seemed to be doubting her fitness to lead, as they didn’t wish to send children to train as Noxblades until the succession was settled. Thalia tried to talk it over with Raff, but he had a distinctly Animari outlook, which led to conflict between the two lovers. To further complicate matters, a young wolf named Sky awakened as a Seer and required Raff’s comfort and attention. Thalia stumbled on an intimate scene and misread the situation, leading her to make a drastic decision.

Thalia embarked on a suicide mission to triumph or die. She witnessed the hardship her people had experienced first-hand and learned more about the growing problem of a strange drug called gray tar. At long last, Thalia discovered her gift during the hunt-kill mission inside Braithwaite, Ruark’s stronghold. As she’d left without consulting Raff, he could only help from afar by sending drones to act as a distraction. That feint was enough to save her. With Raff’s air support, Thalia and Ferith took on House Gilbraith and won, whereupon Thalia broadcast a message of conquest all over Eldritch lands.

A triumphant Thalia returned to Daruvar with Ruark Gilbraith’s head to claim the Silver Throne as the new queen. Other Eldritch houses quickly dispatched vassals to pledge their loyalty and various Animari and Golgoth dignitaries came to pay their respects as well at her coronation. That success gave Thalia the courage to claim her man and she professed her love for Raff, who had been hers all along. But with a marriage of convenience transforming to one of true love, there were still more seeming impossibilities yet to occur…

In The Shadow Warrior, the story overlaps chronologically with The Wolf Lord. At the start of The Shadow Warrior, Noxblade Gavriel d’Alana (aka Death’s Shadow) and Animari security head and tiger-shifter Magda Versai reluctantly joined forces. Molded since childhood to be the perfect deadly weapon wielded by Eldritch royalty, Gavriel was devoted to Princess Thalia Talfayen to the exclusion of all else. The life of a Noxblade was lethal and lonely, and the loss of his brother Oriel in a fight with the Animari, further isolated Gavriel.

Animari Wolf leader Raff Pineda was on the verge of marrying Thalia, so to his displeasure, Gavriel was forced into close contact with Magda. For her part, although she was ostensibly guarding Raff as he courted the princess, Magda had a secondary personal mission – find out what happened to fellow cat Slay from Ash Valley who disappeared during a battle. Did Slay leave voluntarily to conspire with the enemy or was he taken captive? Surprisingly, Gavriel offered to help track Slay in the surrounding Eldritch territory.

Despite their outward differences, Gavriel and Magda were both loners tormented by their own secrets and hidden desires. Magda was haunted by a curse that kills any potential mate that she loves. Having lost two people to this horrific curse, Magda knew she was destined to be alone. With the princess no longer needing him, Gavriel figured there was not much reason for him to live, so why not seek a glorious death? Gavriel was also isolated by having had to keep his submissive sexual preferences a secret throughout his life. However, Gavriel’s deepest desires were revealed to Magda during an intense sparring session. Despite herself, Magda was intrigued and attracted to Gavriel and enjoyed playfully baiting him.

During their hunt for evidence that Slay had been transported through Eldritch territory, Magda and Gavriel were forced to fight some insurgent Eldritch loyal to Thalia’s deceased father. Ominously, those attackers appeared to be zombie-like killing machines. Finding out what transformed these warriors and who was behind it, became an imperative. Their enforced closeness gave Magda and Gavriel the unique opportunity to see beneath the masks they showed the world, to the damaged individuals underneath—and the more they discovered, the more attracted they became. To make sure her curse did not engage, Magda figured that a sexual liaison based on friendship and not the heart would be perfect. For the first time in his life, Gavriel felt free enough to experiment with his sexual desires.

As their hunt continued, they discovered a small group of Eldritch, starving and on the run from a civil war between various houses. But the real danger came from the Dead-eyed warriors who descended on Ancalen. These Deadeyes took a drug, gray tar, that appeared to remove their souls (or free will) and leave them merciless killing machines. Unable to abandon the survivors, Magda and Gavriel escorted the small band to Kelnora and safety even though it meant losing Slay’s trail. As Magda and Gavriel spent more time together protecting each other’s backs, the trust between them grew so that they felt comfortable sharing their pasts and the events that shaped them; including Magda’s curse and how Gavriel and his brother Oriel were abandoned to be raised by the Noxblade Guild.

Magda and Gavriel headed to Ancalen to learn more about the Deadeyes. Once there, they fought and destroyed the Deadeyes they found, but more importantly Magda discovered the drug was an Animari medicine from the Burnt Amber lab. Someone in the bear-shifter clan was illegally providing the medicine to the Eldritch. Unfortunately, during the fight Gavriel was badly wounded and poisoned. In a desperate attempt to save him, Magda gave him a transfusion using her own blood.

No sooner had Gavriel recovered when they received a desperate message from Daruvar informing them that Thalia’s cousin Tirael turned traitor and that Thalia was undertaking a perilous quest to kill her enemy Ruark Gilbraith. They returned to the fortress to await the outcome of Thalia’s dangerous mission. Thalia was triumphant and claimed the Silver Throne as queen. During Tirael’s coup attempt, Lileth, Thalia’s aide, was killed. Gavriel learned that Lileth left him a letter. In that letter was the confession that she was his mother and that he and his brother were born of her rape by Lord Talfayen. The news meant that Thalia and Tirael were his half-sisters. Devastated and angry, Gavriel turned to Magda for comfort and the two of them decided to leave to finish their previous task and find the rogue loyalist stronghold.

After informing Callum McRae, War Priest of Burnt Amber, what they had learned about gray tar and the traitor in his midst, they returned to Kelnora and heard of a suspicious group gathering on the Finger Islands. Magda and Gavriel were transported to the island where they discovered that it used to be Perlsea, the stronghold where secret Eldritch experiments led to the creation of the Golgoth race. With the element of surprise on their side, Magda and Gavriel fought and destroyed the rebel raider’s enclave. Gavriel blew up the stronghold, while Magda took care of the guards. However, Magda was shot during the fight and nearly died from poisoning. Magda managed to survive and reunite with a desperately worried Gavriel. As they waited for their boat to return, they had life and love affirming sex, which terrified Magda as she realized that her love for Gavriel triggered her curse. When Gavriel didn’t die on the morning he was supposed to, he told Magda that when the Seer spoke of the curse and said “only death” could stand up to the shade that haunted her, he meant Gavriel, who is known as “Death’s Shadow”. Neither Magda nor Gavriel wanted to return to their previous, so they decided to start over, together.

1.

Until Joss Bristow laid eyes on Callum McRae, she didn’t believe in love at first sight. Her entire body shouted yes, him, he’s the one.

Then she found out he was a monk, consecrated to the Order of Saint Casimir. Now, that was a bad day, but it got worse when Ash Valley exploded, and nothing had been the same since. Life had been a series of bad and worse scenarios since the conclave failed, and she’d rarely felt more useless, tagging along to Thalia Talfayen’s coronation to offer the gift of song.

Because that’s all I can do, all I’m good at.

If she was honest, she’d also wanted to see Callum McRae again, not that he ever spent more than forty seconds with her if he could help it. Earlier, at the ceremony, she had sung a gorgeous rendition of “Fit for a Queen”, and now she was looking for him, but for an enormous man, he had the uncanny ability to disappear.

While Joss was searching, she ran into Mags—and gods, it felt like forever since the security chief had left Ash Valley. “Have you seen Callum?” she asked.

The other woman was observant, but Mags shook her head. “Sorry, I’m on the hunt myself. I have some intel to relay.”

“Oh? Any good gossip?” By Mags’s expression, that was certainly not the case. “Yikes, sorry I asked.”

Mags sighed. “It’s related to the circulation of a drug that’s wreaking havoc in the Eldritch population. Seems like it’s coming from Burnt Amber, too, which makes it a bear problem.”

“He has enough on his plate,” Joss said, wishing she could do something. For Callum, for anyone, actually.

Unlike her cousin, Pru, she didn’t have a hidden knack for leadership. She had a beautiful voice and she’d recorded a few songs, made a modest living from it, but that wasn’t very useful, currently. And unlike Mags, she wasn’t the pride badass, either. Her tendency to look on the bright side might come in handy, Joss supposed, but during dire times, people got tired of those who were endlessly chipper and full of sunshine. They started wondering if her mood was chemically enhanced and suggested random drug testing.

“I’m aware,” Mags answered, “but facts are facts.”

That ended the conversation, and Joss watched Mags round the corner before resuming her own search. Like most Animari, she had a heightened sense of smell, but there were so many people wandering around that the scent trails had been crossed until it was tough to tell where Callum was. More than once, she found where he had been; he didn’t linger in one place for long.

If she understood him at all, he would be leaving today. The Golgoth were marching on Burnt Amber, massing near the borders, and there had already been skirmishes. Callum must be anxious to get back, to ensure that his people were safe. His commitment to duty was one of the things she admired about him; Joss hadn’t told anyone about her crush, but she was easy to read, so people were already starting to tease her. That had to stop.

She’d accepted that she couldn’t have what she’d first wanted from Callum. Untouchable described him perfectly—and she got that—but she hadn’t given up on the idea that they could be friends. There had to be a reason why she’d had such a visceral reaction to him. Maybe he was destined to be her bestie or something.

Not that he was cooperating at all.

Though she didn’t find the head of the bear clan, she ran across a few of his people in the courtyard. Unabashedly curious, she listened to their conversation, lingering nearby with the pretext of checking her phone. They were still scrambling the signal so a close inspection would prove that she was eavesdropping, but she was interested enough in bear gossip not to mind potential exposure.

“It’s bad,” the first one said softly.

“And it’ll get worse when we go back. This is likely the last trip we’ll be able to make before the Golgoth cut us off. Is Callum working on any of the old alliances? Before Beren died…” The woman let out a long, mournful sigh, as if she couldn’t stand to finish that sentence.

Does that mean Burnt Amber doesn’t approve of the way Callum’s running things? Joss knew that Beren had been venerated, and his loss must have been a great blow to the bear clan. Though Callum had been technically Beren’s closest heir, nobody ever expected him to take charge, considering his commitment to the Order of Saint Casimir. Beren had been contemplating a bond with a new mate—when his life ended in a fiery explosion, courtesy of the treacherous Lord Talfayen.

“War is hell,” the first responded. “But I do wish it wasn’t so damn depressing. Martial law is sapping all the joy from life, along with my will to fight.”

“Callum is so strict. If only we were allowed some form of entertainment,” the second woman admitted. “But the order is all about self-sacrifice and discipline, and that life is all Callum knows.”

The first woman groaned. “Would it really be worse to let the Golgoth win?”

“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that!” The second woman glanced about with a worried expression and focused on Joss, loitering nearby. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you spying, cat?”

Joss tilted her head, pretending to be casual. “Not on purpose, but I did hear you talking. It occurs to me that your troops could use a morale boost.”

“What’s it to you?” The first woman seemed inclined to be belligerent, but the second put up a conciliatory hand.

“You have something in mind?”

“Well, I’m a singer… I’m not sure if Callum would allow it, but I could come to the hold and do a show or two, something to buoy everyone’s spirits.” The offer popped out before she could stop it, but she had no regrets.

This might be a worthwhile way for her to contribute to the war effort. She wasn’t a leader, a healer, or a fighter, but maybe she could inspire through her music, offer soldiers the strength to fight on against the invading Golgoth. Joss bit her lip, hoping the bear warriors liked the idea because she couldn’t sell Callum on it without their support. Intuition told her he’d bluster against the suggestion on principle, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, and all that.

Just then, Callum arrived on the greensward. Joss’s silly heart fluttered at the sight of him. He was a roaring fire of a man, a big stone hearth that you could cuddle up to and stay warm for days. If not for his thunderous scowl, it would be impossible to refrain from hugging him. She loved his ridiculous height and his broad shoulders, his deep chest, and his wild beard. Most of all, she adored his flecked hazel eyes with their black lashes, the tips bleached gold from Callum’s tendency to frown at the sun. Currently, he was surrounded by the rest of the bear entourage, and by the look of them, they were all ready to roll out.

The first woman smiled broadly, winked at the second, and said, “Good news, everyone! I’ve booked some live entertainment.”

“What the hell,” Callum said, glaring at Joss as if she’d instigated an insurrection beneath his nose.

Fair, as that was sort of true.

“Entertainment?” One of the men repeated the word in a questioning tone and aimed a flirtatious look at Joss. “What kind of fun are you offering, little kitty?”

Callum growled deep in his throat. “So help me, Garven, if you say anything more perverse, I will put you through the wall. We don’t have time for this shit.”

Joss decided that was like he’d defended her honor and beamed a bright smile in his general direction. “Thank you! I had no idea you were interested in guarding my virtue.” To Garven, she added, “I’m a singer. And yes, I do take requests.”

The war priest blinked a few times like her smile carried the same impact as a fist upside the head and the skin visible above his beard went ruddy. He recovered swiftly and snapped, “Don’t encourage him!”

“There’s no time to argue,” Garven said with a faint sigh. “We’ll be lucky to get home before the next strike.”

Callum was about to lay down the law regarding Joss Bristow, the proper definition of a distraction if ever there was one, but his phone beeped. Not an actual message, as the Eldritch firewalls were solid, but a backdoor protocol that allowed a warning to slip through. If they’d activated this application, things must be dire indeed at Burnt Amber.

Thankfully, he was done with diplomatic nonsense, and he had nothing further to say to Joss. She often contrived to be in his vicinity, though he had no notion why she enjoyed flustering him so. His demeanor discouraged most, and the rest of them were frightened off by his impatient scowl.

“Let’s go, you lot. We’re loading the vehicles and leaving in ten minutes. We need to get home so we can seal our borders and activate all our defenses.” He sounded grim, even to his own ears, but like it or not, no help was coming.

The other Animari had their own problems and the situation was dead messy for the Eldritch as well. Though the Golgoth had suffered heavy losses near Hallowell, the main force remaining was mustering on the edges of Burnt Amber lands. If the Gols took the hold, they’d also lay claim to the factory that could turn the tide of the war.

We have to hold. There is no other option. But the cost would be high, perhaps too much so.

In truth, it already had been. Some days, when Callum awoke, he still couldn’t believe that Beren was gone. I was his heir, but I was never supposed to inherit. His world was constantly spinning these days, just an endless cycle of dire news and grim necessity. He’d lost the brotherhood where he offered daily devotions and took comfort in the fact that his life had meaning. Those rituals were more than repeated patterns; they also imposed order on one prone to tumbling into chaos, if left to his own devices.

Callum wondered if the clan had any notion just how tempted he was daily to cast aside all prudence and strategy. Every single day, he wanted to stomp out of Burnt Amber and bellow a challenge at the nearest elite Gol and demand they settle this shit once and for all. If he did that and died, he’d leave his people helpless, leaderless, all over again.

And my cousin isn’t ready. Hell, I wasn’t either.

Whether he was the best person for the job or not, it hardly mattered anymore. Callum was all they had. At least he’d studied battle tactics as part of his theology course, reading about how the order had participated in various conflicts over the years. That was more than his cousin knew about heading up the clan during wartime. Once this was all over, he could step down and go back to his quiet, contemplative life.

Or at least, he clung to that tantalizing thought when shit got so tough that he could hardly stand his own situation. With a quiet snarl, he swung into the lead vehicle, trusting that the rest of his men would see to their own leave-taking. He’d made it clear how long they had; only fools would test him past a certain point.

With little fanfare, they put Daruvar behind them with the slow grinding of ancient gates. It was a long, long ride to the Burnt Amber borders, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone, but as soon as they passed beyond the range of the Eldritch signal jammers, his phone lit up with urgent messages. The Rover was quiet, as the troops let him focus on the anxious queries scrolling on his screen.

Finally, he called Renna, who was ostensibly managing things in his absence. More like, she’d been urging other people to pester him for hours. “Get everyone in the room. If you want my input, let’s do it all at once.”

She immediately cowered at the sight of his face. Now that was good for a man’s mood, wasn’t it? Though it wasn’t like he’d ever been adroit at charming people, Callum didn’t think he was always so…whatever he was that made people look like that. Renna’s eyes shone too bright as she blinked back tears.

Hell, I didn’t even say what I wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just… I really don’t know what to do. None of us were alive the last time…”

The conclave failed? Before it existed?

However Renna had intended to complete the sentence, she didn’t speak further, leaving Callum to fill the silence. Thankfully his beard hid the clench of his jaw as he battled resentment. How old does she think I am? I’m lost without Beren too and hiding my incompetence in anger.

But he couldn’t admit that. Not to anyone, ever. Even if I’m not enough, I’m all they have.

“How close are they?” he asked.

There was no need to elaborate. With the Gols massing, their intentions weren’t in question. It was a matter of when they’d attack, not if. After their ignominious defeat at Hallowell, they had to have bear ordinance to compensate for the troops they’d lost, both to death and defection.

“Fifty kilometers, but they’re breaking camps. If they push, they’ll be here before dawn tomorrow.”

Quickly Callum checked their arrival time and privately cursed the fact that he’d weighed the political benefit of showing good will that he didn’t feel regarding Thalia and Raff’s wedding. Not that he bore them any malice—he just found it a colossal waste of time when he had precious little of it to spare.

“Did the engineers complete the minefield?”

“It’s set, but we can’t go live until you’re back,” Renna answered.

He thumped his fist on the back of the driver’s seat. “Don’t put us in a ditch or slam into a tree but get us home as soon as possible.”

“Understood,” Garven said.

He might be a feckless flirt, but he was also hell on wheels. The vehicle jumped in response to Garven’s demand and Callum tried to gentle his expression. Hopefully Renna could hold her tears until they terminated the call.

“Did you catch that? We’ll be back before they attack.” He couldn’t bring himself to promise because shit went wrong all the time. “But…if something happens to delay us, then activate all defenses. All of them.”

Renna gaped, her eyes wide, tears forgotten for the moment. “You’ll be locked out if I do that.”

“And so will they.”

Nobody objected, though it was a death sentence. Twenty tired bear soldiers, split between two Rovers against the collective might of the Gol empire? His mouth quirked in a reluctant smile. There were legends about bear berserkers who could take out five times their number, but even a performance like that wouldn’t save them. This time, they needed to be fast, not fierce.

“I understand,” Renna said heavily.

“Don’t fret too much. With Garven at the wheel, this Rover is practically flying. And…” He angled a look behind him. “Vehicle two is keeping pace. Try to keep everyone calm until I get there.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks. McRae out.” He shouldn’t be so gruff with her.

Callum knew damn well that Beren hadn’t chosen Renna for her competence. She was his uncle’s pick, however, and would’ve been Beren’s mate if the old bear had finished courting her before…well. That left Callum and Renna in an awkward, uneasy relationship, as she might’ve been his aunt by marriage, but she was also younger than he was. It had seemed right, respectful even, to leave her in charge when he went to Daruvar, but maybe he should have picked someone more seasoned…

Eh, whatever.

Tired of everything, he tilted his head back and went to sleep. When he woke, long hours later, they were racing toward the hold with Gols in sight behind. Groggy at first, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but apparently Renna’s nerve must have held. Though it was close as hell, she seemed to be watching their progress via remote and activating defenses behind them—with only seconds to spare.

As the grid went up, the Gols abruptly broke pursuit when the lead vehicle went up in a fireball, taken out by bear mines. Whoops rang through the Rover as they cruised into the hold. Good work. Seems like Beren chose well.

Exhausted and sore, he clambered out of the vehicle and stopped, unable to believe his eyes when Joss Bristow hopped out of the second Rover.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he bellowed.

She lifted her chin and pointed at Garven. “I was invited, remember?”

2.

“I’m so glad you made it back in time.” A stunningly beautiful woman hurried out of a large building nearby, and Joss could only stare at her in wonder.

Before, she’d thought Dalena Asher, Dom’s first mate, was the loveliest person who’d ever existed, but this woman rivaled her with a spill of silken black hair, melting brown eyes, and golden skin that practically shimmered in the early spring sunlight. Her features were symmetrical and delicate, brows perfectly arched, lashes thick and lush, framing soulful eyes and a prettily curved mouth. Thankfully, her arrival also distracted Callum, who was likely about to roar his head off over Joss’s presence.

This might be the most reckless thing I’ve ever done.

Joss admitted that silently, even while acknowledging her own tendency to leap before she looked. Of all the Bristow cousins, she’d gotten herself into the most scrapes, taken the most risks, and generally been accounted a cheerful nuisance by most of her relations, a complete contrast to her careful cousin, Pru. Now, she was standing in the middle of Burnt Amber with only the clothes on her back and no plan for what came next. She couldn’t even explain why she’d jumped into the Rover along with everyone else, just that it seemed like the thing to do at the time.

She doubted Callum would be amused by that explanation.

“You did well, Renna.”

Wait, did Callum McRae just praise someone? Joss stared as the woman offered a tentative smile. “I only did as you said and waited as long as I could. They can’t strike while our defensive grid holds.”

“We’re safe enough for now, but we’re completely cut off,” Callum said grimly.

Shit. That sounded as if she couldn’t go home, even if she wanted to. And she hadn’t told anyone before she left Daruvar. She wondered if Burnt Amber had jammers like the Eldritch to prevent the Golgoth from hacking into their communications. If so, she might not be able to send a message to her family for a while. Since he didn’t want her here in the first place, she wouldn’t piss him off by asking for special treatment.

The way Callum regarded the beautiful woman was rather different, though. Sort of tentative and gentle, as if he didn’t know precisely how he ought to behave. Joss took the respite their exchange offered to study her surroundings. This was her first visit to Burnt Amber, and she hadn’t known precisely what to expect coming in. Not to mention, the ride had been rough as hell with the Golgoth troops chasing them, and she hadn’t seen much while jolting around the back of the Rover.

Like Ash Valley, Burnt Amber had protective walls, but unlike her home, they hadn’t been shaped via masonry. No, this was more like the giant stones had been set by some ancient earth god, arranged upright to protect the oblong space within, affixed through heat, not mortar, as though the edges had fused with unimaginable volcanic force. The stone itself was dark, like basalt, but it was also marbled with shades of umber and gold.

I understand now why they call this place Burnt Amber.

On some level, the beauty spoke to her, whispering of barely tamed spaces and the same wildness that had always whispered in her blood. As for the buildings that made up the inside of the hold, they were stark and imposing, shaped from the same rock that formed the walls. Frescoes were carved above the doors and windows, stylized scenes that she couldn’t interpret from this distance, though she wanted to look closer.

Moving would draw Callum’s wrath down on her sooner, though, so Joss stayed quiet. There was a withered garden on one side of the hold, large enough that it likely supplied everyone who lived here. Here, she could imagine they existed in a land untouched by time. There were no signs of any of the mines or security tech that Burnt Amber was famous for, and she couldn’t spot any wires or cables that would power the imposing structures. Others came out of nearby buildings to form a welcoming party, but they didn’t interrupt Callum either.

“You didn’t hesitate to blame this on me, I notice.” The flirtatious bear, Garven, stepped softly to her side, canting his head with a teasing smile.

“Not true. I merely stated a fact.”

“One that will get me in trouble with that bearded devil,” he muttered. “But I expect you’ll entertain me enough that I won’t regret it.”

Joss narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“With your music,” he clarified. “That’s what you promised, isn’t it? Songs to lighten our grim and weary hearts.”

“I’ll do my best.” She didn’t especially want to talk about her impulsive decision to volunteer a concert for people who probably had much bigger concerns. “This may seem like a silly question, but you do have electricity here?”

Garven followed her glance to the gabled roofs. “You can’t see them from this vantage, but we acquire significant power from solar panels. The lines between buildings are buried. The clan chief didn’t want a lot of modern nonsense mucking up a perfectly foreboding aspect.”

“I think it’s lovely,” she said sincerely.

“Truly? Ash Valley is much more modern. Burnt Amber is like a medieval town in comparison.”

Joss grinned. “No, that would be Daruvar.”

Garven offered an easy smile in response. “Fair point. You want to meet some of the others? Callum will be busy with Renna for a while. She’s trying, but she finds him…” Garven grimaced, as if he couldn’t find the right word and settled on, “Difficult.”

“Who is she?” She probably shouldn’t indulge her curiosity, but she was fascinated by the beautiful woman who made Callum look so conflicted, impatient and gentle at the same time.

Garven leaned in close, as if to impart some gossip, and that sharpened her interest to absurd levels. “She’s the one Beren was trying to bond with before he died. He’d long wanted a direct heir, not his sister’s son, but it never worked out with his first mate.”

She’d known that Beren was a widower. “It seems that Callum doesn’t quite know what to make of her.”

“True enough. She’s not quite his relation, but not exactly a stranger either. And I suppose it’s no news to you that he’s no patience with delicate situations.”

“When you have only a hammer, all problems look like a nail,” she suggested.

Garven laughed. “Just so. You’re as witty as you are pretty, fair one.”

That was a charming compliment, and she smiled to acknowledge that, but Garven didn’t make her heart quicken. Nobody had, no matter how kind or charming they were, until she saw Callum McRae at the first conclave. She tried not to watch him surreptitiously because that was a bit creepy, but it was tough. Her eyes kept skating back in his direction, until she made a point of turning her back.

Don’t watch him. Don’t be pathetic. You’re not here for him. You’re here to lift the soldiers’ spirits. That’s all.

“You said something about meeting the others?” she prompted.

Garven introduced her around to those who had accompanied Callum to Daruvar. Most of the names and faces slid away, but she did recognize the two women who had accused her of eavesdropping in the courtyard at Daruvar. Emilia was the taller one, broadly built with a ruddy face and orange hair while Trini was small, compact, and dark-skinned with pretty braids and bright brown eyes.

“I hope you’re worth the scolding we get over this,” Trini said, laughing.

Smiling, Joss made small talk, silently wishing she had a heavier coat. Though it was spring, it wasn’t exactly warm. None of the bears seemed to mind.

Against her volition, her gaze went to Callum, and she saw the precise moment when he recalled her existence, for his entire countenance darkened, and he leveled a hard stare in her direction, then he came at her like a storm. The crowd parted for him on two sides, and everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Apart from Garven, Trini, and Emilia, nobody had acknowledged or greeted her. It seemed that Callum ruled with an iron fist, or at the least, they feared displeasing him.

“You can’t be here,” he snapped.

“Yet I am here. From my observations, departure will not be an option until the Golgoth are defeated.” A rumble of support came from the bears milling nearby, as if her pronouncement heartened them. Encouraged, she went on, “You might as well be a good host and give me a tour, for I’m not going anywhere.”

Callum had no parameters for responding to such an ultimatum.

In the order, people respected authority. They followed the rules. And here in the hold, most were terrified of him, stemming from his thunderous appearance if not for anything he’d actually done. They lived in fear of him erupting in a ferocious rage, but what they didn’t understand? He’d joined the damned order to get that part of himself in check and he’d succeeded too.

Now he had a fearless little lynx glaring at him with green eyes snapping sparks, and everyone was waiting to see if he’d tolerate such behavior. Only she wasn’t part of his hold, and he didn’t have the right to demand respect from her. Hell, Ash Valley wasn’t even allied with Burnt Amber anymore, so he’d look a right and proper ass if he started shouting about the deference due to him.

All too conscious of their audience, he managed not to react to the provocation of her tone, which must be intentional. Callum clenched his jaw and spoke with difficulty. “That is certainly true enough, but I’ve little experience being gracious, so brace for disappointment.”

“Your best is always good enough,” she said in such a gentle tone that her voice hit him strange and sideways, like a club to the back of his head.

Though she was pretty in a delicate, feline way, it was her voice that always sent him running in the other direction. From the first time he heard her sing, he’d known that the sirens of legend did indeed exist, and they must sound precisely like Jocelyn Bristow. He’d been tempted enough to find out about her, learn her name, and the denizens of Ash Valley had whispered stories, filled his ears with tales of her wildness, and he couldn’t allow that curiosity to flourish. Callum had to stamp it out with ruthless vigilance. Otherwise, curiosity might sink its roots in, growing into the deliciously poisonous flower of fascination. If he let it happen, he could find himself in that fearful place again, knowing only desire and obsession.

Aware he was staring at her, he snapped, “A pretty fable.” He beckoned Joss, speaking over his shoulder as he stomped off. “The rest of you, disperse. You’ll hear the songbird soon enough.” To her, he added, “Come along then!”

If they whispered about his loss of authority, they didn’t do so until he left earshot at least. His shoulders fell and once more, all he wanted was to return to the comforting routine of life at the monastery: oat porridge, devotions, manual labor, lighting candles, meditations, weekly spiritual debate. Once a month, the brothers hunted in their shifted forms for meat necessary to survive.

Nothing about his new life was routine or comforting, and he didn’t know how long he could keep his temper in check. To make matters worse, he knew people feared him. They needed wisdom, comfort, and reassurance, not the constant pressure of fearing that a single misstep might set him off like an imperfect homemade explosive device.

“Burnt Amber is incredible,” she said then.

Oddly, she appeared to mean it, gazing about with genuine interest. And it seemed as if his brooding silence made no impact on her either. They had passed several buildings without him telling her what anything was or where they were headed, yet she didn’t object to that, either.

What the hell is wrong with this woman?

“That’s the recreational facility,” he informed her. “Workout rooms, communal bathhouse with sauna and steam, an indoor running track, as in the winter, it’s almost impossible to move around outside.”

“I’ve heard that it gets so cold here that it’s hard to breathe.”

“True. That’s why we built the tunnels that connect all the buildings.” He pointed. “That one houses all the shops. Nothing too sophisticated, so don’t get your hopes up. There’s also a couple of restaurants. You can speak to the owner about performing in the larger space. I’m sure Nayan will welcome the boost to her business.” Grimly he continued the tour. “Unlike Ash Valley, we don’t have private bathing facilities. In the rooms, there’s a half bath and after what happened at the conclave…” He hesitated, aware that she might feel guilty about his next words. “We have plenty of room.”

So many good people died in Ash Valley. So senseless. Damn that bastard Talfayen. At first, when Callum initially heard the news, he blamed the cats too, but when he saw the devastation with his own eyes, he couldn’t hold onto that blame. The cats had suffered more than the rest of the Animari, though with the Gols trying to take down the defensive grid, Burnt Amber was up next.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He cut her a sharp, surprised look. Normally, people couldn’t gauge his mood well at all, but she was locked onto his inner turmoil like it was written in a language only she could read. “For what?”

“Everyone and everything you lost.”

Callum cleared his throat, conscious of a terrible tickle when he tried to breathe. She was the first person who’d realized that he grieved for all of it—the loss of life, certainly, but the loss of his life in particular. Now he was the damned head of Burnt Amber whether he liked it or not, and most days, he assuredly did not.

“You don’t need to apologize. The cats didn’t take a damned thing from me,” he muttered.

“Just as well that I wasn’t apologizing per se, let alone speaking for my whole pride. I was expressing support. It’s been a while since you had any, I guess.”

That was entirely too personal—and accurate—an observation. Dammit, running away from her was the safe move. This woman was a heart-seeking missile, and simply by existing, she imperiled his poise. With bleak resolve, he silenced the treacherous voice that whispered how sweet it was to be seen, after all these years.

“That’s the end of the tour. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying until…” Well, there was no telling how long she’d be stranded here, and that boded ill for his peace of mind.

Damn Garven anyway. Callum had half a mind to knock him through a wall, but he was trying to live down a bad reputation and he’d done a fair job of it since joining the order. People clearly had long memories, though.

Joss bit her lip, drawing his reluctant gaze to her mouth. Surely such tiny temptations were intentional, but damned if he would let her make a game of him. Resolutely, he looked away from her lips and locked his eyes on hers.

“I appreciate it. You mentioned the shops… will I be able to use my Ash Valley accounts here?”

“Normally, yes, but we’ve suspended all network transactions due to wartime exigency. There have been numerous Gol attempts at wireless incursion,” he explained. “And if they get inside our firewall, they’ll take down the grid.”

“Sorry if I ought to know already, but what exactly is your defensive grid?”

“Mines and lasers mainly.” It was a bit more complex but he saw no reason to get more specific when she was visibly shivering.

He almost gave her his coat. His hands were on the buttons when he rejected that idea with a fierce, bewildered shake of his head. She can warm up inside. She doesn’t need to wear your clothes. More to the point, it would be disastrous if he saw her in them; that would create all sorts of mental images that he didn’t need.

“Come inside. If you have more questions, ask them later.”

Callum hurried inside and up one flight of stairs. He was used to the dim light, but it was quite different from Ash Valley, more cavelike, and he supposed that was appropriate. While Burnt Amber bears didn’t hibernate like their wild counterparts, they could tolerate the cold better than the cats. It took all his self-control not to warm Joss up, to pull her against him and offer the one thing he had in abundance—blazing body heat. Instead, he opened the door and gestured.

She stepped past him into the cozy room with worn furniture. It had been cleaned since the tragedy at Ash Valley. All the soldier’s personal belongings had been cleared away, leaving it ready for the next occupant. Callum tried to imagine how it struck her, but he had no idea. When she turned, she was smiling.

“Thank you. I’ll be comfortable here. My main issue is, I don’t have anything else to wear, and with no way to access my own accounts—.”

“While you’re here, you’re under my protection,” he cut in. “And I’ll take care of all your needs.”

When her eyes widened, Callum realized how that sounded.

3.

Joss refrained from teasing Callum because she knew damn well that he didn’t mean to be suggestive. She stayed quiet while he fumbled to amend his initial statement, bright color blazing on the part of his cheeks visible above his beard.

“That is, you can put anything you need on my account.”

“I appreciate that,” she said gently. “We’ll talk about reimbursement later.”

“The only thing left is to explain our meal customs, I suppose. There are family units with a kitchen, but I didn’t think you’d want to eat in isolation. Most single people prefer the cafeteria, but there’s a restaurant you can patronize as well. It’s a bit more expensive.”

“That would require more resources than I have at present.”

“I’m sure Nayan will throw in a meal as part of your compensation. At any rate, I’ll leave such negotiations up to you. I’ll add you to my account at the cafeteria as well, so you can eat whenever you like.”

“Any set hours for meals?” she asked.

The way Callum hovered at the door, it seemed as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. She wanted to invite him to sit down because he looked frayed to the point of exhaustion, but he’d resisted all overtures toward friendship so far. He’d probably take simple kindness as some intricate plot aimed at allurement, as he seemed to view her as some inveterate seductress.

“Generally, breakfast is from six to ten in the morning, though if you come later, I’m sure they’ll still fix you a plate. Lunch is served from noon to three. Then dinner runs from five to eight. There’s always a selection of snacks available, even if hot food service is closed.”

Before he could leave in a rush, she spotted a kettle on the sideboard, along with a pair of mugs and a selection of tea in a little basket. Most likely, he would refuse, but it would be polite to ask, right? He had said he had no experience being gracious but so far, he had been kinder and more patient than she’d earned with her impulsive behavior.

“It’s been a long day. Do you have time for a cup of tea before you have to get back to work?” She smiled at him, already knowing that he’d snap a refusal and dart out the door like the room contained all hell’s devils.

Instead, a quiet sigh slid out of him. “What do you expect to gain from fraternizing with me?”

Joss blinked. “Nothing. I just thought you might be tired.”

“I am, truly. You have no idea.”

That honesty surprised both of them, and she didn’t know who was more startled when he stepped away from the door and let himself fall into the overstuffed chair near the hearth. But she pretended as if this was going just as she’d foreseen and turned her back to make their drinks, filling the kettle in the half bath he’d mentioned and flipping the switch to heat the water. Then, once those tasks were tended, she stole a glance at Callum, who was sprawled like he might never get up. Brawny arms resting on the padded sides of the chair. He’d tilted his head back and was staring up at the ceiling like he didn’t know what he was doing here.

But Joss might have some idea. She set the steaming mug on the table to his right and carried hers across to the small sofa. He’d chosen the chair to keep her at a distance, but she wasn’t trying to take more than he could give. At this point, even exchanging a few words with him filled her absurd heart with sparkling delight.

“With anyone else, there’s expectation,” she said quietly. “Some hope or fear to hang on you. They’ll be after progress or promises or reassurance. When you need to put that down, even for a moment, you can come here. I won’t talk to you if you don’t wish it. I’ll just make you a cup of tea and let you be.”

“That’s a tempting offer,” he said. “What if I want more than tea? What then?”

Her heart pounded like it might leave her chest. “I’m not sure what you’re asking, but I suspect you’re teasing.”

“I was wondering if you’d sing for me if I wanted it.”

I’d do anything if you asked. It would never be the time for such a ridiculous declaration, but the words still whispered in her head nonetheless. If he enjoyed listening to her sing, maybe he’d come for a private show.

She tried for a friendly smile, hoping her eagerness didn’t show. “Of course. I’m here to bolster spirits as best I can.”

“I see. At any rate, I shouldn’t be alone with you too often.” Without looking at her, Callum raised the cup and took a long swallow.

She envied the ceramic for knowing the feel of his mouth, warm and generous beneath the bristle of his beard. “Why not? Because people will think—”

“No. Because the order forbids close friendships between men and women. If I lean on you, I’ll eventually find more solace in you than in my vows.”

That sounded…delicious. But wrong.

“Ah. I didn’t realize—”

“But I’ll bear your invitation in mind,” he went on. “This situation will likely get worse before it gets better, and there may come a point where I’ll need…”

What? Me? Someone? Anyone?

But he didn’t finish the sentence. Instead he downed the drink and stood. “I’ve lingered long enough. I’m sure Garven will be able to answer any questions that come up later.”

I’ve been delegated.

The thought shouldn’t depress her so much, but Joss shivered when he stepped out and closed the door. Before, the room looked warm and inviting, but now it seemed faded; the floral fabric of the furniture lost some of its brightness. On the walls, there were mediocre watercolors, likely painted by relatives of the prior tenant. There wasn’t much to this room—a single window, sideboard behind the loveseat, armchair by the fireplace. She stepped through the arch into the sleeping area and found a chest and a double bed, along with more watercolors.

She had no belongings to put away, and she was hungry. The tea didn’t do anything about all the meals she’d missed, so she was about to go in search of the cafeteria when someone rapped on the door. Joss hurried to answer it.

He wouldn’t be back already, but still…

Instead, she found Trini and Emilia, along with Renna, who was holding a box. Confused, Joss stepped back so they could come in. “Is this the welcome committee or am I being hazed?”

Emilia might be the type, but she didn’t think Trini and Renna fit that profile. The other three women traipsed in and the first two made themselves comfortable without waiting for an invitation.

“Nothing like that,” Renna said, offering the carton. “I heard about your predicament. We went through our closets and found some things that you can use while you’re here.”

“Wow, thanks. I’d offer tea, but I only have two mugs.”

Emilia picked up the one Callum had left. “And they’re dirty. Still warm, too. You’re faster than I expected, even for a cat.”

Trini smacked Emilia on the arm as Joss asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Renna sighed. “Please don’t aggravate our guest on her first day.”

That didn’t answer the question, though. “Seriously, someone clue me in. ‘Even for a cat’?”

There was a short silence, then Trini spoke quickly, seeming embarrassed. “It’s probably not true, but they talk about cat shifters as being…well, especially alluring and seductive. More than bears or wolves.”

“You think we’re literal sex kittens?” Joss asked, stifling a laugh.

“How else did that phrase get started?” Emilia demanded.

If that was the pervasive lore among the bears, no wonder Callum acted so skittish. He must fear that breathing the same air as Joss would drive him mad with lust and cause him to forsake his vows. As such stories went, this one was hilarious.

“Maybe that explains a few things, though,” she muttered.

At last, Joss took the box from Renna and carried it into the bedroom. There would be time later to see what they’d given her. Then she rejoined the others with a bright smile, determined to make the best of things.

“Anyone up for dinner and some shopping?”

Though Callum wanted dinner and ten hours of sleep, he went to the security office first. Burnt Amber lost their chief of security in Ash Valley, so Jere Vidal stepped up, taking their father’s place. They were young for the role, slim and elegant, with coppery skin, brown eyes, and curly black hair. Jere tended to be tentative, asking for guidance instead of taking decisive action. Since Callum felt the same about leading the clan, he couldn’t fault the security chief for erring toward caution.

“Let me see the logs,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

Jere queued up the files and eased their chair back to offer the screen. Callum leaned in, skimming the footage. Everything had gone about as he expected, though they’d left the grid down longer than he deemed safe. Yet Renna and Jere had done the best they could while monitoring their return, trying to time the outage to allow the convoy to return home without allowing the Gols time to strike.

“They lost some troops when the grid went up,” he said.

“They tried to intercept, weren’t fast enough. Mines took out the vanguard, and the rest fell back. They’ve set up camps, here and here.”

Drone video showed him a little of what the Gols were doing, right up until the unit exploded. “Guess they caught us spying.”

“They won’t be able to do anything with the wreckage,” Jere said.

Callum looped the prior recording so he could watch the detonations again. Best count, they lost two vehicles in that failed push, no more than twenty men. That wasn’t enough to feel glad about. Mines weren’t self-regenerating either, so now they had a bald spot, defense-wise. Not close enough to home for it to matter right now, but the situation could change. Callum ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled.

“Any sign that they’ve figured it out?” he asked.

“Not so far. They’re determined to hit Burnt Amber, no matter the casualties, and they wouldn’t be so determined if they had any inkling that we manufacture all our tech offsite.”

Yeah, bullshit stories alleged that the bears had some top-secret underground facility beneath the hold, but some enterprising clan chief had spread that rumor ages ago to keep everyone from realizing the truth was much simpler. If the factory stayed hidden, they had hope of turning this mess around. But it wasn’t enough to hunker down; somehow, he had to figure out how to take the fight to the Golgoth without getting all his soldiers killed. Some wolf war machines would come in handy, but with the borders locked and Raff distracted with Eldritch matters, there would be no aid coming from that quarter.

And I have the damned drug trade to deal with too.

It was too much for one person to handle and his closest ties were in the Order of Saint Casimir. While the monks might come if he called, they weren’t a military order, and he’d stormed off under a cloud after the bombing. The idea of getting his brothers killed didn’t sit well either. Neither did the current situation, and no matter which way he looked, he could find no solutions.

Maybe he could delegate the drug issue, at least. “We have a problem.”

“Just the one?” Jere joked. Then they fell silent, evidently judging that Callum was in no mood for levity. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Quickly he summed up what he’d learned of the smuggling issue from Magda Versai at Daruvar and Jere scowled as the story got worse. Callum finished with, “I’d appreciate it if you could talk to the doctors and nurses in the medical center. They must have noticed the shortages…and if they didn’t, then they might be part of the cover up.”

“I don’t like thinking our people have any ties to an extremist group,” Jere said, a frown pleating their brow.

“Suspect everyone,” he advised. “Even if you’re sure it couldn’t be them because they seem so nice. Believe only the evidence and let me know what you find out.”

“I’m on it. And… thank you for trusting me with this. I know I haven’t overwhelmed you with my initiative so far. I won’t let you down.”

He didn’t know how to respond to compliments; they were seldom expressed so openly in the order. “Eh, well. We’re both wearing new shoes, aren’t we? There’s bound to be a painful breaking-in period.”

Callum excused himself then. Maybe he should try harder to connect with people, but a little voice kept saying there was no point since he’d be heading back to the monastery as soon as possible. People fell into two groups here at Burnt Amber—the elders, who remembered his history all too well and who liked to whisper about his tragic past and the young ones who didn’t know any of that firsthand, but who got nervous looking at him. None of it felt comfortable.

He thought he’d delayed long enough that he should be safe in stopping for a bite in the cafeteria, but he found Joss there with Renna, Trini, and Emilia. To his astonishment, Joss waved when she saw him, beaming a smile so bright that it dazzled his senses. Renna followed Joss’s motion and her expression was a mix of guilt and dismay. Well, that makes two of us.

But what does she feel guilty about?

Their plates were half empty so it would be awkward to join them, making them think he needed companionship for his meal, but the way Joss was signaling, the interested onlookers might imagine he was petty enough to bear a grudge over their exchange in the courtyard. Gossip would spread like wildfire anyway, no need to encourage it. He had to pretend this pretty cat didn’t trouble him, so he went through the line and nodded at various offerings until he had food to eat. In the order, they were taught not to think too much about physical pleasures, even when it came to dining options. All such gratification was ephemeral.

“I’ve already made friends,” Joss said as he sat down, as if that were unusual.

He had a hard time believing that, friendly as she was. She seemed like the sort of person who could spin round in a square and knock into at least five people who wanted to get to know her better. The irritating thing was, Callum couldn’t even remove himself from that number. Some deeply buried part of him took so much pleasure in listening to her voice that it was probably against the order’s rules, not that he’d ever heard of such a proscription.

The other three women seemed startled when he set his plate down. Yes, I normally eat alone. You try telling her no.

Joss leaned and inhaled. At first, he thought she was smelling him, and he had no idea what he’d have done if that were the case. But she said, “Venison stew? I have the cabbage rolls. Really good! Do you want to try?” Before he could decline, she put a bite on her fork and passed it to him.

While the others watched in frozen fascination, he decided the least dramatic response was to sample the cabbage roll. And it was good. He nodded in acknowledgment, aware that people were whispering that a little cat had already tamed the angry bear. That was obviously incorrect.

I’m being polite to a guest.

He returned her utensil and set to his own meal in silence, letting them carry the weight of conversation. The women were talking about heading to Nayan’s club to introduce Joss and discuss the potential for her to perform. There should be no problem with that, and if she kept the soldiers distracted, maybe people wouldn’t think too much about how trapped they were.

You have to fix this.

Callum ate in morose silence, aware that people were still talking about him, though damned if he knew why. He wasn’t even talking to Joss Bristow. Finally, Trini stood. “We should get going, if everyone’s done. Good night!”

He merely waved a fork and let them go. Afterward, he realized why the audience had been so intrigued. In using Joss’s fork, he’d put his mouth in second-hand contact with hers, an indirect kiss. Such nonsense, they’d only shared some germs, nothing romantic about that. Privately, he admitted that it was more intimacy than he’d allowed in years.

And it couldn’t go even one step further.

4.

At a glance, Joss could tell that Callum had undersold the entertainment plaza, especially with the caveat ‘don’t expect too much’. He had mentioned shops—and there was a good assortment of clothing, household goods, and decorative items. He’d mentioned one restaurant, but there were several. One was an adorable café, far more charming than she’d envisioned from his terse description, with a variety of drinks and pastries. The other place was along the lines of a supper club with a small stage, and black velvet décor with lots of dark wood, heavy draperies, and exquisite crystal fixtures.

Renna moved through the maze of tables with confidence, leading the way toward the back. Trini and Emilia had gone off after dinner, leaving Joss with the woman Beren almost married, who wasn’t quite Callum’s aunt.

Such a weird dynamic.

But Renna was so friendly and eager to help that Joss liked her, even as she wondered how the woman had felt about the old bear. May – December romances weren’t so shocking, but it was more the fact that Renna didn’t act particularly grief-stricken that made Joss wonder exactly how things had gone. If they got close enough, she might indulge her curiosity.

“Nayan!” Renna called. “Are you here?”

“Of course I am,” came the acerbic reply. “Where else would I be?”

An elegant, silver-haired woman stepped out of the back room. Though the Animari weren’t ageless like the Eldritch, for an elder to reveal her years this way, Nayan must be well over a hundred. She wore the age well, like a tiara of distinction, her dark eyes full of knowledge that Joss couldn’t fathom. Nayan was dressed in a black sheath, a collar of diamonds on her throat, likewise at her wrist and ears.

Seems like her restaurant is successful.

Various workers circulated, but they didn’t seem to be preparing to open the restaurant. Instead, they appeared to be doing a deep cleaning, moving furniture about and scrubbing hidden surfaces with gusto.

“This is Joss,” Renna said.

“Nice to meet you.” She proffered her hand, ending an inspection that might be taken the wrong way if she persisted.

After a minute hesitation, Nayan shook her hand lightly. “Likewise. We’re closed tonight, as Renna knows. I presume you have business with me?”

Joss glanced at Renna, who invited her to speak with a silent gesture. “I do, yes. Renna said you might be interested in having me perform while I’m here.”

Shrewd, assessing eyes swept over Joss, and she suddenly wished she had something else to wear, that she’d done her makeup properly, and that her hairstyle was more sophisticated. “That depends. What’s your specialty?”

“I’m a singer. I perform regularly in Ash Valley, and I’ve recorded a few albums. Nothing too popular.”

“That’s commendable, but what are you doing here? You do know we’re under siege? Or shall be soon enough. This is no time for a friendly visit.” Nayan folded her arms and fixed a stern look on Joss, as if she was a foolish kit.

And maybe I am, but this woman isn’t my auntie. She had no right to chastise Joss’s choices, poor as they might be.

Joss met that look with a hint of steel. “I’d argue that there will never be a more crucial time, ma’am. There’s a precedent for performers raising the spirits of soldiers during wartime. In fact, I wouldn’t even be here if the guards at Daruvar hadn’t told me personally that they’re sorely in need of distraction.”

Nayan drew the exchange of stares out as if daring Joss to look away. She didn’t.

“I like you, child. Plenty of spark. And you’ll need it. The audience can get a bit rowdy when they’re full of drink. You think you can handle it?”

“You should audition me before you worry about how I’ll handle the hecklers,” she said boldly. “Maybe you won’t like my voice or song selection. Let’s take this step by step.”

“An excellent suggestion. Please proceed. Renna and I will sit at the back to test your vocal strength.”

Joss noticed that the woman didn’t offer musical accompaniment or to activate the sound system. Fine, we’ll do this the old-fashioned way. Normally, she had a pianist backing her up, but she could play three instruments, and there was a piano at the back of the stage. Since it was small, she moved it herself, settling it in the center. Though she didn’t see Nayan issue any orders, the lights dimmed and a circle of a gold illuminated Joss when she sat down on the wooden bench.

After warming up her hands, she tested the keys. Good sound, well-tuned. She played a few scales and then launched into her favorite song. At first, she sang for them, but as usually happened, she lost herself in the music and soon, she was singing only for herself.

Music filled her with sunlight, brilliant and golden. One song flowed into the next, emotion after emotion, and she didn’t stop until the sound of applause echoed in the room. She opened her eyes and glanced toward the audience in surprise; she hadn’t thought two people could produce that much noise. Only when her eyes focused, Joss realized that the whole room was full, even though the supper club was supposedly closed and the furniture was in complete disarray. Yet people were standing, drawn by the music, she supposed, arranged around the perimeter.

A touch flustered, she rose and bowed to her hastily-acquired audience. Then she stepped off the little stage and headed toward the back, even as Nayan and Renna came forward. The older woman smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You’re magnificent, my dear. And I can see there’s no doubting your ability to draw a crowd. I can only imagine how brilliant you’ll be with proper preparation.” She turned to those who had come during the show. “Go on now. You know perfectly well that we’re closed today. Look forward to her debut later.”

“Does that mean you’re letting me perform?” Joss asked.

Nayan swapped a look with Renna, then they both laughed. Renna said, “Letting you? That’s the wrong word entirely.”

Nayan tugged Joss toward the table where they had been sitting and lifted a hand. Immediately one of the staff hurried over. “Open a bottle of our best wine. Joss, do you prefer white or red?”

Embarrassed, Joss admitted, “I’m a bit of a child when it comes to drinking. I don’t like any of it unless it’s sweet.”

“How adorable,” Nayan said in an indulgent tone. “Bring the Agincourt dessert wine and a plate of the Belford cheese.”

“Right away, ma’am.” The server hurried off with an alacrity that made Joss wonder if the eagerness to please sprang from respect or fear.

Nayan laced her fingers together, regarding Joss across the dark surface of the table. “While I appreciate your desire to do a good deed for the soldiers, I can’t allow you to work for free. You’ll be compensated for each performance. One show a night, six per week, with a day off to rest your voice. Does that sound reasonable?”

“How long would each show be?” Joss asked.

“You’re the expert, my dear. I’ll allow you to choose the set list and running time. I can tell from your audition that you’ll put your heart into each performance. And the numbers you’ll bring in will increase my drink sales, well worth the cost of our partnership.”

Joss certainly wasn’t thinking about profit and loss with the Golgoth camped outside, but Nayan was a businesswoman, and clearly a successful one. She made an offer that Joss thought was a little low, so they went back and forth, until settling on a weekly salary that she thought would be more than enough for her to pay for food and clothing while she was here. Joss planned on offering to pay rent too, but she suspected that Callum would turn her down.

“Do I need to sign anything?” she asked, when they finished the negotiation.

Nayan shook her head. “Unless you’d feel more comfortable, I’m fine with having our deal witnessed by Renna. I’ve also got a recording of our agreement in case there are any questions later.”

“Sounds good,” Joss said. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Callum had no idea why he lingered. He had been drawn like a moth to a flame by whispers that the little cat was singing over at Nayan’s place. And sure enough, as he approached, Joss’s voice cut through him like a knife, sending shivers through his whole body. It was like she’d tangled her fingers directly in his nerves, until his skin broke out in goosebumps.

The moment he reacted like that, he should’ve run the other way. Instead, he stood just outside the doors and listened to song after song, until he was drunk with the pleasure of her voice. When she finally stopped, he felt physically weak, trembling with the force of his response. Listening to Joss was like tumbling headfirst into a vat of beauty, drowning in it and not even minding his own imminent demise.

Letting out a shaky breath, he leaned against the wall, trying not to show how utterly undone he was to those trickling out of the closed restaurant. Of course Garven was one of them. The other man didn’t seem to notice his lack of composure, knocking a fist into his shoulder.

“You missed the show,” Garven said. “What an angel that woman is! I’ll be here every damned night that I’m not on duty.” Leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, he said, “And it seems I’m not the only one. The guys are running a pool.”

“Eh?” Callum grunted in response, only half listening to Garven’s nonsense.

“To see if she sings that sweetly in bed. First one to—”

“No.” He slammed Garven into the wall, arm across his throat. Callum leaned in, close enough to see the veins in the other man’s eyes, making sure his meaning came across. “There will be no betting on her private life. If she favors someone, they’ll be lucky enough not to need to win anything else for the rest of their lives. Understand?”

“I’ll put a stop to it,” Garven choked out.

“I’m fucking disgusted. She came here, put herself in harm’s way to support you assholes and that’s how you repay her?”

“Sorry, boss.”

Belatedly Callum realized that Garven’s face was the wrong color and he let up, took a physical step back, sharply aware that he had no right to be this angry. Not over Joss Bristow. Hopefully Garven would take his reaction as a response to a discipline problem.

“If you’re interested,” he said gruffly, “pursue her honestly. Don’t go wagering behind her back.”

Garven shot him a wary look. “Does that mean…we’re allowed to pursue her?”

Shit. He’s noticed.

He shrugged, wishing he felt half this sanguine. “None of my business, as long as you’re respectful. A secret bet on who nails her first is shady as hell.”

Garven flushed and broke eye contact. “Agreed. I wasn’t thinking. Just got carried away in the big talk and the sense of competition, I guess.”

“Don’t let me hear about this again. I won’t have her going back to Ash Valley thinking that we’re a bunch of disrespectful barbarians.”

“Fair enough.”

As Garven hurried off, Callum shoved away from the wall. At least conflict had restored some of his equilibrium, but he wasn’t nearly prepared to find Joss frozen just outside the doors, one hand braced on the wall.

“They were…” She didn’t say ‘betting on me’ but she’d heard everything, he could tell. Her green eyes were an open wound, showing how sick and disappointed she felt. Then her lashes fluttered, veiling her pain.

“I took care of it,” he snapped.

“Yes, I heard that too. Gave your blessing for anyone to have at me, as long as they don’t lay odds on it.”

How did she make that sound so wrong? Put that way, it seemed unsavory, as if he’d betrayed a bond. But they didn’t share…anything.

“It’s not my business, except when it comes to the morality of my men. I’m not pushing celibacy on the rest of the world.”

Somehow that explanation didn’t help at all. He could see by the way she drew back that he’d made it worse. Callum felt like a giant stepping on people’s houses, but he was too far from the problem to see where it was safe to set his feet.

She squared her shoulders. “I understand perfectly. You do not like me, you have no use for me, and it doesn’t concern you in the slightest what happens in my personal life.”

“Who said I don’t like you?” The retort popped out before he could stop it.

Really, he should let her storm away and cry it out. He should not continue this conversation.

“You treat me like I have a virus you can catch.” Her words emerged sharp as razors, and her eyes sliced into him.

Gods, what am I doing?

Still, he tried to mitigate the offense, as when Callum pissed somebody off, he wanted it to be on purpose. He wasn’t prone to inflicting collateral damage on innocent bystanders. “I told you before, the order—”

“I don’t give a damn about the order. You said they frown on close friendships between men and women, but that must be because they see women as inherently corrupt or untrustworthy. If you saw me as a person of worth, you’d trust me to respect your boundaries.”

Part of that was probably true, as Saint Casimir had been a bit of a misogynist, but it was also about rejecting secular influences. Perhaps he should tell her that he wasn’t encouraged to get close to anyone outside the order, as temptation wasn’t limited to women. The brothers could be trusted to respect the ascetic lifestyle; others might view a devout person as a challenge. But already he could tell that Joss wasn’t like that.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” he muttered.

Shit. Did I really say that?

Her eyes widened. “You’re… are you saying that I…tempt you?”

More than anyone in living memory.

For fifteen years, he’d served the Order of Saint Casimir and never regretted his choices. Rituals gave him stability and routine kept his extreme tendencies in check. But everything had changed, and the order was so far away, like a different life.

“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he muttered.

“It sounds like you don’t trust yourself around me,” she said in a gentler tone.

“Let’s pretend this conversation never happened.”

“But it did. And I want to be your friend, Callum. I understand that your vows are important. They’re part of who you are, and I respect that. I’ll never do anything to threaten your vocation. But really, we can’t even talk? Or eat a meal together?”

His head was such a fucking mess because hearing that…bothered him, like she didn’t, in fact, see him as a man. Never mind that he should feel reassured by those promises. Instead, he itched all over, irritated by her easy profession of friendship. She’s not in turmoil at all.

Sure, kit, let’s have stew and chat about the fourth meditations of Saint Casimir. I’m positive you’ve some fresh insights.

His mouth tightened. “I don’t have time for that. If you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a war.”

Soberly, she nodded. “I’m sure you could use an unbiased ear. Everyone in the hold is subject to your authority, so you can’t confide in them whereas I’m outside your sphere of influence. If you vent to me, you don’t need to worry about how it’ll muck up your politics.”

That part was true enough. And the idea of having somewhere to go when the weight piled up? Indescribably seductive. But people would talk if he spent too much private time with Joss.

Do I even care about that?

Not really.

As long as he didn’t betray his vows, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. The order might give him a hard time if they found out, but if he swore on the sigil of Saint Casimir that he hadn’t crossed any lines, they should assign penance and take him back without much trouble.

“What do you get out of this?” he wondered aloud.

“The chance to get to know you better. You seem like an interesting person.”

Well, damn. That was a lukewarm endorsement. He didn’t want her trying to seduce him—his life was complicated enough—but it was a blow to his ego to know that she’d been following him like an orphaned cub because she’d never met a monk before or something along those lines. He should feel safe, not faintly downcast, but hell, he could use a friend, now more than ever.

Before he could change his mind, he stuck out a hand. “Friends then, if you can stand my bad temper. I’m told that I’m a proper pain in the ass.”

He realized just how small she was when his hand engulfed hers. It was so warm, softer than he could’ve imagined, not that he was prone to thinking about other people’s bodies. Those thoughts only led to frustration.

And when she smiled up at him, his heart turned over.

5.

I can’t believe I said all that crap with a straight face.

Joss felt like her entire body was vibrating, just from touching his hand. The reaction was ridiculous and over the top, but there it was. She’d had sex before that hadn’t been so momentous.

Somehow, she kept her expression calm. If he had any inkling how excited she was, he’d already be running the other way. My poker face must be better than I thought.

It had felt like a punch in the chest when she heard Callum telling Garven that anybody could court her. Though she’d known nothing could happen between them, still such a complete disavowal of interest scraped like salt in a wound that hadn’t healed over yet. Love at first sight didn’t exist; it was a combination of delicious hormones mixed with visual impact, but still. All the intellectual understanding in the world couldn’t change the power of that initial reaction.

Sometimes, she still heard that echo in the back of her head when she looked at him. Mine. He’s mine.

Too bad the Order of Saint Casimir had prior claim.

Joss realized she had been holding his hand for too long, so she shook it and let go, rubbing her fingers together to capture that tingle of pleasure. She managed a casual smile.

“I should get going. Hope you’ll come to the show tomorrow night.”

He surprised her by asking, “What time?”

“Seven. Take care until then. And if you need a sympathetic ear at any point, you know where I am.”

That’s nonchalant enough, right? With a cheery wave, she headed off and she used all her self-control not to look back at him like a completely obsessed weirdo. The only way this friendship could happen was if she convinced him that she wasn’t secretly longing for him with every fiber of her being. So far, it seemed to be working.

Maybe I should get into acting when the war is over.

“You remember where to go?”

Surprised, she turned to find that Callum had caught up to her to check on that. Joss should probably say that she was fine, but it was dark, and she honestly wasn’t 100% sure that she did know.

Shrugging, she said, “I’ll give it my best shot. You want to guide me?”

“This is the last time. It’s not hard to learn the layout here.”

His offer might sound grudging, but it was deeply courteous. While she might not be in danger, she could wear herself out, roaming a strange place after nightfall.

“You have your hands full,” she said softly. “Sorry to give you more to worry about.”

He stuffed said hands into the pockets of his jacket, a rugged brown thing with a fuzzy wool lining. “You’re also offering to lighten my load, so I should be nice. Nice as I get anyway.”

He ought to give himself more credit. Joss noticed, even if Callum didn’t, the way he unconsciously shortened his steps to keep pace with her. If he wasn’t doing it on purpose, it meant he liked her enough on some level to want to stay close.

“You must be worried about the leak,” she said, keeping her words oblique. He might not have raised the drug issue yet, and she didn’t want to make his job harder.

“How—let me guess, Magda told you.”

“She mentioned it at Daruvar. Don’t worry, I haven’t said anything to anyone else. What do you plan to do?”

He let out an aggravated-sounding breath. “Hell if I know. I put Jere on it. The biggest problem I dealt with in the order was someone borrowing a book from the library without checking it out properly.”

“Did you work in archives? That must have been so peaceful.”

“It was,” he said, seeming surprised that she saw that.

“My cousin always said as much,” Joss told him. “Pru was Latent, and she took refuge in books when things were the worst for her.”

“But not you?” he guessed.

“I prefer comics. It’s not the same without the art. And I’ve always found my shelter in music anyway.” She peered at him sideways to gauge how he was taking that. People always seemed to think it was because she wanted attention or because she yearned to be famous, but the truth was, she didn’t feel entirely alive without it.

“You’d probably like some of the illuminated manuscripts,” Callum said.

She blinked, cocking her head. “Are visitors allowed to see them?”

“Not so much. I spoke without thinking, something I do too often around you.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“Better than thinking I’m an impulsive lummox,” he mumbled.

“You’re too hard on yourself. Let me know if I can do anything to help. I mean, the Golgoth camped just past the grid is outside my range, but I can keep my eyes and ears open regarding—”

Suddenly, he sealed a hand over her mouth and pulled her into the shadows of a nearby building. Though her heart pounded wildly, she didn’t protest. Joss didn’t bite him either, mostly because he had her pressed against his big body, and her whole being flushed with delight.

“Where did they go?” a male voice asked, and then someone shushed him.

Someone is following us? Why?

She had no idea if it had to do with that stupid bet or if it might be more sinister. The fact the Callum had silenced her forcibly suggested the latter. Joss breathed deeply and slowly through her nose.

If their two pursuers paid close attention, they could use their ears and noses to track Joss and Callum down. If she knew that, Callum surely did too. She tapped on his hand urgently, trying to convey as much with her eyes.

He held the look and nodded once, then he removed his hand, but he kept a hold of her wrist, leading her around the structure with surprisingly light steps. She moved as he did, matching his stealth. Cats were better at stalking than bears anyway.

Soon, they stepped into the building that housed her room. She exhaled unsteadily. “What was that all about?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s get upstairs. We can talk more there.”

He’s taking me to my door? It wasn’t the time to be giddy about such a small thing, especially under these circumstances, but she took pleasure in being walked up. Callum came in and shut the door behind him without waiting for an invitation, then he headed straight to the window, closing the curtains against anyone who might be watching.

“I won’t mention the drug issue in public again,” she promised, as he turned with a deep scowl. “Do you think this is related?”

His brow furrowed. “I don’t want to think so, but I already know I can’t trust everyone here. Someone’s selling drugs to the Eldritch, and they might be worried about what I learned at Daruvar.”

“With good reason.”

“Look,” he said abruptly. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want you poking around. It could be dangerous. You’re here to sing, so do that, all right? It’s enough.”

She folded her arms, still standing by the door. “I want to help you.”

“You think it’ll help if I’m constantly worried that something will happen to you?” He ran a rough hand through his already messy hair, and she immediately wanted to do the same.

More to the point, she wanted to cross the room and climb him. Friend thoughts. Think friend thoughts. Don’t focus on how it would feel to kiss him, whether his beard would be scratchy or soft.

Before she could speak, he went on, “It’s not safe here. Not inside the walls. For damn sure not outside. And I don’t know who I can trust.”

I really, really want to hug him. Until now, she hadn’t realized how alone he was, cut off from his familiar life in the order, tasked with running a hold he hadn’t lived in for years, in the middle of a war. Plus, he had to root out a traitor—or a group of them—in the middle of all that.

“I won’t say that you can trust me. Words are easy. Instead, I’ll prove that you can,” Joss said softly. “So if you’re telling me to sing, then I’ll sing. Any requests?”

Callum stared at her for such a long time, his hazel eyes intense, that her heart went wild. “Are you offering me a private show?”

“Nothing that formal,” Joss said. “Sit down and I’ll make some tea. We can discuss who might have been following us and what we should do about it.”

Those were entirely sensible suggestions, much to Callum’s disappointment. He did as she suggested, settling into the chair he’d sat in before. Was that today? It had been an incredibly long day, one that seemed to be endless.

Callum could hear her moving about, water running as she filled the kettle, and while she worked, she sang. He hadn’t heard the song before, but it must be a lullaby, something you’d croon to a fractious child. The melody was delicate, and her voice held all the sweetness of a lost love. He let out a breath and tension slipped out of his shoulders as he tipped his head back against the upholstered chair.

Who the hell was following us?

He hoped it came from curiosity, soldiers with a crush on Joss who were wondering why she was heading off with Callum, but he feared the explanation might not be so simple or wholesome. With his eyes closed, the song swirled around him, like a shimmering stream bright enough to carry him away. Everything else seemed distant and ephemeral, fading beside the soft pleasure that trickled through him.

Callum jolted upright, his heart pounding.

For a few terrifying seconds, he had no idea where he was. Slowly, recognition came to him, though the room was dim. This is Joss’s place. A mug sat on the table to his right, but from the look of it, the tea had long since gone cold. Belatedly, he realized that there was a blanket tucked around him, and he could picture what must have happened with perfect clarity.

I dozed off listening to her sing. When she delivered the drink, instead of waking and evicting him—the sensible choice—she’d quietly covered him and let him sleep. Judging from the soft breathing in the next room, she’d gone to bed long ago, and his whole body flushed over the quiet intimacy of the situation.

It’s not like we slept together.

But when he imagined her leaning close, pulling the covers across his chest, tucking it around his shoulders, it was like he could feel those gentle touches, ghosts of contact on his arms, chest, and shoulders. It was ridiculous to feel so undone over such a small, considerate gesture, but he was trembling when he stood.

A quiet, subversive voice whispered that he should check on her before he went, and he even took a step toward the bedroom before he realized what a terrible idea that was. Callum left silently and blessed the fact that it was so late that it was early; he shouldn’t run into anyone on his way back to his own quarters, a modest room one floor up. That was partly why he’d volunteered to walk her back. It was literally on his way home. He hadn’t been able to make himself occupy Beren’s former home, a much larger apartment decorated in luxurious style.

Callum wasn’t used to luxury or fine things, and he didn’t want to get used to them, either. Acquiring a taste for such pleasures would make it more difficult to return to his spare life with the order, once he steered the clan through this crisis. He wanted that contentment and simplicity back, but each day he spent on secular matters diminished his devotion and contentment. Already, he’d forgotten the sound of the morning chants, gotten used to hot showers instead of cold, and having options about what to eat for dinner.

His luck held. Nobody crossed his path as he hurried to the stairs, but his heart didn’t settle until the door closed behind him. Instead of going directly to bed, he went to the half-bath and sluiced cold water on his face, hoping the shock of it would return him to reality. When he’d agreed to be her friend, he didn’t realize how dangerous that could be. Only the first day, and he’d already done something that the order would consider wildly inappropriate.

It didn’t matter that he’d only slept in a chair. The chair in question was in a woman’s apartment, and the brothers wouldn’t understand in the slightest. In truth, Callum barely recognized himself when he pulled his hands away from his face, water streaming down his cheeks and dripping from his beard. His eyes were bruised beneath and bloodshot. The nap he’d taken in Joss’s chair had been some of the most peaceful sleep he’d known since the conclave.

“Get your head on right,” he told his reflection sternly.

The man in the mirror didn’t seem fazed. With a growl, he turned and went to bed, but sleep didn’t come as quickly as it had while he was listening to her sing. He played that memory over and over, drawing out each note of the lullaby until it was like she was in the room with him.

When he had asked if she meant to give him a private show, he’d expected her to flirt with him—to tease him somehow. And if she had, he would’ve retreated because he had no interest in playing that game, where she pitted her wiles against his self-control. She surprised him with her matter-of-fact response and left him no reason to withdraw. And now, he was thinking about her in the middle of the night.

Obsessive. You’re obsessive, Callum. The way you love is smothering me.

The voice swam up from the depths, a memory he’d tried his best to bury. And for the most part, he succeeded. Only in moments of extreme weakness did he hear that accusation, born from the wreckage of another life. Before he joined the order and got himself under control. Groaning, he rolled onto his side and whispered the meditations, trying to calm the turmoil in his head.

There is no desire. Desire is longing and longing is pain. There is only peace, peace and repose. Repose is born of inner harmony. I am at one with the world and with my brothers. My brothers are my—

Clenching a fist, he slammed it into the mattress. He couldn’t finish the litany, and he wouldn’t be sleeping anymore tonight, either. The bathhouse would be deserted at this hour at least, sparing him the need to socialize with the rest of the clan. It was bad enough that they looked to him, expecting salvation from an impossible, untenable position.

With a muffled curse, he shoved some clothes in a bag at random, along with soap and shampoo. Then he headed to sweat out some of his frustrations. As he’d guessed, the steam room was empty, and Callum stripped down to enjoy it. The moist heat engulfed him and he spent as long as he could tolerate in the room, until he felt empty-headed and dizzy. Afterward, he plunged into the ice bath to wake himself up fully, then finished with a lukewarm shower.

By the time he left the bathhouse, it was just before dawn, light teasing at the edges of the sky. As spring came on, the days would get longer. Normally, he’d be turning the earth, preparing to plant what the order needed for another year. Here, others oversaw the garden—and most manual tasks—while they expected him to turn his mind toward more important matters.

Jere found him as he headed toward the cafeteria for an early breakfast. “Sorry to disturb you, but there’s movement.”

“The Gols?” he guessed. It didn’t take a genius to see that coming.

“They’re coming in quietly. Slowly. If one of the drones hadn’t picked up movement, I might not have noticed.”

“How? The grid’s still up?”

“They’re following the path inward where the mines blew last time. There isn’t a clear path to the hold yet, but they seem to be testing the grid and I think they’re prepared to make…sacrifices.”

Acceptable collateral damage. That sounded about right for those assholes. The Gols under Tycho Vega didn’t value anyone’s life, certainly not that of their foot soldiers. The grunts would be ordered to defuse the mines—or blow them—and the rest would push onward to Burnt Amber.

Sooner or later, they’ll be at our walls.

“What are your orders?” Jere asked.

Like Callum had anywhere good to go from here. He let out a heavy breath. No choice anymore. It’s war before breakfast.

6.

Callum was gone when Joss woke.

She’d known he would be, of course, but it was still a mild disappointment to find the blanket tumbled on the floor, as if he’d started awake, then panicked and ran. He hadn’t left a note and he wouldn’t have stepped foot into her bedroom.

It had been a miracle that he trusted her enough to fall asleep while she was present. Sighing, Joss glanced out the window and saw that it was early, not even dawn. Too soon to start roaming around.

She picked up the blanket and settled into what she already thought of as his chair. Hugging the afghan to her chest, she closed her eyes and leaned her head where his had been. Sitting like this, it was almost like snuggling into his arms, reclining as he had. The cover had been on him long enough that she could breathe in echoes of Callum, and her sharp senses picked out the separate notes: cedar and black currant, underscored with the crispness of verbena. The scent must be in his soap or shampoo, as she couldn’t imagine him using cologne. Eventually, she gave in and buried her face in the fabric, breathing him in in deep, desperate gulps.

Joss felt all kinds of foolish and lovesick, but there was nothing she could do about it. She’d thought spending time with him might settle her feelings, allow her to migrate from an impossible crush to a healthy friendship. So far, proximity was fueling her imagination.

Fighting tears, she pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Never had she felt more lost or farther from home. Her phone still had a minor charge, but there was no signal. No outbound communications. More homesick than she had ever been, she paged through some old pictures. Her fingers stopped, trembled. The tears she had been fighting spilled over as she traced the features of people who were gone forever.

Aunts and uncles. Cousins. Jase was still in the hospital when she left for Daruvar. And my dad—

Joss would never see him again. Now that she’d dashed off like an absolute wobble-wagon, she might never see her family again. Mom must be so worried. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I just followed my heart and…went.

And for what? The dubious benefit she could offer to troops on the frontline. Despite her bold talk to Nayan, Joss had little confidence that a nightly show could make a difference.

Normally, she didn’t wallow like this, but adapting to a strange place and combating her doomed attraction for an irascible monk was wrecking her head. She breathed through the misery and waited until her mood lightened along with the sky. By the time morning broke like an egg, golden at the edges, she had herself together.

Joss rummaged through the box the women had given her and found a brand-new pack of underwear. They’d claimed these were all donations, but who had a package of unopened undies lying around?

She found a bandeau-bra that worked well enough, and the panties were a little big, not so much as to be an issue. Next, she put on a baggy green sweater, so soft that wearing it felt like an all-over hug, and she paired it with a pair of stretchy pants that were probably meant for sparring. Really, she wanted to wash up, but she didn’t feel confident about finding the bathhouse on her own. Breakfast first, then she’d ask for directions. Her curly hair was too wild to tame, so she braided it and tied the bottom with a ribbon she pulled off a blouse at the bottom of the box.

As she stepped out of her room, she met Renna, who was headed for the stairs. The other woman brightened immediately, as if she had been hoping to run into Joss. Maybe that was just a side effect of her brilliant smile but Joss returned it, hoping this might be the start of a sincere friendship.

In Ash Valley, she was always surrounded by people, was usually the one trying to get Pru to be a little more daring, take more chances. Her shy cousin had shocked the hell out of everyone when she abandoned years of pining after Slay and announced that she was mated to Dom, after spending only a week with him.

Seems like she could teach me something about betting it all.

“Good morning,” Renna said. “Are you heading to the caf?”

That had to be short for the cafeteria. Joss nodded. “Callum said that’s the cheapest place to eat.”

“Don’t worry about that. Come on, I was hoping I’d find someone to eat with on the way.” Renna hooked their arms together and led Joss toward the stairs.

“Do you live on this floor?” Privately, she was wondering something else, why Renna didn’t have her own circle of friends.

“I’m…staying here,” Renna said, which wasn’t quite the same.

Joss got the sense that Renna was hesitant to continue so she let it go. To her surprise, as they went down the stairs, the other woman added quietly, “I’m not from here. My family lives in Hallowell. Lived. They lived in Hallowell.”

There was so much loss woven into those soft words that Joss understood straightaway, and she squeezed Renna’s arm in an attempt at comfort.

“I’m so sorry, I know how it feels. I…lost my dad in the conclave.” Others too, but that was her deepest grief.

Sometimes she cried in her sleep and woke with tears drying on her cheeks. The aftermath haunted her, endless nights in the hospital not knowing if Jase would live while Jilly begged for reassurances she couldn’t bring herself to give. Though the twins were related to Pru on her mother’s side, Joss had watched them often and entertained them at joint family parties. So much heartbreak, too much to bear.

“Several months before the conclave, my parents sent me here,” Renna said then. “They were hoping…”

To marry you off? Improve family prospects by giving the old bear the heir he’d long desired. Joss didn’t say any of that because Renna must be suffering enough, knowing that she’d survived because of her parents’ ambition.

“Sometimes it’s hard not knowing…” She hesitated, wondering if she could really say this to Renna.

“Not knowing why you lived?” But Renna did understand, because she finished the sentence correctly.

“Because you’re not as important as some of those who died. Why am I still here? Am I supposed to accomplish something or is it all just random, butterfly wings and chaotic winds?”

The other woman stopped walking, eyes wide. “Yes. That, exactly. It’s so…” Her hands fluttered when words failed her, then she tried again. “Frustrating. Because I feel like nothing I do will ever make it feel all right.”

“By ‘it’ you mean surviving?” Joss guessed.

“You do understand.” Slender shoulders quivered and Renna’s eyes were very bright, so much that a tear trickled from the corner.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry before breakfast. We can talk more later if you’re up for it.”

“I would love that. The soldiers think I don’t realize what it means, but they call me Beren’s Vase. I’m so sick of being treated like I’m useless.”

It wasn’t an insult that Joss had heard before, but she could extrapolate the meaning from context. A vase was decorative, but not especially useful; it was also fragile and easily broken. Though she’d just met the woman, Renna didn’t strike her that way at all, and she sympathized. People at home often judged her by the same criteria, if not in that verbiage.

Before they left the stairwell, Renna wiped her eyes quickly, then she led the way to the cafeteria. It was crowded, and people quieted as they passed, two relative strangers amid those who had been part of Burnt Amber for years. Now that Joss was looking for it, she could see the speculation in the stares that lit on Renna, like they wondered what she was still doing here, now that Beren was dead. But if her family perished in the Battle of Hallowell, where was she supposed to go, exactly?

Irritated on Renna’s behalf, she took the lead and got in line, accepting eggs, sausages, pastries, and coffee, then she scanned the room. “There’s Trini and Emilia. Let’s see if they can put us to work.”

Callum would never ask anything of his men that he wasn’t willing to do himself.

So when the soldiers assembled for the first skirmish, he stripped in the ready room along with them. He wasn’t a fantastic tactical thinker, so he could only lead from the front, venting his rage and bloodlust on the bastards who were trying to destroy everything the bears had built, take technology they had no right to touch. This wasn’t his first battle since leaving the order, but this was the closest the Gols had come to Burnt Amber.

Garven was in this patrol group. Everyone was from the Daruvar goodwill mission, except Trini and Emilia. They apparently had the day off, the first in a while, and Callum couldn’t remember the names of their alternates, but they looked like capable women.

He had no inspiring words for any of them. “Most of us will be going bear. Two on point and two at the rear will be moving with gear and weapons. We need to replace the mines and take out their recon force. If the battle goes bad, at least one of you needs to make it back to the hold to carry the word since our comms are down.”

That was a calculated risk. While it hampered the bears a little, it had to be screwing with the Gols in a big way because it meant they couldn’t call Golgerra to find out how Tycho Vega wanted them to proceed. They’d live or die on their own initiative, and if Callum had his way, he’d irrigate Burnt Amber crops with Golgoth blood.

They didn’t have the manpower for a stand-up battle, hence the skirmishes, hit and run. Only the bears knew the safe paths between the lasers and mines, so they could slide out of the tunnel and emerge in the middle of the enemy, fuck them up, and then bolt back to Burnt Amber. That strategy carried a risk, however, because if they did it enough, the Gols would eventually map the route Callum was using. They’d find the secret entrance.

Fuck it, we’re on borrowed time now.

The soldiers stirred, looking at one another. Belatedly Callum realized they thought he was asking for a volunteer, someone who would be forced to cut and run while comrades died behind them. No surprise, but nobody wanted to carry that banner. According to the ferocious bear creed, it was better to die a hero than live as a coward.

“Everyone take a step forward,” he said.

This might not solve anything—

But it did. They all snapped to obey, except a boy near the back who didn’t look old enough to be part of a patrol yet. He must be, though, because nobody was telling him to get the hell out. His slow response gave Callum the perfect target.

“You. Back corner. Curly black hair.” Probably, he should be ashamed of not knowing everyone’s names.

“Conrad, sir,” came the timid response.

Callum got that a lot. Most couldn’t even make eye contact, let alone give him attitude the way Joss did. Damn it all, why was he thinking about her now, of all times?

“Okay, Conrad. You’re our designated survivor. Do you understand what you have to do?” It was far from ideal for morale to be planning for a team wipe, but the alternative was unthinkable.

The Gols picked off the security team’s drones at every opportunity, and they didn’t have an unlimited supply. There would come a time when old-school warnings were all they had left.

“Get back to Burnt Amber no matter what. Carry the word,” the boy whispered.

“Good man.”

He realized that the mood was too damn dark and he couldn’t lead men who were half-convinced they were about to be massacred by a superior force. Shit, I’m so not cut out for this. The right words clotted in his throat, but dammit, he had to try.

Callum made a fist, raised it in a symbol of preemptive victory. “Just a precaution. We’re going to destroy that recon squad and properly fuck those Gols up. And when we get back, drinks are on me at Nayan’s. We’ll get stinking drunk and celebrate with the best singer ever to bless Burnt Amber.”

That was the right thing to say. A ragged cheer rumbled through the troops. Callum thought maybe Joss had been right when she said the soldiers needed a spark to raise their spirits. Some might not make it back, and the ones who did would need a panacea for their emotional wounds.

“Damn right,” Garven yelled.

That asshole was getting on Callum’s last nerve, especially when he remembered that fucking bet. They better not be pursuing that behind my back. He spared a dark look in Garven’s direction, but he didn’t say anything. If he got word of anymore stupid, disrespectful crap, he’d stomp the shit out of everyone involved.

“That’s it, let’s go,” he said.

With that, he slid into bear form, and for him, it didn’t feel that different from wearing human skin. He was a bit bigger and hairier, but otherwise, it didn’t change much. Callum lumbered out the wide doors and led the way through the tunnel. He could hear the soldiers following, including the boots of the four who had been chosen to fight with weapons and to carry gear.

The tenets of Saint Casimir whispered at the back of his head. Harm none, for dealing injury to another harms your own soul. He’d already broken that scripture, multiple times over. Since Saint Casimir had lived and died during peaceful times, he hadn’t covered how a monk was supposed to navigate the hellscape of war.

Twenty-five soldiers, against however many the Gols had on recon. To make matters worse, there were hundreds—if not thousands—camped around the border of the defensive grid and regardless of how Callum analyzed his options, he couldn’t see the war ending well for Burnt Amber, no matter how this battle went.

Grimly, he charged, lumbering through the tangle of trees that should conceal his group long enough for them to launch the ambush. The Gols would be preoccupied with searching for and disarming mines, worried about setting them off. This patch of land was clear for now; they had to destroy the Gols and plant new mines.

Before it was too late.

He broke from the pines first and slammed into the closest Gol. Luck was with them. Most of them hadn’t shifted yet, and the bears tore into their flesh with razor-sharp fangs and claws.

Gol blood tasted different than Eldritch, darker and saltier, more copper than sweet, with a tinge of heavy metals. Callum disemboweled his target with a swipe of claws and tackled a second, taking the Gol down before she could shift.

A snap of his jaws crushed her throat, and then he was onto the next. Forty of them, panicked but regrouping. Some managed to push into their stronger forms, and the battle dug in, brute bear strength against armored skin and monster talons.

He couldn’t understand base Gol but a huge bastard at the back of the group was snarling what had to be orders. If the leader dies, they’ll lose cohesion. Trusting his troops to cover his back, Callum charged straight through the chaos of the battle, taking glancing wounds that started to heal even as the claws dug into his fur.

He roared a challenge and lowered his head, running at the big Gol, who stood on two legs, even after the change, red-skinned like a devil from the illuminated manuscripts he’d mentioned to Joss, vestigial wings, and a face that would give a child nightmares, complete with two rows of gleaming teeth.

Though Callum went at the Gol leader with full strength, the asshole didn’t even flinch when their bodies hit. He wasn’t a clever fighter, so he took the pain when the bastard sank his claws deep into Callum’s back. Instead, he hoped his thick fur would protect him long enough.

Savagely, he clamped his teeth on his enemy’s leg and bit down with absolute force. There was resistance, as Gol hide was tougher than cured leather, but pure strength drove his teeth deep into the thigh meat. When he pulled back, his jaws were bloody, and he’d severed the femoral artery. He wrenched away and waited for the bastard to die.

The wounds on his back would heal. The Gol leader would not. The big bastard fell.

As Callum wheeled to fight another challenger, he hoped he lived long enough to hear Joss sing one more time.

7.

Joss dropped the shirt she was holding. “They’re fighting. Right now?”

The other three women stared at her with visible surprise at her strong reaction, and she bent to pick up the top, hoping that moment would be long enough to contain the fear rioting in her head. Callum wasn’t prudent or cautious; she could already tell that much about him.

“Are you all right?” Trini asked.

Over breakfast, she had learned that they were both elite members of the security team, also a mated pair. Instead of putting Joss and Renna to work, Trini and Emilia had asked them to go shopping, once they finished their meals. Since she still needed some stuff, she agreed, in exchange for someone willing to guide her to the bathhouse. Renna volunteered, so they’d headed to the shops as soon as they opened and Joss had been enjoying herself as well as she could, considering the circumstances. Until she found out the troops had gone out to battle the Gols.

Callum might be hurt. Or—no, I won’t think that way.

“I’m fine.” Somehow she managed a smile.

“Are you already falling for one of our fine soldiers?” Emilia teased.

Gods, Joss didn’t want the conversation to head down this avenue, but if she denied it too vehemently, it would make everyone more suspicious. “Who knows? There are a lot of interesting possibilities. I didn’t come here for that, though. The timing…” Her mouth twisted, as she hoped her meaning would come across.

Trini sighed. “I absolutely understand. Attraction doesn’t always respect propriety or preferences, though.”

A rueful laugh got away from Joss before she could stifle it. “That is so true.”

If she could control her heart, she wouldn’t have fallen for someone—at first sight no less and the absurdity of that wasn’t lost on her—who had no inclination toward intimacy. To conceal the sharp, visceral fear screaming in the back of her head, she replaced the shirt on the rack and grabbed the rest of the things she needed.

The store they were in had a little of everything, a one-stop shop, though Joss noticed the shelves were looking a little bare. Softly she asked Renna, “Have the Gols interfered with deliveries?”

Renna nodded. “Supplies have been stolen and while we’re not low on food yet, certain goods will be scarce until the end of the war.”

Joss turned a bottle of lotion over in her hands. The brand identified it as a product manufactured in Hallowell, and the factory probably wasn’t running anymore. This wasn’t the sort of thing the Gols would steal, but more of it wouldn’t be coming. All her life, she had taken certain small luxuries for granted; she saw that now.

Hell, she’d taken peace for granted.

Gently she set the cream in her basket. For a little longer, she could choose to smell like raspberry and lemon. The only thing she still needed was a performance dress. Between the donations and the clothes she had picked out today, Joss was fine for daily wear, but she didn’t sing in her street clothes. To wow the audience, she needed to look extraordinary.

“Not finding what you need?” Renna asked.

With a sigh, she confided the problem and Renna beamed a satisfied smile. “If that’s all, let’s visit the bathhouse—I promised I’d go with you, then you can borrow something from me. Depending on the cut, a few of my dresses should fit.”

Joss wasn’t so sure of that. She had a fuller figure, especially in the hips and bust, but maybe… hanging around this store wouldn’t cause a suitable gown to manifest, at any rate. She turned to Trini and Emilia.” We’re heading out. Thanks for including us.”

“Our pleasure.” Trini spoke for both of them, then addressed her mate. “You want to get coffee before we take that walk in the garden I promised you?”

Idly Joss wondered what kind of bears these two were. She could imagine Trini as a grizzly and Emilia as a red panda. Wait, were red pandas technically even bears? She decided it didn’t matter if her imagination was factually correct.

Waving to the other women, Joss followed Renna to pay for her purchases. As she set them down, she realized she didn’t have a local account yet, Nayan hadn’t paid her, and she didn’t have any proof that Callum had offered to cover her expenses, not that she intended to let him do that for long.

She hesitated as the pleasant, white-haired woman started tallying her items. “You must be Joss,” the clerk said cheerfully.

That cut into all her concerns. “What? I mean, I am but how do you know?”

“Callum stopped in yesterday to ask me to add you to his account. His description was enough for me to ID you on sight?”

“What did he say?” she asked, knowing she probably shouldn’t indulge that curiosity.

“Long hair. Not red. Not brown. Green eyes. New face.” The older woman mimicked Callum’s terse delivery, startling a laugh from Renna. The woman went on, “Since I’ve never seen you before—and I run into everyone sooner or later—it was a safe guess.”

“Oh. Then…thank you.”

It was impossible not to be touched that he’d taken the time to look out for her, even more when she recalled how opposed he had been to her coming to Burnt Amber in the first place. In the end, she got everything with no stress and Renna helped her cart the items back to her room.

“Bathhouse?” Renna asked.

“Just let me get the toiletries I bought.”

Though she hadn’t known Renna long, it was almost like bathing with Pru, lots of splashing and silly jokes. But all the while, it was impossible for Joss to forget that she didn’t even know if Callum was safe. Performing when she was in a crappy mood had given her a fair ability to cover her real feelings; just as well, because she didn’t want to discuss any of this with Renna. They were both newcomers to Burnt Amber, and Joss got on well with her, but she wasn’t ready to swap confidences.

After, she got dressed and accompanied Renna back to her quarters. The woman had a surprising number of beautiful dresses, or maybe not that surprising when Joss considered that she’d come to woo Beren. Beauty was one way to someone’s heart, she supposed, though that only worked if they were susceptible to visual lures.

Also, as Joss had feared, Renna had no sense of how slim she truly was. Most of the dresses Joss tried wouldn’t zip, but she found a stretchy red number that she could squirm into. Tighter than she normally preferred, but it would work, she decided, surveying herself from all angles. The design was deceptively simple, letting her body speak for itself.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll borrow this one.”

“I’m so glad you found something that works,” Renna said. “Do you need shoes?”

She hadn’t bought any new ones, so that would be a yes. They found a pair that laced up her ankles, a little long, but otherwise okay.

“You really saved me. Thank you.” On impulse, she hugged Renna and got a gentle squeeze. “I hope we can hang out again soon. Right now, I need to head to Nayan’s and see if she’ll let me rehearse.”

“Definitely.” That had to be a response to the request to first comment. “I’ll be there to cheer you on tonight!”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Renna put the dress and shoes in a handbag. “Here, you probably don’t even have a purse with you.”

That…was also true. “You’re doing too much. I won’t be able to repay you.”

“That’s not why people help others,” Renna said, narrowing her eyes.

“I know, but…ah, hey, do you like sweaters?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“I’ll knit you one! Provided I can find the supplies here.”

Renna grinned. “I doubt there’s been a run on needles and yarn.”

“Awesome! What’s your favorite color?”

“It’s orange. Warm flame tones anyway.” Something flickered in Renna’s expression, but Joss didn’t know her well enough to read it.

“I can’t promise professional quality, but I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Already planning the pattern, Joss hurried out, eager to get what she needed before she headed to Nayan’s. Already, she could get from her building to the entertainment complex, no problem.

Staying busy might even keep her from worrying herself sick.

Bloody awful.

Those two words described the scene and Callum’s mood. They had taken out the recon unit, all forty of them, but it cost five bears, including Trini and Emilia’s replacements. He still didn’t know their names, and it was a shit move to ask, now that they were dead.

“How long on the mines?” he snapped.

“Another half an hour at least,” the tech answered.

He’d shifted back, so he was bloody and naked, standing amid a field of bodies. The birds had already started eating the dead Gols. He shooed the scavengers away from the Burnt Amber bodies. Maybe this was a sentimental decision, but he couldn’t do otherwise, even if it weakened them.

“Five of you, take our dead back to the hold. We’ll have services tomorrow.”

Garven was the first to object “That will only leave—”

“You heard me,” Callum cut in.

Yeah, he damn well knew how many would be left guarding the techs while they finished setting the new mines. They had to rake the whole area; otherwise, it would be too obvious where the new ones went in. He was moving soil to finish the work faster, nothing he hadn’t done in the order.

“Fine,” Garven said. From his tone, he didn’t like this call. “I’ll lead the returning team. With your approval.”

That didn’t particularly sound like a request to Callum, but he wasn’t about to start a dick-swinging contest with Garven. Not that it’d be a competition from what he’d seen. He grunted his assent and kept moving after the techs.

After the squad split up, the next hour was both tedious and nerve-wracking. Any minute, more Gols could hit them, and they were woefully undermanned. His nerves stretched tighter and tighter as he worked and surveyed the tree line in all directions.

Only basic confidence in the grid and in the security team who should be scanning with drones and who would surely deploy one to serve as a physical warning kept him calm. Still, he was sweating, despite the nip in the spring air, from the tension.

Finally, the tech said, “Done. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Callum did one more pass and then he nodded, satisfied at how thoroughly the earth was churned. It looked like the whole area might be seeded with fresh explosives.

“Travel back however you want,” he said.

A few shifted, but most jogged as they were, too tired to spare the energy to change. The ones who had been bears the whole way stayed in that form, so a near even mix of people and bears rambled back to the entrance to the tunnels. Callum studied the area carefully to make sure there were no witnesses, then he opened the entrance and stumbled into the darkness. His whole body hurt from half-healed wounds, already scabbed over, but damn sore.

He waited for everyone to pass, then secured the hatch. The others didn’t wait, he was the last one back to the ready room. It didn’t take much empathy to register the grim mood that kept everyone quiet as they changed. Didn’t seem right to celebrate when they’d lost five of their own, and the victory didn’t feel decisive anyway, more like they’d bought some time.

With bleak resolve, Callum ran the numbers in his head and realized that at the current rate of attrition, he’d lose the rest of his soldiers before the Gols ran out of bodies to throw at the mines, and then there would only be civilians left to battle the elite Golgoth soldiers. Never had he felt so hopeless. Once, it was close, but that was a simpler, more personal despair. This feeling encompassed all the souls who lived in Burnt Amber, and who thought he could find some miraculous way to save them. But Saint Casimir didn’t specialize in miracles.

Callum trudged out into the courtyard, long after the rest of the squad headed to the bathhouse. He had no idea how long it had been since breakfast, and he was fucking starved, but before he ate a single morsel, he needed to visit the families who didn’t know yet that their children weren’t coming home.

As he stood, trying to figure out if he should visit the morgue first or ask Jere to help him make an address list, Joss bounded out of the shops nearby, arms wrapped around a package that bulged with yarn of all things. And her expression was just so gleeful that an answering smile tugged at the edges of his mouth.

Callum knew the moment she spotted him because her arms loosened on the bag, and she took two steps, like she was about to drop everything and run to him. He’d never seen such naked joy in anybody’s face before. Fucking never. Her gaze skimmed him from head to toe, seeking reassurance that he was whole. And he felt it, like she was touching him everywhere. His skin prickled to life, and the sensation was so strong that he could barely breathe.

Then she took a breath. Checked herself and mastered her expression. When she came to him, it was in sedate steps. Part of him wished that she could’ve just run, hugged him hard if she wanted to that much. Because it felt fucking incredible to know that she was so happy to see him.

When he’d done nothing to deserve it.

“You’re okay,” she whispered, like his physical well-being was a secret they were keeping. Together.

His heart galloped in his chest, breathing her in discreetly, little gulps of raspberry and lemon that he shouldn’t be noticing. Not when he smelled of death. Of blood. Of heartbreak.

“More or less.”

She leaned in. “Injured. How bad?”

“I’ll heal. If you need anything, it’ll have to keep. I have…something important to do.” The pause revealed more than he wished about the grim nature of the task.

“Let me help you,” she offered at once.

“It looks like you’re busy.” And what could she do anyway? But he wasn’t precisely eager to pass on bad news alone when his social skills were so rusty.

“Not at all. Give me five minutes to drop this stuff off, then I’ll accompany you.”

“You’re not even asking what I have to do?”

She shook her head quickly, burnished curls tumbling in the motion. Callum imagined that her hair would be soft, maybe even softer than her hand. The one he’d barely touched.

“Fine. Meet me outside the security office. You know where that is?”

“I’ll find it.”

Without consciously deciding, he headed to consult with Jere, who wrote down who he needed to visit. If the families wanted Callum to go to the morgue with them after they heard the bad news, he’d hold on somehow. Loss and anger warred in his head, leaving accusations in the wreckage. Only the fact that Joss was coming back kept him calm, and hell if he knew why, but her friendship was like an umbilical that let him breathe while the water rose over his head.

“Ready,” she said, pulling him from particularly dire thoughts.

“I have to tell the bereaved families about the soldiers we lost. Still want to help?”

“Oh. Want is the wrong word,” she said softly. “But I’m here for you. And them. Would it be okay if I sang a hymn with them in honor of the fallen?”

That…it was beautiful. Perfect. Exactly the sort of thing he never would have thought of his own. Kindness cost nothing, but he hadn’t learned that virtue in the order. Saint Casimir hadn’t been a tender soul, and he didn’t preach about helping others, just about not hurting them.

“Thank you,” he said then.

“For what?”

He cleared his threat, struggling to get the words out past the tightening emotions. Relief. Longing. Other feelings he refused to scrutinize. “Being my friend. Hell if I know why you want to, kit, but… it means a lot to me.”

Dammit. I used the nickname that I’ve only ever said in my head.

Her eyes went liquid, shining as if he’d given her a box full of precious gems. The warmth of that look glided over him, tangible as a caress. He fought the rush of purely physical response.

“You’re welcome, truly. Hey, what’s your favorite color?” Judging from her expression, she had a reason for asking.

He wondered what it was. “Why?”

“Just tell me.”

“Green,” he said. It always had been, but her eyes… “Definitely.”

8.

This is the second hardest thing I’ve ever done, Joss thought.

The first was identifying Leon Bristow’s body and trying to comfort her mother afterward. It was good that she had volunteered to go with Callum because his manner as he informed each family was too calm, cool and remote, and their shock might have given way to anger over his apparent indifference if Joss hadn’t stepped forward, held each of their hands, and then led them in the most beautiful rendition of “Carry Them Home” she could muster. Some of the family members sang along; others held each other and cried. Now they stood outside the final door. One more time, and they would be done with this heartbreaking task.

Callum, frankly, didn’t look good. More than the pallor beneath his normal tawny-hued skin, she thought she saw his hands trembling before he shoved them into the pockets of his brown jacket. Joss knocked before he could, deciding to bear the burden for this final call.

A woman of indeterminate age opened the door, and Joss already hated what she was about to say. It was clear that she recognized Callum, because her expression clouded over as she stepped back to invite them in.

Without preamble, Callum said, “I regret to inform you that your daughter, Eloise, didn’t make it. She died a hero defending Burnt Amber from the Gols. I’m sorry for your loss.”

The woman’s knees gave out and she dropped to the floor, sobs bursting forth with a heartbroken intensity. Joss gestured above the woman’s head and Callum moved as if his bones were filled with lead, but he did bend to awkwardly pat the woman’s shoulder. When she rose up and latched onto him, sobbing into his broad chest, he stared at Joss in horror. She pantomimed a hug.

If the order didn’t understand him offering a grieving woman comfort, then they could go to hell. Slowly, he knelt and cradled Eloise’s mother, patting her back with big hands.

Wish he had been there when my dad died.

She turned away to give them privacy, studying the pictures on the wall. All the photos showed two people, first a woman and child, then two women. Damn. I think Eloise was all she had.

“I didn’t want her to join the security team, even as an alternate. I knew, I just knew…” Tears stole the rest of her words. The woman cried in Callum’s arms for a long time.

Joss busied herself making tea and when the woman calmed enough, she served a cup and helped her to a chair. “Would you like me to sing in her honor?”

“That… I’d like that.”

Closing her eyes, she let the emotions of the hymn fill her soul before the first notes left her mouth. This time, the grieving mother didn’t cry aloud; she didn’t sing either. The tears slipped down her cheeks silently as Joss implored the goddess to carry such a precious soul home.

When she finished, she said, “Do you have anyone who can stay with you? Just let us know and we’ll have them come over.”

The woman stood. “That’s kind of you, but I’ll go to my friend’s house after I pack a few things.”

Callum bowed deeply, both hands folded. It must be something he’d learned in the order because Joss didn’t recognize the gesture. The woman seemed pleased by the respect inherent in the display, though. She walked them out and as soon as the door closed, Callum stumbled, one hand braced on the wall.

Joss ran to him and put a hand on his forehead. Fever-hot. This close, she could see that he was shaking all over, sickness or exhaustion, possibly both. “How long has it been since you had anything to eat?”

He didn’t even bat her hands away; that was how shitty he must be feeling. “I’m not sure. This morning, I think.”

She noted that he wasn’t sure. “Let’s get you home. I’ll grab some food from the cafeteria after I get you settled.”

“You don’t have to—”

“This is literally what friends do,” she said. “Now stop arguing. If you pass out, I won’t be able to manage on my own, and I’m sure you don’t want the rest of Burnt Amber to know that you’re not absolutely impervious to all weakness.”

“Shut up.”

When he stepped away from the wall and let her shoulder some of his weight, she got scared. She could feel the tremors wracking his big body, and it took all her considerable strength to get him back to their building. The stairs nearly defeated them both, but resting regularly got them all the way up. Finally, Joss helped him into bed.

“Don’t move,” she warned. “Don’t go to sleep yet either. You have to eat something first. I’ll hurry.”

Joss bolted from the room, and she ran all the way to the caf, quickly assessing the options. Chicken soup seemed like the safest, so she got a takeaway container of that, along with some fruit she could slice for him. There were a few people who acted like they might start a conversation, and she pretended not to see them as she waited for the clerk to charge the total to Callum’s account. Once the food was bagged up, she ran out like she was being chased.

“In a hurry?” someone called. “Too bad, I wanted to chat, pretty cat.”

That sounded like Garven, but she didn’t turn to confirm. The errand took less than ten minutes, but she was still worried when she got back to Callum’s room. She’d left the door unlocked, but she bolted it behind her. There was nothing scandalous going on, but he wouldn’t want anyone else to see him this way.

Callum was still in bed, not asleep but groggy, when she went into his bedroom. Joss helped him prop up on the pillows and he took the container of soup with shaky hands. He shoveled the food in with grim determination, and to her, it seemed like he wasn’t even hungry, but he knew his body needed food, especially after a day of battling in bear form.

As he ate, she cut up the apples and passed the fruit to him, slice by slice. He devoured that in silence too. When everything was gone, he quietly said, “Thanks.”

“I’ll make you a drink,” she said.

Probably not tea, but some herbal hot drink would help. He didn’t argue, but when she came back in ten minutes, he was already asleep. Joss pulled the covers up and wished she had the right to smooth the tousled hair from his forehead.

With an aching heart, she gazed down at him and finally pulled herself away with slow, reluctant steps. In the other room, she checked the time. No chance for rehearsal now. But she could wait a little while here to make sure he didn’t need anything before she had to get ready for her first show.

Joss tidied up the remnants of the meal and went back into Callum’s room to drop off the tisane she’d brewed. He’d kicked off his covers, his skin glistening with sweat.

I didn’t imagine the fever.

There was no question that she’d leave him this way. If she hurried her makeup, she could stay for half an hour more. Joss filled a bowl with cool water in the half bath, got a cloth, and went back to tend him.

There’s nothing wrong about me doing this. And even if there was, she wasn’t leaving him alone and miserable.

She tried to keep her touch impersonal as she smoothed away the sweat from his face and arms. The coolness seemed to soothe him and he stopped scowling and struggling. Wish I could touch him. But the cloth formed a necessary barrier to learning the lines of his body, something that would certainly cross the boundaries they’d set.

When he seemed calmer and more comfortable, she pulled the sheet back over him. “I have to go now. I’ll come back after the show to check on you.”

For an endless moment, she feasted on him visually. Even sick and incoherent, he was beautiful, soft lashes against strong cheeks. There was something impossibly moving about a strong man in need of care.

Joss reached out, wanting to touch him so badly that her hand shook, but just before her fingers met his hair, she pulled back. He trusts me. I can’t.

Quietly, she went to play her role for the rest of the troops, a silly cat who was born to sing.

Callum had no idea what time it was, but his room was dark. He didn’t entirely remember coming to bed, but his memory gave him patchy glimmers of Joss, passing him apple slices, gently wiping at his face with a cool cloth. Did that really happen?

His head swam as he sat up, and he realized at once that he wasn’t alone. Joss was asleep in the chair next to his bed with a bowl of water on the floor beside her. There was a damp towel in her hand, so she must have dozed off while ministering to him.

Of all things, he got pissed that he’d missed her first show. He should be angry at finding her in his room, too much intimacy in waking up next to someone, even if they didn’t share the bed. But he couldn’t muster even a smidgen of indignation over receiving her care.

The fever seemed to have broken, leaving him a little weak, but nothing food and sleep wouldn’t cure. He couldn’t imagine how he would’ve coped without her, a humbling realization.

The moonlight was good to her, making her look like a perfectly carved statue. Daylight didn’t do her justice, as if hers was a secret nocturnal beauty—that of pure lines and deep shadows. He could have stared at her for hours, freed from the need to pretend that he didn’t burn because she existed. Except her eyes opened, and she was gazing back at him. Catching him in that moment of naked longing.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

His heart twisted. Why did she care so much? He had done nothing to merit her regard, but he was starting to crave it. This was like watching the earth he’d built a house on slowly crumble away while knowing there was nothing he could do to shore up that diminishing foundation.

Sooner or later, I’m going to fall.

Callum hardly knew if that prospect filled him with exultation or dread.

“I’m fine,” he said, scarcely recognizing his own voice.

Perhaps she’d take that deep huskiness as a relic of his illness when he knew that the rasp came from finding Joss in his bedroom in the middle of the night. There was a limit to how much provocation he could resist. Part of him didn’t even want to fight the pull. Falling could be fun; it was the crash at the bottom that hurt.

She frowned, evidently not sensing how much danger she was in. Her words were stern. “Hardly. You spend all your time and energy looking out for others. It’s no wonder you got sick.”

“You’re scolding me?”

Why is it so adorable when she yells at me? Callum wouldn’t put up with this from anyone else, but he could’ve listened to Joss chastise him for hours. Maybe it’s her voice. Even when she was annoyed, it was still golden and musical, lilting the litany of complaints she had regarding his lack of self-care.

“You’re not even listening!” she accused.

“To your words? Not really, kit.”

Suddenly, ridiculously, he felt like laughing. Everything was terrible, untenable, maybe even unsolvable, but his spirit lightened as if she’d filled it with some anesthetic that made him want to laugh.

“I’m not a kit.”

“Trust me,” Callum said. “I’m well aware.”

“Then why do you call me that?”

Callum smirked. “I wonder.”

He wasn’t about to tell her that it was more of an endearment, one he couldn’t control, even when he was irritated with her. Those moments came less and less these days. He had no handle on his emotions any longer, and with his heart in turmoil, his body followed. Callum ached for her with an intensity that only grew with every consideration she showed, every kindness she offered.

Is it truly this easy to make me forsake my vows? The worst part, she wasn’t even trying. She wanted to be his bloody friend. Even when he had been mostly insensate, she’d been careful about how and where she touched him.

She stood with an adorable huff. “Never mind. Do you think you can tolerate the covers now?” Without waiting for a response, she tugged the blanket up from where it was folded at the foot of the bed, gently tucking it around his body, and the gentle scrape of her fingers along his sides, even through multiple layers of fabric created a powerful rush. His skin tingled.

For the first time since he’d joined the order, his cock hardened for someone else, urgent and riotous. He’d had erections, of course, but they were easy to ignore.

This one, not so much, mostly because Joss was so close, smoothing the covers and smelling of raspberries. He’d never thought that was a particularly seductive scent until this moment.

Callum fisted his hands in the covers to keep from reaching for her. “It’s late. You should go.”

Before it’s too late.

The strain must have communicated itself to her, but she read it the wrong way. Worry dropped her to her knees beside the bed, and she pressed her cool palm to his forehead. “You’re feeling worse?”

He swallowed a groan as he imagined her soft hand sweeping down his body. I wonder how she tastes. He wanted to find out, and he absolutely shouldn’t let her stay a moment longer.

Through clenched teeth, he got out, “I’m a monk, not a statue. Think about the situation, will you?”

Inhaling through her nose, she scrambled backward. But she didn’t retreat entirely. Joss had Animari senses just as he did, and Callum pulled the covers across his face, aware that she must be breathing in his pheromones, proof of his arousal. Sometimes their shared skillset was fucking inconvenient.

“Oh,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know you weren’t. This is my fault. You were…being a good friend.” Not that he had much experience with those either.

She breathed in. Out. And it played hell with his head because he understood exactly what she was experiencing. Only as he did the same, his whole body went hot with what he was tasting, the spiced brightness of her response. She was two meters away and she wanted him.

Middle of the night. Nobody would know.

“That’s not entirely true,” she said.

“What’s not?”

Her next words had the tone of a confession. “I’ve been fighting my feelings since the first time I saw you. I thought it would be okay if we became friends—that I could force those inappropriate desires into harmless channels.”

Help me, Saint Casimir.

No assistance was forthcoming. Even in the dark, he could see her face too clearly: the tumble of her hair, the shine of her hair, the curve of her cheek, and the swell of her breasts.

A rueful smile escaped him. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not at all. I still want things I can’t have. I still want…” She bit her lip, swallowing the rest of her sentence.

Callum bitterly envied her teeth. Intensely, he gazed at her mouth, the soft indent, then he turned his eyes to the ceiling, not expecting any divine intervention. He was locked in this moment, alone with his greatest temptation.

“I was right to run from you. It’s impossible to be near you without…”

“Without what?”

Wanting. Needing. Taking.

He’d failed at the first two, and the last, well, he was hanging on by a thread. She might not get out of this room before he lost everything he cherished. Losing everything might be worth it if it meant gaining her.

“You know already, kit. You said yourself, that you felt it first.”

“It?”

Maybe she wasn’t trying to torment him, but he wasn’t used to discussing such matters, and just acknowledging the pull between them felt like foreplay. In a guttural voice, he said, “The yearning. You felt it when you first saw me. I felt it when I first heard you sing. And it’s stronger now.”

Her tone filled with air, sweetness that went right to his head, muddying his thoughts. “I shouldn’t be, but I’m so glad it’s not just me.”

Callum groaned, his gaze drawn back to her with an irresistible tug. “No, kit. We’re in this together.”

9.

Joss knew she should leave.

Yet if she did, she would probably never glimpse Callum’s internal workings again. This hint of vulnerability came from a unique cross-section of illness and exhaustion. He would probably regret letting her in this much once she retreated.

She didn’t want to seduce him, but she couldn’t lose the ground she’d gained either.

Slowly, she slid out of chair and knelt at his bedside like a penitent. “What should we do?” she asked.

He drew a slow breath in through his nose, then he let go of the covers and his hand drifted toward her. Only he stopped short of touching her and left his palm facing up at the edge of the bed. Joss wasn’t sure what she was meant to do, but he didn’t seem to know either. Callum was still staring up at the ceiling as if there might be solutions written in ultraviolet ink.

Hesitantly, she set her hand atop his. That skin-on-skin contact sent a shock of sensation through her that made the top of her head tingle. Trying to calm her racing heart, she measured the difference in size. Her fingertips barely came to his first knuckle and the whole of her hand nested in the center of his. Slowly, his fingers furled inward, threading through hers, and she swallowed a moan over the smooth slide. Joss was acutely conscious of his thumb moving slowly over the soft skin of her wrist. Her entire body waited for each slow sweep, for the faintest brush of his fingertips.

“I should send you away,” he whispered. “Can you pull back and let me go?”

The chills were spreading, like she’d caught the fever from him, rippling down her back. It was as if he could touch her with only his voice, deep and rumbling across her body in a caressing wave.

“I was wrong,” she said unsteadily. “It’s not better this way, especially if you force me to be the prudent one.”

“Is that not your forte, kit?”

She shook her head, acutely conscious of his hand on hers, his thumb still slowly circling on her wrist. He could undoubtedly feel the racing of her pulse.

“You know it’s not. I specialize in recklessness, just look at how I wound up here in the first place.”

His tone was musing. “That’s certainly true. Why do you suppose I’d ask a wildcat to keep me in check?”

“Because I’m the missing lynx?” That was such a terrible pun that she momentarily felt ashamed of making it, even if it was to diffuse the unbearable sexual tension.

Until he laughed. Callum fucking laughed at her awful joke, not a pity chuckle either, a full-on, throaty guffaw. And the sound melted her heart into a buttery puddle.

Everything he does is absurdly adorable.

Gods knew, he’d hate being described that way, but she hadn’t found a single aspect that she disliked. And it seemed as if the joke gave him the strength to let go. He pulled his hand from hers and tousled her hair, a friendly gesture that filled her with dangerous joy.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Though Joss thought she knew, she still asked, “For what?”

“For not pushing me over the edge. I had a good long look at the rocks below, then you hauled me back.”

She bit her lip, trying to decide whether to say this. Then she shrugged mentally. Everything else was already out there anyway.

“I refuse to be a moment of weakness,” she said softly. “If you come to me, it will be a conscious choice, not because you failed a test. I won’t represent your biggest failure. Rather, I want to become your greatest love. More than your devotion to the order, even more than your duty to Burnt Amber.”

His breath caught, and Callum’s hand stilled on her head. “Joss—”

“Don’t say it,” she cut in. “I’m not part of your life plan, so I won’t hold my breath, and I won’t try to sway you, but you can’t keep me from harboring deep and soulful dreams.”

“I’m a right bastard,” he groaned.

“Why do you say that?”

“I have no intention of taking you for myself, but I don’t want anyone else to have you. So I can’t say it’s bad to hear that you’re waiting.”

Absurd joy bubbled through her, buoyant and effervescent. “Does it bother you when others show interest?”

“You think it was rational how I reacted to the soldiers betting on who would sleep with you first? I wanted to put Garven through a wall. Still do, actually.” Before she could speak, he held up a hand. “Don’t take that as encouragement. I’m fully aware that my responses are inconsistent and after tonight, I’m not talking about any of this again.”

Her heart hurt. That was the signal Joss needed to pull herself to her feet. “I’ll warm up the herbal tea before I go. You should drink some before you go back to sleep.”

“It’s only a few hours before dawn. I’ll get up now,” he said.

She frowned, wishing she had the right to insist that he take better care of himself. “Didn’t you learn anything? If you don’t sleep and eat enough, you won’t be able to do what you need to for everyone else.”

Callum ignored the reproof and moved to get out of bed. Joss scrambled to make room, and her feet tangled in the covers so she tipped backward, and he moved faster than she’d realized he could, grabbing her with both arms. But he used his full strength and she slammed into his chest hard enough to lose her breath.

Then she couldn’t breathe for other reasons because she was pressed fully against him, reveling in the breadth and strength of him, feeling each jerky inhalation, each quickening thump of his heart.

Gods, but he smells good.

The feel of his body seared into her nerve endings, and her hands flexed with the need to touch him. Dig her fingers into his back and find out what sounds he would make when he lost control and finally—

A groan escaped him as Joss shifted, fighting her instincts. He still hadn’t let her go. In fact, it felt like he was pulling her against him even more, so much that his hard cock nudged into her stomach, big and burning hot, like every part of him.

“Be still,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t move for a minute. Don’t even breathe if you can help it. I’m positive that I’m being punished.”

It was impossible not to imagine the delicious feats of strength he could pull off without half-trying. With one arm, he could pin her against the wall and—

Stop it.

Joss tried to respect his request, but it wasn’t easy when she could feel the massive power of his physical response. Trembling, he lowered his head and rubbed his face against the top of her head; the slide of his bearded jaw offered a shocking rasp of sensation. Then he mastered himself, stepping back with a clumsiness that landed him on the edge of the bed.

“Get out. Now. Before I lose my mind.”

The sexual menace of that tone sent Joss running, not because she feared he’d hurt her, but she’d meant it when she said she didn’t want to be an impulse he regretted. She rushed out, omitting the tisane she’d offered before, and she didn’t stop until she got inside her own room. Still trembling, she leaned heavily against the door and indulged in the memory of how he’d felt, holding her with such desperate desire.

Then it wasn’t enough to remember. She rushed to the bedroom and stripped and touched herself with practiced hands, imagining that they belonged to Callum. Each stroke, each pinch, each tease, until she twisted with pleasure, and the orgasm crashed over her in relentless waves. Panting, she licked her fingers afterward.

Hopeless as it might be, she didn’t want anyone else. Not like this. For Joss, sex had always been enjoyable, but not especially intense yet she’d received an inordinate amount of pleasure just from touching Callum’s hand.

She wondered how he was coping, if he was headed to the bathhouse for an icy soak. That put the mental picture of his big, naked body in her head, and she had to go again. Sweaty and exhausted, she fell into a fitful sleep…and dreamed of him.

Callum didn’t mean to fall asleep.

After Joss fled, he tumbled back onto the bed with a groan and he closed his eyes to block the punishing, seductive sensations. The next thing he knew, Joss was in bed with him. And that… it couldn’t be real. She’d clearly left before, so this must be a dream, though he had no recollection of dozing off.

Not surprising, but he didn’t try to wake himself up. Here, he wasn’t responsible for what happened. No man could be blamed for what fantasies his unconscious mind conjured. When she tugged at his shirt in silence, Callum pulled his shirt off.

The rest of their clothes vanished in dream-style. No need for such things, and they were gone. Only her silky skin remained, and she touched him—her hands are magical—and she dug her sharp-cat nails into his chest. Callum growled, a low and guttural sound. She was uncharacteristically quiet, bending to kiss him.

Gods, finally.

He’d wanted her beautiful, gifted mouth on him ever since he first heard her sing. Her lips tasted like citrus and summer, sweetness and sunshine. Here, he didn’t need to hold back. He could have everything he wanted, nothing forbidden.

For long moments, he kissed her so deeply that she moaned into his mouth, and then he tumbled her backward, biting down on her neck, shoulders, soothing the nips with lips and tongue. Callum feasted on her breasts until she was squirming, then he licked lower, nuzzling her soft stomach. When her whole body twisted, he moved lower still and threw her legs over his shoulders.

Such a delicious pussy.

He didn’t need to be ashamed of wanting this, not now. Burying his face in her, he licked until her juices ran freely, teased her clit with his tongue, and thrust two fingers inside her. She came bucking on his face, drenching his beard in her fluids.

His cock ached so fiercely, no need to resist. She was soft and loving with satiation, welcoming when he sank into her. She was tight, so he had to go slow, letting her relax around his sizable cock. Inch by inch, he sank deeper, until she eased fully and wrapped her thighs around his hips.

No need to speak, just fuck.

He started slow but he couldn’t keep that rhythm. Soon he was slamming into her as hard as he could, shaking the whole bed. He grunted each time he seated fully, the need to come tingling in his balls and at the base of his spine.

It’s been so fucking long.

Joss held onto him with all her strength, coming a second time all over his throbbing cock. Those pulses broke the last of his restraint, and he thrust faster. The orgasm overwhelmed him, so powerful that his legs went to jelly, and he collapsed on top of her, his cock jerking and spurting in a release he had resisted for years.

Callum woke humping a tangle of blankets, his semen sticky on the fabric. He waited for the rush of shame because the order didn’t permit masturbation, but he could only revel in the glowing satisfaction.

With a groan, he rolled over and let his heart rate steady. There was no denying how much he wanted Joss anymore. For him to craft such a specific and erotic dream, he must be skating toward obsession. Part of him was even looking forward to the next time he went to bed, hoping for another explicit and gratifying dream.

While Saint Casimir hadn’t written anything about dealing with nocturnal emission, Callum felt sure that the order would take a dim view of him possessing so little control over his own mental state. The abbot hadn’t even wanted to let him answer the call when Callum found out that he’d abruptly inherited leadership at Burnt Amber.

“That’s not your world any longer, son,” the abbot had said. “The sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll be.”

Callum had argued and taken leave, promising to return when the war ended and things were more settled with his secular kin. Which was why he had no help from the order, as he’d left without the abbot’s blessing. The old man was still muttering about prideful cubs when Callum took off.

It hadn’t been easy for a man of his grandiose appetites to live a celibate life, but he’d acclimated to it and been better off. Or so he’d thought. Now, it was hard to argue with the rush of endorphins he’d almost forgotten.

When he accepted that he just wasn’t going to feel guilty or ashamed about this, Callum got up, bundled his linens for the laundry, then he went to the bathroom to wash off a bit. Even basic hygiene felt a little different, as his skin was more sensitive after the blistering orgasm. His nipples tightened as he washed himself, and it took considerable self-control not to let the cleansing become more erotic.

Damn it all. My motor’s running again.

It had taken months of meditation to turn off that aspect of himself, but his libido was alive now, hungry and alert. And as he knew all too well, he tended to fixate on one person, well beyond what was sane or reasonable. Soon, he’d crave Joss to the point that she’d start to run from him. Right now, she sensed the pull between them, but she hadn’t glimpsed the dark side yet, the endless chasm of need in him that could never be filled.

Cursing softly, he finished up and gathered his things for an ice plunge. That was the least popular pool in the bathhouse but Callum sensed he’d be using it a lot from here on out.

It wasn’t quite dawn when he stepped out of his room, so he was surprised to find Renna passing by. She stopped when his door opened, but she seemed nervous, though Callum had no idea if it was simply his demeanor or an indication of a deeper issue.

“Good morning,” he said, wishing for the hundredth time that he knew how to treat her.

“You’re up early.”

Callum tried for a friendly smile, but his face didn’t cooperate. He could tell from her expression that he looked scary. “Usually am. The order doesn’t encourage sloth.”

“I imagine not. Well, I’m headed to take a bath, so—”

“I’m headed that way too. Shall we walk together?”

“Oh.” She seemed nonplused, as if she hadn’t expected him to offer. “Of course.”

Objectively speaking, Renna was more beautiful than Joss. There was no logical reason why he didn’t respond to her, except that maybe there were certain lines he couldn’t cross even in his own head. This woman had been chosen by his uncle, so even if they hadn’t mated, she was still off-limits? No, that wasn’t it.

Callum had always been…peculiar. He didn’t feel much of anything for most people, didn’t process affection or attraction the way others did. There were only minor exceptions, sparks of color and obsession in a monochrome world, and he could never identify what trait would catalyze the start of that emotional whirlwind because it was different each time. He hated living that way too, especially when the object of his interest invariably found him to be too much, a noose to escape rather than the lover they wanted to spend their lives with.

The brotherhood was safe, respite from that destructive cycle. For him, love wasn’t a gentle tide; it was a typhoon that left wreckage in its wake.

Without speaking, he held the door for Renna. She didn’t make conversation with him, and the silence was awkward. He’d seen her chatting cheerfully with others, so he must be the problem.

The darkness outside was lightening at the edges, pink and silver whispering of brightness to come. That felt like a false promise. Later today, he had to lead services for the lost soldiers. Ridiculous as it was, he was also the spiritual head of Burnt Amber, responsible for comforting all these aching souls.

And instead of writing homilies in his head, instead of planning devotions that would sooth the heartsore, this monk was thinking about how Joss would look, completely naked and beautifully impaled on his cock.

10.

So beautiful.

By rights, Joss should be referring to the chapel. The architecture was ornate and exquisitely embellished, frescoes and scrollwork, gabled windows glowing with stained glass, scenes from various religious stories. One pane showed Anwen’s Ride; another the first lighting of the candles in the rite of spring.

Everything was smooth stone and burnished, ancient wood, but she had no attention to spare for those details. Instead, she couldn’t take her eyes off Callum. From her seat in the first row, tucked between Trini and Renna, she ate him with her eyes, deciding something must be deeply askew in her head.

Before today, Joss had never seen Callum in his official attire, somberly robed in midnight blue, a belt of silver cord tied around his waist. His hair was tamed, caught in a topknot, and his beard sported two braids, doubtless symbolic of something. Ceremonial significance aside, it was also sexy as hell. Stormy eyes, thick and sullen brows, and a sensual mouth that he tried to hide.

It was immoral that she still found him fucking irresistible, even wearing full monk regalia. As he led the service and lit the candles for the memorial, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. This fixation felt like the start of a fetish. Why couldn’t she feel the same about someone else, some more attainable?

She was so involved in her thoughts that she almost missed her cue. Quickly, she got up and rushed to the front to offer musical tribute to the fallen. Despite a rocky start, she poured herself into the music, singing with a pure torrent of emotion, and when she came back to herself, over half of the mourners were weeping, some silently, others in gasping sobs. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe; it was like seeing her father’s body all over again, the smell of cordite and crumbling plaster choking her.

I can’t do this.

It cut too close, and she stepped off the stage, hoping it wasn’t obvious how much she was trembling. Joss clung to the railing and paced herself to the wall. Now that her part was done, she could escape and hide in her room until she felt steadier.

Just one more. Only one.

In the crowd, she lost track of Callum, surrounded by a congregation in need of consolation. Shuffling her feet, she nearly made it to the door, when suddenly Garven was beside her, offering his arm.

“You look peaked,” he said. “Know how you feel. I hate funerals too.”

That wasn’t why. Joss didn’t want to accept his assistance, but if she didn’t, it might cause greater drama. After a short hesitation, she set her hand on his arm and let him lead her out of the chapel.

Outside, away from the press of the crowd and the intense smell of candles and incense, the fresh air braced her. Enough that she let go at once and said, “I’m fine now. Thanks.”

“I’ll walk you—”

“Garven.” Somehow, Callum was there, arms folded across his broad chest. He radiated a barely-leashed menace, like a tornado in human form.

“Yes, boss?” Garven seemed to think he was quite the irresistible lady’s man, but not so much while wearing that peevish expression.

He doesn’t seriously think he has a shot? Joss had been shooting down self-absorbed sods for more than ten years.

“Could you help Sarai Jessup? She wants to invite Eloise’s friends from the guard over as a sort of farewell party, but she isn’t sure who to ask. I haven’t been around long enough to know.”

It was a reasonable excuse for the interruption, and Garven nodded, his irritation fading. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Thanks.” Even that simple word held an edge, a hint of a snarl.

I’m not imagining this, right? She hadn’t hallucinated the encounter yesterday, even if it was all but impossible to look straight at Callum’s face, after her incredibly vivid dream about him eating her pussy like a champion, and then fucking her until she went boneless.

Damn my dirty mind.

Garven didn’t seem to notice the tension or the nuance as he turned to Joss. “Give me a few, okay? You still don’t look good.”

Like hell.

The minute his back was turned, she tried to head the other way, only to find a big hand on her arm, firmly controlling but not painful. With a demand that wouldn’t be denied, Callum led her around the chapel to where the shadows fell thick and deep.

“Are you sick?” he demanded. “If I gave you what I had last night—”

“It’s not like that,” she cut in.

“Tell me what it’s like then.”

There were no words.

Her entire body still felt weak, an inevitable result of the panic attack she’d barely fought off. Even now, she might still shake to pieces and go back in her head to the worst day of her life. To the explosions and the darkness, the soot in her lungs, and the sound of children screaming—

“Whoa, kit.”

She didn’t realize she was swaying until he caught her, for once not seeming to consider what people would think if they caught him cradling her against his chest. Oh gods, this is perfect. He felt huge, but exactly in the way she’d imagined—that nobody could ever hurt her if she stayed close to this man. Callum was like a defense tower with a warmly beating heart.

Then the world spun when he swung her up in his arms, carrying her in great strides toward their building. With some rational part of her brain, she acknowledged that this was a bad idea. Someone could see him carting her off like a prize, but instead of fighting, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

It’s so fucking hard to be happy.

What most people never realized was that she faked it about half the time. That sunshine was what people expected from her, and they didn’t want to peer past the shining surface to the murky depths. Better to give the audience what it wants, right? Nobody comes to see a crying clown.

She marveled at how easily he carried her, taking the stairs two at a time, not pausing until he stepped into her room and kicked the door shut behind him. Then he took her to the armchair and sat in a smooth movement. This was exactly the sort of thing she’d fantasized about, long before she spent any time with him. Now, she could hardly believe that she was sitting on his lap, his monk’s robe smooth against her thighs, making her all too aware of how big he was, the thickness of his legs supporting her. Now, Callum was comforting her, nothing more, but she couldn’t be this close to him, breathe in his scent, without wanting more.

A big hand smoothed her hair, weaving through the waves in a soft, tender gesture. “Talk to me, kit. It’s quiet and safe.”

In a small voice, she whispered the truth about her flashbacks. He hadn’t been there when the bombs went off, only seen the aftermath. Maybe he wouldn’t understand. Hell, most people would think she was wildly off target, expecting comfort from a man like Callum.

His silence meant he was listening intently. As she spoke, she wanted to touch his beard, to rub her cheek against his, and finally fucking find out how he tasted.

“Crowds and candles,” he said softly.

“And funeral incense. I thought I’d be all right this time. You abandoned everyone because of me. I’m sorry—”

He set a rough fingertip on her lips, and it took all her resolve not to kiss it. Or to suck it into her mouth to see if she could make his eyes look like they had in her dream, so intense they practically glowed as he pleasured her. In this light, they were intense, a complicated weave of brown and green, and he wore such a grave look, eyes locked on hers as if blinking might mean the end of them both.

“Don’t apologize. I did everything I needed to.”

She swallowed hard and nuzzled her cheek against his chest, utterly unable to resist that impulse. “Don’t feel sorry for me, please. Every time you show up for me unexpectedly, I want a little more. What am I supposed to do about that?”

Callum had no fucking idea, distracted by how divine she felt in his arms. Divine was a dangerous word since he’d vowed to spend his life serving Saint Casimir and the goddess. Yet the smell of raspberries wafted from Joss’s hair, maddening and wholesome at the same time.

He closed his eyes, more agonized than if the abbot was whipping him for his transgressions. The order didn’t much go for flagellation, but Callum suspected they might make an exception in his case.

Finally he said, “You think pity made me chase you out of the chapel? That I sent Garven back inside because I’ve such a tender heart?”

“No?”

She knew the answer already; she must. But the words tore out of him anyway, low and aching. “I wanted to kill him when you touched his arm. I wanted to kill everyone when I realized how scared you were.”

That smothering helplessness, when he saw her face, pale and wan, across the altar, moving away from him without a second look. He had no right to these feelings, but he fucking well wanted to catch Joss when she stumbled, for her to run to him when she most needed refuge. For the first time, he wished he hadn’t joined the order.

If I’d been there, if I’d been with my uncle at the conclave, not only might he still be alive, but I’d be free. Free to want her. Free to have her. She might not have these fears, either.

Yet regrets were futile. He hadn’t been there for Joss or his uncle, and Saint Casimir taught that it was vanity to believe in one’s own importance, as if he could’ve changed certain events just with his presence.

Please forgive me this vanity. Forgive me for this desire. He whispered the prayer in the silence of his head, but he didn’t move. She was calm now; he should move her off his lap, but letting go of her might end him. Each time he passed a test where she was concerned, the universe doubled down and offered even more temptation.

She studied his face for so long in silence that he started to get self-conscious, wondering just how he looked to her eyes. Then she reached out ever so slowly, giving him every chance to pull back. He held still, craving her slightest caress like a dying man wanted another breath.

Joss touched his nose, running a light fingertip down to the edge, then she skimmed her thumb along his cheekbones, hovering like she wanted to do more. Ever so slightly, he angled his cheek, inviting her. This was nothing sexual, he told himself. Never mind that she was perched atop his straining erection, and neither one of them were in any hurry to change that.

Smiling, she touched his beard delicately, fluttering down his jaw until she could explore the braid on the left side. Normally he didn’t fiddle with such formalities, but the dead deserved all the ceremony he could offer. Joss smoothed the plait and her finger brushed his mouth. His breath caught, and a tremor shook through him. It shouldn’t be this intense with such slight contact, but already his skull throbbed with imperfectly strangled impulses.

“You were born to bedevil me,” he whispered.

Her lashes fluttered, her cheeks flushing, not from his words, but from the physical reaction she couldn’t conceal. When she leaned forward, he thought she would kiss him, and damn his soul, he didn’t pull back.

But Joss surprised him again, rubbing her cheek against his like a cat, so his bearded jaw scraped over her soft skin. Their mouths were close, so very close, and he could taste each little puff of breath as she tried to get herself under control.

“I’m sorry.”

“This is none of your doing, kit. No one forced me to carry you off.”

“You make it sound so…” Her soft voice faltered as she shifted, jarring a groan from him.

His robes weren’t particularly thick, a much thinner barrier between them than usual. He had been able to bear her weight, but motion? That was too much. He had been hard since the moment he picked her up, as if that hold was a precursor to all the dirty things he’d dreamt.

His impulses were scrambled, fuck and protect, cherish and ravish. If he didn’t get his shit together, he’d soon be snapping his teeth mindlessly at anyone who got close to her.

“Make no mistake, it is so…” To finish the sentence, he moved her on his lap, and the hold became even less innocent.

Her cheeks burned bright as war banners, her breath coming quick and shallow. “I have never wanted anyone so much.”

Longing is pain, and—

The litany literally vanished from his head as she touched his hair, hands hesitant and fluttering. She was trying so hard to keep this innocent, but it was far too late. As she petted his head, he imagined her hands on his cock.

Somehow, with supernatural effort, she pulled back and tumbled off his lap. Joss landed on the floor, then she inched away from him like he was about to ravage her. Callum clenched his hands on the chair armrest to keep from going after her. There was a beast in the back of his head snarling that she belonged to him, that he had only to take her, and all the suffering would stop.

Head bowed, she didn’t look at him for a long moment. Then she raised her chin and mustered a smile. “I’m not freaking out anymore at least.”

That makes one of us.

Though he didn’t think this shit was funny in the least, he tried to match her tone. “That’s one thing I did right today.”

He didn’t mean to sound quite so grim, but his tone brought her back, knee-walking toward him to take his hand tentatively, as if he might slap her away. Hell, rebuffing her had become unimaginable. Callum craved every little touch she chose to bestow, even while knowing that such softness was chiseling away at his resolve to keep his vows.

The world’s going to hell anyway. I’m probably going to die soon enough. Does it matter if I fall, as long as I land in her arms?

She was talking and he’d missed part of it, too focused on her small hands holding one of his. “—don’t think you did anything wrong. You didn’t fail today.”

“I left my people grieving because I couldn’t stand the thought of Garven spending a minute alone with you,” he said flatly. “Hardly my finest hour.”

Callum wondered what she’d think of him if he admitted that most of his impetus to protect Burnt Amber came from duty, not devotion. Most people felt like shadows, not real somehow, echoes and air. He strived to say the right things; he emulated empathy, but always, always he struggled to connect and even those flashes came crosswise, frightening the object of his obsession.

The brothers didn’t expect emotional intimacy from him in the order. It was expected that every monk would find his own path to the goddess, if he followed the tenets of Saint Casimir. There, nobody noticed that he was strange or deficient. They only thought he was another curmudgeon who had chosen the stark and silent path to enlightenment.

Only with her did the pieces click into place and he understood how other people felt. Or imagined he did, anyway.

Joss edged a little closer, still holding his hand. “Maybe this is why I’m here,” she said.

“What?” Such a blank response, but he had no idea what she was talking about.

“To restore your faith in yourself. If you could see yourself as I do, you’d never have these terrible doubts.”

Seeing himself through her eyes—how fucking seductive. Conscious of primal instincts surging, he gazed down at her and that was it. No more fighting.

She’s fucking mine.

He tilted his head down and she rose to meet him, eyes closing before the kiss they’d both wanted for so damn long.

And someone pounded on the door, not a knock but a double-fisted thumping demand.

“What is it?” Callum snarled, ready to kill whoever was on the side.

Jere spoke through the heavy wood panels, sounding excited. “The order has come, sir. They’ve declared in defense of Burnt Amber, and for the first time in history, the brothers are going to war. For you.”

11.

Joss didn’t get that kiss.

Callum swore and said, “I’m sorry, kit. I must go. Wait five minutes, then go back to your room.”

He didn’t linger to see how she’d respond to the request to turn their friendship into something clandestine. Left on her own in his quarters, she tracked the time precisely and checked the hallway before slipping out. Nobody was around, likely driven by curiosity about the new arrivals from the Order of Saint Casimir. Joss was too, so she ignored his second instruction and headed for the courtyard.

Wonder how they got past the defensive grid and all the Golgoth.

She joined Trini and Emilia as if she’d always been there. Emilia glanced over with a welcoming smile. “This is unprecedented.”

Joss nodded as the brothers kept coming, a slow march of monks forming up around Callum like a wall of flesh she could never breach. And it was plain to see how glad he was to greet each of them, clasps of arm and shoulder, thumps on the back. All told, at least fifty monks had arrived to lend aid as needed, some with topknots, some who were bald, and some in robes, others in secular attire.

The leader of the group was venerable with lined, golden skin and a bare pate and the sight of him prompted Callum to dip into a deep obeisance. Though the older man didn’t smile, he pulled Callum upright with gentle hands. “I should not have sent you away in anger. That broke the tenets as much as I accused you of doing when you responded to those tragic events.”

He had to be talking about the bombing of Ash Valley and Beren’s death, among other things. The spectators were quiet, respectful of the exchange between the Burnt Amber leader and the head of the order. At least that was Joss’s best guess.

“You don’t know glad I am to have your blessing, abbot. What changed your mind?”

“I prayed a lot after you left and communed with Saint Casimir. He came to me in a dream and asked if I meant to let you fight alone. ‘There is a season for all things. In the spring, we till the earth and plant the seeds.’ Sometimes, farmers must lay down their sickles and take up the sword. If we refuse to fight evil, then in passivity, we become what we adjure others against.”

Callum sucked in a sharp breath, audible even where Joss stood. “Thank you. I am honored to have the order here. But—”

“I am not here to take command from you, my son. We will offer support, as the volunteers have many skills that may prove useful.”

“Then let’s get you settled in the residential building and we’ll confer afterward regarding placement.”

The abbot inclined his head and beckoned the rest of the monks forward. Callum led his brothers personally, leaving the interested onlookers to disperse. Trini and Emilia headed off with a wave and Joss slid through the crowd to take refuge in her room. She shouldn’t be disappointed over the arrival of the order; he needed their support. Yet she knew everything would change with such close oversight. Small intimacies they had gotten away with before wouldn’t be possible with the sharp-eyed abbot observing their interactions.

And that was better for Callum since he didn’t want to forsake his vows. Being attracted to her didn’t mean he wanted to upend his life. This is better for both of us. Somehow, she couldn’t convince herself of that, no matter how many times she crafted the thought, turning it into a ragged refrain.

The time got away from her, and soon it was time to get ready for the show. At least that preparation was familiar, akin to a soldier strapping on armor before a battle. For Joss, the slinky red dress offered the same sense of protection, as did the cosmetics. With each stroke of the brush, she felt stronger. By the time she finished her lipstick, some of the heartache eased, and she tilted her chin, admiring the finished look. This was what the audience came to see: sultry confidence as a backdrop for her strongest vocals.

“I came to sing for the soldiers. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Squaring her shoulders, she left the room and headed over to Nayan’s, using the back entrance to avoid curious eyes. Her arrival on stage would have more impact if patrons in the restaurant didn’t see her before the show. Cultivating an air of mystery was part of strong showmanship, something she’d learned while she was on tour. It also made for a lonely life.

Joss stayed in the small room adjacent to the stage until Nayan announced her set. The smattering of applause gave her strength, as always, and she strode onto the stage with the brightest of smiles. At the piano, her accompanist sat, a pretty young woman who usually provided instrumental dinner music for Nayan. At Joss’s nod, she played the opening notes and Joss came in on cue, crooning into the mic with all the passion she could muster.

Her gaze skimmed the room, as if she was making eye contact with everyone, singing directly to them. In truth, the stage lights made it difficult for her to tell who was out there listening. She cruised through the set as the lighting ebbed and flowed according to the intensity of the number. During one of those lulls, she caught a clear view of the restaurant. The tables were packed with soldiers, some staring at her with dreamy, desirous eyes, but for the second time, Callum wasn’t among them.

For the first show, he’d been out fighting the Golgoth. Today, he must be with his brothers. The monks wouldn’t approve of such entertainment, she suspected. Joss almost missed her cue dwelling on that dismal thought, but she came back strong and finished the set to thunderous applause, warm hoots and cheers.

She flowed into a graceful bow, smiling as she drank in the energy flowing back to her from the appreciation. “Thank you so much for coming. I’ll be here…well, until it’s safe for me to leave.” That got a laugh, as she hoped. She bowed again and blew a kiss, then she went over to thank the pianist. “You did great tonight. I appreciate it so much.”

“My pleasure. Your voice is truly amazing.”

Awkwardly, Joss couldn’t remember the woman’s name. Nayan had rushed the introductions, and it seemed rude to admit she hadn’t caught it when they’d done two shows together. Fortunately, Garven was there to save her ass.

“Britte!” he called. “I had no idea you could play that well.”

“Shut up.”

Her name is Britte. Got it.

The woman went on, “Ignore my cousin, please. That’s what the rest of the family does.”

“You two are related?” She glanced between them, but there wasn’t much of a resemblance, less than there was between Joss and Pru.

Garven was a large man with dark auburn hair and brown eyes while Britte was petite and delicate, fair hair and gray eyes. Idly she wondered what sort of bear Britte turned into; it was difficult to imagine her as a huge and snarling beast. But maybe she was the scariest bear of all, as physical size in humanoid form didn’t dictate shifted scale.

“I know,” Garven said in a mock-sympathetic tone. “I got all the good looks and poor Britte—”

“Finish that sentence. I dare you.”

“I’ll leave you two to settle this,” Joss cut in. “I need to clear the stage…” Before she could finish the sentence, others gathered their courage to approach and soon, she was surrounded by admirers.

This part, she could live without. These folks didn’t want Joss Bristow; they wanted the glamour and the illusion. Worse, she could scent those who were aroused by her stage persona, who wanted to fuck her as a form of conquest. Sometimes acute senses were annoying and uncomfortable. After a show, she just wanted to hide out and wash off her makeup, not deflect unwanted advances.

“We’re leaving now,” Garven said flatly.

Pushing past the small crowd, he ignored everyone else and since Britte hurried after him, Joss followed. She had no desire to linger, now that the show was over. Outside in the crisp night air, she took a deep breath, then she turned to make sure Garven understood her feelings. “I’m pretty tired—”

“Relax, I know that you have zero interest in me,” Garven said, surprising her. “You looked a little wild-eyed in there, that’s all. Have a good night, Joss.”

Callum had no fucking idea what he was doing outside Joss’s door this close to midnight.

Really, the time of day didn’t matter. He shouldn’t be here. He had no right and even less sense to take this risk with the abbot sleeping two floors above. Yet he still lifted his hand and knocked. At the very least, he owed her an apology for treating her like a dirty secret.

Blessed Saint Casimir, you asked her to hide. His skin crawled on that memory. Though he’d done regrettable things before, few left him feeling so dirty and shamed.

At first, he thought she wouldn’t answer—and his contrition aside, that might be best—but as he stepped away, the door opened a sliver, revealing part of her cautious face. When she recognized him, her eyes widened and she grabbed his arm, tugging him into her room with fearful insistence.

“You can’t be here!” she scolded, even as she shut the door behind him.

“Is that right? You never turned me away before.” He had no idea why he was saying such things, contrary to the reason he’d come.

He’d spent the last four hours talking strategy with the abbot, who knew more than Callum would have guessed about military strategy. With the old man on his side and his brothers ready to lay down their lives, he ought to be on his knees, repenting for what he’d almost done. A night spent in silent contemplation wouldn’t be enough to make up for his weakness, but it was somewhere to start.

Yet he was here like an addict, unable to stay away.

Joss sighed, folding her arms in a gesture that even Callum could identify as defensive. “It’s late. What do you need?”

“I came to apologize for how I treated you earlier. I deeply regret my inconsiderate behavior.” Even to his own ears, the words sounded practiced and plastic, didn’t come close to expressing the maelstrom of remorse and desire swirling inside him.

“I understood why you said that. It would give anyone the wrong impression if we came out of your room together.” Her cool tone hurt, as did the way she wouldn’t make eye contact, body half-turned away.

He should leave it here. Callum knew he should, but he stepped toward her anyway. “Would it be the wrong impression, though? We both know what almost happened earlier.”

“Almost,” she repeated softly. “There’s no sin in ‘almost’. Nothing happened.”

“Not from lack of longing.”

Joss inhaled sharply and she turned away so her tousled hair shielded her face. When her shoulders trembled, he closed the distance between them without thinking, shifting her so he could see the tears glistening on her cheeks. His heart contracted.

“Don’t cry because of me, kit. Please don’t.”

Carefully he drew her to him, and his whole body eased the moment she nestled against his chest. This feeling, it was nothing he’d ever known before. Not even the peace he experienced in the rituals of the order could compare. It was like all his cells had been burning for his entire life, and he didn’t know it hurt until the fire went out.

“We can’t do this,” she whispered. “Not now. Maybe, if you had chosen me before the order came to save Burnt Amber, but now…”

“I know. I can’t repay their loyalty with treachery and dishonor.”

Callum dusted away her tears, aware that his thumbs must feel like sandpaper on the silken curve of her cheek. Her mouth… Gods, she was made to torment him. In turn, she seemed to be devouring his face with her hungry gaze, as if she needed to memorize his features.

Though he was big and some people liked that, Callum had never believed that he was particularly attractive, and he didn’t care if he was either, but her avid, stormy eyes filled him with golden, glowing pride, like every part of him was exactly as it should be. To his surprise, she reached up with a small hand, and he ducked his head to let her do…whatever she wanted. He trusted that she wouldn’t cross the line, and this was the last time he’d come to her like this, the end of something that never truly started.

Joss plucked at the cord that kept his hair in the topknot he’d worn for the services earlier, and his hair tumbled free. She sifted her hand through it, rubbing the tangled locks between her fingers. That felt so good that he rumbled his appreciation deep in his throat.

“I’ve always wanted to,” she confided.

“To touch my hair?”

“If I’m honest, I wanted to fist both my hands in it and kiss the hell out of you, but this is what I’m allowed.”

Even this would be too much for the abbot, intimacy unsuited to his station. But the abbot was asleep, and Callum meant to bask in as much bliss as he could without breaking his vows because once he left the warmth of Joss’s room, only duty and violence awaited.

“You’re so fearless.”

“Because I speak my mind?”

“Because you come to me with complete honesty when the rest of the world can’t even look me in the eyes.”

“Your eyes are beautiful. Golden brown with bits of brown and green, a touch of copper when you stare into the sun. And your lashes are bleached, so you have to look close to notice how long they really are. They even curl up at the ends. Unexpected softness in such a strong face.”

Other than her hands in his hair, she wasn’t touching him, but he was so turned on, just from listening to her, that his whole body trembled. “I can’t believe you pay that much attention to my stupid face,” he muttered.

“I love your face.”

That was what she said. His heart heard something else, the meaning behind the words, and it tried to go to her, only to slam into the iron, unyielding wall of his vows. What had been his refuge for so many years would become a prison.

When he didn’t respond, she dropped her hand. Not surprising, a person could only give so much before the hurt stopped them from reaching out. His behavior wasn’t fair to her, and starting tomorrow, he would act right and stop letting his primal instincts screw everything up.

“Can we do something before you go?” she asked.

“Name it.” The answer leapt out of him before he could think better of it.

But he trusted Joss. If she’d set out to seduce him, he wouldn’t still be clinging to the edges of his calling. They would’ve gotten naked days ago, and hell, maybe he’d be happier for the fall.

“I’ve always wanted to see you in bear form. Could you…? I’ll turn around.”

That was it?

“If I get to see you as a lynx.”

Her teary eyes brightened into a smile. “Deal. Give me five minutes to appreciate your bear, then I’ll change too.”

As she faced the door, he stripped quickly, then folded his clothes. There was enough floor space in here to accommodate him, but it was about to get seriously crowded. Callum let go of the strands that kept him man-shaped and flowed into the form that felt more natural. As a bear, she smelled even better, layers of warmth and desire mingling with the clean scent of her skin. Even on four legs, his head came almost to her shoulder. He rumbled to let her know he was done, and her delight was the purest thing he’d ever seen.

“May I?” Joss asked, her hand outstretched.

In answer, he butted his head against her and closed his eyes when her palm scraped down his back, smoothing his fur. Like someone’s pet, he let her stroke him all over and even permitted her to examine his paws. Nobody had ever shown so much interest in any aspect of him, and the gentle intensity of it might kill him. It seemed like longer than five minutes had passed, not that he was complaining over the attention. When she rubbed the backs of his ears, he rumbled in pleasure and laid down.

Do whatever you want to me, kit. He barely controlled the urge to roll over and demand that she caress his belly.

“My turn,” she said eventually.

And started taking off her clothes.

12.

It was ridiculous and adorable for an enormous, majestic bear to lumber about in Joss’s front room, averting his eyes in case he got a glimpse of her skin.

She slipped out of her clothes quickly and added them to the pile on the chair, then she slid in her cat form, a sturdy bobcat with silver fur, tufted ears, and patches of amber amid the spots. She bumped his side with her head to let him know it was safe to turn around. Callum-bear still had the same eyes, though the lashes were gone. He regarded her steadily and she wondered what he thought of her lynx, but they couldn’t communicate in this form. That only worked within the same group, so bears could growl at each other and get their meaning across whereas her snarls and purrs would only register for him as sounds.

It was a bit sad that their final private moments would amount to little more than show and tell, but she didn’t regret asking to see his bear. He was every bit as fantastic as she had imagined. To her delight, Callum didn’t recoil when she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.

Does he know why cats do this?

In complete stillness, he permitted all her nuzzling. His fur was thicker and coarser than hers; she’d never been this close to a shifted Animari from outside Ash Valley. Bear form made him smell even more like himself—the scents that whispered around him burgeoned to delicious life, and she breathed him in deeply, trying to imprint this moment to battle the long lonely ones to come. Cool, crisp wind, like winter distilled through cedar trees and the dampness of frozen earth when it was lightly misted with crystal ice, just a hint of animal musk—that was how Callum smelled to her in bear form, and she’d rarely experienced anything so delicious.

Just when she thought he might become a statue, he reached out a massive paw and set it on her head with great care. Clearly, he was conscious of his own size and strength, and though she couldn’t laugh in this shape, amusement rippled through her.

Surely he’ll understand this.

At the weight of his cautious touch, she offered an encouraging purr. Even a bear should understand that cats purred when they felt pleased. He rumbled a growl in response, and whatever it meant, he petted her as she had done before shifting.

Eventually Callum sank back on his haunches, and there was room to cuddle against him if she dared. It felt like a silent invitation, so she settled against his broad chest and his arms came around her, welcome and wonderful even in these incompatible forms. Yet the strangeness was somehow perfect as well, for his bear encompassed her cat beautifully, giving her shelter with his big body. Purring nonstop, she nuzzled the top of her head against his jaw. Her ears swiveled at the rasp of his breathing. The strained tenor almost sounded like he was crying, though bears couldn’t, of course.

This is difficult for him too.

Conversely, it made it easier for Joss because she focused on his pain instead of her own. Grooming was something cats did for loved ones and close kin, and she could offer him that without it being sexual like it would be if she licked him in human form. The order couldn’t say anything about a cat grooming a sad bear, right? Since it was also a statement of possession, they might.

Even if they did, she didn’t care. Joss hoped the feelings of solace and belonging would get through, past minor Animari differences. Callum sat still and let her smooth his fur with her tongue, all over his head, and he rumbled when she went for his ears. Since he didn’t swat her, she figured it must be all right. Then for untold moments, they huddled together, close as they couldn’t be as their other selves. This was sweet and warm and…permissible.

But at long last, two enormous paws pushed her away and Callum angled his head at their clothes, his intention clear. It was time for them to change back and get dressed, put an end to the dreaming.

He averted his eyes, a clear invitation for her to go first; Joss complied, efficient as hell in breaking her own heart. Then she turned, so the bear could become a man. When they were both dressed, she faced him again, wondering why she felt as if everything had changed in those moments when, in fact, nothing had. Nothing could.

Joss stood between him and the door, and she controlled the urge to fling herself against it, blocking his exit. Instead she mustered all her composure and managed a smile, though it must be lopsided since she was fighting tears.

“I love you,” she said, then held up a hand when his eyes flinched. “I’m not expecting a declaration. I have more to say, that’s not all of it. Will you hear me out?”

“Have your say.” His voice was so deep and low that it scraped across her senses in the most luscious way.

“You know my cousin Pru?”

“Determined little thing, unexpected knack for managing people.”

Joss smiled, as that was certainly an apt description. “She was desperately in love with Slay—Ambrose Slater—the Ash Valley second for over ten years. Everyone expected them to end up together.”

A flash of surprise bracketed his response. “But she’s with Asher, right?”

“She is. Slay wouldn’t take her because his mother objected, rejecting her outright in front of her parents because she was Latent. He fucking shamed her for something she couldn’t help.” Here, her fierce anger at Slay crackled through. Hate that asshole. “After that, Pru dismantled her great love, brick by brick, until she was resolved enough to choose someone else.”

Another infinitesimal flinch. It seemed probable that Callum saw where she was going with this, but he didn’t interrupt. Probably got that patience from all the devotionals he’d learned in the order.

“Bristow women are strong, you see. It was over ten years for Pru, and she still got it done. Hasn’t been nearly that long for me. So…I won’t pine for you. I’m only telling you how I feel so I can get over you.”

“Wish you didn’t have to, kit.”

She smiled slightly. “But I do. Because you’d never be happy with me, if you betrayed your brothers, who stood by you in your most desperate hour. The man I fell in love with is tough and honorable and this is the path you must walk.”

Without me.

“This is closure,” he said, low.

“It is. I won’t seek you out after tonight. Good night, Callum.” Her eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t let them fall.

Not until he moved past her, checked the hallway, then slipped out of her room for the last time. Then she melted into a puddle on the floor, crying silently into her hands. She couldn’t decide if it made things better or worse that her skin still smelled of him. As soon as she calmed down, she had to visit the bath and scrub all signs of close contact away. Otherwise, someone would smell him on her, and the scandal they had avoided might destroy his life. Joss could never let that happen. She didn’t want to become a punishment to him, a consequence of imprudent behavior.

When she finally calmed, she gathered her supplies and rushed to the bathhouse like a spy, dodging all potential encounters. Only once she was submerged and had lathered her body three times did she relax.

There. We got away with it. He can resume his role with the order like nothing happened. And she’d meant what she said to Callum, but closing that door felt as if she’d slammed it on her own heart.

The throbbing would surely subside soon enough. If Pru could do it…

In time, there would be someone else to quicken her pulse, someone else who made her feel as she only did when she sang, alight with joy and music. Time would be the cure.

It was too damn bad she was stuck here, but hopefully the siege wouldn’t drag on too long. As she washed up a final time, Joss wished she could contact her family.

But wishing was an unreliable system, no more useful than speaking of her dreams to the distant stars.

Midnight. Callum should be asleep by now, as it had been a long day, but his brain teemed with anguish and unrest.

He didn’t want Joss to get over him.

That made him a monstrous bastard, and he knew it well. He acknowledged the thought and its inherent selfishness, then he let it go, tried to imagine that attachment like paper consumed by fire, until only curls of ash and wisps of smoke remained.

Easier said than done.

In the end, he didn’t sleep and he went to the chapel at dawn because the abbot would expect him to abide by certain customs, even if his devotions had been lax since he left.

Abbot Ambari was already there, along with a handful of the brothers. The rest arrived shortly after Callum, ready to partake in the rite of dawn. These were the rituals that gave him comfort, year after year.

“We take nothing for granted,” said the abbot, starting the service. “Each day is a gift and we greet it in Saint Casimir’s name.”

“In his name,” the brothers echoed.

Callum let out a slow breath. There was still peace in this, even if the feeling no longer filled him as it once had. He offered his candle to the monk on his right and lit it from the existing flame, then he did the same for the brother on his left. The monks were a mixed lot, so multiple scents surrounded him: bear, wolf, great cat, and even a whisper of bird of prey. Even now, he found that diversity comforting, as it meant Saint Casimir accepted anyone who came to him. All slates could be wiped clean; no one was too wretched to serve.

After the service, he greeted Andarion, his closest friend in the order with a brutal, back-slapping hug. People always joked about the two of them, saying that Callum had gotten all Andarion’s height and most of his hair since Andar preferred to shave it all off, and he wasn’t especially tall. He hailed from Hallowell of wolfen stock, and he’d been a postulant when Callum arrived at the monastery, half out of his mind and obviously heartbroken.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, smiling.

Andar returned the hug and then punched him. “I can’t believe you left without saying good-bye.”

As a courtesy, Callum grunted, though he barely felt the strike. “It seemed better that way. Did you talk the abbot into this?”

“Like I have the power to sway the old man on my own.”

That wasn’t a denial, however. “But you had something to say.”

“We all did. Choosing the silent path doesn’t mean much if the rest of the world falls to a tyrant.”

“Burnt Amber isn’t the whole world, but I’m grateful that you came.”

“If the Golgoth get a foothold here and use bear mines against everyone else, the tide will turn soon enough, and not in a way that’s good for religious freedom.”

He hadn’t even thought about that, but it seemed likely that the Gol despot would cram whatever god he followed down the survivors’ throats. Or hell, Tycho might even make people build temples dedicated to worshipping him. Based on what he’d seen and heard, it didn’t seem implausible. Bastards who wanted to rule the world rarely had an off button, a saturation level that made them say, this conquest, it’s enough, now I can stop pillaging and take up gardening.

“You make a good point,” Callum said.

Andar started walking, heading out of the chapel, and he followed. “I thought so. First, we need to thin their numbers, but skirmishes are troublesome with the grid active. I’m glad you told me about the secret tunnel before you left. We needed that inside knowledge, or we would’ve been flanked and slaughtered.”

Cold suffused him at the thought, and he couldn’t even remember why he’d been rambling about Burnt Amber. “I was drunk,” he admitted.

“Never could hold your mead worth a damn,” Andar teased.

“It’s not something I had much of before I joined the order.” Ale, certainly, and sometimes lager, but mead took a particular brewing process, one that the order had perfected, resulting in cyser mead as one of their chief exports.

“That’s an excuse, but I’m not here to agitate you over your low tolerance.”

“Abstemious,” said Callum in a mock-pious tone, but he couldn’t hold the matching self-righteous look.

They both laughed, though Callum could never forget just how screwed up this situation was.

Outside, the morning brightened from a misty dawn to a sunny day, belying the fact that they were trapped by the Gols and the grid with no help and no supplies coming and now he had fifty more mouths to feed. The brothers were used to scant, simple meals, so they wouldn’t complain if they had to go on rations later.

Just outside the chapel doors, the abbot cleared his throat, as brisk a rebuke as physically speaking words to state that they were acting with inappropriate levity. Callum sobered at once, turning to see what the old man wanted.

“I propose a strategy meeting. Gather your advisors while I alert the best military minds in the order.”

That rankled a little because he was in charge here, not the abbot, but he couldn’t bring himself to challenge the old man’s authority. Through clenched teeth, he said, “One hour from now in the conference room next to the security office.”

“Well enough. I’ll see you then.”

“Am I to be included in this great meeting of minds?” Andar asked.

“Of course. I value your input, even if you’re not a strategic genius.”

The bald man grinned. “Who says I’m not? I nudged the abbot until he started thinking this mission was his idea.”

“Then maybe you can talk the Gols into surrendering and going home.”

Andar’s gentle amusement faded into regret. “Would that I could, brother. But going home with their goal unmet means death for them.”

“True enough. Could we use that? I hear that the Gol prince offered a deal to his people. If they switched allegiances, they’d get perks and freedoms under his new regime.”

“I doubt the same trick would work twice.” Yet Andar looked thoughtful. “And even if the offer moved some of them, we don’t have the power to extend it.”

Callum swore. “And I can’t even call out to ask without letting the enemy do the same. I don’t want them getting in touch with anyone in Golgerra, not for strategic guidance or to request reinforcements. To make contact, they’ll have to ride out of range of our jammers and the delays work in our favor. The situation is bad enough as it is. If Tycho sends more troops or orders those here to charge the hold, regardless of the grid, we’ll soon be overwhelmed.”

“Why are they so determined to take Burnt Amber?” Andar asked.

Since he wasn’t from here, he wouldn’t know, but Callum saw no harm in telling him. “They think we manufacture our tech on site. The wolves have aerial support to defend their war machines, so we’re seen as the weaker link.”

“But there’s no industrial work here,” Andar said. “I’d smell it.”

“So will the Gols if they get close enough,” he replied grimly.

For the first time in Callum’s memory, Andar swore. “This whole battle’s a feint. To protect the actual facility.”

“If necessary, we’ll blow it.”

Just like Hallowell. That would destroy the bear economy and set them back years in terms of development, but he’d give the order if it came to that. With all his heart, Callum hoped to hell he never had to make that call.

“Let’s not worry about it right now.” Briefly Andar set a hand on his shoulder, meant as a comforting, bracing gesture. “Who should we gather for the abbot’s meeting?”

After a moment’s consideration, he answered, “Jere. Garven. Trini and Emilia.” Sighing, he added, “Probably Renna as well, as a courtesy.”

“Who’s Renna?”

Succinctly he explained the circumstances and Andar shook his head. “Awkward. She must feel very forlorn right now.”

“I suspect so,” Callum said, though in all honesty, he’d never given much thought to Renna’s emotional state.

Few people could wring any response from him other than irritation or indifference, like he was an instrument designed to play only in one key.

“Best if we make her feel needed. Work is the best cure for grief after all.”

Callum wasn’t sure if Renna was grieving, but he was, mourning the life he’d never share with Joss. “There’s plenty to go around, brother. Let’s get after it.”

13.

For the next few days, Joss didn’t see Callum at all.

During the day, she kept busy knitting, working on the sweater she had promised Renna, alternating between that project and a green one for Callum. Hopefully she’d finish both before the siege ended. Already there were whispers that the food was running low—or would be soon—and rumblings of discontent with Callum’s leadership, even more now that the order had arrived. The bears didn’t appreciate interference from the monks in day-to-day matters of clan management, and it looked like Callum might run into trouble, sooner or later. The gossip around Burnt Amber was that he needed to choose; either he was a monk and he should step out of clan affairs or he was the head of Burnt Amber, and he ought to stop taking orders from the abbot. Joss suspected the matter was more complex than that, and Callum must feel the tug of those conflicting loyalties.

Not my business.

Resolutely she went back to knitting and she didn’t yield to the urge to seek him out. At night, she donned the red dress she’d borrowed from Renna and headed over to Nayan’s club. Thankfully, they had stage makeup in stock, as Joss hadn’t brought any of her own products with her. She studied her own reflection as she painted on the confidence of her performance persona, eyes shadowed in gray, lined with exquisite flair, false lashes, a slash of crimson on her mouth. Then she pinned up her curly hair, showing the vulnerability of her throat.

She raised her chin at the woman in the mirror, then she stood and took her place on stage as the lights came up. With the spotlight focused, she could generally only make out shadowed faces, but as the pianist played the opening bars for the first song, she recognized Callum immediately, sitting at a table near the back with Garven and a slim, bald man she didn’t recognize. Judging from his attire, he was probably from the order.

Her heartbeat stuttered, and she tried to calm her nerves. It doesn’t mean anything. Someone else probably suggested they check out the show, and he didn’t have a rational reason to refuse. Briefly, she closed her eyes, gathered her composure, and when she sang, she forgot about the audience entirely. Joss ran through her set with all the joy and magic music always brought her. She poured her intensity into the upbeat, sparkling numbers that had her moving about the stage, and then she segued into the bright, bolstering songs that she’d selected because they might help morale, remind the soldiers what they were fighting for.

Tonight, however, she couldn’t resist closing on a fresh note. She signaled the pianist subtly, and Britte slid out of her way. Joss settled on the bench. “Tonight, I’ll do something a little different, a bit special, and share a song I’ve been working on. I’m dedicating this one to everyone whose heart is aching, everyone who’s ever wanted something they can’t have.”

“Eight o’clock, and I’m thinking about you,” she sang. “Everything I said that day was true. Late o’clock, and I should know better. Need you so, but we can’t be together. Wait o’clock, please don’t stop me, no, I can’t have you, and my heart’s been aching. Nothing shocks me, my heart is breaking. Can’t stop, can’t stop wanting you, needing you, loving you…”

Periodically, she made eye contact with Callum as she sang. His gaze locked onto hers, every time she crooned the words ‘can’t stop needing you, wanting you, loving you’. His look seared her, glowing with intensity, and she could imagine how his jaw must be clenched, the way his hands would be fisted beneath the table. Possibly it was a bit cruel to provoke him this way when she’d pledged to get over him, but hell, she was a cat, after all. Cats could be snuggly for sure, but they had claws for a reason. If Callum felt the scrape of her nails in this number, so be it.

Despite the lyrics, the song was jazzy and up-tempo with simple refrain, and she invited the audience to sing along when she reached the chorus. Soon, the whole room was alive with everyone chiming in as Joss played the notes staccato style. She finished the number with a flourish and then she got up. Though the crowd had been receptive since her initial show, this was the first time they gave her a standing ovation. She resisted pleas for an encore, bowed graciously, and then slipped backstage as the curtain came down.

Nayan had warm tea laced with honey waiting, perfect to soothe a tired throat. Joss settled in to sip it. Normally she lingered backstage for a while to discourage assholes who might still be pursuing the bet Garven had mentioned. By the time she had a drink and removed her makeup, most of the crowd would have dispersed. Tonight, she took even longer than usual, pausing to chat with Nayan and some of the staff, who invited her to a private supper, which Joss declined. The food aspect would be great, as she gave all her energy to the audience, leaving none for herself. Performing was a perfect high, but she crashed afterward and it would be better for her to get back to her room before that happened.

At last, she emptied her mug and finished cleaning her face, then she headed through the back entrance. After overhearing about that stupid bet, she’d learned her lesson about exiting along with the patrons. It would take a special sort of stalker to lurk around the employee entrance, and she doubted she had attracted that much attention, especially as there was a war going on, and at best, she qualified as a distraction from it. As she’d reckoned, nobody was waiting when she slipped out and hurried back to her building.

With the hold quiet for the night, she heard distant sounds of battle, mines going off and bear soldiers on recon, working to replace the ones that detonated. Other patrols skirmished with the Gols, who were struggling to reach Burnt Amber for reasons she only half-understood. Hell, none of this made sense. Things seemed fine up until the conclave, but clearly, they hadn’t been, or the world wouldn’t have caught fire so fast. There must have always been embers of resentment burning, down low where people didn’t see the danger until it was too late.

Sobering to realize that the bears were fighting at all hours, taking shifts, while noncombatants struggled to pretend that everything would be fine, despite all evidence to the contrary. There has to be something I can do, something more than singing. Joss had no desire to take to the frontlines, but as she went up the stairs, she wracked her brain for a solution. How did we communicate before?

And then it hit her. She’d heard the story of how Dr. Sheyla Halek managed to get in touch with Prince Alastor from the bunker. They used antiquated signal tech. Maybe we could do the same here. I could send word to Pru, using the code we played with when we were kids. Assuming she still remembers. That way, even if the enemy intercepted the message, they wouldn’t know what it meant. To anyone who didn’t have the key, it would be gibberish.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but the possibility of helping in some way brightened her spirits. If things had been as they were before, she’d have gone to Callum immediately with the suggestion. Instead, she ran back down and jogged to the security office with a burst of fresh energy. Doubtless she’d pay for this later, but Jere could at least tell her if the equipment was available, if they were on duty.

Sure enough, she found them cruising through drone-cam footage. The security chief looked exhausted, like they hadn’t slept in days. “Are you all right?” she asked, momentarily forgetting why she’d come.

Jere shook their head with a wry smile. “None of us are. But I presume you have a reason for being here, not just to inquire about my health?”

“I had a bit of a brainstorm, and I was wondering… does Burnt Amber still have any of the old signal machines? Like the one they used in the Battle of Hallowell.”

The security chief stilled, as if in confusion, then a smile brightened their weary expression. “Ah! I see. Indeed we do.”

Callum had the devil in him tonight.

Normally, he’d retire at this hour, but after Joss’s maddening serenade, there was no way the storm in his head would let him sleep. Every note of that song had rolled over him like a touch, an aural caress, and Joss’s voice still echoed in his head, saying she wanted and needed him, that she loved him. And hell, he’d already heard it from her, just before she swore to scratch his name out of her heart for good.

Really, he should try to sleep, but instead he went to the security office to find Jere. The last strategy session hadn’t gone well—with visible tension between the order and Burnt Amber—and maybe the security chief would have some idea how to bridge the gap. Failing that, he could exhaust himself analyzing Gol patrol movements at least, putting his insomnia to good use.

“Can you pull up the—” He broke the question off midway, when he realized Jere wasn’t alone.

Joss turned. She was still wearing the red dress that made her look like an angel of sin, hair pinned to reveal the tender nape of her neck, but her face was naked. After seeing her on stage, this glimpse of her true self hit him like catching her fresh from bed, all sleepy-soft and touchable. To control the impulse to reach for her, he curled his hand into a fist and pressed his knuckles to the back of his thigh.

When neither of the two spoke, Callum tried again. “Am I interrupting?”

Jere shook their head. “Joss had an idea, and I was checking on where our signal device is stored.”

“Signal…” Quickly, he sorted through what he knew about the Battle of Hallowell, and suddenly, he was on the same page. “It would be in the Archives since we don’t have a museum of obsolete technology.”

Joss bounced a bit, up on her toes. “Can you show me where?”

“Is there any point? It was a fluke that the old attendant was monitoring the equipment. At best we could send a message that nobody will read—”

“There’s no harm in it.” Joss leveled a cool gaze on him that stung as if she had chastised him. “If you’re too busy, I’m sure Jere can point me in the right direction.”

Before the security chief could reply, Callum snapped, “I’ll take you.”

He whirled on his heels and stalked off, not waiting to see if she would accompany him. Archives were part of the security complex, but down several levels. The lights were low in the stairwell with a sickly yellow sputter that made Joss look like a ghost drifting along behind him, not close enough for him to make conversation. Not that he had any damn notion what to say.

The steps were hewn out of solid rock, roughly done by hand hundreds of years before. He led the way to the main floor, where a solid steel door barred their path. His security clearance got them past the electronic lock, the only modern touch in this place. When the door popped open, he gestured for her to precede him. Within, walls of shelving created a nightmare maze of forgotten files and musty junk, items some enterprising bear had thought might come in handy again someday. Probably Jere could have looked up the storage code, which would help them locate the signal machine faster. That request would also cut short these stolen moments. Even if it was imprudent, he still chose to wander with Joss because at least he was breathing her in, next to her as he had no right to be.

“Any idea where to start?” she asked, eyes wide at the seeming magnitude of the task before them.

“It will probably be in the technology section. That way.” As Callum navigated the warren, a wave of nostalgia hit him. “I haven’t been down here in years.”

“You were raised at Burnt Amber?”

“We moved when I was fairly young, but yes.”

“Do you mind if I ask why?”

Callum wouldn’t have minded if she asked what color underwear he was wearing. “Why what?”

“Your family moved away.”

“Oh. Long story short, my mother didn’t get on with Uncle Beren. From the very beginning, he didn’t approve of my father and opposed their marriage. Eventually, my old man sort of…tried a coup. Failed spectacularly, too.”

For him, this was ancient history, but he could see the shock in Joss’s expression. His ties to the order aside, this was also why Burnt Amber wasn’t solidly behind his leadership, though he was next in line. Bears had long memories, and his father had been avaricious, power hungry. Not on the level of Tycho Vega, but he’d passed along a tendency toward obsession.

Thanks, you bastard.

If the old man was still alive, he would’ve grabbed this opportunity with both hands. Might even be glad about this terrible war if it meant personal advancement.

“You could tell me the long version. I don’t mind.”

Callum paused. “It was a long time ago, but it was tense when we lived here. Things were a bit better at first after we went to Bright’s Landing, but my father was a bitter man, and bitterness seldom leads to joy or contentment.”

“They’re gone?” Joss asked, her tone hesitant.

“My parents? Yes. Twenty years ago now.” He really didn’t want to talk about that, not even with her, because he’d lost everyone he loved then.

When you had a lover, someone you thought you’d be with forever, it was reasonable to turn to them for solace. Obsessive. You’re obsessive, Callum. The way you love is smothering me. I can’t be the only light in your life. The weight is too much. His fault, because he couldn’t bond properly with other people, couldn’t make emotional connections to make his need less ravenous. Time had smoothed away some of the jagged edges, but here he was, doing the same shit with Joss.

I haven’t learned a damn thing in all these years.

“Do you have any other family?”

“Cousins, on my mother’s side. They live in Bright’s Landing as well, and they’re not even slightly interested in what’s happening here. I mean, other than wanting life to go back to normal.”

“We all want that,” she said softly.

“Wrong. The Gols want to establish a new normal, where they dominate by force and the rest of us kneel.”

When her eyes closed as if she was fighting a terrible memory, he hated himself for that pointless correction. Obviously, she wasn’t talking about the Gols, just those fighting them, and hell, not even all the Gols wanted that. After the Battle of Hallowell, they were split into two factions. She knew that better than anyone and she’d lost so much in the first strike.

“That’s true,” she said in a small voice.

Callum shouldn’t look at her, but he did and the endless loss in her eyes ravaged him. “I’m sorry. I’m an asshole.”

“Sometimes.”

“You must be really scared, waiting for history to repeat. I wish you were in Ash Valley, away from the front.”

Joss squared her shoulders, her expression shuttering. “Away from you.”

“That’s not a thing I could ever wish for,” he said quietly. “Not for that reason. But I do want you to be safe, Joss.”

As he spoke, the lights flickered and went out. In the Archives, darkness had another layer, an oppressive weight and dimension. His eyes adapted swiftly, but even enhanced senses could discern little in a space full of inanimate objects that gave no heat. She stepped closer to him and Callum reached for her with unerring instinct, silently thrilling over the softness of her hand enfolded in his.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s temporary. They’ll get the lights back on soon.” Privately, he admitted that the outage might presage something more sinister, but even if he hadn’t disabled the wireless and activated jammers, there still wouldn’t have been any signal in a dungeon like this.

Joss shivered, a motion he felt more than saw. “We should see what’s happening. Come on.”

He didn’t move when she tugged on his arm, didn’t let go of her either. “Whatever’s afoot, they’ll have to resolve it without us. The door won’t open.”

14.

“We’re trapped,” Joss said, hoping she didn’t sound as alarmed as she felt.

“It won’t be long. If the power doesn’t come back, Jere knows we’re down here. They’ll send someone to take the door off the hinges.”

“If we combine our strength, we might be able to break it.” Between the impenetrable darkness and the knowledge that she couldn’t leave, her pulse quickened.

So far, she wasn’t panicking as she’d done in the chapel, but it might not be long. Joss imagined this was how her father had felt, trapped in the rubble with the whole weight of a building on him, hard to breathe, so hard to breathe—

“Hey, kit.” Suddenly Callum’s hands were on her shoulders, like he could read her mood even in the dark, then she realized he likely could, judging from the fear sweat dotting her brow, her thumping heart, and her agitated breaths.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, willing it to become true.

“You’re not. Come on, I’ll break the damn door down if it kills me.” The grim resolve in his voice told her that he meant it. He’d batter himself against the metal until it broke or he did.

Conversely, that steadied her nerves. She dug in her feet and refused to budge. “I’m okay for now. But maybe we can work our way toward the wall. I think I might feel steadier if I wasn’t surrounded by shelves that could topple over on us.”

“Even if we’re bombarded directly, the blast wouldn’t reach the Archives,” Callum said. “This place could be used as a bunker.”

“That’s probably not as reassuring as you intended, but gold star for effort.”

She noticed he didn’t let go of her, using one hand to guide them out of the warren, the other to bind them together. The feel of the air changed when they reached the edge of the room, cooler from the proximity to the naked stone. Joss reached out with her free hand and found Callum’s reassuring solidity beside her. To her surprise, he drew her close as he settled, and she nestled into his lap, as if she hadn’t just boldly declared that she would get over him.

This is a special circumstance.

Merely being close to him bolstered her courage, though it was pure indulgence to tuck her face against his neck, luxuriating in the softness of his beard. Gods but he smelled good, cedar and black currant, edged with a peppery bite and a whisper of verbena.

“You might be desperate to escape,” he whispered, “but this is a boon for me. I know I’m an asshole for feeling that way since we don’t know what’s happening, but for these moments, I’m allowed to be with you. It’s natural for me to comfort you. Not even the abbot could question me for showing compassion.”

“I doubt he’d expect you to cuddle me on your lap,” she pointed out.

Yet she still nestled closer, wishing she could wrap his warmth around her and etch this vivid memory into her mind, so decades hence, she could recreate the experience.

“I don’t give a damn,” he said flatly. “The bare floor’s too cold for you, and there’s nowhere else to sit.”

Joss could have pointed out that while he was a bit more inured to cold, she had fair tolerance, but in truth, she enjoyed his protective edge. Though she wasn’t a fragile flower, she savored his chivalry, especially when it came to cold stone floors.

“We can take turns,” she teased. “Do you think you’d fit nicely on my lap?”

“I’d squash you.”

“Maybe my strength would surprise you.” She wanted to reach for him in the dark and her fingers fluttered as she resisted the impulse.

“Doubt it, kit. You’ve already been through so much yet you’re still smiling. That’s a sort of strength that I can’t fathom.”

“That sounded like a compliment.”

“You’re a blasted miracle,” he muttered.

“Why do you sound so angry about that?”

“Because you’re not mine.”

“I could be.” Joss loathed the pleading tone as soon as the words escaped her.

From his long silence, it wasn’t great for him either. “We’ve covered this ground. There are too many promises weighing on me already. The order saved my life, and they’re here trying to save Burnt Amber too. If I turn on them, if I—”

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that.” It was bad enough that the idea circled her head endlessly.

So what if you let them down? Just choose me. Forsake the rest of the world and pick me. I’ll make it worth the hurt, somehow. Too bad Joss wasn’t so sure she could do that. What could she offer besides love and music? She held no special standing in Ash Valley, unless you counted her ties to Pru, currently the leopard king’s mate. But that didn’t mean the pride would pledge aid to Burnt Amber simply to support Joss.

Fear and misery pooled her in chest, and she closed her eyes, fighting tears. These secret, stolen moments with Callum were pleasure and pain commingled, joy over his touch entwined with the bittersweet knowledge that she could never be more than his secret longing, a weakness he must overcome.

“Ah, kit.” A lifetime of regret rasped in his deep voice, rumbling like a thunderstorm in his broad chest. “When you get shed of me, you’ll soon wonder why you were so drawn. One day soon, someone more suitable will catch your eye.”

“Of course,” she agreed, wanting to torment him. “I’ll snuggle with them and touch them like this…” She tangled a hand in his hair, tugging hard enough to hurt.

His breath hitched and suddenly, she could feel his heartbeat, banging like a drum, audible to her sharp senses. “It’s unwise to provoke me.”

Joss shrugged. “If your control cracks, I’m not the one who will be breaking sacred vows, am I?”

“Hellcat,” he breathed.

He grazed her lower lip, unerring in the dark, and she bit him. His whole body tensed. Maybe it was their isolation, but she really didn’t care anymore if she pushed him beyond bearing. The real world seemed utterly unrelated in these moments. Hell, Burnt Amber might be ablaze, awash in Gol invaders and the Order of Saint Casimir might have fallen while they hid and denied their desires. Deliberately, Joss licked his thumb, soothing the wound she’d inflicted.

The moan sounded torn from him with hooks and chains. “Don’t be cruel.”

And that broke the evil enchantment. She didn’t want to have him if that possession hurt him. Full of remorse, she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and rubbed soothing circles on his back, making their contact soft and comforting instead. Gradually his body eased and he rested his head against hers, as if they had completed a race in tandem that neither of them could win.

“I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be. I deserve a bit of bedevilment for what I put you through. I’m not denying there’s a powerful pull between us, but—”

“No need to finish that thought.”

“But Joss, I really don’t know how I’ll pull through if you withdraw as my friend. I know damn well how much nerve I’ve got, asking you to stay beside me when I can’t be with you all the way. But I do need you, kit. You’re the only one I can come to when the walls are closing in.”

Since that was exactly what Joss had hoped would happen when she suggested that he could use a friend, she could hardly object now. “As long as I’m stuck here, you can rely on me,” she said at last. “Just don’t complain if I’m prickly because staying on my side of the line, it’s not easy.”

“Hard as hell for me too,” he growled.

Since she could feel the proof of that, glowing like a white-hot ember against her ass, she smirked. “I’m well aware.”

“Don’t mock me, woman.”

A soft laugh slid out, against her volition. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“There’s a bit of the devil in you, but I like that part too, more than I should.”

“Since I’m wild for you, exactly as you are, it would be tragic if you didn’t feel the same.”

Callum put his mouth near Joss’s ear, so that she felt the warm rush of his breath as he spoke. “If I could do even half the things I dream about with you, kit, you wouldn’t sleep for a week.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.

Next thing Callum knew, he’d be telling her about the incredibly vivid sex dream. And he absolutely did not need to relive that with Joss on his lap, driving him to distraction. Yet he wouldn’t let go of her even to walk alongside the goddess.

“Now who’s being cruel?” she chided.

Before he could respond, the unmistakable sound of power tools reached him, muffled but perfectly identifiable. “Jere must have people working on the hinges,” he said.

Without being prompted, Joss slid off his lap and stood. He wouldn’t let go of her hand, though, not even when she tugged. Instead he wrapped his arms around her, holding her against him for a few more moments. They wouldn’t get the door open instantly, and when they left the Archives, he had to be resolute and inviolate, not a man who was free to flirt and canoodle in the dark. He stroked a hand down her back, marveling at the beautiful feel of her, strong and compact and—

The door banged as if tumbled off the hinges. Joss stepped away.

Callum let her go, but it was like watching as a surgeon lopped off a precious part of him, one he wasn’t sure he could live without. What’s more, he didn’t know if he wanted to.

The ache in his chest got worse as he led the way to the exit. Jere shone a light as they approached. “Are you both all right?”

“Well enough. Situation report?”

“We’ve got Gols outside the walls. They’ve blown the power cables and the rest of the hold is on backup generators, but this place isn’t connected to the failsafe.”

“It wouldn’t be,” he grunted.

“Did you find the signal device?”

“Not yet. When the lights went down, we stopped looking. I didn’t know how long we’d be stuck so it seemed unwise to waste the battery on my phone.”

“I’ve got solar lamps with me. If you wish, I can continue the search with the guards who helped with the door.”

Callum peered at the soldiers but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember their names. “Do you mind, Jere?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did.”

“Then bring it up when you find it and connect it as needed in the security room. I’ll have a look at the battlefield.”

The news was grim but not as bad as it could be. Only one unit had reached the hold; that meant they could get more mines behind them if they took out the invaders fast enough.

Looks like I’m fighting without sleep.

With a vague word of encouragement, he left the guards to work with Jere, though the signal device seemed more like a hopeless dream than a useful tactic. Joss hurried along after him, matching his longer strides by sprinting up the steps. When they got to the plaza, he could see that only part of the hold had power, the essential services connected to the generators. He didn’t have time to say farewell, so he just waved and turned to find Andar searching for him in the crowd.

“Time for battle, brother.”

Callum nodded. “Where are the rest?”

“Already in the staging area. On our way then?”

In the throng, he lost sight of Joss and that was for the best. He raced Andar to the changing area and found the rest of the brothers waiting for his command. Even the elderly abbot was here, ready to fight. His heart ached over their loyalty. These men were often cranky and misunderstood by the rest of the world, but they were here in his darkest hour, loyal to the bone.

Some of them would die tonight because the Gols took no quarter.

“I don’t have a damn thing to say, so let’s get out there and kill those assholes. We’ll be in bed by dawn.”

The order didn’t cheer, but a few did crack a smile here and there. One by one they slid into their animal forms: bears and wolves, a few stray cats, and even a giant hunting hawk from the Aerie. Callum headed the charge through the secret tunnel, which should deposit them behind the Gols currently prowling by the walls. They couldn’t be allowed to summon reinforcements or set up siege equipment. Hell, if they had access to comms, better minds would have already guided them into an attack that Callum wouldn’t be able to repel. Superiors with better intel might even inform them that the actual factory was situated close to Bright’s Landing, not Burnt Amber.

Don’t think about worst case scenarios. Just get your ass out there and fight.

Callum emerged from the secret egress first and he snarled a curse in bear when he realized the Gols were close enough to see. Fuck. No survivors, not even one. If a straggler made it back to the horde with information on bear weakness, all hope was lost because sooner or later, they’d get inside the walls. The mines could only last for so long since they couldn’t risk asking Bright’s Landing to send more. Either the message would be intercepted, revealing the actual location of the factory, or the Gols would jack the shipment itself. Neither would improve the situation, currently dark enough that he didn’t know if he’d see another dawn.

Once, that prospect wouldn’t have bothered him much. He would’ve reckoned himself ready to meet his maker without much fuss.

Not anymore.

Should’ve kissed her goodbye. Should have and damn the consequences. That way, I could die with one less regret.

It was impossible to reduce that emotion to a zero count, as he craved a future with Joss like nothing he’d ever desired before.

Get your head on right.

With supernatural effort, he shoved her from his mind and charged the closest Gol. Most of them were already set in their armored forms, a wild range of spikes and claws, ferocious teeth and leathery wings. Their hides took real chewing to inflict a serious wound, but Callum was strong enough to tackle the largest, forcing the Gol to the ground while Andar went for the throat. They fought together surprisingly well, though he couldn’t give orders to many of the brothers.

Gol blood scented the wind but Animari blood flowed too. The snarls and cries were deafening, and the world narrowed to the next enemy, then the next, as he battled his way toward the front of the squad.

His fur was almost as thick as Gol armor, so their claws didn’t bite deep, and he pushed them back with brute strength. Andar darted here and there in wolf form, finishing the big ones he stunned, too fast to get pinned, too small to fight on his own. Now and then it felt like someone was watching him from the trees, but that was probably just exhaustion.

How long since I slept?

Over time, the wounds added up, and as he tired, the healing slowed. More blood matted his fur, and he got slower to block. Deep bite on his back, nearly enough to tear out a chunk of his rib cage.

Not enough, it’s not enough, that bastard’s trying to run—

Callum sounded a challenge, but the Gol didn’t take the bait. He was desperate to retreat, return to the rest with what he’d witnessed. He was smart enough to know the value of the intelligence he carried.

Hell no.

Abandoning the melee, Callum chased the Gol runner too far, beyond sight or sound of his brothers, and he realized the mistake too late. Five more Gols appeared from the trees, ringing him in an ambush. The ugly bastard he’d chased snarled something in base Gol. Callum didn’t speak the language but he’d bet it was basically, Gotcha, you dumb bastard.

There was no point in responding but he did anyway. He reared up on two legs and puffed his chest, snarling a vicious threat that involved disemboweling them so he could burn their innards and feed the ashes to his ancestors.

I’m so fucked.

Even in top form, he couldn’t win against six Gols, and Saint Casimir knew he was a far sight from his best shape.

But before any of them could make a move, a shadow dropped from the trees and sharp claws flashed. Blood fountained from the torn throat and the attacker was already gone, vanished back up into the darkened boughs. His blood chilled.

Only a damn cat hunted like that, and there was only one who would follow him straight into the jaws of death without looking back.

15.

Joss hadn’t meant to go to war.

Like so many significant events in her life lately, it sort of just happened. When she heard that the Golgoth were at the walls, she couldn’t stand to go to her room quietly. In Ash Valley, everyone was required to participate in regular patrols and Joss had most often volunteered for stealth and recon missions because those offered the lowest chance of conflict. So she was skilled at sneaking, and she’d shadowed the defense force out of concern.

But when she saw Callum being drawn into a trap, she had to act.

And now she was up a tree, the smell of blood strangling her. It was all over her fur, drying on her muzzle. I’ve never killed anyone before. That thought alone was almost enough to make her sick, but she swallowed down the bile and stilled on the branch. Otherwise the Gols would find her. Somehow she had to work up her courage to strike again, but this time it wouldn’t be easy. They were expecting death from above now, and she would probably be smashed into paste.

Callum bellowed what sounded like a challenge and rushed at the closest enemy. His exhaustion showed as he struck his opponent; they grappled and neither could get the advantage at first, but the other four came at him from behind. They would pin him with brute force and pull him to pieces. Even an Animari couldn’t heal such catastrophic damage. Mustering her nerve, she pounced a second time.

Joss landed on a Gol’s back, the smallest one, and she sank her teeth into his skull. With all her strength, she bit down, straight into the bone, and she dug her claws into the Gold’s tough hide, scratching with all her power. It wasn’t enough, not nearly, but her teeth were sharp enough to do damage. If she couldn’t kill, she could scramble the enemy’s ability to think.

The Gol spun with Joss attached and stumbled backward, as if he planned to slam her into a tree. She detached and leapt, scratching and biting her way from Gol to Gol, distracting and enraging them long enough for Callum to recover. With an enraged snarl, he toppled one like a tree he was uprooting and dropped his entire weight on the Gol’s upper body, leveling him, then he used that leverage to crush the life out of him. Their throats were their softest point and Callum used that, until the Gol stopped moving entirely. A final gasp signaled his death throes, alerting the three that were chasing Joss around the trees.

The terrain offered her an advantage. Since she was smaller, she could duck and dart and climb. They couldn’t destroy her if they couldn’t catch her. Joss knew damn well she had to keep moving; one solid strike and any of these Gol could snap her spine. She was tired already, but at least her antics kept Callum alive, maybe long enough for help to arrive.

It shouldn’t be long, right?

She scrambled up a tree and jumped from branch to branch. The boughs shook with her movements, but it didn’t matter if they knew where she was. Another sneak attack was impossible, and if they were trying to kill the cat up a tree, that gave the bear time to recover. Callum took out another and when the group turned on him, Joss struck again, choosing the wounded one she’d maimed before. This time, when she sank her fangs into the same wounds, the skull popped under the pressure, and she spat out a hunk of bone. Shuddering, she chewed into his exposed brain. The injury might not kill him, but it couldn’t do him any good. His steps went wonky and he stumbled around, spinning in drunken circles.

Maybe I got the area that controls motor coordination?

As the Gol tumbled sideways, she jumped clear and went up a tree trunk. Callum snapped the dazed Gol’s neck with a powerful strike from enormous paws. I’ve got brains in my teeth. No amount of brushing will ever be enough. The last Gols standing seemed to realize that the tables had turned, and they edged away, but reinforcements arrived at last, and the rest of the order tore the last Gols to pieces.

From her vantage in the tree, Joss shivered and closed her eyes. The smell of blood nearly overwhelmed her.

She heard Callum growling at the other bears, she couldn’t understand the conversation. Really, she might stay up here forever because otherwise she’d have to look at the carnage up close. Her whole body quivered.

The rest of the order didn’t seem to be looking for her, so maybe they thought Callum had done all this by himself. If that was the case, she didn’t want to inspire awkward questions, so she remained still and quiet, hidden in the spring foliage above. The leaves were small and pale green, but dense enough to hide a cunning cat. Eventually, the group retreated, and patrols seemed to form up looking for any stragglers they might have missed.

Only when the bulk of the monks dispersed did she slip down and slink in the shadows, heading back toward the hold. She mixed with the last few who were entering the tunnels; she didn’t think the brothers could recognize everyone in their shifted forms, so they should think she was one of them as long as she didn’t change back while they were in the room. She eased back and waited in the shadows until she heard no signs of movement in the staging area, then she waited a bit longer.

Finally, she crept inside and found the room empty, apart from Callum, who had already shifted and dressed. “I’ll give you five minutes to gear up, then we talk,” he said in a flat voice.

With that, he stepped outside, ostensibly to grant her privacy, but also to keep anyone else out, she suspected. He sounded mad so she slid into woman form and put on her clothes quickly. Now her face was smeared with Gol blood, worse somehow than a cat’s muzzle, and she wiped it away as best she could, then she rinsed her mouth thoroughly, trying to clean it with her fingers. It was five minutes to the second when Callum came back and bolted the door behind him.

She expected a sound berating, but instead, he devoured her with his eyes from across the room, all the longing in the world in that look. “You saved my life.”

“Someone had to.”

“Joss…”

When he said her name like that, all gravel and yearning, she wanted to run to him. She even took a step before she controlled herself. “I thought you were going to yell at me.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.” The absolute torment in his tone shook her from stillness.

“What do you want to do?”

“To hold you. Touch you. Kiss you. Take you as my own and be damned to anyone who would keep me from you.”

There were reasons that they shouldn’t, but the fog was getting worse in her head. “This is…it’s battle fever. Adrenaline is making you say things you’ll regret.”

“I don’t care anymore. Today, you went to war for me, kit. You’re not a fighter. Your heart beats for music, but you battled to defend me.”

“If you cross this line—”

“There is no line. Not anymore. Not between you and me.”

A chill swept over her, and Joss had no idea if it was cold, reaction, or excitement. She was still trying to wrap her head around the new situation when he closed the distance between them in three great strides, yanking her against him so hard that it knocked the breath out of her, but she didn’t resist. The wildfire rushing through him sparked in her as well. His body was so big, every inch of him straining toward her, and Joss dug her hands into his back, urging him closer still.

He was hard against her belly, shamelessly so, and she reveled in his desire. Deep in his throat, he made a sound that thrilled her to her bones as he lifted her. Most men would bend for a kiss—not Callum McRae.

Instead he brought her to his mouth with effortless strength and ravished her lips as if only her taste could sustain him.

This was not how Callum had pictured their first kiss.

But he couldn’t resist any longer, and it didn’t matter that she tasted of Gol blood instead of her natural sweetness. Her reckless, unselfish protection had driven him beyond the ability to keep his vows. He didn’t even want to.

He hadn’t been a true monk since the first time he heard her sing.

Callum explored her lips with teeth and tongue. It had been so long that he’d almost forgotten how to do this, but she reminded him with brushes of mouth, teases of tongue. She cupped his cheek in one hand and stroked his bearded jaw as they kissed. He shifted to feel more of her softness, holding her pinned between the door and his cock. She whimpered and squirmed, right into his mouth, so he caught each tender breath when his movements created the right pressure.

Joss knotted a fist in his hair and tugged. With real regret he relented and broke the kiss, only to discover that she wanted him to change targets. Her head fell back, revealing the soft arch of her throat. With a little growl, he ran his lips over her neck, biting gently at her urging, and that drew a long, tremulous moan from her. Joss locked her legs around his waist then, undulating her hips until the sheer heat of her radiated through their clothes.

She’s so hot. For me.

And they’d barely kissed.

This wasn’t the place, on some level he knew that, but he couldn’t stop either. Not with her twined around him so beautifully, panting for his next touch. Callum went back to her lips, grazing them again, again, then he skimmed kisses down her throat, locking onto the side of her neck because it drove her crazy. Her movements grew frantic, and he loved how she humped against him as if she couldn’t help it.

“You’ll make me come,” she gasped.

Callum was all in favor, but just then, someone rattled the door handle. “Why is this locked?”

Andar. He’s looking for me.

He couldn’t even swear, as the other man would hear it. In silence he set Joss down, but he didn’t let go of her. In the time it would take Andar to find someone to open the door, they could sneak away. He listened as the footsteps moved off, then he tugged her with him. Quickly, he checked to make sure they were clear of onlookers, then he hurried out of the staging area, aware that anyone who glanced their way would instantly know what they had been doing.

His raging erection was a dead giveaway.

By sticking to a circuitous route, they avoided seeing anyone until they got to their building. Joss doubtless expected him to disavow what had happened as a moment of weakness. He had no intention of doing that, and there would never be a better time to make his intentions known. Callum followed her inside the rooms that felt more welcoming than his own and closed the door.

“I got carried away,” he said.

“You’re not the only one.” She wouldn’t look at him and she hadn’t said a word as they sneaked through the courtyard.

Callum understood how she must feel and he hated it. “Joss.”

“I know, I shouldn’t—”

“You should,” he cut in deliberately. “I’m not sorry about what happened just now. I’m only sorry that we were interrupted, and then I made you feel like a dirty secret on the way back.”

Then she did turn, surprise kindling her green eyes to a lambent glow. “Isn’t that exactly what I am?”

“For a monk,” he acknowledged. “But I’m your man. I just haven’t wanted to admit it because the situation was…complicated.”

“Isn’t it still?”

“Yes, but I’m not willing to sacrifice you to the situation. As soon as I get the chance, I’ll talk to the abbot.”

“What will you tell him?”

“That he was right. I can’t live with a leg in each camp, and that I’m choosing to lead Burnt Amber.”

She folded her hands as if the urge to reach for him was too powerful to resist otherwise. “Because of me?”

“I’d be lying if I said you didn’t factor into the decision. There’s no joy when I picture going back to the monastery when the war is over. Before, that life gave me peace. Now, it looks like drudgery.”

“What do you think the abbot will say? Will he take the order and withdraw?”

“I hope not. We need their support. But I can’t keep pretending that I haven’t changed. Feigning piety is worse than forsaking my vows.”

“That’s…a harsh way to put it,” she said.

“It’s the truth, kit. I’m not simply changing my life path. When I pledged to the order, it was for life. But don’t think I do this lightly. You should know damn well how much I’ve struggled.”

“You’re not doing this just because we kissed, right? I won’t tell anyone. Surely you can do penance or whatever—”

“I guess you didn’t hear me properly. That’s not the life I choose, kit. You were right when you said I had to come to you freely.”

With that, Callum swung her up in his arms and settled into the chair where they’d cuddled before. The feeling had more layers now, more hooks and ties to bind him closer, as if the quick, soft rush of her breathing also filled him with air. Joss snuggled into his lap without resistance, and she tucked her head against his shoulder in a gesture so natural that he had no idea how he’d lived without this before.

“Would it be better if you don’t tell him right away? Everything is a mess right now, and I—”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll be judicious in picking the moment, but I won’t have you feeling like you need to be ashamed either.”

“The brothers will think I’m a complete vixen,” she muttered.

“That’s true enough. Only a complete vixen would tag along to a battlefield. You nearly scared me to death, kit. I’ve made peace with the prospect of dying for Burnt Amber, but when I realized I might take you with me…” Callum shook his head and shuddered, rubbing his bearded jaw against the top of her head. This woman was so impulsive. “Promise me you won’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

“Take such a risk.”

“Sorry, I can’t promise. If you need me, I’ll be there. No matter what.”

When she put it that way, he couldn’t even chastise her. Not when she was the reason he’d evaded that Gol trap. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you, but I’m pretty sure we’d lose the war if you weren’t here.”

That was plain candor. Though he had been skeptical at Daruvar, her nightly performances had boosted the men’s morale considerably. It was like they were all fighting smarter and harder to protect the beautiful cat who had unexpectedly arrived amid a bunch of surly bears. And now, she’d taken to the field, quietly saving his ass when his own common sense failed. He still craved her like the most powerful drug, but the initial rush had faded, leaving exhaustion and tenderness in its wake.

Just then, Joss let out a ridiculous yawn, and she was so fucking adorable with her face scrunched up, mouth wide open. “I need to sleep. This will keep?”

“You read my mind.”

Callum rose in an easy motion and set her on her feet, but she surprised him by tugging him toward the bedroom. “It’s not forbidden anymore, right? I mean, technically it is because you haven’t talked to the abbot, but you’ve chosen me.”

“That I have.”

“What I want right now, more than anything, is to curl up in your arms and get some rest.”

Gods, how could she get sweeter? If she kept saying such things, he might die of it. Some cautious, fearful part of his mind whispered that it was always good in the beginning, but that soon enough, she’d run from his obsessive tendencies. With effort, he silenced the doom-calling prophet that lived in his head.

“Let’s wash up as best we can and do exactly that,” he said softly.

“You’re willing?” Her delight was heady, more powerful than mead or wine.

“Ah, kit. We’ve barely scratched the surface of what I’m willing to do for you.”

16.

Joss kept thinking she would wake from this dream.

She’d yawn and stretch and when she opened her eyes, Callum would be gone. All those lovely things he’d said would evaporate like mist on a sunny morning. Only he was still in her bed when she came out of the half-bath. He’d washed up first and he took up most of the space on the mattress, not that she was complaining. None of this seemed entirely real, too much like wish fulfillment.

It was past three in the morning, so they didn’t have too much time to sleep yet she intended to hoard these moments in case something went wrong and the order took him away from her. She ran to the bed, strangling a small, gleeful sound when he pulled back the covers. He wasn’t wearing much, just his underwear, and surprise trilled through her. On some level, she expected him to keep being distant and difficult. Joss stole little glances in a secret, visual feast, taking him in as much as she could before he flicked off the light.

“That’s enough,” he said in a teasing tone. “You’ll have more chances to see what’s beneath my clothes.”

“Are you sure?”

“About letting you see me naked? It’s not a conundrum. Come to bed, kit. My arms are empty, and I’ve been waiting for you to fill them for half a lifetime.”

Quickly Joss peeled her shirt off and slid into bed without requiring a second invitation. A pleasant shock went through her when he settled her against him. Gods, but he was big, and when he spooned up behind her, she sighed in pleasure. A reflexive shimmer of arousal coiled through her, but it was mostly an echo of unspent energy. He stroked a calloused hand down her arm.

“I know. But when we take the edge off, we’ll do it properly. Nothing hidden or hasty about it. Promise me something?”

“Anything,” popped out before she could think better of it.

“Don’t get over me. Don’t change your mind about this. Because I’m not sure I could survive the loss.”

Her entire body reacted to those words. “I only said that because I didn’t want to be pathetic, chasing someone who has no intention of being caught.”

“Scant good running did me. No matter where I went, there you were.”

“I’m your destiny,” she said sleepily.

“Gods but I hope so.” His arms tightened on her, and he brushed light kisses against her temples and the top of her head.

So delicious.

As if she had slept with Callum many times before, she drifted off in his arms. When Joss woke, it was late morning, judging by the angle of the sunlight on the floor. And he was still in her bed, sprawled on his back so that she’d crawled half on top of him at some point. Her leg was on top of his, as was half of her upper body. She didn’t move much, just raised her head to study his features in repose.

Normally, he was always moving, scowling, daring the universe to take him on. He looked younger when he was asleep, some of that pugnaciousness smoothed away. His hair was a tangled, delightful mess and she fought the urge to smooth it with her fingers. Since he wasn’t used to being touched, he would likely rouse right away; Joss wasn’t quite ready to let this moment end.

He had rugged features and thick brows, long lashes bleached gold at the tip. His beard, frankly, needed a good trimming but some part of her would grieve over that as well because the wildness suited him. It did overshadow the curve of his mouth and she remembered well the soft scrape of it as they kissed. A little shiver rolled through her at that delicious memory.

Callum opened his eyes, slices of sherry brown that stared back at her in silence. “Planning to smother me in my sleep?”

“Never. I was just sort of…drinking you in.”

He snorted. “As if I’m such a handsome beverage.”

“You are!”

“I know well enough what I am, kit, and that’s not among my qualities.”

“We agree to disagree then.”

“Enough now, stop staring. I need to use the facilities, and you’re making me feel self-conscious about getting up.”

Joss made a teasing show of looking away, but she immediately broke her promise and ogled him as he strolled to the bathroom. Gods, but his back was incredible. So broad that she could lean her entire body on it, and he would probably never notice the weight. Really, she shouldn’t keep admiring when he’d asked her not to, but damn. That ass, a bubble like no other. It took all her self-restraint to keep from running after him and biting it.

Ten minutes later, he came out with a wet beard, his hair damp as well, and he looked perfect in that dishevelment. Joss imagined sharing a bath in the private tub at the bathhouse, and she tried to rein in her riotous imagination. He doesn’t have time for that. One day, though. When the war is over. She didn’t let herself focus on the possibility that he’d crumbled to temptation under duress, and that when the stress finally stopped, he’d survey the wreckage of his old life and identify her as the bomb that did all the damage.

“I should go.”

She nodded, unable to look at him for the doubt trickling in. “See you later.”

He crossed to her in two long strides and tipped her chin up. “What’s wrong?”

“I guess…I’m not sure of us yet. When you leave—”

“I’m still yours. Just give me some time. I’ll talk to the abbot as soon as possible, but there’s a process, formal steps to be taken and I don’t want us to start out with the shadow of scandal. Will you wait for me?”

Hearing that eased her heart a bit. “Of course. Neither of you have the leisure to take care of…” What would this even be called?

“Laicization,” he supplied. “That’s the term for removing me as a monk.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Why would you?” Bending, he kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes to savor the pleasure. “I’m off then.”

Joss let him get as far as the door but before he could open it, she raced after him and hugged him hard from behind, resting her cheek against his broad back. “I can’t do this out there. Only in here. So let me take my fill before you go.”

“Such a fierce hunger,” he teased.

“You have no idea.”

Gently Callum pulled her hands free and turned to complete the embrace. A shuddering sigh slid out of her because she still couldn’t get used to him permitting this, easily, openly. Big hands stroked her back in soothing sweeps, and when Joss raised her face to say she was fine now, he kissed her. The same heat from the day before filled her, a luminous energy unspooling between them. He didn’t try to conceal his reaction anymore, let her feel the swelling of his cock as their tongues teased. The kiss bloomed into brightness that left her panting and shivering when he pulled back.

“I feel it too. And I’d much rather stay with you, but right now—”

“We can’t.”

Callum groaned as she stepped away, as if losing contact with her hurt him physically. “Gods, kit. I thought it was tough when I only dreamt of you in my bed.”

She started, heat rising in her cheeks. “Wait, you had a sex dream about me? I wonder if it was as hot as the one I had about you.”

In a wicked whisper, she started detailing exactly how the dream went, what they did together, and how good it felt. She knew it was a bit evil to get him worked up before he left, but it was having the same effect on her too, saying these dirty things in daylight when he was trying to go be upright and dutiful. What was more, monks were waiting for him to lead them. Somehow that only made this hotter.

There’s something deeply wrong with me.

Eyes narrowed, he took a step toward her as if he was about to lose control and carry her back to bed. “If you say even one more word, I may not be able to leave.”

Joss laughed. “Like that’s an incentive to make me behave.”

For a moment, Callum only registered intense lust, but as his brain engaged, he realized she wasn’t simply recounting a sexual fantasy, but his, down to every detail. “When was this?” he demanded.

She paused, probably to think, then she specified the same night. He closed his eyes briefly. He’d heard of mates who could communicate without words, but this was well before he’d made up his mind, more proof that he’d chosen the correct path. Joss was meant to be mine.

“I don’t know who started it,” he said then, “but we shared it.”

“What are you—oh. Oh.” An adorable flush swept her cheeks. “I see.”

“Enough of your deviltry.” This time, he didn’t let her stop him and rushed into the hallway without pausing to check for potential witnesses.

Renna was some distance down the hall but she headed into the stairwell without looking back. For some reason, that gave him a little prickle of unease. It wasn’t like he could imagine the woman eavesdropping, but come to think of it, he had been noticing her in the vicinity quite often lately. He hoped she didn’t expect him to finish what Beren had started.

Frowning, Callum closed the door behind him and headed for the stairs, only he went up to collect his bath supplies. While he didn’t plan on keeping his relationship with Joss a secret for much longer, he didn’t need a scandal before he consulted with the abbot. His luck didn’t hold; he ran into Andar on the way, and he could tell by the way his brow furrowed that he knew.

“No wonder I couldn’t find you last night. You were with your lover.” It was a neutral word that still somehow felt like an accusation.

Hell. Nothing but the truth would serve. “Things have changed. No surprise, the whole damn world is on fire.”

“So you thought you’d burn as well.”

“Andar.”

The smaller man folded his arms. “This pertains to your immortal soul. Do you recollect what the tenets say about the eternal torture that awaits brothers forsworn?”

“I do, and I don’t give a damn.”

“You left that world because it broke your heart. The order saved you.”

Those were Callum’s thoughts, spoken in Andar’s voice. Everything he said was true, but those truths had no traction anymore. Not since a wildcat proved that she cared more about his life than her own. He couldn’t stand against such devotion when every fiber of him yearned for her in return. To touch her, learn the lines of her body, and breathe in the scent of raspberries when he woke in the middle of the night.

Callum didn’t know if Andar could understand, but he tried. “Sometimes paths diverge, and you could never see it coming yet once you’ve chosen the road, you know it’s right. That’s where I am, brother. I won’t always be a member of the order, but I will always be your friend.”

“Lot of good that does me. Who will I play cards with now?”

“There’s always Jorval. He has no head for gambling. You’ll earn your weight in matchsticks.” They’d never gambled for coin, reasoning that made the small infraction more permissible. Truth was, the long winter made for some boring nights at the monastery. “Does that mean I have your support?”

“Always,” Andar said unexpectedly.

“You were testing me?”

“Of course. If you’d hesitated, I would’ve urged you to reconsider, but you even tried to explain. Normally you’d just scowl and tell me to sod off. This relationship is already changing you for the better.”

Since he was well known for his bad temper, Callum grimaced. “That’s enough.”

“Will you speak to the abbot soon? I won’t be party to—”

“What do you take me for?”

“A man who’s easily seduced, apparently.”

He glared for a second, couldn’t hold the expression and it melted into what he suspected must be a ridiculous grin. “If you think it was easy, you’ve no notion how hard she tried.”

“You’re saying she chased you.” Andar tried to look stern, but suddenly he was grinning too, as if Callum’s mood was infectious.

Funny as this might be, it wasn’t fair to Joss. “In all honesty, it’s complicated.”

“Such matters usually are.”

That was such an encouraging tone that he kept talking. “We resisted each other for so long, but when she said she’d get over me, I almost lost my mind. Letting someone else have her? No. The mere prospect makes me feel…violent.”

“You’ve already formed a mate bond,” Andar breathed, seeming to realize how deep Callum had fallen for the first time.

“It just…happened. She tried so hard to be my friend, but with a woman like her, it was impossible for me not to want more.”

“Greedy shit.”

“I always was,” he admitted without shame. “Watch that language, brother. The abbot will assign penance if he hears.”

“You should stop calling me that now.”

A twinge went through him. “Understood.”

“Have that bath, Cal. If I can tell that you’ve been rolling around with the beautiful songstress, others will know as well.”

“Everyone will find out soon enough but it will be better if I control the fallout.”

With a nod, he went inside to wash away a night with Joss. On some level, it stung that he had to do this, and it must feel worse for her. But technically, at least, he was still bound to the order. Those ties couldn’t be cut by him simply declaring he didn’t want to be celibate anymore.

The abbot would likely be furious, especially since he’d marched the order to war to support one of their own. Hell, some died the night before, and the old man was probably saying the rites over their bodies. Callum needed to pay his respects as soon as he finished, because those men died thinking of him as a brother. They’d never know that they perished saving an oath-breaker. While he had spoken truly to Andar, this was the only way forward for him now, breaking these promises still stung. At the time, he had meant to live and die for Saint Casimir.

I can’t do that anymore. I’m sorry.

He soaked and scrubbed, hoping the ablutions would scrape away some of the conflict. It didn’t help, but he came out clean at least. Callum dressed quickly afterward, paying as much attention as he ever did to his appearance: none at all. Jere met him on the walk in front of the security building, and he braced for bad news.

“Finally. I’ve looked for you everywhere. I don’t love this low-tech walking solution, so much easier when I could send messages.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Something strange is going on with the Gols. After the last battle, we’ve kept watch via drones to see what they would do next. I expected another run at the hold, but instead, it looks like they’re moving camp.”

Callum stopped walking. “Changing the assault vector or a tactical withdrawal?”

The Gols had paid dearly for every centimeter and in every battle, they’d lost troops while gaining nothing of note. Maybe the field commander was giving up on Burnt Amber. Could he really be that lucky?

Jere shook their head. “It’s too soon to call. They could be regrouping or waiting for supplies. They seem to be augmenting their food by hunting the local wildlife, which might indicate that they could be running low on rations.”

“Or that they’re bored and bloodthirsty when they’re not getting blown up by our mines.” Callum tried not to hate the Gols, but when they were camped outside, doing their level best to obliterate everything he loved, such tolerance often proved difficult.

Hatred left a man perched on a slippery slope, however, and sometimes there was no climbing out of that pit, once bitterness pushed you over the edge.

That fast, with a single stray thought, he was there again on that mountain. They had been hiking, and he never saw it coming. Why didn’t I know? Nothing, nothing he said could reach her.

I watched her step into space. Falling. She didn’t scream. Not once.

No, now is not the time.

Jere regarded him with a troubled expression, brow creased. “What are your orders? This might be the time to go on the offensive.”

17.

After Callum left, Joss took a bath and tried to contain her giddiness.

The war was still going on, and nothing was official yet. If only she could talk to someone about their situation, but that wasn’t a good idea. All her friendships here were brand new, and testing loyalty when Callum’s leadership was at risk seemed like a terrible gamble. But as she dressed in the bathhouse, she recalled that she hadn’t finished her mission of rescuing the signal machine from Archives.

Jere said they would find it, though.

It was worth a shot to check with security, and if they didn’t locate it, Joss could go looking again. She had plenty of time before her nightly performance, too much time, really, and if she let herself, she’d fall apart, thinking about what almost happened yesterday. He’s safe. I saved him.

That didn’t mean he always would be, though.

That’s enough. Focus on what you can achieve.

Sadly, those were narrow margins. Ignoring the fear tightening her stomach, she hurried to the security center, where she found an officer she’d never seen before. The woman glanced up with a troubled expression, brows creased. “Can I help you?”

“I was looking for Jere. Do you know where they are?”

“Meeting with Callum, last I heard. Is there something I can do?”

“Maybe. Did they happen to bring up an old machine from storage?” Joss glanced around the office, but she didn’t see anything that looked obsolete.

“Yes! It’s hooked up in the conference room. We didn’t have the wiring in place here. Do you know something…”

But she didn’t address the agent’s curiosity. She headed for the conference room, desperate to contact the outside world. Yeah, this was a long shot, but if someone in Ash Valley found this message—against the odds—and showed it to Pru, she’d respond in code. It took Joss a little while to figure out how to work the device, but eventually, she set it up to transmit to Ash Valley.

Then she had to write something concise. She settled on cousin in trouble, besieged at Burnt Amber, send help if possible. Though Joss didn’t know what was happening in Ash Valley, it seemed improbable that any other Bristow cousins would have gone missing, plus nobody else knew the code. Satisfied with that, she encoded the message: xlfhrm rm gilfyov, yvhrvtvw zg Yfimg Znyvi, hvmw svok ru klhhryov. Her biggest worry was that if some random pride member found that message, they’d take it for gibberish and throw it away. Still, it made her feel better to try. Painstakingly, she sent it character by character and received a tone that seemed to indicate successful transmission. If she got through, she could send more detailed messages to Pru, ask her to contact the wolves and the Eldritch.

Losing Burnt Amber would mean devastation for the bears, but it would also give the invading Gols a foothold, a staging ground for the next stage of conquest. When she thought about it, it was faintly ridiculous for a singer to be doing spy work, but that was what war did, forcing people into roles they wouldn’t have chosen. So no, Joss wasn’t a warrior by nature, but when it came down to saving people she cared about, hell yeah, she’d fight.

Before she left, she checked the roll of paper and set the machine to receive. It would likely take a while for that to reach Pru, assuming it ever did. By then, her stomach was growling so hard that it felt like there might be two badgers throwing down in there. Shifting, sneaking around, going to war, and then having her dreams come true all worked up an appetite. Joss went to the cafeteria and found Emilia nursing a pastry and a hot beverage. Her wife must be on duty, and Renna wasn’t around either, but the other woman offered a warm wave, as Joss filled her plate at the counter and carried it over to the table to join her.

Her nerves eased a little. Eating alone sucked, so it was good to find a friendly face. She wondered how Emilia would feel, if she knew what Joss had going with Callum. Would the rest of Burnt Amber be happy to see him cut ties with the order? While that much might be true, she couldn’t be sure how they’d respond to him wanting to pursue a relationship with a cat instead of a bear. While most holds were open to it, they might feel differently about their leader looking outside the clan. Such things always boiled down to personal power, issues of hierarchy and advancement.

Gods knew, Joss didn’t have a secret yen to run Burnt Amber. The fact that Callum was in charge troubled her, adding another layer of potential complication to a relationship that might already be doomed. Hell even knew if he could extricate himself from the order, and if he did, the clan might still pressure him to make a more suitable alliance.

“You look pensive,” Emilia said.

That was an offer to listen if Joss ever heard one, but she restrained the urge to confide. “There’s a lot happening right now.”

The other woman nodded. “I heard we might be taking the fight to the Gols.”

“Wow, really?” Joss paused mid-bite, suddenly terrified for Callum and unable to say a word in that regard.

“They’re keeping our orders quiet, but the word among officers is that we’ve got them on the run. That last battle was a rout, no survivors, and we have to hit them hard before they get reinforcements or supplies. The war could be won, right here at Burnt Amber.” Eagerness shone in Emilia’s eyes.

Yeah, Joss could tell she wanted that, glory for the bears. For her, it was more complex. Surcease from pain and violence? Yes, please. But she couldn’t stand to sacrifice anyone on the altar of battle. And loss was always a possibility, a dark specter lurking with their enemies amid the trees.

“When will you know for sure?” she asked, voicing none of these grim thoughts.

“Tomorrow morning, I suspect.”

From there, talk became general, and they chatted about lighter things. Either Emilia could tell she didn’t want to discuss the war, or she had nothing further to say on the subject. After lunch, Joss chose music as a distraction from the uncertainty. They were cleaning up inside Nayan’s club, and nobody stopped her when she slid in the back door and settled in at the piano. Running through her repertoire took a good long while, and in the afternoon, she worked on some new songs, muttering as she scribbled lyrics and tried a variety of melodies, discarding arrangements almost as fast as she created them.

Someone brought her out of the semi-fugue when they set a plate on the bench beside her. Startled, she glanced up to find Nayan waiting with one foot tapping. “Even geniuses need to eat,” she said brusquely. “What’s more, you should take a break or you’ll have no voice left for tonight.”

“And you don’t earn anything on me, if I can’t perform.” Joss offered a cheeky grin as she devoured the meal: some lovely grilled steak, roasted vegetables, along with fresh bread and cheese.

How much longer can we eat this well?

“Don’t be impudent. Next time, take yourself to the cafeteria and don’t worry the staff, who should be working, not watching over you.”

She could tell that the older woman was more bark than bite, however. Nobody cowered when she raised her voice; on the contrary, they ignored her carping and continued with their work. Joss did check the time, though, and it was later than she’d realized. Before heading to her quarters, she stopped by the conference room, just in case. Nothing yet. It was silly to be disappointed, but part of her couldn’t help it.

Stifling a sigh, she turned and left the security center. And nearly ran into the abbot, a stern-faced old man who had never spoken to Joss directly. Today, he stepped directly into her path. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

Has Callum spoken to him already? She tried to school her features into neutrality and worked to control her heart rate. Those physical tells would be a dead giveaway to another Animari. “Oh?”

“Indeed. I need to talk with you, my dear. Will you accompany me?”

Callum still didn’t know if he’d made the right decision.

But he remembered how he’d fallen for that feint and nearly gotten himself killed. If this tactical retreat was another lure, hoping to draw them out of the hold, it was better not to give chase. It was a gamble because if this wasn’t a trap and the Gols were getting gear or reinforcements, the situation inside Burnt Amber would soon become untenable. After discussing the issue at length with Jere, they’d both concluded that it was better to sit tight. They didn’t have the numbers to risk a full-on assault, and if they got flanked, it would be a bloodbath.

Gossip was racing through the ranks, and soon he’d be hearing from the soldiers, disappointed in his gormless leadership. There was a difference between fearless and feckless, however. What good was glory if he decimated the population? Callum didn’t give a damn about accolades; he just wanted to protect as many people as he could, for as long as possible. Long term, that was a shit strategy for winning a war, but he couldn’t bring himself to elect otherwise.

At any rate, the withdrawal of troops would give them some breathing room before the next onslaught. He could use the rest, and he was sure the soldiers could too, even if they railed against his caution. The notion of another round of visits to inform families of their lost loved ones cramped up his guts.

Damn, I should pay my respects to the brothers who fell yesterday.

First, he’d see them in the morgue, then he’d say the right words for them in the chapel, though he wasn’t sure if the goddess would listen to an oath-breaker. In these times, he was neither holy man nor free man, and it seemed as if his prayers might go unheeded. Still, he knew what he needed to do.

The morgue was deep below the medical center, a preternatural chill lingering in the silent halls. Though he knew it for nonsense and superstition, it wasn’t difficult to imagine unquiet spirits lingering here. Callum quickened his step and hurried into the room where the bodies awaited yet another funeral service. This time, the abbot would deliver the inspirational message.

He identified Brother Timmons first and in the slot next to him lay his closest friend, Brother Cadwell. The two had been inseparable, always sighted together at work or in prayer. The catastrophic damage that had slain them hadn’t healed, leaving terrible wounds imperfectly stitched with stark black thread. So strange to see those lines in their flesh, as Animari healing normally obviated such treatment.

This was a heavy burden, one he might never be able to put down. With a sigh, Callum closed the doors and left, just as the attendant returned. He ignored the curious glance aimed his way and cut a path to the chapel. Where he found the abbot leading Joss to what seemed like a private exchange.

Shit. What now?

He kicked his pace to a run and intercepted them before they headed into the building where the brothers were quartered. Confusion flashed on Joss’s face, then her look darkened to anxiety, the echo of it wafting from her in a sour wave. Sometimes, olfactory markers were no help at all in containing a volatile situation. This was his business to handle, and even if the abbot had suspicions, he shouldn’t confront her without asking Callum directly.

“Is there something I can help with?” he asked.

The abbot shot him a puzzled look. “Not unless you possess musical talents that you’ve kept hidden.”

This isn’t about us? Damn.

“Did you want me to sing?” Joss asked, smoothly covering his discomfiture.

“I heard that you performed a lovely tribute to the fallen soldiers, and I wanted to ask if you would be willing to honor our lost brothers in the same way. If you have time, we could consult regarding their favorite hymns.”

“It would be my pleasure. I do have a performance tonight, but I can chat now, if it won’t take too long.”

Callum loathed himself for the relief that coursed through him. Right then, he knew he couldn’t continue putting this off. If he let himself, he’d nudge it forward in favor of some more pressing issue, and he’d be damned if he left Joss feeling like a dirty secret longer than necessary. He made eye contact with her, then said to the abbot, “Once you finish talking to Joss, find me. I have an urgent matter to discuss.”

Her green eyes flickered, and she bit her lip. If the abbot could read the tension between them, he gave no sign, only offered a serene nod. “This won’t take long. I’ll be with you presently.”

Callum said, “I’ll be in the security office.”

It seemed like forever, though it probably wasn’t more than half an hour that he wasted, staring at Gol troop movements without noting anything of worth. Jere gave him a few strange looks, which Callum ignored. Finally, the abbot presented himself and Callum led the way to the conference room, where that ridiculous signal machine was all hooked up, as if that would do any good.

“I collect this is a matter of some urgency,” Abbott Ambari said.

The older man took a seat with great composure, and Callum did the same, though nerves urged him to pace. Yet it wouldn’t help his situation to reveal how agitated he was. Really, he should have scripted this confession, but now that the moment was upon him, his mind was blank.

“Forgive me,” he said, after a long silence.

“First, I must know what offense you’ve committed.”

“Over the past few weeks, it has become clear to me that I can no longer serve the brotherhood. You were right when you said that no man can row two boats, and this is where I’m needed most.”

He paused, took a breath, because that was the easy part of this encounter. The abbot would understand a call to duty. He might not be so tolerant regarding Callum’s other reasons for wanting to be removed from holy orders.

“There’s more,” the abbot prompted.

No point in dancing around the subject. Without fanfare, Callum dropped to his knees and bowed his head, the posture of the penitent. “I’m no longer chaste in heart and mind, and I can’t staunch my longing for Joss any longer. Nor do I wish to. Rather than serve with resentment and secret shame, I implore you to release me from my vows so I can seek happiness elsewhere.”

“That is no small request.”

“I’m aware.”

Unexpectedly, Abbott Ambari said, “I wondered how long it would take you to reach this conclusion.”

Startled, he raised his head to find the old man smiling. “What?”

“You didn’t come back the same. Not after Ash Valley. Not after you inherited leadership of Burnt Amber. And there were eddies of yearning and discontent that hadn’t been present before. I didn’t know that you had a lover per se, but I am skilled at reading the hearts of men. And yours has not been with us for some time.”

“I’m sorry. You led the brothers here because of—”

“Not because of you,” the old man cut in sharply. “Because this is the correct course. We will fight regardless.”

Those words lightened his heart, but he still didn’t get up. He’d stay down until the abbot made a judgment. “And my petition?”

Callum knew damn well that while there were formalities to observe, the decision rested squarely in Abbott Ambari’s hands.

“I must meditate on this matter. Such decisions must not be made quickly or lightly, and you do realize, that even if I approve your request, you will no longer be counted among the faithful? Are you willing to forswear your goddess as well?”

The question gouged in between his ribs with all the pain of a blunt knife, wielded with tremendous force. Yet he answered in a level tone. “I understand as much. But I also question whether a benevolent deity would mind such things. The rules of the order were written by men, after all. I’m willing to trust my belief in a loving goddess, one who embraces all who come to her.”

After a long, measuring silence, the abbot inclined his head, shrewd eyes twinkling with a light Callum couldn’t read. “I see. This interview is at an end. Do not speak of this to the others, go on your way, and await my decision.”

18.

For the next few days, Callum virtually vanished, and Joss wondered what was happening with him.

Things must not have gone well with the abbot, but she couldn’t bring herself to seek him out. He was at the memorial service, but his face was impassive when she sang for his fallen brothers. Every night, she looked for him in the audience at Nayan’s place, but he didn’t attend, and a vise slowly, silently tightened on her heart. As a distraction from her fear, she checked the conference room regularly, but so far, nothing had come in the signal machine. She’d just inspected the device thoroughly and was on her way to meet Emilia and Trini for lunch when she spotted Renna hurrying toward the far side of the hold.

Normally, she would call out and invite the other woman to join her, but something in Renna’s demeanor made Joss hesitate. Renna moved quickly, head down, shoulders hunched, and she glanced from side to side, constantly scanning as if she feared getting caught. People who acted like that usually had some reason for the secrecy, and with her usual impulsiveness, she slid into stalking mode, shadowing Renna with the reflexive skill that came from being a cat.

The other woman headed for the doors that led to the staging area. She’s sneaking out? But before Renna got there, Garven greeted her and she jerked her head up, forcing a smile. That flirty bear chatted her up for a good five minutes, and by the time the conversation ended, Renna seemed to have thought better of her errand. She changed directions and headed for the chapel instead.

Wonder what that was about.

Joss was late now, though, and she heard about it when she dashed into the caf and grabbed a plate. Meals were more sparing now, less meat, as the hunting parties weren’t going out, and even if they did, it was damn likely that the Golgoth invaders had already decimated the local wildlife. The land couldn’t support the hold, plus a conquering army for too long. Something had to give.

“Too busy glorying in your fanbase to show up on time?” Trini teased.

“Sorry, I’m easily distracted.” She didn’t say by what, mostly because she wasn’t sure what she had witnessed.

The direct method would be to ask Renna about it, but based on the other woman’s behavior, Joss didn’t feel confident that she’d get an honest answer. Pensive, she ate her food on automatic while Trini and Emilia discussed the deferral of battle.

“It was the safe choice,” Trini was saying.

Emilia sighed. “I agree with you, but I can’t help feeling we’ll regret this caution. When the Gols hit us with a bigger force and they’ve got supplies to last the whole damn summer, we’ll be sorry we didn’t take the fight to them.”

“Em. Callum values our lives. That’s why he didn’t throw everything into a full assault. It could be a trap, you know.”

“I know that, I do. But…I just want this to be over.”

“So do I, love.” Trini reached over and set her hand on the nape of Emilia’s neck, rubbing gently.

“We all do, but I don’t want to sing at any more memorials, either,” Joss said. “Callum is doing his best, and if you trust him—”

“That’s the thing,” Emilia cut in. “We barely know him. His family left Burnt Amber a long time ago, he lived in Bright’s Landing, and he didn’t visit Beren often after he joined the order. You’re asking us to put our faith in someone who’s an unproven quantity.”

She’d never thought of it in those terms before. While she tended to take Callum’s side, the soldier’s points made sense. “I get it. That explains the tension, especially with supplies running low.”

Trini closed her eyes, as if she didn’t need the reminder. “We’re not on porridge and water yet, but we’re not self-sustaining. Burnt Amber relies on trade.”

“It doesn’t help that Callum is always closeted with the abbot or the brothers. I don’t think he even cares about us,” Emilia muttered.

Here, Joss chose her words with care, aware that she had no overt authority to speak for him. Hell, their connection was still tenuous as hell, but she had to try. “He’s not used to being around people. Life is different in the order, and his people skills…” Well, they’re terrible. That didn’t seem like the right thing to say when she was trying to win hearts to his cause. “They’ve gotten rusty.”

“Yeah, his default mode is ‘scowl’ with occasional upgrades to ‘loud,’” Trini said with a rueful shake of her head.

“He cares, he just feels very lost right now, I think.”

Emilia swapped significant looks with Trini. “Seems like you’ve spent a fair amount of time analyzing our clan chief.”

Joss casually crammed a large bite into her mouth, hoping she didn’t look nervous. “I’m an observant person.”

Thankfully, Emilia let that go because she wanted to keep complaining. “Well, if that’s true, and he really does give a damn, why hasn’t he called a single forum since he took leadership?”

While she didn’t know that much about how the bears ran Burnt Amber, she guessed that was a hold meeting, where citizens could air their concerns and express their opinions, confident that leadership would take all views into account before making a major decision. “Maybe he didn’t know he was supposed to. Has anyone mentioned it to him?”

Trini shrugged. “I have no idea. Callum spends the most time with Jere, but I can’t say if they brought it up.”

“Things have been… hectic,” Emilia allowed.

She scraped her plate, ate the last of her food, then said, “You can’t have it both ways, saying that you barely know him and then complaining that he’s unfamiliar with your customs. If the former is true, someone should teach him how Beren did things.”

“Or someone else could lead,” Trini said.

“If you have a candidate, I suspect Callum would be willing to step down. He’s not power hungry.”

At that, Emilia shook her head. “Nobody else wants to. We’re in a hell of a mess, and I do have some nerve whining about how he’s doing when at least he had the courage to try.”

“Better communication will improve matters.” Hoping she hadn’t already said too much, Joss added, “Would you like me to mention the meeting the next time I talk to him?”

Not like I have any idea when that will be.

Trini grinned, her white teeth flashing. “That would be fantastic.”

What the hell, might as well go all-in. “Is there anything else he should know that people have been afraid to tell him?”

After appearing to consider, Emilia answered, “That’s enough, I think. Anything else can be covered in the official forum. Do you mind if I spread the word? Folks will be so excited to learn that Callum intends to continue with the old ways.”

“Maybe don’t add that last part yet. I can’t guarantee what will happen when I broach the topic.”

Trini laughed. “You mean he might throw shit at you and tell you to mind your own business?”

Joss hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but Callum had been panicked when he ran up to her and prevented her from saying something incriminating to the abbot. What was worse, she still didn’t know if he’d spoken to the old man about their relationship. She could use better communication from him as well, dammit.

“She looks mad enough to fight him if he tries,” Emilia said.

Okay, that’s getting too close.

“Lunch was fun, but I need to rehearse a little before tonight. I’ll see what I can do and get back to you, all right?”

“Then I won’t say anything until I hear from you,” Emilia decided.

Since Trini was still eating dessert—and who knew how much longer sweets would be on offer—she left the two women in the cafeteria and hurried out. Not so much to find Callum but to avoid them starting to speculate why she was so willing to serve as a liaison. Hell if I even know what I’d say.

Instead of going to Nayan’s club, she went to her room to hibernate a bit. Wasn’t that such a bear thing to do? Being in Burnt Amber had certainly changed her, though she wasn’t sure if it was for the better. The old Joss would have sought Callum out and demanded an explanation for his silence.

Current Joss didn’t dare.

Callum was weary down to his bones.

In between security checks and hold concerns, Abbott Ambari had him fasting and reciting penance to show he understood the severity of his request. Since he wanted his removal from the order to occur with as little rancor as possible, he acceded to the abbot’s requests. Consequently, Callum hadn’t eaten or slept in almost forty-eight hours, and he was starting to hallucinate.

Near midnight on the third day after he started what he was privately calling ‘the trial’, he found himself outside Joss’s door with no recollection of having walked this way instead of up the stairs to his own room. What the hell. Softly, he knocked, knowing this wasn’t wise. He’d avoided her to keep the abbot from denying his petition out of irritation at Callum’s impatience, but damn, he needed to see her, hear her voice. More than food or sleep, he needed Joss.

When she opened the door a few moments later, her eyes widened as she scanned him from head to toe. “You look like hell.”

“Feel like it too, kit. May I come in?”

“Only if you plan to explain why you vanished on me.”

Wordless, he nodded, and she stepped back so he could pass into her space. She closed the door behind him and folded her arms, not offering him a seat. It seemed like she was good and pissed over his silence. And she had a right to be. In her shoes, he would feel the same way, a sea of uncertainty churning inside him.

Succinctly, he explained as best he could and closed with, “In all likelihood, it was unwise to come to you before the abbot makes a decision, but I couldn’t stay away any longer.”

The firm line of her mouth softened into a smile, and her green eyes shone like gemstones even before she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around him. He groaned as he cuddled her close, the warmth of her body sinking into him like a sedative. Callum rested his cheek against the top of her head, closing his eyes to breathe her in.

“You must be starving,” she said.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re worth it.”

The truth was, it was tough for an Animari to fast, as their accelerated metabolisms chewed through energy quickly anyway, even more if they were shifting. At this point, he was running on determination. If the abbot didn’t relent soon, Callum would begin digesting his own muscle to survive.

“I have some snacks, fruit and crackers I brought from the caf. You sure that you don’t want anything?”

Briefly tempted, at length he shook his head. “Just you. Can I stay for a while?”

“Of course. I need to talk to you anyway.” She led him over the chair and he settled into it, feeling a thousand years old. The long day brightened a bit when she settled onto his lap and curved a hand around his neck, working the muscles until he moaned in appreciation. She was so tactile; possibly it came from being a cat, but she always wanted her hands on him, and he was starting to think he might die if she ever tired of him.

Eyes half-shut, Callum listened as Joss recounted a conversation she’d had with Trini and Emilia, and when she finished, he sighed. “Fuck,” was all he said initially.

“I was right, wasn’t I? You had no idea that Beren used to hold forums to listen to various viewpoints.” As she spoke, she kept playing him, fingers pressing on the nape of his neck, as if he was a piano, and she was unconsciously running scales.

On some level, it pleased him to be her favorite song. Goddess willing, she’d want to play him for the rest of his life. Pleasure washed over him, not arousal; he was too exhausted and hungry for that, but on a deeper level, warming him from the inside out, down deep in a place that had known only stillness and silence. For some, that equaled inner peace, but for Callum, it signified profound loneliness, a hole that had never been filled. Now, that deep and empty space echoed with the taps of her fingers, a melody bright enough to illuminate his solitary soul.

Gods, that feels good.

Blearily he realized she was waiting for a response. “No, I’d no notion. They don’t tell me anything, just scurry off when I’m wearing a dark look.”

“That’s your default,” she teased.

“And well I know it. You’re the only one who…” What could he even say? There was no adequate way to express how he felt, but he was parched earth to her spring rain, eagerly soaking her in, hoping that life could return.

“Isn’t afraid of your bluster?”

“Close enough,” he muttered. “I hope the next time I come to you, kit, it won’t need to be a secret. And I’ll have the right to stay…” Here, he paused, and nuzzled a kiss into the soft hollow of her throat. “And show you exactly what you mean to me.”

She let out a sound that went straight through him. His cock tried to stand, got halfway there, despite his exhaustion. “I’m looking forward to that,” she said.

Joss cupped his cheek in her hand, and Callum rubbed his face against her palm as if he was the cat. Then she set her mouth on his, the softest whisper of a kiss, nuzzling inward with tender brushes of lips, until his toes curled in his work boots. She kissed him with such care, like he was a fragile treasure. Nobody had ever made him feel this way, helpless and trembling, just letting her kiss him, as his breath came soft and fast. She tasted of apples, sweet and tart at the same time, and he moaned into her mouth as her tongue grazed his, all sly and seeking. He could have kissed her for a thousand years, but he didn’t take control, letting her set the pace and do all the exploring. When she pulled back, she kissed the tip of his nose, and his whole body went hot at the sweetness of the gesture.

“I’ve missed kissing,” he said huskily.

“I missed you. Couldn’t you have slipped a note under my door or something? I know we can’t send messages, but—”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I was inconsiderate. Truth is, I’m not used to being accountable to anyone besides the abbot. Please be patient with me while I remember how to do this.” He kissed her forehead, noting the corona of light swirling about her.

That can’t be good.

He shook his head, blinking hard, until the world came back into focus. Joss’s face was very close, so much that he could see the flecks in her eyes, gold and blue, with a darker green ring around the iris. Her lashes matched her hair, a deep red so dark that it lacked fire until the light hit it. She blinked slowly, smiling so slightly that only someone who studied her like a post-graduate course would have caught the shift in her expression.

“Are you back with me?”

“Maybe I’d better have something to eat after all. I don’t see how I’ll function tomorrow otherwise.”

She hopped off and his lap and returned with a whole apple and a packet of crackers. “Eat up, I’ll make you some tea.”

This was all so foreign to him and so domestic that his imagination flashed, envisioning them in one of the family units. Callum didn’t know if she could cook, but if not, he’d stand at the stove, gazing at her with dreamy appreciation while he put together their meal. Afterward, they’d talk about how the day went, maybe read together for a while, and then—

“Callum? Here you go.” She handed him a hot drink before he could conjure a fully lurid fantasy.

“Thanks, kit.”

Joss perched on the arm of his chair as he ate, slowly, to spool out these stolen moments as long as possible. When he sighed, she asked, “Is something bothering you? I mean more than usual.”

“You could say that. The officers are pushing to send a scout to track Gol movements and report on what they’re doing. But it’s a high-risk mission, and—”

“I’ll go,” she said at once. “I’ve done stealth recon before, and the worst cat scout is better than the best bear at going unseen.”

Fear clenched like a fist around his heart, and he started to refuse. Under no circumstances could he risk her. Not Joss.

The most damnable part in this hellish coil? She was right.

19.

The darkness swallowed Joss as she slipped out of the secret entrance in bobcat form.

Nothing stirred or disturbed the creatures she could hear chattering in the distant trees. Her own passage silenced them briefly but the wildlife could tell that she was hunting bigger prey. It had been a long time since she went on patrol, not since before the bombing, and even then, the stakes had never been so high, practice runs, not life or death.

She had no backup either. No access to a phone, no way to call for help.

Don’t think about it. Failure isn’t an option.

Worrying would only bring on a panic attack, and she couldn’t afford for that to happen. Fear might get her killed. Animari didn’t go down easily, but enough Gol attackers could pull her to pieces, and there was no healing damage like that. And I’m doing it again. Keeping to the trees, she banished the horrific images from her mind and followed the strong smell.

The entire Golgoth troop was on the move. Not a feint. They can’t have suddenly given up, so what’s the new mission?

On quiet paws, she padded after them, careful to stay in the shadows, as the enemy might have left sentries or traps to guard their retreat. Joss wished her geography was better, but she’d devoted most of her attention to music. Consequently, she barely knew what was inside Ash Valley borders and certainly couldn’t remember old lessons about Burnt Amber with so much stress tapping on the back of her head.

Callum had argued that he could send one of the cats from the order, but none of them had Joss’s experience with stealth missions. When he’d lost that argument, Callum offered to come with her, but that defeated the purpose of deploying the skill of a feline scout. Eventually, Joss won the battle and he agreed she was the best person for the job, but the situation terrified her.

Winter was finally over at least, and the branches were budded with new leaves. Not enough to hide her fully if she took cover there; that would take another month. The evergreens were still brown at the tips of the needles, and they prickled when she hid in those boughs, plus the sap clung to her paws. Joss surveyed the terrain constantly, checking for threats or camouflaged enemies, but she found only remnants of the Gol camp and rubbish they’d dropped on the move.

They left in a hurry.

She followed vehicle tracks for a while, as those who rode in them would move faster than the grunts who had been left to trample a wide path on foot, but they all seemed to be headed in the same direction. Based on their lead time, it seemed unlikely that Joss would be able to catch up before they reached their destination, assuming it was close. If they made camp, she had a shot at prowling the perimeter and catching a hint of their plan.

That would be dangerous as hell and Callum wouldn’t like her taking the risk, but if she could get some intel that would help the bears, she’d push past both fear and safety. In the wind, she only smelled normal nocturnal prowlers, animals out for their own interests, but no other Animari. Such isolation didn’t come naturally to Joss, and even when she had gone on recon training missions, she had always been assigned a partner. Tonight that lack made her nervous.

For hours, she ran, occasionally checking the route, but the Gols weren’t expecting pursuit and they weren’t careful. In the last hours of the night, she emerged from the forest to the scrublands, where the terrain was unnervingly open, devoid of features that she could use as concealment. Here, her nerve faltered, because she could hear noises in the distance that suggested they might be resting.

Joss breathed and waited until the tremors subsided, and then she set off again, knowing that the greatest danger lay ahead. Soon, the amorphous sounds clarified into voices. Two big Gols stood watch at the edge of the makeshift camp, just some vehicles parked with the soldiers who had been able to keep up spread out between them. The rest of the force must be taking a slightly different route, or had they split off? Possibly she’d lost them while tracking the vanguard, these troops who looked alert despite their extended bivouac.

She edged closer, not enough for them to detect her, but so she could catch what they were saying. “Three hours isn’t long enough, and in our squad, only that asshole Wendac gets to sleep. Why are the rest of us on duty?”

“You pissed off the boss with your constant complaining,” came the angry-sounding reply. “And look, you learned nothing, because you’re still doing it.”

“That doesn’t explain anything about Wendac,” the other one said sulkily.

“He apologized on your behalf and let the old man win at cards. You may think he’s a suck-up but he’s the one sleeping right now, huh?”

“Dammit.”

It was odd hearing the enemy grumble like this. After the bombs went off, Joss had forgotten how it felt not to hate the Golgoth, as if peacetime had become a distant dream, and there would only be blood and fear forever. But these soldiers seemed…normal. Likely, they feared what would happen if they crossed Tycho Vega. It didn’t sound like they were thirsting for bear resources or gleefully savoring the chance to destroy the Animari.

“Have you thought about what I said?” the second asked.

“About what?”

“Deserting. I heard five people slipped off two days ago, and they’re trying to rendezvous with Prince Alastor’s forces in Hallowell. Word is, if you can get there, he’ll take you in, no questions asked, and you get put to work rebuilding. No fighting, no threats, none of the old ways.”

“Shit. Really? What about caste penalties?”

“Are you even listening? None of that. The old days are done if Alastor wins.”

“But I heard he’s sickly. If it comes to a personal challenge for him to take the throne, there’s no way he beats Tycho. And if we end up on his bad side…” Though the guard trailed off, Joss could fill in the blanks.

“There’s an ancient custom that could allow him to choose a champion,” the second sentry said, but he didn’t sound confident that tradition would be honored.

It seemed like morale wasn’t great, and fear kept these men fighting, fear that they’d be executed for picking the wrong side. There must be some way for Callum to use this. But before she could slip away, the first spoke again.

“We should stop talking about this. If anyone took it seriously and repeated it to the old man—”

“Point taken.”

The first guard went back to his natural inclination, which was apparently to whine. “What do you think about our new orders?”

An audible sigh. “Doesn’t matter what I think. I just have to do what I’m told.”

“That doesn’t bother you? I thought I was supposed to be the asshole in our squad.” A pause, then the guard added, quietly, “I don’t want to kill civilians.”

The response came so low that Joss almost didn’t catch it. “Me either.”

“It’s different, you know? The bears at Burnt Amber are sending troops to meet us on the field. But marching on an unprotected town to draw them out? I don’t like it.”

Holy shit.

A chill crawled over her, and all the fur stood up on her spine. With effort, she restrained an instinctive snarl. They’re going after one of the settlements to provoke Callum. It will be an abattoir. It might even be worse than what Joss privately called Demolition Day, when Talfayen betrayed the Pax Protocols and murdered so many people she loved. There would be soldiers in the streets, cutting down innocent citizens, children crying—

No, I can’t let that happen. But…what can I do? I’m a singer, not a soldier. Not even a proper scout, really.

Despair flickered through her, as she considered her options. No way to contact Burnt Amber and running back to convey the news in person wouldn’t serve as a warning. It would only alert them to a recent tragedy by the time she arrived. But she didn’t know what town they were attacking either, so she couldn’t deliver a warning before the enemy arrived.

Think, there has to be a solution.

With muted terror coursing through her, Joss wracked her brain harder than she ever had before, and in a moment of epiphany, she realized what she must do.

According to any reasonable estimates, Joss should have been back by now.

In hindsight, Callum should have prevented her from going by any means necessary, but at the time, she’d seemed so confident, boldly declaring her superior skills. Though he had objected, he hadn’t forbidden, or ordered the guards to keep her from accessing the tunnel. Now she was overdue, and Nayan would soon ask why their songbird wasn’t present for her nightly performance.

Callum slammed his open palm onto the desk with his full strength, jarring the equipment. Every fiber of his being shouted at him to get out there and search—to empty the hold if necessary. But Joss wouldn’t want that. The whole reason she had gone was to seize an advantage via stealth, and if a search party put the exhausted soldiers at risk, he knew damn well what she’d say. Could even hear her whispering in his ear: You can’t do that. One person isn’t worth hundreds.

To him, though, she was fucking priceless. On his own, he’d let the world burn, as long as it meant that Joss came back safely. The hell of it was, as chief of Burnt Amber, he shouldn’t make that decision, and it was killing him by degrees, a pain that chewed to the center of him like the endless movement of a dull blade.

“Are you even listening?” Andar asked.

“What? No.” In all honesty, he’d forgotten that the other man was even in the room. Someone like him shouldn’t be in charge of so many lives. Though he couldn’t adequately explain, Joss tethered him to other people, made him feel less like an iceberg floating silently on a dark and dreadful sea.

“That much is obvious. Come on, tell me what’s on your mind.”

Jere might return at any moment, and Callum couldn’t stand to pore over the screens any longer. He’d been searching the footage brought by returning drones, hoping for a glimmer of what might have happened to her, but she had stayed off their radar, as quick and stealthy as she’d claimed. While that surety did give him some hope that she might simply be delayed by unforeseen events, it couldn’t quell the dread bubbling inside him.

“Let’s go,” he said abruptly.

If Andar wanted an answer, he’d follow. If not, Callum would drink alone.

Unsurprisingly, the smaller man hurried after him but he didn’t speak until they reached his private quarters. This room had never felt like home, less so now that he’d found solace with Joss. With all his heart, he wished he could stumble down those steps and that she would open the door with a quizzical look, ask him what took him so long. But he’d already done that. Opened the door and walked through her traces, breathed in her fading scent, and that was too much like mourning. Too much what happened before, the loss that drove him to the order.

With angry hands, he raked his hands through his hair until he probably looked like he’d fought a cyclone and lost. He didn’t give a damn. Andar shut the door quietly behind him as Callum poured two shots. This was pointless, as he’d need to drink ten bottles even to feel it, but Beren had enjoyed the burn, so there was plenty of good liquor in Burnt Amber, batches tailored to the old bear’s tastes. In fact, as he stared at the color of the liquid in the tumbler, it occurred to him that his ancestors might have named the hold after their favorite drink.

“Here.” He didn’t offer a toast, just knocked the alcohol back and savored the burn. Then he sank into a chair and tried to decide what to say.

As if Andar was reading his mind, he said, “The beginning is generally the best place to start.”

Since his friend was nearly up to date on current developments, he just summarized how he’d allowed Joss to go on a scouting mission. Alone. The words stuck in his throat, but he got them out somehow. He finished with, “She should be back by now.”

“That’s a coil. If word gets out, the rest of the clan will question your fitness to lead. They’ll say you trusted a random outsider more than—”

“I know,” he roared. “But do you think I give a good damn about that? The only thing stopping me from ordering every damn warrior in the hold out to search for her is that I know she wouldn’t want to endanger anyone else.”

Andar seemed shocked into silence. After a moment, he rallied enough to ask, “It’s like that?”

That had to be a rhetorical question. Ignoring it, Callum stared into his empty glass, feeling like it was a metaphor. Everything on the other side of the glass was distorted and out of shape, just a swirl of monstrous shadows. That was how life would be forever if he didn’t find Joss.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“As clan chief, you must consider the good of the hold. What action serves the most interests?”

Callum already knew without being told. It was better to keep their soldiers safe in case this was a feint and the Gols doubled back. Hell, they might even have taken Joss hostage, hoping to elicit a response. They couldn’t know she had been staying at Burnt Amber, but they’d recognize her as Animari.

“Fuck you,” he muttered.

“What a cruel thing to say to a monk.” Andar grinned, and that easy humor was exactly why they were friends.

But he couldn’t bring himself to smile. Not now. Maybe not ever again. Even if Joss made it back on her own, she might well hate him for his inaction.

“I don’t know what to say when Nayan comes looking for her.” The old woman might not start her inquiry with Callum but she’d arrive eventually because she had a verbal contract with Joss, and Nayan hated losing money, maybe more than she loathed the Gols.

Sometimes exhaustion nearly overwhelmed him when he tried to imagine what peace would look like. The older generation still hated the Golgoth and called them “demon-kin” and the war was reinforcing hatred that a hundred years of the Pax Protocols hadn’t been able to eradicate. People artlessly said that such intolerance would die when those elders did, but they also left a legacy with their words and they were teaching younger generations to carry on the same prejudices. That was why the Animari were still considered “beast-kin” by the Eldritch, and Callum was damned if he knew how to handle any of it.

I’m criminally unsuited to this role.

“That’s a good question. Could we stall for time? Claim she’s ill and hope that she comes back soon?”

It was obvious that Andar’s skills didn’t lie in scheming. Callum sighed and closed his eyes. I can’t just sit here. I can’t. That might be the prudent thing, best for the hold, and all that bullshit, but no. To his bones, complete inertia felt like abandonment, and while he was a lot of things, he wasn’t a coward and he wouldn’t leave her alone out there.

He stood. “I’m going after her.”

“Callum. You can’t. What will happen if—”

“I don’t care,” he cut in.

Andar stood and moved in front of the door, blocking it with his body. “I can’t let you do this, brother.” In his agitation, he used the old manner of address, the one they’d agreed didn’t apply anymore. “Let me fetch the abbot. He’s better at strategizing, and we can discuss the best resolution.”

“Ambari won’t give a damn about Joss. He might even be glad if she vanishes because then he doesn’t have to address my petition to leave the order. Get out of my way. Now. I don’t want to go through you, but…I will.”

20.

Joss followed the Golgoth vanguard all the way to Bright’s Landing.

It was a pretty, defenseless town, nestled in a picturesque valley. At night, the lights glimmered like fireflies. Windows glowing in wooden houses. As she drew closer, she could see that the houses were tall and narrow, painted in bright colors like yellow and blue, with streetlamps brightening the avenues as if it was daytime. Flower baskets hung from the posts and trees were planted throughout, so the place smelled fresh and clean.

This is where Callum lived. It’s beautiful.

The Gols had to wait for the rest of the troops to catch up and that left her a narrow window to dodge toward the town. Some citizens might choose to stay and fight, but they should make an informed decision, knowing what was coming, not be ambushed in their beds.

How am I supposed to do this?

She had no plan, but instinct had gotten her this far. Losing precious time, she cut a wide circle around the enemy and then once she reckoned herself clear, she abandoned stealth and went for speed, racing toward town. They had security patrolling the streets, thankfully, or Joss didn’t know what she’d have done. But they were sleepy and confused over finding a bobcat suddenly in front of them.

Still panting, she shifted out of cat form because she couldn’t communicate and one of the guards peeled off his jacket. Shrugging into it, she said, “Wake everyone. The Gols will be here soon. They moved on from Burnt Amber, seeking an easier target.”

The guards exchanged a look, then one said, “Is this meant to be a joke? It’s not funny at all.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing?”

“But why would the clan chief send a cat to warn us? That makes no sense.”

Joss restrained an impatient snarl. Every moment they wasted was one they couldn’t get back. “So help me, if you don’t listen, I’ll start screaming and I won’t stop until the entire town is awake.”

“Seems like she means it, Kenta. Maybe we should—”

Just then, the detonation of a firebomb signaled the start of the attack. Flames licked up in the distance and bewildered cries echoed in the night. Dammit. I lost too much time going around the army.

“Start the evacuation. I don’t know who’s in charge, but move,” Joss ordered.

To her astonishment, the one called Kenta raced off in response to her command while the other ran into the building behind them. Soon, a booming voice filled the night. “We are under attack. All defenders assemble at your assigned muster points. Those unable or unwilling to fight, meet on the east side of the square. Further information will be made available as—”

Another firebomb, this one so close that Joss could feel the heat. I can’t stay here. She didn’t know exactly where the square was, but she could find it by following the panicked bears, most of whom were cradling children too young to shift. When Joss arrived, there were about forty people milling around looking for leadership. They didn’t seem to be finding any, and the noise increased with every tick of time, the roar of embattled bears and the snarl of assaulting Gols creating a cacophony she could never forget. I can’t stay, but I can’t abandon them either.

“Listen!” Joss shouted, using all the volume at her command from long years of vocal training. To her astonishment, people quieted and heads swiveled in her direction. A naked singer in someone else’s coat will lead you, she thought with a touch of hysteria. “We must evacuate. Now. Your best hope is to get out before the Gols encircle the town. If they take you hostage, they will use you to compel Callum’s surrender. If you follow me, I’ll guide you to Burnt Amber or die trying.”

“Can we wait ten minutes?” a woman asked, the catch of tears in her voice. “My mate isn’t here yet.”

“She may have gone to fight,” someone else said, and there was a general rumble of agreement.

Joss hesitated. While she understood not wanting to leave loved ones, they should go right this moment. “Five,” she answered finally.

“Understood.”

Waiting delivered ten more refugees, bringing the group size to around fifty. How the hell can I get everyone to safety? There’s no food, no water. No supplies whatsoever. And they couldn’t move as fast as a bobcat. Since some were holding babies—an idea struck her.

“Those who can, shift. We’ll be moving fast. If you’re carrying an infant, see if you can rig a sling out of your clothing. We move in two minutes.”

With that, she dropped the coat and slid into cat form. It wasn’t ideal since she couldn’t communicate, but hopefully, they knew to stay close, run at their top speed, and not fall behind. Their lives depended on it.

They did manage to get the babies tied to each other’s backs and soon she had a small bear army behind her. Joss set the pace so the bears could keep up, but they lost more time moving in the opposite direction to make sure they didn’t cross paths with the main Gol force. When she couldn’t even smell the fires from Bright’s Landing anymore, Joss angled back toward Burnt Amber.

The entire time, she wrestled terror, trying not to show how scared and uncertain she was. This sort of thing should be reserved for heroes, not for singers who begged off patrol every chance they got. So many lives should never have fallen into her hands yet here she was. Every step across the scrublands she feared discovery, and the sun was rising now.

Behind her, the bears spoke in worried growls; that much she understood, though she didn’t grasp the actual words. She couldn’t even reassure them, and sometimes she left the group, ranging ahead to ensure that the path was clear. The third time she did, the babies were crying, audible over some distance. Babies cried, because they were aggravated or scared or hungry, and she couldn’t even let the parents pause to comfort them. Crying wouldn’t kill these little ones.

But it might get us caught.

No, don’t think like that.

Her whole body burned with exhaustion, and her head was starting to feel strange, sort of sparkly and distant. That’s probably not good. Spending long hours in cat form without eating or resting was a recipe for disaster, but Joss held on. As a scout, she was their best hope of getting to Burnt Amber safely.

Joss relaxed a little when they reached the forest. The trees offered some concealment and there ought to be enough distance behind them now that they didn’t need to worry about the Gols finding them. She eased her pace a little, moving with more confidence. I’ve gotten us this far. I can do this. I must.

Around the halfway mark, she let them rest, and the mothers shifted to nurse their young. Joss kept a sharp watch the entire time, circling the perimeter in bobcat form. If she changed now, she might not have the energy to go cat again.

“Thank you,” a woman said. “I’m Callie by the way.”

She was the same one who had been waiting for her mate. Joss didn’t know if the woman had ever shown up. It wasn’t the time to ask. She moved a paw and canted her head, hoping that her meaning was clear.

“Ah, right. She says we need to get moving.”

The babies were none too thrilled about going back into the slings, but this would be over soon. Callum had said there were empty rooms after the bombing at Ash Valley; these people would fill them.

With sheer determination, Joss pushed on, running through weariness and terror until she started recognizing landmarks. We’re close. It was damn near noon now, and the sun was so bright and cheerful that she couldn’t bear to imagine what it must be like in Bright’s Landing right now.

Then she froze, calling a halt by her lack of movement. Sounds up ahead, lots of movement, and they were big, coming fast. Oh no. I’ve led them into a trap. The Gols must have left—

But a few seconds later, bears broke through the undergrowth, and the one in front, she would recognize anywhere. Callum. The thought came with dizzying relief and without even meaning to, she fell out of cat form, landing on her knees as he reached them. The other bears shifted as well, revealing a cohort of monks with Andar among them.

“It’s been a hell of a night,” she said.

Callum’s glance swept over her to the ragged group of survivors, who were shifting back as well. “I can see that, kit. Seems you’ve a story to tell. But let’s get you home first, love, then I’ll hear everything.”

And then, without a moment’s hesitation, without seeming to care what any of the onlookers thought, he swept her up into his arms.

Thank the goddess.

With every step, Callum blessed the fact that Joss was filthy and tired, but in his arms. He had no idea how she’d come to rescue fifty bears, and he was grateful for her boldness and bravery, but mostly, he wanted to weep because she’d come back to him. Crying would probably be a step too far, considering that he still hadn’t been officially released from holy orders.

The Bright’s Landing bears had clearly been through hell this night, so he went straight to the main gates, avoiding the mines with a surety that came from long hours of studying the maps. At his bellow, the guards opened up and allowed the stream of refugees to pour into the courtyard. Thankfully, Andar led the brothers in offering food and reassurances, carrying water jugs around and finding clothes for those who had arrived with nothing more than what they carried. Joss must know exactly how they felt, for she’d done the same.

It hadn’t come to blows with Andar, though it had been close. In the end, the monk stood down and offered to rally a small group of monks to form a quiet search party. If nothing else, the ones who’d taken vows of silence wouldn’t gossip. And gods but he could have lit every candle in the chapel when he caught Joss’s scent in the wind, along with a bunch of unfamiliar bears.

Jere arrived just then and Callum grabbed them. “I’ve been putting it off because it was always in the back of my head that I might be leaving, but no longer. I’m offering this to you formally now. Will you be my second?”

Beren’s second had passed before him, and the old bear had been in no hurry to appoint someone else. Past Callum had hoped he would soon be returned to his old life at the monastery, but that wasn’t even what he wanted anymore. Joss made a surprised sound, and he shushed her by snuggling her against his chest.

“Truly? But I can’t continue as security chief if I step up as second,” Jere said.

“I’m aware. I’ve someone else in mind for that job too.” Two someones, actually. Trini and Emilia would work well together, and they balanced each other perfectly.

“I would be honored.” Jere inclined their head, the slight gesture not hiding their obvious pleasure in the promotion.

“Then your first task as second is to bring some order to this chaos. Show them to the bathhouse, assign them to empty rooms, and rustle up some supplies. Can you handle it?”

“Certainly.”

“Excellent. Because I need to talk with Joss. Once we’re finished with the debrief, I’ll check in.”

“Understood. I’ll take it from here.” If Jere had any private doubts about that ‘debrief’, they didn’t show.

Reassured, Callum left the courtyard in great strides, carrying Joss all the way to her room. She wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled closer, warming him from the inside out. He took her straight to the bedroom, but she pushed back then.

“I need to wash up. Let me do that, then we can…talk?” That was clearly a question, as she didn’t seem certain of his intentions.

“I’m not about to ravish you, kit. Not with the Bright’s Landing bears waiting and a whole host of matters to attend. I just…need to hold you for a little while. Damned if you didn’t take ten years off my life last night.”

“I’m sorry. I did the best I could, but I’m sure you were worried. In all honesty, I was too.” Her words were muffled but still audible coming from the half-bath.

When she came to his arms a few minutes later, he thought there was nothing more he could ask from life. Groaning, he settled her close, pulling her between his thighs, with his back resting against the headboard. She rubbed the top of her head against his bearded chin, against his chest, just all-over claiming like the cat she was, and he couldn’t get enough. Desire snarled like a leashed dragon, tugging on its chains. Soon, he promised that hunger. Just a little longer. Goddess but he might devour her when he finally let his lust go.

“Tell me everything.”

In the softest voice, she did. And when she finished her tale, he could scarcely credit her amazing valor.

Callum closed his eyes. “It would’ve been a massacre without you, kit. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll be lighting candles for the rest of my days. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for saving my people.”

“They’re mine too,” she said.

A fist tightened on his heart. It was so obvious that she meant it—that she drew no lines between Ash Valley and Burnt Amber. That was a loyalty that couldn’t be obtained through a peace treaty; it had to come from pure sincerity.

Callum leaned down and kissed her, first on the forehead, then her nose and cheeks, adoring her with every brush of his lips. When she turned her face up for a proper kiss like a flower to the sun, his entire body responded with a vicious ache that went soul deep. He hadn’t known it was possible to yearn for someone in body and spirit before. She opened for his tongue, kissing him back, tasting with such hunger that he shuddered, pulling back to muffle a moan in her hair.

“I want you,” he whispered. “The waiting may end me.”

“The abbot will make a decision soon, won’t he?”

“Goddess, I hope so. Because I’ve fasted and done the penance. I’ve done everything but write an apology in blood.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Sighing into his shoulder, she said, “I wish I could’ve done more in Bright’s Landing. I was afraid to wait any longer, the violence was escalating. The fire—”

“You did your best,” he cut in.

Callum could well imagine the infernal scene and it chilled his blood to picture her there in the thick of it. Soon, he must leave her and go be the clan chief. There were decisions to be made regarding Bright’s Landing, and he should comfort the survivors, but for now, he needed Joss.

Just five more minutes.

He counted those moments down, and in that time, she fell asleep in his arms. It nearly destroyed him to leave her, to gently ease her into bed and pull up the covers. “The next time I take you to bed, kit, I won’t leave for days,” he promised.

Then he hurried to his quarters to get dressed and face the damage below. He spent hours listening to sobbing accounts, though none offered more detail than he’d already gotten from Joss. She’d been tracking the Gols all night, after all.

It troubled him not to find his cousins among the survivors, though. Surely Phelan wouldn’t stay to fight with so many small children relying on him?

He also conferred with Trini and Emilia, confirming that they wanted to share the post of security chief, then he set them to work checking drone footage for travelers from Bright’s Landing. More might come, and they would need guides to get inside the hold without triggering the mines.

“We’ve got movement here,” Trini said, a few hours later. “Definitely bears. Should I send someone?”

Callum nodded. “I’ll lead the patrol myself. Can you predict their travel route based on the speed and direction they were traveling?”

“On it,” Trini said.

Soon they had an estimate, and for the second time that day, he went out, this time searching for fleeing bears, not a lost wildcat. There were only fifteen this time, a fearfully small number, considering that there were two thousand in Bright’s Landing. Or there had been.

What’s the situation? he asked, leading the group toward the hold. He wondered if there was any hope for Bright’s Landing if he sent warriors for a surprise assault.

The town is lost. Such despair in that growl, the like of which he’d never heard from a bear before.

Phelan?

Gone. His house burned in the first wave. Everyone is gone, Callum. The ones who fled early on…and us, we’re the only ones left. I’ve never seen anything like it, that destruction. I don’t understand. They didn’t take prisoners. They cut us down as we ran for our lives. And why? Silence fell after that impassioned cry. Not even the forest animals stirred, as if in respect for the bear’s overwhelming grief.

Sickness boiled inside him as he grasped the Gol intent. Scorched earth. Tycho Vega was setting an example, hoping fear would force his enemies to surrender: Kneel and pledge fealty, or be eradicated.

21.

Seventy-two souls.

That was how many survived the slaughter at Bright’s Landing. In the days following the attack, those she had led to safety called Joss a hero, but someone else might have found a way to save the town. Joss hadn’t done enough, not nearly, and she couldn’t stand the grateful looks. She dove into her music and tried to ignore the chaos swirling all over Burnt Amber.

That proved impossible, however.

Especially when the refugees sought her out at every turn, even slipping into her rehearsals at Nayan’s club to listen silently while she sang. She expected Nayan to object, as the older woman would view those free shows as a profit loss, but she was kind in her quiet way and instead served food and drinks to those who came, knowing that they had nothing.

On her way back to her quarters, Jere intercepted her. “This has to be for you. I hope it’s a message and not a machine malfunction.”

Her heart more hopeful than it had been in days, she took the paper with shaking hands. It’s our code. Quickly, she translated the apparent nonsense: Sorry it took so long, guard almost threw your message away. Bethel sends her love. What’s happening? Comms down.

Finally. We have a way to contact the outside world that the Gols can’t intercept. Sometimes low-tech offered the most inventive solutions, but Joss would be damn grateful when the wireless came back.

Jere waited with ill-concealed anticipation. “Well?”

“It’s from Pru. Is the device still hooked up?”

“Place of honor in the conference room. Would you consider teaching me the code? In case we get an urgent response. It would also allow us to make contact in case…” Jere trailed off, likely not wanting to articulate the reasons why Joss would be unavailable.

But in wartime, it would be negligent not to prepare for that eventuality. “It’s not a complex cipher. We used it when we were children. All the letters are reflected. Just use the opposite on the other side of the alphabet.”

“Of course! It’s so simple that the enemy might well overlook that solution.”

“Even if they do decipher it, I won’t give away our battle plans.”

“Understood.”

When they reached the conference room, Joss drafted a suitable reply, showing Jere how to encode it afterward. Bears embattled, situation dire, Bright’s Landing lost. Call Alastor. Call Thalia and Raff. SEND EVERYONE. Joss hesitated, then just in case this was the last message she ever sent, she added, Tell Mom I love her.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she keyed in the message, letter by letter. The Gol army might not be able to breach Burnt Amber’s walls, but they would go after unprotected towns until Callum faced them on the field. That, or they found the factory on their own. Deep in her bones, she understood that the bears couldn’t win without external support.

When she stood, Jere was facing away, giving her privacy for her grief. She really liked them a lot, and she made a fair amount of noise getting herself together, sending a wordless signal that she was okay.

Well, maybe that was the wrong word. Coping might be a better one.

“All set,” she said briskly.

“Thank you. I take it Bethel is your mother?”

Joss nodded. “We lost a lot of people in the Ash Valley bombing. She must be so worried about me.”

My little wildcat, her mom used to say, with a patient fondness, no matter what nonsense Joss got up to.

I hope I get to see her again.

The tears threatened again, and she ducked her head, hurrying out of the conference room as quick as she could. Memories threatened, old horrors married to new ones. Never would she forget what she’d seen the night she ran from Burnt Amber to Bright’s Landing and back again. The smell—

“Where are you heading in such a hurry, kit?” Callum caught her by the shoulders, as she almost slammed into him face-first.

Gently, he pulled her into his arms and shielded her with his body from curious onlookers. For a few moments, Joss simply cried, not caring who saw. He stroked her back, her hair, with the gentlest hands in the world. Just by looking at him, you’d never guess he could be so careful and tender, but that was just one of the many things she loved about him. Not least because this care was reserved for her alone. With nearly everyone else, he was all snarls and scowls, visible warnings not to get any closer.

“I’m just relieved,” she finally managed to say.

“Something good?”

“You could say that.” Quickly she told him about getting a reply from Pru at last. “I taught Jere the code, and we sent a reply, asking for reinforcements. If anyone can get us more forces, it’s Pru. She knows I wouldn’t ask if the situation wasn’t…” Joss paused, wondering if using that word was the best idea.

“Dire,” he finished. “You did well. Maybe your contacts can save us because I’m out of ideas.” He scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Drone footage shows the Gols are camped near the ruins of Bright’s Landing.”

“They’ll move soon,” she guessed.

“If their scouts are any good, they’ll find the factory soon. I have two choices here, neither of them good.”

Joss wasn’t a strategist by any means, but she suspected she knew what those were. “One—you turn on the wireless and tell the workers to set charges and evacuate. That means wrecking the economy. Two—you muster every available warrior and go to war.”

Callum nodded, but his eyes were shaded with weariness and grief. “One we can’t win. But I can’t square staying within these walls while my people die out there.”

“Your people,” she repeated.

“What of it?”

Gently Joss touched his cheek. “Before, you talked about them as if you stood apart, as if they had nothing to do with you.”

“Hell. You’re right, kit. I suppose I’ve accepted that I’m the shepherd of this flock, like it or not.”

“In that metaphor, you should have a dog to help you herd them,” she said, trying to smile. “Not a cat.”

“Without you, nobody would have gotten out of Bright’s Landing alive. I’ll keep my brave, beautiful wildcat, thanks.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Your cousin… I heard that—”

He set a fingertip against her lips. “Not your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should have foreseen that they wouldn’t be content to die to our mines forever. This just… it’s evil on a level that no decent person can fathom.”

“The orders, yes. But the soldiers carrying them out, they sound just like us. That’s the most horrifying part of this. It doesn’t require special villainy, just a fear of making waves. The Gol soldiers fear Tycho Vega too. I heard them talking…” She sighed. “They didn’t want to kill civilians, but they weren’t brave enough to refuse.”

“You’re saying it’s cowardice and self-preservation more than true evil. But I’d argue that the two are the same.”

“I don’t know if I’d be brave enough to say, ‘No, I’m not doing this’, if I’d grown up beneath Tycho’s boot. That doctrine of unquestioning obedience seems like it’s beaten into the Gols from birth.”

Callum eased her out to arm’s length, giving her the glower that he normally reserved for everyone else. “If you’re trying to make me sympathize with soldiers who just slaughtered my people—”

“I’m not,” she cut in. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Sorry.” He briefly cupped her cheek and then thumbed away the traces of her tears. “Continue.”

“The soldiers were talking about Alastor’s offer of clemency. Apparently some have deserted the loyalist army and are headed for Hallowell to join the resistance. Five this week, they said.”

“That’s not many.”

“Exactly. If they all chose not to fight, the war would be over. Instead, they’re choosing oppression. And even if it’s out of fear, they’re still responsible for those choices. I wasn’t implying it’s not their fault. They couldn’t help what they were taught in Golgerra, but they knew it was wrong when they razed Bright’s Landing, and they did it anyway.”

“What are you trying to say, kit?”

“We find a way to destroy them. No matter the cost.” Joss knew exactly what she was proposing when she made that declaration and by the grim awareness in his hazel eyes, Callum did too.

“I won’t waver, kit. We’ll see it done. Together.”

Anguish didn’t begin to cover the emotion that excoriated Callum moment by moment. Cousin Phelan, all his children. Burned alive. It was an excruciating way for an Animari to die, as their accelerated healing tried to compensate, prolonging the pain until death became inevitable. At least for the little ones, it must have been faster, not that it was something he should wish for. There was no hiding his pain from Joss and she hugged him, stretching up to wrap her arms around his neck and he wanted to lose himself in her. People were watching but he didn’t give a damn.

Someone cleared his throat. When he opened his eyes, he found the abbot waiting with a bemused expression. “A moment, if you please?”

This must be about the petition.

“Go ahead.”

“In light of recent events, I have no choice but to grant your request. You’re the only one left of Beren’s line. No matter my preferences regarding your spiritual development, I must do my duty to Burnt Amber and permit you to take a mate.”

What he felt for Joss had nothing to do with duty, and he wanted this before the tragedy. He didn’t want it like this, because it had become biologically imperative that he reproduce. Others who overheard the conversation were already whispering about it. Goddess only knew what they’d be saying by the end of the day.

“Then I’m released from holy orders?”

“You are. Though you are no longer counted among the faithful, walk toward the goddess as best you can and may her grace light your path along the way.”

“You’re free,” Joss whispered, hardly seeming able to credit what she’d heard.

“I’m yours,” he corrected.

There were a thousand things he should be doing instead, but Jere was assisting the refugees while Trini and Emilia had sharp eyes on the footage recently arrived from the field. It felt like he’d waited a lifetime for this moment, though in truth he’d lost track of how long it had been. Truth was, he had been aching since he first heard Joss sing.

“Do you have any pressing business?” he asked, low.

“Right now? No. I have a performance in four hours, but until then, I’m all yours.”

Oh yes, she knew exactly what she did to him with that tone and that look. She was all flirtation, but he had no more patience for teasing. Callum scooped her into his arms and Joss settled in, winding hers about his neck with a joy so palpable that he felt it as a shimmer of heat on his skin.

As he passed, he heard murmurs of, “He’s chosen Joss, not Renna? Poor girl.”

“It’s the smarter move,” someone else said. “Joss offers a potential alliance with Ash Valley while Renna is…pretty.”

Callum caught a glimpse of Renna’s stricken face, and damn, did he wish they weren’t saying shit like that. Renna would be hurt and Joss would hate for people to think he’d chosen her out of cold-blooded pragmatism, based on what she could bring with her.

But the fire in his blood, too long quashed, burned too brightly for him to deal with any of it just then. He’d die if he didn’t touch her, kiss her, join with her.

The look on his face must have been terrifying because people scrambled out of the way as he headed for their building. He ran up the stairs and went directly to her quarters. I’m free, there’s no reason to delay anymore.

Carefully, he set Joss down and took his hands off her. “Before I lose my mind, I need to make sure. Do you want this too? It will be tough to wait, but for you, I’ll—”

A kiss silenced him. Joss, frantic, feverish, practically climbing him. Easily, he hoisted her and she wrapped arms and legs around him as if she couldn’t get close enough. Soft little moans puffed out of her against his lips as they stumbled toward the bedroom, still kissing, her hands roving over him with luxurious abandon.

“Finally,” she gasped, as he tossed her onto the bed.

Eager and hurried, he stripped, his clothes tumbling to the floor as she twisted and tugged, wrenching at her own garments with desperate hands. She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, all silky skin and seductive curves. For a moment, he feared touching her because he’d never wanted anything to be good so much in his life, and it had been so long—

“Come to me,” she whispered.

A siren song that stroked his nerves. His cock was already hard, but that made it throb, visible to the naked eye. Sometimes he thought she could make him come with her gorgeous voice alone. Maybe one day they’d try it.

Carefully, he eased himself onto the bed. His instincts shouted at him to grab and squeeze and kiss and fuck, but with his size and strength, he might hurt her if he wasn’t careful. While the Animari healed quickly, he never wanted to put any marks on her, not even in passion.

“I’ll try to be gentle.”

“Who said I want that? I just want you, Callum. You won’t break me, even if we get a little wild.”

Those words unlocked the last of his restraint and he kissed her with ferocious hunger, pinning her with his body. The shock of her softness against his cock sent a pleasurable shudder through him, and she moved beneath him, arching her body to get more friction. His cock slid against her pussy, and goddess, she was already slick though he’d scarcely touched her.

He tried to slow down; he did. Dusting kisses over her throat, nibbling at her breasts, but soon he was biting her, and she loved it, moaning his name in a throaty purr that drove him wild. I have to taste you.

He said it or thought it, but she immediately parted her thighs and shoved his head with both hands, eager to let him have his way. Callum buried his face in her soft, salty folds and licked. Just like my dream, it’s exactly the same.

“Yes, oh yes. More,” she begged.

Only she didn’t have to beg. He wouldn’t move until she came all over his face. It had been a long time but he remembered what to do, how to lick and sip and when to slip a finger inside to stroke her deeply. A singer even in pleasure, Joss hit some high notes, her body arching as she orgasmed. Her thighs tightened on his head as she moved her hips. Callum drank her pleasure, breath coming in heaving gulps. He stayed where he was, licking and nuzzling her to two more climaxes.

Finally she pulled at his shoulders. “I can’t…give me…”

Softly, he chuckled, not even minding the insistent thrum of his cock. He had mild pain from the need to come, but he settled in beside her, cuddling her against his chest with the smell of her sex strong on him. After this, there would be no more secrets. While he’d bathe, he wouldn’t try to scrub away all traces of Joss. He wanted everyone to know they belonged to one another, for as long as they had left.

“You wrecked me. We were supposed to be together the first time.” She poked him in the chest with a hint of accusation.

“We are together, love.”

“You know what I mean. Don’t you want me? I mean, how—”

“I want you, but I wanted to give you pleasure more. You’ll recall that until very recently I dedicated my life to service.”

“Are you saying I’m your new religion?” Joss teased.

“My faith, my hope, and the only goddess I’ll ever worship. Every night if you let me.”

The sexiest sound slid out of her, part sigh, part moan, all music. “I can’t believe this is real. I’m afraid I’ll wake up alone and I won’t be able to stand it.”

“Never again,” he promised. “In fact, I’ll move my things tonight. With your permission,” he added, aware that it might be too fast.

22.

Is that even seriously a question?

“Go now,” Joss joked. “Get your stuff. Don’t even put on pants.”

When it seemed like he might obey her, even with such a raging erection, she stifled a laugh, then she put a hand on his arm. “Kidding! Just let me rest a minute. We have unfinished business.”

Her whole body felt like it was glowing. This endorphin rush filled her with blissful tingles, and she stretched languorously, kissing a lazy path along his shoulder. In response, Callum twined his fingers in her hair and tugged, not roughly, but not gentle either.

“Don’t test me, kit. You know damn well how long it’s been.”

“I don’t, actually. Nor do I want to.”

She had some sense that a personal tragedy had driven Callum to join the order, but he’d never confided the details. Maybe one day he would, assuming they even had a future together. Ironic, her wildest and least likely dream had come true, but they might not survive the war.

No, stop thinking that way.

With perfect focus, she zeroed in on him, loving the way he let her look. For the first time, it wasn’t forbidden or wrong to want this—to crave him like the crescendo of an unfinished sonata. With delicate touches, she traced his features: his strong nose, his secretly seductive mouth, the wildness of his beard. His lashes fluttered as if he found her touch difficult to withstand.

“All right?” she asked.

“It’s been such a long time.” His voice was all gravel and raw hunger. “Please.”

His need went straight through her, centering in her core, and though the ache was soft and faint, she wanted him. Again.

This time, they would come together.

Without further foreplay, she straddled him and steadied his cock with one hand, the other braced on his shoulder. Joss sank down onto his big, hard cock in a smooth motion, gasping at the shocking pleasure. Hot. Hard. So unbelievably good.

She curled her nails into his chest, marking with shallow indents. No permanent damage, but he liked it, or maybe it was the way she moved on him, riding hard and fast, determined to fuck him so well that he’d forget there had ever been anyone else in his heart. Logically speaking, that was ridiculous, but the need rioting in her head didn’t make sense.

Mine. He’s mine now. Forever mine. Finally mine.

“Slow down, kit. I won’t last.”

“I don’t want you to,” she grunted. “Want it fast and hot and uncontrollable this time. Soft and slow next time.”

Callum bit out a curse. “As my lady commands.” Then tumbled her beneath him and pushed deep. Joss scratched at his back and bit his shoulder as he thrust deep and fast, greedy in his desire.

She wrapped her legs around his hips, utterly open to him, but she wasn’t passive. Joss lifted her hips and tightened her pussy on his cock, each clench dragging a tortured groan from him, and his cock throbbed inside her in response. His body could have swamped her and she wanted him to, but even now, he was careful, holding himself up on his arms to avoid crushing her.

I’m stronger than that.

Joss pulled him down, and then his arms went around her, lifting her slightly, not even a whisper of light between them. He set his face in the curve between her neck and shoulder, his beard scraping her skin as he lost control. His hips went wild, and she couldn’t keep up, so she squirmed until she could rub her clit, trying frantically to orgasm when he did.

Callum let go at last with a soul-deep groan, spurting inside her. She held him tight with her other arm and rubbed out another little orgasm, just a small fluttery one that let her milk the last of his come with her soft pulses.

Joss shivered and went lax beneath him, basking in the joy of being his. At last.

“I am utterly undone,” he mumbled.

She touched him everywhere she could reach, petting his arms, his shoulders, his back, smoothing the sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. In answer, Callum brushed his lips against hers, and she tasted her own sex. Mmm. Delicious.

He stayed inside her until he softened completely, and then he rolled to the side, settling her against him with easy strength. She loved the hair on his chest and his broad shoulders, and his thighs—well, she could spend hours licking and nibbling them.

“Keep staring at me like that. See what happens.”

“At a guess, we never leave this bed and eventually die of dehydration.”

“Might be the way to go,” he muttered.

“I can finish you off…”

“Now I’m the one who needs a rest. I’m sorry, kit. I wanted to make it perfect the first time and instead—”

“It was,” she cut in. “You’re so sexy when you lose control. Did you know you bite your lip when you come?”

An actual flush suffused his cheeks, and Joss decided he had never been more adorable. “How the devil would I know that?”

Her voice went husky. “I’m a careful observer, and I was watching you closely. Your eyes slide half-closed, your head falls back, and you bite your lip, just before you come inside me. Now everyone will know that I’m yours.”

“Yes.” He was breathing fast again, and his cock was trying to rise in response to her voice. The shaft was still slick with her juices, head ruddy with fresh lust.

“How are you doing this?” he demanded.

“I’m just describing what I saw.”

“Used to think sex was simple, a drive that I could ignore. I’m starting to think that I didn’t understand anything. I thought once we made love, it would take the edge off, but now…” Callum closed his eyes and shook his head.

“It will get stronger,” she predicted. “Did you forget about what happens during the mating bond?”

“Shit.”

Mating frenzy. Since he’d been cut off from the sexual side of his nature for years, it might even hit Callum harder than most. In the middle of a war, that could prove inconvenient.

“Try not to fret about it. Let’s simply take joy in each other.” Joss didn’t speak aloud her deepest fear, but he knew.

He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, raising her face as if for a kiss. “Things seem dire indeed just now, kit, but we’ve come through everything together. I won’t let anyone take you from me, not even—”

“Don’t say it. That sort of vow challenges the gods to prove you wrong.”

“Fine. As long as you know I mean every word that you didn’t let me say.”

What Callum willed and what lay in store ahead might not be the same. Joss had lost so many people already; being with him like this seemed like a huge risk, one she couldn’t have resisted. Not when he was everything she’d ever wanted, wrapped up in one bearded, beautiful curmudgeon.

“I know,” she whispered.

“They’ll be talking about us. Probably going to say I chose you out of expedience, hoping for an alliance.”

“I don’t care.” Though honestly, maybe she did mind, a little. It would be nice if the bears believed that Callum loved her, not that he was using her to get help from her people or was desperate for an heir.

Shit. We should talk about that.

“I do. I’ll set the record straight.”

Joss shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll just look like you’re protesting too much to cover the truth.”

“If you’re sure.” He kissed the top of her head, arms snug around her.

Gods, what a lovely feeling.

“Uhm. I was wondering…”

“What about?”

We just barely got together, I can’t believe I have to ask this already. “Do you want me to be fertile? Right away, I mean. Because—”

“Hells no. Whatever the abbot said, if we decide to have children, it will be because we want them and we’re ready. Not because I need an heir.”

Joss let out a breath in a relieved sigh. “Thank goodness. I haven’t even really thought about it, whether I want any or not.”

“I want you,” Callum growled. “That’s it. That’s all. You’re my entire world, kit, and I will protect you.”

Days later, that vow still rang in Callum’s ears.

He was starting to understand Joss’s fears, however. With the Gol army on the move, he struggled to decide the best plan of attack, as he couldn’t let them obliterate another settlement. If he thought giving them the factory with critical parts missing would earn them any quarter, he would consider it. But when the Gols found out they had been tricked, they would take it out on civilians.

A line had been crossed in this war, one there was no coming back from.

He rubbed his head in exhaustion. The people of Burnt Amber had welcomed the survivors with generosity and warmth, but cynically he wondered how long it would last when they realized the hold was one week away from going on rations.

Callum couldn’t stand to order the men to a battle they couldn’t win, but he couldn’t permit another massacre either. These truths circled like water in a drain, and he came to no different conclusions as the meeting ended.

Hell. I just daydreamed my way through the first open forum.

Maybe the more important issue was that he held one, letting everyone have their say. The situation couldn’t be solved with a few words, but he was trying to be the leader the people deserved, even if he wasn’t entirely there yet.

He stood at the door and shook hands forty times as people left the hall. The room had been packed, standing room only, and he’d asked Jere to officiate because they had a friendlier demeanor. Sure enough, he suspected a lot more people felt emboldened to air their thoughts and ask questions than they would have if he had started things out with a scowl and a demand of “What?! You wanted my attention. Spit it out already!”

Joss kept making eye contact during the session and gesturing at him to smile, but from the way Trini and Emilia choked, his attempts in that regard might not have been successful.

An elderly woman who looked vaguely familiar paused and searched his face, as if waiting for something. Callum offered his hand, suspecting he was about to disappoint her.

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

He decided honesty was best. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“It was a long time ago, after all. My name is Agnes Kildew. I helped your mother in Bright’s Landing, many years ago. When she was working, you often—”

“Came to your house and you made butter cookies for me. We…worked on puzzles together, too.” Now that he was truly seeing her, he noticed the marks long years had left on her, but he could also recognize the woman he’d called Auntie Ags.

“Nobody heard from you after Win died,” she said gently. “We didn’t know you had joined the order. You vanished on everyone who cared about you, Callum. For years, your friends came to me, asking if I knew where you had gone, and I didn’t even know if you were alive or dead.” Her pale eyes grew misty, and she wiped away a tear with an impatient thumb. “Thank you for keeping yourself safe.”

Back then, he’d experienced a desperate desire to burn everything down behind him, abandon his former life and never see or speak to anyone who reminded him of the man he’d been, the one who drove Win to end her own life. Now, that sick feeling rushed back. It wasn’t Agnes’s fault, just the guilt tightening on his neck like a noose.

What right do I have to be happy? Even for a little while.

“I’m glad you made it out,” he said gruffly, hardly able to speak for the pressure choking him.

“Your mate saved me. I was in the group she led to safety. I’m not as fast as I was and I have a bone condition and…well, you don’t want to hear about my ailments.”

Truthfully, he didn’t. “Joss is exceptional. I would be lost without her.”

But maybe he had no right to be with her. Especially not if there was a risk that one day soon, she’d be feeling trapped and hopeless, smothered by his love as it veered toward obsession.

“Would it be all right if I hugged you?”

He didn’t want her to, but he couldn’t bring himself to decline either. Perhaps he represented a brighter time in her life, but for him, she embodied the bleakest point, the lowest ebb of his spirit. When he left Bright’s Landing, he hadn’t expected to live long. The order saved you, gave you friendship, peace, solace.

And you broke those vows.

The turmoil in his head got louder.

When Agnes hugged him, he brooked it stolidly and patted her half-heartedly. She smelled of dried herbs, a scent he could almost remember, but he couldn’t put a name to it. Suddenly Joss was beside him.

“Jere needs to talk to you. They said it’s urgent. Can you come?”

Agnes stepped back with a careful, gracious gesture. “I’m sorry for delaying you. We can speak later if you like. I’d love to talk about your mother.”

Another painful wrench. Callum tried not to think about everyone he’d lost. Living required an empty mind, empty heart, and that way he could go through the motions, but that wasn’t possible anymore. He was no longer a solitary boat floating on an empty sea; Joss tethered him to the world and all the pain he had suppressed for years roared inside him, a bitter and festering mess that he should’ve healed over or died from by now. Somehow, he had done neither, just hovered above the pit, a whisper from destruction but refusing to admit as much.

Joss wrapped her hand around his wrist and towed him out of the crowd. When they reached a quiet area behind the hall, she said, “You looked like you were about to chew off your own arm in there. Are you all right? Who was she?”

The air was fresh and cool, and he gulped it down like spring water. When Callum rubbed at his forehead with the back of his hand, it came away clammy. He needed a bath but washing his body might not be enough to cleanse his mind.

“She watched me when I was a boy,” he said eventually.

That’s not an explanation. She’ll ask, you know she will. And maybe she needs to know, yeah? What she’s walking into. Much as he hated the idea that she’d turn from him once she knew, he also couldn’t let this go on without being honest about the danger.

“You think you know me, kit, but the shadow behind me, it’s bad. I’ve spent years doing penance and searching for peace, and it’s all undone with a few words from someone who knew me then.”

“You’re making me nervous,” she said, lacing their fingers together.

Her hand was so small compared to his. Callum pulled her palm up and measured. Her fingertips ended around his first knuckle. Letting out a ragged sigh, he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and then deliberately let go.

“Let’s walk,” he said.

His steps carried them to the small garden behind the chapel. The paths were a bit bare, but in a few weeks, provided there was sufficient wind and rain, the flowers would bloom and green leaves would cover these spindly branches. Even in the midst of war, life found a way.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Joss hurried to catch up to him.

Belatedly, he realized he had left her behind, taking long and nervous strides. But she ran after him, as she always had, and on their second loop, he paced himself to match her, conscious that their connection was fragile and precious.

I could lose her too. I could hurt her.

“Before, before I joined the order, I loved someone very much,” Callum said in a rusty voice. “It felt like I couldn’t breathe without her. I was…too much.”

Too much in every respect. Too hungry, too greedy. Too demanding.

He could have told Joss more about Win—how she loved wildflowers and she painted watercolors that shone like a summer day—but that was beyond him. One day, he might be able to say her name without guilt and shame but he doubted it. And he’d learned nothing, apparently, because his entire body still tensed when anyone else approached Joss. He wanted to wall her off from the world, and that would be a special sort of hell for one who thrived on performing beautiful music for an adoring crowd.

“She took her own life. Because of me.” There, it was finally out, and he waited for the judgment, for the condemnation that would follow.

23.

Joss had known of some unspoken heartbreak in Callum’s past, but she hadn’t imagined the scope.

She had to answer with care. “Even if she said that in a moment of anguish, the issue is never so simple. The reason people make that choice is because they’re suffering. Pain is a clouded lens, and it distorts reality. People hear a terrible inner voice whispering that they have no value, that nobody cares. And sometimes, when people are hurting, they lash out at those closest to them.” Joss took his hand when it seemed as if he might reply, curling her fingers through his. “I’m speaking from experience. Well, observation anyway.”

He had been about to object to her assessment, she could tell. That gave him pause. “You lost someone dear to you?”

“My uncle. And when I was young, I heard the things he used to say to my mother. She always said it was because he was hurting. The family tried to help, and Uncle Sal spoke with the Seer so many times, but…in the end, we lost him.” She studied their joined hands. “It’s never one factor, Callum. Never. Pain is the reason, usually from multiple sources. I’m not saying your relationship was healthy. I don’t know how you were together, but you can stop shouldering all the blame. The loss of a loved one is tragic. It’s heartbreaking. But it’s definitely not all your fault.”

He stared down at her with a desperate longing, as if he wanted to trust her words, but that it contradicted what he’d believed for so long. Joss closed the distance between them and hugged him, leaning her head against his chest. She ached for him and for the love he’d lost.

“That’s not true,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure.

“She was in a bad place mentally or she wouldn’t have made that choice.”

“But she said I was smothering her. I’m afraid that I’ll do the same to you, kit. Those old instincts are still there. I haven’t conquered them.”

“I’ll tell you if I need space. I’m truly sorry for her pain and for your loss. Now I understand why you joined the order.”

“That’s why I fought so hard against leaving. They took me in at my lowest ebb and made something of me. And I’ve been scared, so scared of repeating old patterns.” He took a deep, shaky breath, and she felt his hand in her hair.

“I’m not her,” she said deliberately. “And there’s no reason history would repeat. I hope you can view our relationship as entirely separate, and anyway, I think you’ll find as we go forward that your time in the monastery did change you. Time does that on its own, even without sacred vows.”

“You’re so wise,” he said.

“Don’t I seem like I would be? Don’t answer that.” Joss didn’t want to hear that she seemed cheerful and scatterbrained, as that had been the tune for most of her life. Privately, Joss thought she was every bit as clever as her cousin Pru, just a touch less focused.

“You do. I was paying a compliment, kit. Because you intuit people on a level that I cannot. Most motives are oblique to me, and that’s a dangerous weakness in one who’s trying to lead.”

“I’ll help you,” she said at once.

In response, he lifted her with effortless strength and kissed the hell out of her. He might have been celibate for a long time, but he hadn’t lost any of his skill. Joss kissed him back, reveling in being able to do so on a sunny day in the middle of the chapel garden. Many things were currently terrible, but this? Perfection. She purred and bit his lip, then licked it as he broke the kiss.

“I’m not saying the weight is gone or that the hurt is. It will never fade entirely. But for the first time, I believe that maybe I can make you happy.”

“We have a lot to do before then.”

Callum raised a brow. “We?”

“We,” she said firmly.

His hazel eyes melted, completely molten, and Joss suspected Callum might have carried her off—not that she’d have minded—except a family from Bright’s Landing came into the garden then. She recognized the woman right away, the one who had pleaded for her to wait for her mate. The other woman must have arrived with the other group, and she smiled at seeing this family reunited at least.

Callum set her down gently. “This isn’t the time or place.

With a rueful shake of her head, she led him back to the main path. It still boggled her mind that he let her. With their joined hands, they drew more glances from other Burnt Amber residents, but most were smiling. Joss caught a whisper of gossip as two people passed.

“He’s doing this for the hold, you know. I had no idea he could be so charming, but she’s already completely won over—”

“—our only hope for an alliance.”

“So much better than Renna. At least Callum’s not led by his—”

Oh shit.

Whirling, Callum took a step as if he was about to pummel whoever had said the last thing. Joss didn’t let go of his hand, so when he stretched their arms to the fullest extent, he had to choose between forcefully pulling free and staying with her. Her heart twisted a little at his glower, but in the end, he didn’t use his strength against her. With a thunderous expression, he stomped to her side.

“I need to deal with that,” he snapped.

“Not by punching people.”

“Fine. What do you suggest?”

Sighing, Joss shook her head. “Let me think about it. This isn’t our biggest worry right now, and you know that.”

“I’m aware, but those rattle traps are asking for it.”

“Agreed. When you calm down, we’ll talk about this again. You’re late for your check-in with Jere.” She rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek above the beard. “I’m afraid Renna has heard the talk too, so I’m going to see how she’s doing.”

As she turned, he whispered, “Thank you,” so softly that she wasn’t sure he was even talking to her. She kept walking, but his heartfelt appreciation warmed her. Sometimes it seemed as if she’d waited a lifetime for someone who genuinely needed her and who saw that she could offer more than a song.

Joss checked the cafeteria first since it was just past the afternoon meal, but she didn’t find Renna there. Maybe the other woman was in her room, hoping to let the gossip die down. Heading there next, she jogged to their building and up the stairs. She rounded the corner and slammed into Renna, knocking a box from her hands. Reflexively, she knelt, apologizing the whole time, then she stilled.

I’m holding pill packets.

“You’re the one,” she said, hardly able to believe what she was seeing. “Why? Why are you stealing meds and selling them to the enemy?”

Renna collapsed, dropping the medicine she’d scrambled to conceal and the box tumbled to the hallway floor beside her. “I think…I’m relieved it’s finally over. What will Callum do to me?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Quickly, Joss picked up the meds and hauled Renna to her feet. “Come with me.”

The other woman shot her a terrified look. “You’re taking me in?”

“What? I’m not a constable. I’ll hear you out, then decide what we should do.”

She escorted the trembling woman to her quarters and because she didn’t know what else to do, she made tea while Renna got herself together. Such nervousness didn’t indicate a habitual criminal, but she never would’ve guessed that she was the thief either.

“Here. Drink this and calm down.”

By the time Renna emptied the teacup, she seemed more settled. She glanced at the box of meds on the table between them with an expression of loathing. “I didn’t tell you the entire truth when I said I lost my parents in Hallowell. They’re gone, but the Gols took them. The Eldritch contacted me after I arrived here to tell me they could negotiate for their release if I did something for them.”

“You’re stealing to try and save your family,” Joss said.

“Yes. But they haven’t been able to contact me since Callum shut off the wireless. I’ve been continuing as I was instructed but…”

“I hate to sound skeptical, but did they even send you proof of life?”

Renna burst into tears.

The last thing Callum wanted to do was focus on business.

He wanted to shift and run and snarl and possibly uproot a few trees. Trapped inside the hold, that was impossible, and Joss was right. There were more important things to worry about. Like the footage coming in from their last remaining drones.

“Bad news,” Trini said as he strode into the security office. She was standing behind Emilia, who frowned over the images she was analyzing.

“Is there any other kind? Let me hear it.”

“We think the Gols have scouted the factory. They’re moving in that direction anyway, and they’ll be there by tomorrow morning.”

Callum closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, a chill went through him, accompanying a sense that the world as they knew it was about to change. “We’re out of time. If they take the factory and plunder all the ordinance…”

“The war is lost,” Emilia said somberly.

“If we’re wrong about where they’re heading, when I turn communications back on to alert the factory, it could give away the location.” Sighing, he understood that there was no right answer, apart from keeping the mines and weapons out of enemy hands at all costs. “I’ll confer with Jere and let you know.”

“They’re in the conference room,” Trini said.

He found Jere standing by the signal device as if willing it to transmit. “Have you heard from Ash Valley?”

“Not since that first message. I’ll report on the current conditions before we move on to other matters.”

Callum leaned against the wall and nodded. “Go ahead.”

“I haven’t made much progress investigating the medicine theft. There’s been too much else going on. The survivors from Bright’s Landing have all been accommodated, though some had to double up. I checked in with the cafeteria and we have enough food to stretch for four more days. After that, rations. On rations we can last twenty days, though it won’t be enjoyable.”

“We have to go all-in,” Callum said. “They couldn’t break our walls because the defectors took all the heavy weapons to Alastor in Hallowell. If the Gols had breached Burnt Amber, this would already be over.”

His second closed their eyes at the prospect of such horror. “But now, they’re targeting our civilians. And we can’t let what happened at Bright’s Landing happen ever again. If it comes to a choice between starvation and death in battle, I know which I’ll pick.”

He didn’t want to make this call, but Jere was right. “Me too. I’ll call the factory and tell them to sabotage the lines. The Gols may have numbers on us, but if we choose our engagements, we can make them work for the win.”

“For a would-be conqueror, Tycho Vega is a damned coward,” Jere bit out. “None of the footage ever shows him in the field.”

Callum curled his lip. “Don’t get me started. He’s likely holed up in Golgerra waiting for his foot soldiers to deliver the news of total domination.”

Jere said softly, “I really thought the other Animari would aid us, even without the Pax Protocols. But…we’re alone?”

“Don’t give up hope.” He wasn’t good at this, but he clasped Jere on the shoulder, hoping it was enough. “You’ll lead the clan in my absence.”

“But I want to fight!”

“We can’t leave the people leaderless, and you’re kinder than I am. Warmer, too. They’ll do better with you at the helm.” While he didn’t add ‘if I die horribly’, it was implicit. “We can’t both go to war and leave them rudderless.”

Jere frowned for a few seconds but eventually nodded. “I’d argue that you should remain behind, but my people skills are better than yours. No offense.”

“None taken. I’m off to make that call then.”

In the security office, he silently activated the wireless and switched off the jammers, hoping people had gotten away from carrying their phones everywhere. Quickly, he connected to the factory. “This is Callum at Burnt Amber.”

“What the hell is happening? I’ve got people from Bright’s Landing asleep in my breakroom and a stockpile spilling out of the warehouse. There haven’t been any pickups since—”

“I don’t have time to listen to your complaints,” Callum cut in. Such terseness might cost him later, but he couldn’t worry about employee relations right then. “We believe that the Golgoth are heading for your location. I need you to sabotage the machines and…” He hated like hell to give this order. “Destroy the warehouse. Then get the hell out of there. Do you understand?”

There was a brief silence. “How long do we have?”

“Twelve to eighteen hours. Gone before dawn, that’s your target. Will you comply?” he asked.

“Affirmative. I’ll rig the warehouse to blow when they try to open the door without the access key. If we’re wasting our shipments, we should at least take out some Gols as well.”

“Good thinking,” Callum said. “That’s all. We’ll be out of touch again until it’s safe to turn comms back on permanently.” If it ever is. “You can reach us in an emergency using the old signal device, if you can find one on your end.”

“I’ll remember that. Goddess bless and keep you. Martens out.”

Neither Trini nor Emilia spoke as he switched off communications again. Callum activated the public announcement channel, used so rarely that everyone knew it must be a grave matter the moment his voice boomed across the hold. “We need everyone who’s willing and able to fight ready to march this evening. Assemble in the square. No one will be conscripted or compelled. We’re moving to protect our other settlements.” And the factory, but he didn’t mention the latter, aware that he would sound like he cared about weapons more than people.

He tapped the button to turn off the transmission, well able to imagine the shock and fear rioting throughout the hold. Callum had tried to keep how bad the situation was under wraps, but now everyone knew. Trained soldiers or not, they had to defeat the Gols. Pledging fealty to Tycho Vega wasn’t an option.

“We’re with you,” Emilia said, offering her hand for him to shake.

So bad at this sort of thing. Callum never knew how much pressure was right or how long he should hold, and it would be simpler if he could simply demur without looking like a total ass. He got through it and left the security chiefs to their work.

Though he wasn’t a monk anymore, he still took comfort in the rituals. People kept stopping him on the way to the chapel, inundating him with terrified questions. Callum answered as best he could, offering consolation by pretending he was still a holy brother. That was easier somehow, speaking dispassionate words of comfort even if he no longer entirely believed that this was all part of the goddess’s plan. Even before Joss, war had stripped away some of his faith, leaving him to question divinities that allowed such evil to flourish.

At last he reached the serenity of the chapel, where he lit the candles and knelt, praying for those they had lost, praying for the survivors as well. In time a semblance of peace suffused him, fractured but still tangible. He groaned as he straightened to find Joss waiting for him silently in the last row. Her hands were folded and her head was bowed in a respectful posture, but her eyes? They were fixed on him.

“You heard the news,” he said.

“Everyone did. They’re weeping in the garden out back. I thought I might find you here. Making peace with the goddess in case you don’t come back?” She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes, the green of an icy sea with a storm threatening.

“The war won’t kill me,” he whispered. “But leaving you might.”

“Then don’t. Let me come with you. I’m officially blooded in battle, and before, you said anyone who was willing to fight. Here I am.” Joss stood and did a little twirl, then ran down the aisle toward him.

Callum caught her in both arms and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, leaning down to get as close as possible. She feels so good. “I’ve never been able to refuse you. Not even when I should.”

“If nothing else, I can scout.”

Breathing her in, he shuddered at how much he wanted her, though it hadn’t been that long. “We have about six hours, kit. How should we spend them?”

She leveled on him a look that absolutely smoldered. “Let me swing by the club to tell Nayan I won’t be performing tonight.”

24.

Joss found Callum waiting for her in bed. Already naked.

I could get used to this.

Maybe it was the years of celibacy that made him so hungry. Regardless, she was on board with this program, especially if they only had six hours.

Three hundred and sixty minutes.

Not nearly enough.

After that, it would be all death and destruction, so it was totally normal to do a little life-affirming first. Even if it wasn’t, she had no intention of stopping.

She flung her clothes to all corners or the room and pounced on him. He hauled her in for a long, luscious kiss—gods, but he’s good with his tongue. She nipped and nuzzled into his mouth, relishing in the feel of his beard.

“You were right,” he gasped.

“About what?”

“It’s getting stronger. I can hardly look at you lately without wanting to—”

“Tear my clothes off? It’s mutual. Lay back, I’m tasting you all over. You had a go, but I haven’t, and that’s criminally unjust.”

“Can’t have that.”

“No, we cannot.”

Obligingly, Callum propped himself up against the headboard, taking up most of her bed in his absurdly sexy sprawl. Joss started at his neck and worked her way down with her mouth, biting his chest and shoulders, until his breath caught. Tracing his nipples with her tongue. Kissing his chest. Biting just hard enough to make him quiver and dig his hands into the covers.

“Fuck,” he snarled. “We don’t have that much time, kit. And you’re taking yours.”

“Long enough for me to savor you. Just let yourself feel good for once.”

“I’d rather feel you,” he muttered.

But he didn’t use his physical power to stop her and she kept nuzzling lower, over his belly, to the sizable cock throbbing for attention. To torment him further, she loved his thighs with her tongue, licking between them, ever so slowly inward.

He squirmed and groaned and when she showed no urgency, he fisted his cock and stroked it while she kissed and licked his balls. “Don’t know what you have in mind, but my self-control is hanging by a thread.”

“Can’t have that. And you’ve had ample opportunity to play with this. It’s my turn, hands off.” With that, she pulled his cock toward her mouth and tasted the tip with her tongue.

First, fluttery licks, then more thorough ones. He was already leaking, and his whole body jerked when she sucked him into her mouth fully. Callum tangled his hands in her hair and tugged, then he urged her head down.

“All the way if you’ve a mind to pleasure me.”

She smiled with her eyes since her lips were occupied, and then she devoted herself to sucking him off, using lips, teeth, throat, and tongue in sensuous concert, working him until his hips moved, urgent, furtive little thrusts as if he wanted to control himself but couldn’t.

His unleashed need drove her own even higher, so she worked her pussy against the mattress each time she tasted his excitement on her tongue. She felt each insistent swell and throb, and his groans sounded like he might be getting close. But he pulled her mouth free with a wet pop.

“I’m fully primed, but I want to make love to you before…”

“Yes,” she breathed as he pulled her up for a long, delicious kiss.

He sipped at her tongue and ran his hand down her back, massaging in sweet circles, and then he palmed her ass, rubbing it as well. The motion drew their bodies together, creating friction, the slick slide of her pussy against his cock.

“That feel good?” he whispered.

“Yes.” That one syllable was all she could get out as he adjusted her on him effortlessly, moving her slowly back and forth across his shaft.

Then he caressed her clit with a delicate touch, one she couldn’t have imagined just by looking at him. He strummed her like an instrument, watching her face the whole time for cues and adjusting speed and pressure according to her slightest reaction. Her nipples were tight, aching for attention, and she touched her own breasts, but as she had done with him, he tugged them away.

“What did you say before? Let me.”

He caressed and stroked, kissed and sucked, until she trembled with need. But when she tried to finish their connection, he gave a sultry smile and flipped her over.

“Like this.”

Callum was so big as he pushed into her from behind, and he was everywhere, his scent enfolding her just as his body did, curved above her, over her. He played with her breasts as he fucked her, deep and slow, and offered the occasional stroke to her clit. The fifth time he touched her there, she came all over his shaft and he kept moving, working her to another orgasm.

Only then did he let go, sweeping aside her hair to kiss the side of her neck as his cock throbbed and softened. She felt…claimed by that kiss. Taken. And it was odd, because it was the softest, gentlest touch, one that she would feel on her skin forever. The heat of his mouth, the scrape of his beard.

She rolled over into his arms and settled with her head on his shoulder. “That was beautiful. And so are you.”

“I’m not, but I believe you think so.”

“I am never wrong,” she declared. Which was, in fact, a spectacularly inaccurate statement.

Callum must be truly fond of her, however, because he didn’t dispute the issue. Instead he buried his face in her messy hair and said, “I love the way you smell.”

Joss grinned. “Right now, I smell like you’ve royally fucked me.”

“Like I said.” A lazy stroke of one big hand down her back.

“Tell me a secret, something nobody else knows about you,” she demanded.

“That won’t be difficult, kit. You’ve gotten closer to me than anyone has in years.”

“Okay, I love that, but I’m not letting you off the hook.”

“Fine,” Callum said, sounding thoughtful. “I wanted to be a…sailor when I was small.”

“You mean a pirate,” she guessed.

He shot her a startled look. “How did you know?”

“That’s adorable. My turn. I had a completely filthy sex fantasy about you when I first saw you in full ceremonial regalia.”

He levered up on one elbow. “That’s remarkably wicked. Perhaps I should assign penance.” Then he cupped her ass as if he might smack it, and while Joss wouldn’t have said that was her thing ten minutes ago, she might get on board with naughty penitent and stern monk, if Callum had those inclinations.

For a few moments, he held the imposing stare, then he started laughing. “Relax, kit. I’m teasing. I’ve no mind to punish you for admiring me. One day I’ll put on the robe so you can strip it off, if you like.”

“Are you allowed to do that?” she asked, wide-eyed, feigning shock.

“I won’t tell the abbot if you don’t.”

For some reason, she imagined confessing that fantasy to the old monk and couldn’t stop giggling. “Let’s agree to keep quiet for the sake of my reputation if not my immortal soul.”

“You certainly imperiled mine,” he muttered. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to resist you?”

“Terrible and torturous, I hope.” To soften those words, she kissed his nose. “In a perfect life, what would our life look like for you?”

“Our life,” he repeated in a musing tone. “I do enjoy the sound of that.”

“That’s not an answer.” She tipped her head sideways to see his face better.

“In all honesty, I haven’t had the leisure to consider. Everything has happened so fast, and we still don’t have time to think about where we go from here.”

The word ‘time’ made her flinch. Only five hours left. “That’s true,” she said softly.

“What about you?” Callum asked.

Gods, she couldn’t admit that she’d been building houses with him in her mind from the first moment she saw him. So she prevaricated. “Music has been the only permanent fixture in my life so far. I hope you’ll be the next immovable object.”

“Just try getting rid of me now.” Callum kissed her temple, her brow, her chin, and the warmth seemed fleeting somehow, a joy she could too easily lose.

Joss didn’t want to sleep, but it would be incredibly ill-advised to march without resting at all. With a regretful sound, she closed her eyes.

Callum gazed down at her sleeping face. His lover. No, more than that. His beloved. That word was big enough to represent the space she occupied in his heart. In the courtyard, volunteers had begun to assemble. It was almost departure time and…

He would not awaken her.

Earlier, he’d spoken the truth when he said he couldn’t refuse her. Which was why he’d chosen the coward’s route and elected to leave without a personal farewell. She might not forgive him and perhaps she shouldn’t.

Let’s leave it up to fate then.

Though he was many things, he wasn’t bastard enough to slip away without leaving a message, and if she woke up while he was writing to her, so be it. Then she was meant to fight alongside him. In the sitting room, he set pen to paper and let the words flow.

My dearest kit,

By the time you get this, I’ll be gone. Goddess willing, I’ll see you again soon and you can berate me to your heart’s content. Claw and hiss and bite if you will; I’ll take it all.

The one thing I can’t do, love, is see you wounded. Not in body, not in spirit. You’re willing to fight, but you’re not a warrior. Taking lives changes you. I saw clearly how tormented you were after saving me, and I can’t stand to see your bright spark extinguished. I’m afraid more killing will damage the soul that sings like an angel, and I can’t live without that light. For me, you’re like the sun, rising suddenly when I’d lost all hope of seeing another daybreak. I need you at Burnt Amber where I know you’ll be safe. The drones can scout and if they’re taken by the enemy, it won’t break my heart.

Stay with our people. Love them as I can’t. Comfort them. Sing for them. Keep the fire of hope alive. I truly believe there’s magic in you and it doesn’t belong on the battlefield. You are a blessing I never expected, a treasure too dear for my possession, if I’m honest. Your grace belongs to the whole damn world, and I’m so lucky that I got to be with you for a while.

I hope this isn’t all, but if the worst comes to pass, don’t mourn me. Just call me an awful bastard and forget me. Part of me hopes that you won’t be able to, but then, I’m a selfish ass. Cowardly too, which is why you’re getting this letter. (I’m afraid I’ll yield if you look at me with those eyes. When it comes to you, I have no self-restraint.)

Please stay safe. Stay strong. Goddess willing, this will be over soon, and I can come home to you. There are words I’m saving to speak to you in person.

The rottenest of bastards, Callum

Quietly, he set down the pen and listened. Still no noise from the bedroom. With precise motions that revealed nothing of his anguish and turmoil, he folded the note and wrote her name on the back side of the page.

Then he crept to the doorway to drink her in. Red hair, in shadow now, so it hid the fire, smooth skin, her soft, generous mouth curved in a half-smile. She must be dreaming, hopefully about me. But she didn’t stir, deeply asleep and sprawled in the warm spot where his body had been.

Then he gathered himself and padded from the apartment, boots in hand. He didn’t put them on until he got to the end of the hallway. Frightened and fluttery, Renna stepped out into the corridor and she seemed like she was about to ask him something, but she appeared to change her mind.

“Good luck out there,” was all she said.

Callum offered a curt nod and when he stepped into the stairwell, he was startled by a damn trickle on his cheek. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wept. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he reined himself in. This wasn’t the face of a man ready to win a war.

In the square, there were more people assembled than he’d expected. Fully half of Burnt Amber’s population, a sizable force. But pitting untrained civilians against Gols in brute form, eh. Even bear strength might not be enough. Not everyone had the instinct to rend and tear into another person.

But everyone gathered seemed determined, and Callum didn’t mince words. “We’re leaving in five minutes. We don’t have supplies to spare, so we’ll travel in bear form and hunt on the way.”

“That will leave more food for the survivors,” a young woman said.

That cut him to the bone. These folks suspected they might be following him to certain death, but they were going anyway. I’m not worthy of this. The tears that got away from him before threatened again.

“We don’t have squads,” he said then. “Just listen and follow orders out there. If you hear from Trini or Emilia, they speak with my voice as well.”

The time ticked away slowly. Please don’t wake, Joss.

Signaling to the hawk shifter, Callum cut across to greet him. “Can you scout for us?”

“Easily. But you won’t understand my reports.”

“Simple code. One screech for all-clear, two for danger ahead.”

“I do not screech.” But the monk nodded and promised to keep watch from the skies.

Soon, it was time to go. And Joss was still nowhere to be seen, thankfully. She must be exhausted.

“Good luck out there,” Jere said.

He hesitated. “Joss wanted to come. I didn’t wake her. It may be…well. Never mind. Try not to let her follow. It would mean a lot to me to know that she’s safe.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jere promised.

“Outside the walls, single file, step where I step. Let’s not lose anyone to our own mines.”

There were no words that could prepare anyone further for what lay ahead, so he led the way to the front of the hold. No need for the secret exit with the enemy preparing to attack the factory. Quietly Callum undressed and shifted, then the guards opened the gates.

For such a large group, they left silently, mostly bears, but half of the brothers were present as well offering a small mix of cats and wolves. Callum pushed forward and thankfully, the ragtag army followed in an orderly line. He didn’t breathe easy until they reached the forest, well clear of the walls, both because of the mines and because he feared a certain wildcat might come racing from the hold, ready to bite his nose off.

But there was another reason for his relief too. If Joss was in the field with him, he would be constantly distracted, worried about where she was, if she was safe, if she was scared, and that diffusion of focus might cost Burnt Amber everything. In battle, she was a weakness he couldn’t afford.

Callum had cut out his own heart by leaving her, protected behind Burnt Amber’s walls.

25.

Joss yawned and stretched, awakening in increments from the best sleep she’d had in weeks. The hold was strangely silent, and when she opened her eyes, a ray of sunlight slanted across—

Sunlight?

That couldn’t be right. We were supposed to leave last night. Suddenly, she knew exactly what had happened. He left. Went to war without me.

Anger and fear overwhelmed her in a drowning rush, to the point that she might explode. Joss came up on her knees and screamed, screamed and pounded the mattress with her fists, screamed until she had no breath left and she was in danger of damaging her throat. Only the latter threat quieted her, but the dark emotions rioting inside her didn’t abate.

I could hate him for this. How could he? How?

She threw on some clothes and stumbled into the sitting room on shaky legs, hardly knowing what she ought to do next. Where she found a letter neatly folded. This proved Callum had executed a planned deception. It hadn’t been a momentary impulse. He took me to bed and cuddled with me, knowing he meant to leave me.

Glaring at the note, she considered burning it unread, but in the end, she couldn’t stand to do that, and she unfolded the page with tears streaming down her cheeks. When she scanned the words he had left, she cried harder and hugged the paper to her chest. It was all too real now, an immutable truth. Though they had a long lead, it might be possible for Joss to catch up, as she could move with more speed than a large group. Certainly, it wouldn’t be difficult to track them as she had done with the Gols.

But he asked me to stay and comfort our people.

That was the one solace she had—that he’d used that word and asked for her help. It wasn’t the role she wanted to play, but he was right about one thing. She didn’t truly want to go and kill, but she hadn’t wanted to be left behind either. Part of her was furious that he’d replaced her with a fucking drone. A machine couldn’t have saved the people in Bright’s Landing. Hell, her emotions were all over the place, and there was no making sense of them. Joss cried until her eyes felt sore.

At some point, Renna tapped on the door and came in without waiting for Joss to answer. “I heard…well, it was loud. Are you all right?”

“I’m fucking fantastic,” Joss snapped. “You can see that, I’m sure, from the way I’m curled up on the floor crying.”

“You’re upset because they left without you.”

With effort she restrained a hateful response. None of this was Renna’s fault. She had stolen meds and given them to the enemy, but considering the larger issues, theft didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. “Very much,” she muttered.

“I don’t know if this will help at all, but Callum was fighting tears when he left you.”

Joss raised her chin, unable to believe what she’d heard. “Are you serious?”

“He looked absolutely wrecked. I meant to ask him if you’d…spoken to him, but I could tell it wasn’t the time. And I don’t think you have.”

She shook her head. “Not to minimize your crime, but we have more pressing issues. I hope you weren’t expecting immediate resolution.”

“I just…I want my family back. But I don’t think that’s possible.”

Joss reached out and took Renna’s hand. “If they’ve been captured, we’ll negotiate for their release the moment that’s possible. I don’t believe the Eldritch loyalists ever had any intention of doing that. They were just…”

“Making use of me,” Renna finished.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have put it precisely like that. They took advantage of your fear, your loneliness, and perhaps most reprehensibly, your hope.”

“But they sent me pictures. And they must have communicated with my parents. How else would they have known where to find me?” Renna sighed and bowed her head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. It’s over.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I doubt the loyalists have the power to get your family executed in Golgerra. They might not have had the ability to get them extricated either. To me, this seems like a crime of opportunity.”

“You may be right. I wish I’d had someone to talk to about this. I’ve been so alone here since Beren died.”

“I’m sorry.” She enfolded the other woman’s hand in both of hers. “And I’m sorry for what they’re saying about you. That’s actually why I was looking for you when I caught you with the meds.”

“To make sure I was all right?” Smiling, Renna pulled her into a hug, and Joss held on, hard. “I’m the furthest thing from it, but not because of a little gossip. Besides, they’re not doing you any credit either with their speculation.”

“I’m easily seduced but at least I bring with me the potential for an alliance.”

“For what it’s worth, I’ve known about you and Callum for a while.”

Startled, Joss sat back to regard Renna with bemusement. “You did?”

“I noticed that the two of you were spending private time together. As someone with a secret, I worried that you’d noticed something or he had. So I…”

“Spied on us?” Joss guessed.

“Basically. And I discovered that I’m not the only one with secrets.”

“But you didn’t tell anyone. You could have ruined Callum’s reputation, destroyed his chance at leading Burnt Amber.”

Renna raised a brow. “Why would I? I’ve never wanted to lead. I didn’t even wish for that when Beren was alive. The only thing I want is to find my family.”

“I’ll help you,” Joss declared. “At the least, I owe you for protecting us when you didn’t have to. I mean, I swear we didn’t do anything—”

“I don’t care. Whatever passed between you, nobody needs to know and Callum’s been released as a brother. There are no barriers to your happiness now.”

Joss laughed, a bitter sound that held no humor. “Nothing but a few thousand Gols bent on subjugation.”

“We have to win. I don’t know how it will happen, but the goddess won’t allow this to happen.”

If Renna truly believed that, she had more faith than Joss. “I hope you’re right. Have you eaten yet?”

“I was on my way when I heard you…protesting. And I dithered a bit while you cried because I wasn’t sure you’d want comfort from me after what I’ve done.”

Joss rubbed the other woman’s shoulder. “Of course! I’m grateful that you checked on me. You’re a good person, and I hope we’ll be close friends once all the dust settles.”

“We already are.” In a graceful motion, Renna stood and offered her hand. “You need to wash your face and show Burnt Amber that you’re not fazed. If you act natural, even if you don’t feel confident, others will find strength to carry on.”

That’s what Callum asked of me too.

“You’re right. And even if you never wanted to lead, I think you would have done a wonderful job alongside Beren.”

Renna smiled. “Thank you but it’s just common sense.”

While Joss held no official standing, most people already knew that she was Callum’s woman. If she went to pieces, it would impact everyone. She washed her face and put on a little makeup. Fortunately, Animari healing covered for crying jags too, so her eyes weren’t red or puffy any longer. She put her hair up and tidied her clothing, tucked the only love letter she’d ever cared enough to keep into the pocket of her trousers, then she turned to Renna.

“All set. Ready to show the world how unbothered we are?”

“Most definitely. I heard the cooks are putting us on rations, so don’t expect too much from breakfast.”

Joss waved that away, linking arms with Renna as they left. “Is that meant as a profession of faith? That they believe the soldiers will return soon and we’ll need the provisions.”

“I suspect so.”

“Oh, I like that. Then let’s go savor our gruel with big, adoring smiles. Do our part for the war effort and all that.”

“And tonight, you can keep spirits up by performing as usual. I’ll be in the first set of tables, cheering you on.”

Callum marched all night and into the morning.

They rested periodically but never for long. And just past noon, as they neared the factory, a tremendous boom rocked the ground. The Gols reached the warehouse. Wonder how many enemies the explosion took out. Even from a few klicks out, he spotted the plume of smoke rising from the wreckage. Hopefully the survivors and employees were long gone.

This would ruin the bear economy, though. Before, during peacetime, they exported most of the weapons and mines they produced. Humans spent ridiculous amounts on the accoutrements of war and the stockpile that had just gone up in a fiery blast had been overdue for delivery in the south. Now they’d have to pay penalties for failing to fulfill the contract and they’d probably lose the profitable trade agreements already in place.

Maybe it was for the best. Before, he hadn’t cared if they supplied humans the means to kill one another, but now he’d seen the scars of war up close and personal. Hell, the minefield around Burnt Amber was new too. When the Pax Protocols were honored, they had no need for such measures. He had to believe that the war would end—and not with the Animari conquered by Tycho Vega. When peace returned, Burnt Amber should produce something else, turn the factory to other purposes.

They won’t expect an attack, he said in bear. Not now. The Gols are likely disorganized while their leaders decide what to do, now that the factory has been stricken as a resource. We hit them hard from behind and then fall back. Do not give chase. Do not allow them to retaliate. Our goal is to thin their numbers. We cannot win in a single pitched battle. They’ll destroy us once they shift, and they outnumber us two to one. Do you understand?

Growls of assent came from all directions. Hopefully, they all followed instructions. He knew damn well his “army” was made up mostly of townsfolk, some of whom had come from Bright’s Landing thirsty for revenge. They’d left the children behind in the care of others and trusted him to coax a victory from the jaws of probable obliteration.

Goddess, if I earned any favor during my years of service, I could use your blessing now.

He led the force quietly, and they struck without warning.

One minute the Gols were talking amongst themselves, the next, they were being savaged by angry bears. Callum attacked the nearest, raking open his throat so blood sprayed everywhere. He bit the next savagely and tore him apart with his full strength. Huffing a challenge, he pounced the next and crushed the enemy with his weight, then slashed until entrails spilled out. He took out six this way, but the enemy was already starting to rally.

“Attack! Change and defend!” calls rang out.

As soon as the Gols began to shift, the tide of the battle would turn. Callum immediately called the retreat, and they lost ten of their own to bloodlust, bears who didn’t leave fast enough. The Gols chased them for half a klick, until their leaders called them back, fearful of an ambush. There were no more forces lying in wait, but they didn’t know that.

They might be able to fight like this for several days, but eventually the Gols would realize that there was no cunning plan, no hidden resources, only absolute desperation. And then they’ll come for us. He put that from his mind. Living in the moment was the only way to survive.

Once he was sure they’d eluded pursuit, he paused to speak. Solid strike. We can’t hide and hunt in a group this large, though. Trini will take one squad. Emilia another. I’ll head up the last. We split up to eat and reconvene here at nightfall. Stay away from the Gols. We keep moving. Make them hunt for us.

Trini added, if they’re searching for us, they’re not retaliating against another settlement. We just need to winnow them down to more manageable numbers.

That was a much taller order than it might seem. Surviving in the wild with no supplies would tax the environment, but he saw no alternative. Supplies were scarce thanks to the Gol blockade. Maybe it would be worthwhile to strike there in hopes that their brethren might send aid even if they couldn’t send troops.

That’s assuming we can stay alive long enough.

Callum didn’t feel confident about that because they couldn’t afford to pitch camps and getting enough food to sustain this many shifted bears wouldn’t be easy. They risked death from starvation as much as being slaughtered by the Gols. Once more, he locked down these dire thoughts.

Joss must be awake by now. Bet she’s fucking furious.

He couldn’t afford to think of her right now either or the comforts of home. Count off in threes. Group one with Trini. Group two, Emilia. Three is with me. The bears sorted themselves efficiently and they split up to hunt.

As he’d feared, the pickings were slim, thanks to the extended Gol occupation. They had been eating the local game for weeks, and Callum’s group didn’t find much, certainly not enough to sustain them long term. Eventually they’d start to digest their own muscle mass and wouldn’t be able to hold in bear form.

Then I’ll be leading a bunch of weak and naked people into battle. Without weapons. Such a macabre thought, one that would core out his resolve if he let it. On some level, death was death, but it seemed worse to let them die slowly, devouring themselves from within. Without Joss, he tended toward a decidedly dim and gloomy bent, pessimism untouched by hope.

I left that with her, along with all the brightness I’ve never known.

His people were still hungry when they rendezvoused with the rest of the force. By the smell of it, the Gols had been here searching but they’d moved on when they didn’t find the bear resistance. This is what it’s come to, an armed game of hide and seek. It was all so pointless, and he was coming to believe in Joss’s definition of evil, born of fear, unquestioning obedience, or indifference, those willing to commit atrocities to save their own skin.

Callum could tell from the rumbling stomachs that the others had fared no better, but there were no complaints. He suspected that those who had volunteered had done so fully accepting that this might be their final act, a gesture of complete defiance in the face of destruction. It wasn’t cold at least; nor was it raining. Their fur was more than ample to keep them warm on such a fine spring day.

What’s our next move? Trini asked, seeming confident that he had a plan.

Oh, you sweet, innocent child.

Yet the words came, as if from some untapped font of knowledge. There’s a hot spring to the north. We can rest there, though not for long. We must keep them angry, off-balance, and hunting relentlessly for us. Otherwise they’ll turn their wrath on the nearest settlement and that’s what we’re trying to avoid.

Understood, Trini said. Moving now. Fall in!

How long could they function without support? Without food or rest? Hell if he knew, but according to Anwen’s Ride, the saint had gone for twenty days on grit and faith alone. For him, the latter was in short supply, but he had plenty of the former, largely fed on spite.

We will not go quietly, he told Tycho Vega silently. We will fight you with the last breath in our bodies.

26.

For the next few days, Joss carried out Callum’s will. Not in the sense that she was completing his last work, but more that she was adhering to his request. In the evening, she offered cheerful, upbeat shows and encouraged audience participation. Tonight, she would take requests and sing a duet with a lucky audience member who won the lottery Nayan was running.

During the day, she worked with Renna on conservation efforts, reducing waste so their supplies would last longer. But gods, when she glanced around, the hold was so quiet and empty. Those who had remained behind were silent and subdued, likely because everyone knew that the longer the defenders were gone, the less likely it became that they would all return.

Every morning, she checked the signal machine to see if there was any news from Pru. So far, it had been ominously quiet. Her phone had lit up mysteriously with a bunch of messages from Ash Valley, but it wasn’t transmitting any longer. When she asked Jere about it, they said Callum had turned the wireless on briefly to contact the factory before he left.

Which explained all the texts that she couldn’t respond to. Days of them, dumped all at once, from her worried mother. Joss read and reread those. Where did you go? Please call me. Some were angry, others cajoling, more yet sounded worried, and she hated being unable to get in touch.

Part of her wondered what harm it would do to activate comms now, but if that move could hurt those in the field somehow, she’d better not risk it. Worse, it might draw the Gols down on Burnt Amber with all the soldiers gone. If they searched hard, they might find the secret tunnel and then—

No, the wireless would remain off, no matter how frustrated she felt. She set down her phone, as obsessing over how she couldn’t contact her mother did no good. With a faint sigh, she went into the room she’d shared with Callum for too short a time. He didn’t own much, but his clothes were still hanging in the closet, as they’d taken virtually nothing on the march. It was simpler to live as bears and fight as bears. Until their strength runs out.

Ridiculously, she picked up his pillow and tried to breathe him in, but even to her acute senses, his scent had faded. Only a hint of him here now, a whisper of black currant and cedar, a touch of musk. It lacked the living vitality of the scent fresh from his skin, and the slow fade was painful.

Enough. Find something more productive to do with your time.

As Joss came out of her building, an old woman intercepted her, moving with a care that spoke of tender joints. She seemed familiar, and after a moment, Joss identified her as the one who had known Callum as a boy.

“We met briefly, but I don’t remember your name,” she said, figuring it was best to be honest. “I’m Joss Bristow.”

“Callum’s woman, yes. And I’m pleased that a fuzzy memory isn’t a problem that only afflicts those my age. Agnes Kildew.”

“What’s on your mind?” The older woman had headed for her purposefully, so she must have an agenda. Hopefully it wasn’t another impossible request, like a change in menu.

“I hope you don’t think it’s silly, but I have an idea.”

“Go ahead,” Joss said.

“My stamina isn’t what it used to be, but I was thinking we could start a sewing circle, tailor the clothes that have been donated to fit the people who need them. It’s a bad feeling to have only castoffs that don’t fit properly. I know it won’t save lives or anything but—”

“It will be good for morale.” Even without much consideration, Joss loved the idea. “It’s something we can do with the resources we have. Help people and make them feel more at home.”

“And I was thinking, if there’s an interest, I could give knitting classes. I checked the shop and there’s plenty of yarn. It seems as if they’re not too crafty here, but busy hands help in a situation like this.”

With a start, Joss remembered that she had planned to make sweaters for Renna and Callum. She’d even gotten the yarn and began both projects with great intentions, but amid all the chaos and uncertainty, the yarn and needles sat in a cupboard, completely forgotten. “We could make it a group activity,” she suggested. “I don’t know if I’m qualified to teach but I know how to knit, and I could assist you. I have projects of my own to work on anyway.”

“Does that mean I have your support?” Agnes asked.

“Definitely. When did you want to start?”

“No time like the present. We can do fittings for anyone who’s interested in the tailoring service and then host the knitting circle afterward.”

“I’ll speak to the shop owner. I suspect she won’t care about cost at a time like this, but when the wireless comes back online, I can pay for this out of my own account.”

“You’re practically the first lady of Burnt Aber. She’ll extend credit,” Agnes predicted.

Joss…did not hate hearing that. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Let’s do this in the cafeteria, shall we? It’s nice and bright in there. I’ll make an announcement after I secure supplies.”

Breathless, Joss ran all the way to the store, where she explained their idea to the startled proprietor. As the older woman had predicted, the owner let Joss take all her knitting-related supplies on credit. Once she delivered them in several trips, she dashed to the security office to make the announcement.

It truly does help to stay busy.

Twenty people showed up to have their donated clothing adjusted in some way, and five more came to learn how to knit, most of them young parents who wanted to make something for their children. “Like this?” one mother asked.

She’d made the slipknot and had the first rows of what was likely to be a scarf for her little one, though if she got carried away, it could be a blanket as well. Joss nodded. “It’s going to be beautiful.”

“I’ve never made anything for her before.” The woman brushed away a tear. “It seemed like there wasn’t enough time. And now that’s all I have.”

Joss rested her hand briefly on the other woman’s shoulder, then she circulated and made sure everyone was making good progress. Satisfied with how well the class was catching on, she settled in with her own project. From across the room, Ages caught her eye and smiled.

The afternoon went quickly as Joss worked on Callum’s sweater. This felt almost like a mystical ritual. Now that she’d remembered her plan to make this, if she worked on it with enough devotion, the orderly loops and cables could keep him safe out there.

She stopped only long enough to perform at the club and then she went right back to work, knitting until her hands hurt, until her fingers felt like they might snap. With a groan, she finally took a break and studied what she had created. Right now, it didn’t look like much but sweaters took a fair amount of finishing. At least the yarn was soft and pretty, a lovely green that would look fantastic on Callum. That was why she’d randomly asked his favorite color.

Just thinking his name made her breath catch as feelings she’d suppressed all day long nearly overwhelmed her. Where are you right now? Are you safe? He must be exhausted and starving and frightened, but was the news even worse?

I’m doing as you asked, I am, but it’s so hard. I want to be where you are.

A tap sounded at the door, just the tears were about to overflow. “Come in,” she called. The door wasn’t locked. She only turned the bolt when Callum was in here with her, and she didn’t want to be interrupted.

Jere stepped inside with a sheet of paper. “I think I’ve deciphered this message correctly but I wanted to check with you.”

“Is it from Pru?” Joss raced over and snatched the page with such excitement that it veered toward rudeness. “Sorry, I’m just eager to see.”

“No worries. Just check my work?”

Skimming the message, Joss confirmed that Jere did indeed have the cipher memorized, reading the message aloud. “Spent days pleading. Called Alastor, Raff, and Thalia. Finally got results. Sending reinforcements. Need coordinates for safe passage.” Pru was most likely asking for the route to Burnt Amber because of the mines, but Callum desperately needed troops elsewhere.

When she realized that salvation was within reach, but she had no means of deploying the lifeline, she cursed as she never had in her life.

Callum hadn’t slept more than a few hours in days.

All his people were burned to the bone, and some couldn’t even hold bear form any longer. Their wounds weren’t healing either, a sure sign that they’d exhausted their resources. They’d lost a hundred of their own in hit and run strikes, Garven among them, but so far, the Gols hadn’t found their secret shelter at the hot spring. It was a beautiful place in the foothills of the mountains that rose to the north, rocky and bleak but also majestic with two natural pools. Callum feared it might also become a mass grave.

They’d just completed another successful raid and eaten enough raw fish from the river nearby to keep death at bay a little longer. We can’t last, he thought.

The ones who followed him had given everything to this fight, but they were outnumbered and the will to survive was waning in some of them. After days of privation, it wasn’t a weakness to want the hurting to stop. For the first time, he understood Win, on a level he never thought possible. It was nothing to do with love at all, in the end. Because he adored Joss with every fiber of his being, but the anguish of exhaustion, uncertainty, hunger, and fear of violent death had him nearly ready to end life on his own terms.

On this bleak note, he drifted off, curled up against stones warmed by the hot spring. That was his chief comfort, and Callum almost didn’t want to wake. Especially not when the dream began. He didn’t have the energy for a sexual fantasy, so when Joss came to him, he hugged her and closed his eyes, grateful to his mind for providing this much comfort. She smelled so clean, raspberries and lemon, warm skin with a whisper of soap, and her hair, it smelled like his own shampoo.

“Feels so good,” he whispered. “I’m so glad I got to see you one more time.”

To his surprise, she rapped on his forehead instead of snuggling against him. “No, listen. This is important. You have to tell me where you are. I’ve been trying to contact you for hours. I figured if we could share a sex dream, we could connect for other reasons too. Do you hear me?”

The dream-Joss seemed quite agitated, entirely insistent. Confused, he eased back to stare at her. “Are you…real? I mean, we’re truly talking?”

“Yes! This is critical, Callum. I need your location to send reinforcements. Pru came through, but it will take time for them to get there. So, I repeat, where the hell are you right now?”

On the off chance that this wasn’t a self-inflicted practical joke, enacted by the worst intersection of hope and his unconscious mind, he answered, “At the hot spring, twenty kilometers north of the factory. But we’ve taken losses, there are wounded without the wherewithal to heal and little food to be found. I don’t know if we can last until help arrives.”

“Then come home,” Joss ordered.

How he wished it was that simple. The pain of this admission nearly overwhelmed him. “If we retreat, they slaughter another settlement. Our presence is saving lives, even when we’re not fighting. Wish things could be different, love. We didn’t have nearly long enough together.”

I’m not the one who can lead others to victory. I’m no hero.

“Dammit, don’t you dare give up.”

“I’m so tired.” He didn’t know if he said or thought it, but they were sharing dream space and she knew, just how close he was to the breaking point.

Tears flooded her voice, trickled down her cheeks. Was Joss crying in her sleep? He longed to hold her for real.

“Whatever it takes, I need you to stay safe until reinforcements arrive. Promise me.”

“I won’t surrender, kit.” That wasn’t the same as pledging to stay safe, but that wasn’t a vow he could make under the circumstances.

When he moved to kiss her tear-stained cheeks, she evaporated, and he woke feeling more alert than he had in days, as if she’d transferred some of her energy. Callum spun in a slow circle, assessing the terrain. The hot spring was protected by a narrow approach, bubbling up out of the mountain. He knew of no other route unless the Gols came from above and they didn’t have air support. If the bears blocked the path, they could keep the Gols frustrated on the other side for a while. The meat they’d hunted wouldn’t last long, but if help didn’t arrive soon, it would be over anyway.

Am I really doing this?

Possibly they could keep up the hit and run strategy for a little longer, but the weary, spent soldiers who were now naked and helpless would be the first to die, and the Gols would take pleasure in obliterating them in payment for those the bears had killed.

I’m really doing this. I’m trusting in Joss. He’d said she was the only goddess he acknowledged, so it was fitting that they’d make their last stand based on words she spoke in a dream.

Listen up, he called. I’ve had a vision…and this is what we must do.

When he finished outlining his plan, at first there was only shocked silence. Then Trini said, you’re claiming the goddess told you we can win here?

That wasn’t exactly the case, but if they needed to believe that, so be it.

This is where we’re meant to make our last stand, he replied.

Which wasn’t entirely an answer.

I need your group working on those rocks. Start a landslide if you can and blockade the path. We finish the fight here. The Gols will think we’re cornered, but in fact, we’re luring them into a trap.

And we’re the bait, Emilia muttered.

But…they listened. En masse, they shoved at the cliffside and that many bears working in tandem? Boulders fell. More followed. Until there was an impressive rock barricade that wouldn’t permit anyone in or out without significant labor. Soon, the Gols would find their trail and they’d track them here. Callum was counting on that.

Once the blockade was built, he inspected the area thoroughly, even delving into the hotter of the two pools. Near the bottom, he found a hidden underwater cavern accessible only through the hot spring. After coming up for air, he took a deep breath and dove, paddling with all his strength through the tunnel. He emerged, fur dripping water, in a mysterious chamber that seemed to have been used for ritual purposes, so long ago that there were no metal tools. With awe, he padded around, examining bits of broken pottery and an obsidian blade. There was a stone altar, carved with sigils. His breath caught when he recognized ancient signs sacred to the goddess. That couldn’t be a coincidence. Deeper in, there was a complex warren full of bats, guano, and edible lichens. Past that, he found a freshwater pool full of cave fish, and those they could consume safely. He would send the weakest of his people, those who lacked the energy to shift, to rest and eat. The bats carried disease, but the lichens and fish could keep them alive.

Thank you. Callum had no idea whether he was addressing the goddess he had served as a monk or Joss, who had saved him in the dream. Maybe all women carried a spark of the divine.

By the time he emerged, the troops were gathered around the edge of the pool in fearful silence, possibly debating what they’d do if he drowned. Emilia huffed with relief when he padded out, wet but whole.

I found shelter. Food too, if you care to catch it or scrape it off the walls. Let the weakest among us go first. Help them swim through as needed. The rest of us will remain on watch.

The cliffs protect us, Trini said. Almost as well as the walls at Burnt Amber. I may be able to rig some rock traps that will trigger when the Gols approach.

It seemed unlikely that aid would get here before the enemy, as they had much farther to travel. They would need to weather a siege, somehow. But for the first time since he’d left the order, he felt suffused in peace that came from faith.

Do it if you can. For us, the war ends here, one way or another.

27.

Joss woke with tears drying on her cheeks, exhausted but elated.

She hardly had the energy to get dressed, like the dream had drained her. The exchange was worth it, if she’d truly managed to contact Callum. She had to operate as if it was, and once she had clothes on, she rushed to the conference room, mentally composing her response to Pru, who damn well better be waiting on standby. The battle is here. Coordinates follow. Rally here first, meet you there. Thanks, cousin. Quickly, she encoded the message and sent it, then she paced the room for half an hour.

At last the reply came. Understood. Eighteen hours. Can’t be there sooner. Others may arrive faster; some will take longer. No thanks needed. You would do the same for me.

It made sense that reinforcements would reach them in shifts, depending on the distance they had to cover. The wolves should be here first since they shared a border with Callum, a bit longer for Pru’s group, and even longer for Alastor, who must be coming from Hallowell. He had been mopping up pockets of resistance near the city from what she’d heard. Joss knew how long it took in a vehicle to get here from Daruvar, but she didn’t know where Raff and Thalia were now. If they’d relocated to Pine Ridge, they might get here first.

Mentally, she calculated. I need to leave in six hours to reach the rally point. Maybe they could all find the hot spring site on their own, but Joss memorized the map and she’d feel better if she was there, maybe not to fight, but to make sure those forces found Callum.

That day, she went about business as usual and touched base with Jere, filling them in on what was happening. She conducted the tailoring and the knitting circle for the second time, but when everyone filed out, she touched Agnes’s arm. “You’ll need to carry on without me tomorrow.”

“Are you going somewhere, dear?”

Joss nodded. “I’ll be back with Callum in a few days.”

Or not at all.

“Then take care of yourself. And him. He’s not an easy one to love.”

“Love doesn’t have to be easy,” Joss snapped.

Agnes only smiled. “And it rarely is. All things worth having are worth fighting for. But I believe you understand that quite well already.”

In a way, it felt like she was wrapping up her life at Burnt Amber. If gods forbid, she lost Callum, she’d never return here. And if she came back with him, their lives would be different in peacetime, a blessing she couldn’t believe in yet, though she wanted to. How would their days look? Their nights, she could picture in sweaty, glorious detail, and a flicker of arousal quivered through her.

This is not the time.

As her time ran down, Joss searched for Renna and found her entertaining the children with original stories. She waited until the other woman finished and then she asked, “May I hug you?”

Renna tilted her head, visibly startled. “What brought this on?”

“I’m leaving tonight. There’s something I need to do.”

Jere had suggested she keep the arrival of the other forces quiet because they feared that if something went wrong or the reinforcements were delayed, the dashing of raised hope would be more painful than an already wounded populace could bear. She agreed that it was better to announce a certain outcome later, when everyone could celebrate.

“Are you mad? It’s dangerous! And yes, you can hug me.”

“I’ll talk to Callum for you when I can. When he understands why you did that, he’ll be lenient, I’m sure. And we’ll help you save your family.” Big promises, ones she hoped she could keep.

“My issues don’t matter right now,” Renna said. “But I appreciate the thought. Just come back safe, okay?”

“Will do my best.”

Later, it took some smooth talking for her to get the guards to open the gate. Doubtless they thought she was unhinged, setting out alone at night on foot with only a small pack. After some debate, she’d decided it made sense for her to move in this form. Otherwise, the wolves and Eldritch wouldn’t be able to understand her if they arrived to find a bobcat waiting for them, and the Eldritch weren’t as casual about nudity as the Animari.

Traveling as a woman meant she was more vulnerable to attack. She couldn’t run as fast or dart up trees to hide. Joss allowed plenty of travel time and navigated the mine field with care, grateful that she had a good memory. She had traversed this zone once, and did so safely again, though she didn’t relax entirely until she reached the haven of the trees. Behind her, the churned earth revealed all too clearly how many battles had been fought outside Burnt Amber, how many mines were detonated by the Golgoth.

Joss moved carefully, constantly scanning for threats. While the main Gol force was hunting Callum’s army, there could be deserters looking for trouble. With acute senses, she avoided a few stragglers and hid until they passed. She’d always preferred stealth to open conflict. Shortly before the appointed hour, she reached the spot she’d selected for the rendezvous.

The site was open, plenty of space for vehicles and equidistant from factory and Burnt Amber. It wouldn’t take long to reach the hot spring from here in Rovers, but they probably wouldn’t have vehicles for all the ground troops. That meant an overland trek and would add to the arrival time.

Please, Callum, just hang on. We’re coming.

Joss lost track of how long she waited, but she ate some of the food in her pack and tensed when she heard engines. But they were Eldritch, not Golgoth make, and when Thalia swung out of the lead vehicle, she almost wept in relief. Raff followed close behind, along with a mix of wolf and Eldritch soldiers. It seemed like they had heavy equipment, too, including two aerial support units. She recognized Korin from Daruvar and a few others.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” Raff asked with a roguish smile.

But he didn’t flirt beyond that silly remark, and Joss noticed that he stayed close to Thalia’s side. “Waiting for the world to make sense again,” she said.

“It will soon,” Thalia promised. The Eldritch queen was cool and elegant in the moonlight, but her eyes held a fierce glitter as well, as if she was ready to impose logic forcibly on those who resisted.

A few hours later, the contingent from Ash Valley arrived, and Joss ran to Pru, who leapt out of the Rover and started calling her name. Dom was close behind, but Joss was too busy hugging her cousin to care. “Gods, I’m so glad to see you. It’s been…” Words failed her.

“I can imagine,” Pru said somberly. “I did everything short of evil magic to get this lot assembled.”

“She promised to make my life a living hell if we didn’t ride to your rescue. And the bears too, of course,” Dom added.

“I would have, too. This war has taken enough from us.”

“We’re here now. Things are a bit better in Ash Valley at last.”

“Because the bears have been fighting for you.” Joss fixed a sharp, angry stare on Dom, and he looked away first.

“We’re just waiting on Prince Alastor then?” Pru smoothed the moment over while giving Joss another hug.

She respected her cousin’s peacemaker tendencies or maybe she would’ve picked a fight with Dom. It seemed like everyone had been content to let the bears suffer until Pru stepped in and started yelling. Without the Pax Protocols, they had no legal obligation to render aid, but Joss gave no damns about that.

“It’ll be another half day at least,” Raff said. “We had word from him just before we left Pine Ridge.”

Ah, that was why they got here first.

Urgency clutched at her with icy hands; they didn’t know how weak and desperate Callum had been in the dream. “We can’t wait, we should move now. They have coordinates for the hot spring?”

For a moment nobody responded, then Thalia said, “We can’t defeat the main Gol force with our numbers alone. We need Alastor’s army.”

Later, provided that Callum survived the next twenty-four hours, he would insist that the order include this story among the other holy parables—the Miracle of the Fishes. Because those slow, lazy cave fish saved so many lives. Those who lacked the strength to shift cleaned them and sliced them thin, steamed them a little on the rocks heated by the spring. The bears ate them raw, until the hidden pond in the Goddess cave was nearly tapped. They scraped the lichens from the walls and fueled up for one last conflict.

They’re coming. They must be.

He helped Trini in building the traps on the cliffs that framed the pass, and it was tough, precarious work. Once, she slipped and he broke her fall with his body. She held on, breathing hard and refusing to look down.

“Don’t tell Emilia about this.”

Callum smiled and let go of her. “About what?”

Trini nodded like that was exactly what she wanted to hear. “We’re good now. Do you ever intend to tell us what you have planned? These rockfall platforms won’t do enough damage to win the day.”

“Wait and see,” was all he said.

As the day wore on, he started to get nervous. And his people grew restless as well. Distant noise indicated that the Gols were incoming, and though the boulders blocking the path would slow them down, they would either clear it or climb. The fight was inevitable.

The waiting was interminable.

Distant shouts reached him, threats and promises of gruesome death, but the Gols couldn’t get to them. Callum tried to rest, but as the enemy drew closer with no reinforcements in sight, his nerves screamed, and dread pooled in his gut. Maybe he’d just been dreaming, a hopeful hallucination, and he’d taken an abandoned worship site to mean more than it did.

We have a little time left.

Then the first boom rang out. Shit. They have explosives, maybe looted from the factory. These awful bastards.

“Get down,” Callum shouted, as the barricade went flying in stony shards.

Not entirely clear yet but with a few more blasts, the Gols would be on them. Resolutely, he turned to what was left of his army. “Shift if you can. If not, retreat to the caverns. The goddess will protect you in your time of need.” He turned to his hawk scout. “Take to the skies. Three cries if help is in sight.”

Only five volunteers slipped into the pool and dove. The rest became bears, with a few wolves and cats mixed in. Overhead, the great hawk soared, ignoring the enemy to scope out the longer view. Callum was among the last to shift, and he took position in front, determined to fight with the last of his power. The first wave of Gols crested the tumble of rocks and charged, all spines and talons and leathery plates. Though he knew damn well it was a pejorative, he understood why they had been dubbed demon-kin.

He hit the first enemy with his full strength and swiped. Tough hide, no good. Then, incredibly, three sharp cries rang out, over the din of battle.

Did he understand me correctly?

Then Callum saw them with his own eyes, air support coming in hot, two wolves in war machines. Wolves never fought alone. The rest would strike from the ground, hopefully soon, as his people would be overwhelmed in no time. A volley of shots hit the Gols trying to squeeze past the narrow gap they’d blown, and chunks of flesh flew. The smell of burning meant filled the air, and then there were Eldritch on the cliffs above, firing with deadly precision, raining death on the Gols.

The wolves and the Eldritch. They came. I didn’t dream it.

Like ferocious ghosts, the cats struck from the shadows, attack and retreat, slashing at the Gols, until they were practically assaulting each other in the confusion, unable to get a lock on the enemy. Callum powered through the Golgoth dragon-thing he was fighting, using his bulk to break bones that wouldn’t heal. As that foe fell, the thunder of thousands of boots rang through the pass, the heavy stomp of Golgoth warriors.

And not the ones they were fighting.

Fucking Prince Alastor too.

Somehow, his voice rang out over the racket. Ah, he was using an amplifier to cast his words. “My offer of clemency has expired. There will be no mercy for any of you. Now that you’ve proven yourselves to be the monsters that others rightly fear, I can offer nothing but a swift death.”

Then on some signal Callum didn’t catch, the rebel Gols slammed the attackers from behind, so many bodies that there was hardly room in the pass, and if the enemy tried to flee, they’d likely be cut down on the other side.

With so many others in the fray, he called, Fall back. Take no risks. Defend from this point on.

They fought in bursts with some Gols trying to take a few more bears with them to the afterlife, but mostly they tended their wounded while the battle raged just beyond the narrow pass. For hours, a united Numina—without Pax Protocols in place—fought the same enemy. The conflict raged through the night and onward until dawn.

Around first light, the last of the enemy fell, so many bodies that there was a mountain of them blocking the way. Those would have to be cleared before Callum’s people could get out or before aid could get in. The wolves dropped supplies via their war machines, packets of protein bars, and Callum could have kissed Korin when she pulled off her helmet.

“We’re working on a solution, but it may take a while to get you out of here. You bears sure do love your caves,” she joked.

Exhaustion and disbelief circulated among the survivors, as the Eldritch rappelled down from the cliffs, carrying more supplies. Grateful to be a man again, he donned the clothing they offered.

“It’s not humane but a few shots would reduce them to ash and then we can move out,” he said.

“Wouldn’t do much for air quality,” Korin noted, “but if you can stand passing through the death cloud that will linger, I’ll get Raff’s approval.”

“I’d appreciate a swift extraction. We’ve been here long enough.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Trini said.

He glanced around, seeking Emilia, because the two were never far apart. Thankfully he found her, checking on a wound that wasn’t healing as fast as it should. Exhaustion did that. Rest and food should take care of it, unless the man had contracted some rare bacteria that would require medical intervention.

As Korin gestured for space, he stepped back and she jetted straight up in a fiery burst. Trini gazed upward with a mix of wariness and admiration. “What do you suppose that’s like?”

He shrugged, feeling an ache at the movement all the way to his bones. “Don’t know. Don’t plan to find out.”

The wolves had built such things because even hunting as a pack, they couldn’t kill the Gols in numbers. It had been a long time since such weapons were needed but the Animari remembered the time before when war was a constant threat, and when they stopped heeding the stories, the bad days came again.

Dazed and dirty faced, his people washed up in the pools and then dressed in apparel provided by the Eldritch, simple drawstring pants and loose tunics, but better than standing around naked as the wolves incinerated the Gol bodies blocking the pass.

Soon enough, relatively speaking, Callum led the way back down the stony passage. Tension seeped out of him when he saw the full might of Alastor’s army gathered on the plain. Those numbers dwarfed what the combined Animari had fielded, and he shivered to think of the Gol prince ever turning his own forces against them.

But that would never happen. The woman sitting beside him was Animari, and she wouldn’t have chosen her mate without knowing what lay in his heart.

Alastor strode toward him and offered a deep bow. “I’m truly sorry it took me so long. We didn’t know the situation was so dire or we would’ve come sooner.”

This was Joss’s doing. She had no difficulty reaching out to people, but Callum wasn’t convinced anyone would’ve heeded his pleas, even if he’d made them. Her charisma and her ties to Ash Valley had made this miracle.

“You’re here now,” he said. “Let’s get to Burnt Amber and discuss the rest.”

28.

Joss wasn’t in the thick of the fighting—her strength lay in moving folks, not killing them—but in the aftermath, she searched for Callum everywhere.

If anything irrevocable had happened to him, she’d sense it. Their connection was real, but her heart wouldn’t stop racing until she found him, touched him. Finally, he came striding out of the ashes like a damn phoenix, disheveled and scowling and gaunt, so gaunt, especially around the eyes. While he spoke with Alastor, she drank him in.

And when he turned, she ran to him, leaping into his arms from two meters away. Without hesitation, he caught and spun her, lifting her entire body in the air before cradling her against his chest. His instant, instinctive response would never get old, fucking never.

“Missed you,” she whispered.

His dreamy hazel eyes, all gold and green shot like precious agate, crinkled at the edges, and up close, the tips of his lashes were even more bleached by the sun. “I can see that, kit. So can everyone else.”

“Are you protesting?” she asked.

“Hell no. I’m a free man and I can kiss you before the entire world if I want.”

As it turned out, he did want to, quite thoroughly, and with such urgency and finesse that Pru had to pull Joss away physically to get her attention. “I can see we have a lot to talk about,” her cousin said pointedly. “But now isn’t the time. Callum said something about moving out, and that’s a good idea. There’s a great deal that we need to decide before we go our separate ways.”

Dom nodded, slinging a possessive arm around Pru’s shoulder, like everyone didn’t already know the woman belonged to him. Joss made a face as he murmured, “Spot on, as ever.”

“We don’t need my entire force at Burnt Amber,” Alastor put in. “Nor do I imagine there’s room. And I collect that the exterior is currently a bit…inhospitable. Would anyone object if I sent them back to Hallowell? Sheyla and I will, of course, attend the conclave to confer about what comes next.”

“I’m fine with that,” Callum said.

Pru nodded. “We only need the leaders.”

“Excellent. Give me a moment, then perhaps we can catch a lift with the Eldritch. Do you think Thalia would be so inclined?” Alastor asked Sheyla, as they moved off together to consult with his second in command, an imposing Gol woman with a stern demeanor.

“We don’t have enough vehicles, and I won’t leave my people until we’re safe,” Callum said then. “Joss, go with the lead Rover. They’ll have to park a ways out, though, because there’s no safe passage wide enough for vehicles anymore.”

“Not very sociable,” Raff quipped.

Joss shot him a look of pure annoyance. If he knew what the bears had gone through, he wouldn’t be able to joke. Pine Ridge had certainly seen the least casualties of all the Numina. Gods knew how Thalia put up with Raff’s nonsense; Joss already wanted to kick him in the shins.

She stretched up to kiss Callum’s cheek, and he closed his eyes like the sensation was too lovely to resist. Then she whispered, “If you’re not home by tomorrow, I’ll come after you.”

“Wouldn’t want to make you cross with me,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Dom stared between them with exaggerated awe, then he stage-whispered to Pru, “She’s tamed the bear.”

On some level, it was good to see him playful again, but Joss still glared at her cousin’s mate as Callum aimed a lazy scowl in the other man’s direction. “What of it? You, of all people, know precisely how powerful a little cat can be.”

Dom glanced at Pru and said, “True enough.”

“Enough chatter!” Thalia called. “I’m sending our forces back to Pine Ridge as well. There’s room in our convoy if anyone needs transport to Burnt Amber. Leaving in five minutes.”

Joss kissed Callum once more, a promise of more to come, and then she hurried to the lead Eldritch vehicle. They’d need her guidance to know when to stop driving. She watched out the window until they left the combined armies behind, and then she settled into her seat with a sigh.

Thalia eyed her with a blend of curiosity and amusement. “You know, I proposed a marital alliance to Callum. He was second choice, after Alastor.”

A snicker burst out of Joss, as she slid a look at Raff. “And you’re fine with being her third pick?”

“She didn’t know me then,” he said easily. “And if I know her as well as I think, she’s curious how you managed to ‘tame the bear’ as Dom put it.”

“For one thing, I didn’t consider that he needed taming. Or changing. In the beginning, I just wanted to be his friend.”

“I understand,” said Thalia.

And Joss thought that maybe she did, at least in hindsight. Callum didn’t care about accruing personal power or gaining the most leverage among the Animari. If Thalia had approached him with that sort of alliance, of course he’d rejected the offer. Also, he was simply destined to be mine.

At heart, he had been a lonely person who had given up on the idea of connecting with other people. I can help him do that. I will. If I devote the rest of my life to interpreting Callum’s moods for other people and helping him understand what they want from him, I’ll consider it time well spent.

“Is the war truly over?” she asked then.

It was hard to believe, but so many Gols died. How could there be many more, even in Golgerra? Tycho Vega shouldn’t have more forces in reserve, right?

“Alastor will have a better sense of that,” Thalia answered. “But I’d be surprised if it’s not just cleaning up pockets of resistance here and there.”

“It won’t be over until we finish Tycho Vega,” Raff said, in the coldest voice Joss had ever heard from him.

“That would mean invading Golgerra. We’d become the aggressors.” Joss didn’t like the sound of that, but she wasn’t prepared to argue the point.

Maybe Raff was right, and they had to chop off Tycho Vega’s head or hang him or whatever you did to evil despots. A life spent immersed in music hadn’t exactly schooled her for such eventualities.

“That’s part of why we’re assembling at Burnt Amber,” Thalia said. “To discuss our next move. It was sheer serendipity that Pru harried us into action, but we can’t count on being so lucky again. Our next strike must be swift and decisive.”

“I suppose I thought Alastor would handle it. He’s leading the largest force and it’s his brother…” But isolationism had left the bears vulnerable. “No, you’re right. We need to work together. That’s the way we can rebuild trust and move forward.”

“You’re wise. I’m glad Callum has you as an advisor,” Thalia said.

Joss had never thought of it quite that way before, but with him leading Burnt Amber, it seemed likely that she’d be nudged into a capacity she had never anticipated. And she wouldn’t be a leader like Pru, constantly managing and organizing, but she was good at listening, good at getting to the heart of a problem.

“Maybe so.”

That seemed to end the conversation, and when she took a deep breath, she realized she was fucking exhausted. It would be hours before they got to Burnt Amber, even by Rover, so she leaned forward. “Wake me when we get to the edge of the forest near the hold. We won’t be able to drive from that point.”

The Eldritch nodded. “As you request, my lady.”

Their ways were so odd and archaic, but a little charming too. Grateful for the cat skill of being able to nap anywhere, Joss snuggled up and went to sleep. She woke at a nudge from Thalia and blinked hazily at the dark trees ahead.

“We’re already here?”

“Already, she says. We’ve been listening to you snore for hours,” Raff teased. “Quite adorable. A wee-pew sort of sound, wouldn’t you say?”

Thalia ignored his nonsense; she must be quite practiced at it. “We’ll wait for the rest of the convoy here, then you can lead us all at once.”

That made sense. She yawned and stretched, wishing she could wash her face and clean her teeth. It took perhaps another hour for the rest of their group to arrive, but soon Joss was guiding all the Animari leaders to safety.

As Alastor fell in behind her, he observed, “You know, this is a perfect opportunity for a coup. One hopes that my brother isn’t watching.”

Twenty-four hours after the great battle, Callum led his people home.

They had moved slowly, allowing for injuries and sporadic hunting. Sometimes, they just had to stop and rest, no matter how tempting the prospect of plentiful food and comfortable beds might be. But when the familiar forest appeared in the distance, a weak but heartfelt cheer rose up. He’d lost half of his army, but the war was won. There would be no more assaults on Burnt Amber. No more memorials after these services were spoken.

I’ll build a monument in the chapel garden and engrave all the names of those we lost. We’ll do the same when we rebuild Bright’s Landing.

Thinking of that ravaged settlement made him ache. But he couldn’t afford distraction. “Form up,” he called. “Single file, you know the drill.”

He wouldn’t be the incompetent ass who got his people killed by their own mines because he was mourning those who died. Thus, Callum chose his path with care that bordered on paranoia, and safe passage took another excruciating hour. Eventually, they stood outside the gates.

“Open up,” he shouted. “We won the war and we’re damn hungry.”

For some reason, Trini shot him an incredulous look, then she started laughing, maybe because he’d made it sound like they’d gone out on a whim and trounced the enemy on the way back from picking berries. Soon everyone had the chortles, and they were a merry, punch-drunk lot who stumbled in after what felt like ages in the field. He had lost track entirely of how long they’d been away.

Joss had a party waiting. As far as he was concerned, he only needed a single glimpse of her sweet, smiling face, and it felt like a bloody parade with a marching band, medals, and fireworks. But as always, she gave more than he’d expected, more than he could ever deserve. Shining like the sun, she came to meet them singing of brave heroes who defied the odds and came marching home again, hurrah, hurrah, and he almost broke down.

The knot grew to embarrassing proportions in his throat. How can this amazing, beautiful person only have eyes for me? To Callum, it made no sense, but she kept running to him, repeatedly. He always wanted this look in her eyes, that smile on her face. Imagine, I’m the one who put it there. With trembling arms, he reached for her when she sang the last note, mindless of the witnesses. She wrapped herself around him and he breathed in the scent of her, just like his dream. Raspberries, a hint of lemon, and yes, she was still using his shampoo.

This was the scent of home. Not Burnt Amber. Not the smell of tallow at the monastery, but Joss. Always, Joss.

Suddenly, he realized people were cheering, and he stepped back, conscious of heat in his cheeks. Hell, I hope I’m not blushing. Andar caught his eye from the back of the crowd; he’d chosen to stay with the abbot and minister to those who couldn’t fight. His friend smiled and signaled a blessing. Callum inclined his head, keeping one hand on Joss’s shoulder as if her admirers might steal her away. And yes, she still received longing looks from all quarters, but they didn’t press.

A little girl from Bright’s Landing darted forward to offer him a yellow flower, then she giggled shyly and ran away, hiding in her mother’s skirt. The entire feel of the hold was different, people smiling, flooded with sunshine. Apparently, the cooks had faith in his ability to procure more supplies, because they’d suspended rations and set out quite an opulent feast picnic-style. There were games to play, balls to toss about and music for those who had the energy to dance.

This is our victory celebration.

There was grief mixed amid the joy, people weeping for those who wouldn’t return. Garven’s cousin, the one who played the piano for Joss, bowed her head, tears streaming freely when she heard he had fallen in battle. The memorial services would come later. Today, people should be allowed to feel whatever they felt, sorrow or relief, some complex mixture of the two.

For his own part, Callum was so tired that he could collapse face-first in the dirt, but somehow, he found the energy to circulate and reassure everyone that Burnt Amber could rebound from this. The coffers were almost empty, though, and there wouldn’t be payment coming for the mines they hadn’t delivered.

Don’t worry about that. You’re alive. There’s a way.

He wasn’t good at small talk, but he found that if he moved through the crowd with Joss, she would smile and chat for the two of them, so he only had to nod and try not to look too fearsome.

At the end of an interminable hour—or ten?—he tugged on her hand. “Would it be rude if I said I need a moment alone with you?”

“Just the one?”

“Or a hundred. I could use a break, kit. And I’m sure I could use a wash.”

“You smell like a warrior,” she said diplomatically.

Callum laughed, a booming sound so unusual that it drew the eyes of everyone around them, some with expressions of startled amazement. I do have a sense of humor, he told them silently. You lot just aren’t funny.

“Enjoy the party,” Joss called. “Or retire if you prefer. We’ll hold the conclave tomorrow when everyone is fresh and rested.”

And nobody seemed to think it was even slightly odd that he followed her, docile as a lamb. She led him to the bathhouse first, thank the goddess. He had no supplies with him, but there were spare baskets of toiletries in stock for visitors and the occasional absent-minded bear. There was a private tub where they could bathe together, and he approved of her choice when she headed toward it.

“Will you wash my back, kit?”

“That’s an easy yes. At this point, there’s very little you could ask of me that I’d refuse,” Joss said with a melting look over her shoulder.

She undressed quickly, seeming to enjoy his admiring gaze, and he wasted no time in shucking the dirty tunic the Eldritch had given him. Serviceable it might have been, but he’d be glad to wear his own gear. Never again would he take such small comforts for granted.

“What if I asked you to stop singing?” Callum didn’t know why he was inquiring about that, as he had no intention of doing so.

“That’s the one thing,” she said. “I hope you’ll never make that request.”

“I wouldn’t, though part of me loathes watching others adore you. A small portion of me would like to hide you away from the rest of the world. It’s those obsessive tendencies I struggle with.” He slid in the pool and ducked his head beneath the water, coming up with a splash and a swirl of dripping wet hair.

“Keyword, struggle. I know what you’re worried about. That I’ll feel trapped like…” She paused, because he’d never told Joss Win’s name.

Quietly, he supplied it.

“Like Win. But I’ll tell you if you’re crowding me. I’ll ask for space if I need it. I truly believe we can be happy together, but you have to believe it too.”

“You’ve saved me so many times,” he said then. “In so many ways. Even when I didn’t think it was possible, you found a way. So even if I don’t think I’m good enough or even a wise choice for you to be making, I’ll stay with you, kit. For the joy of it and for the miracles, you see. I’m a faithful sort of man, after all.”

The water parted around her body as she moved through the pool toward him, and then she kissed him as if she would never let him go.

29.

Reluctantly, Joss broke the kiss, aware that she shouldn’t be too daring in a public bath.

Her heart pounded like tympani keeping time in an orchestra building to crescendo, and she just couldn’t get enough of looking at him. Broad shoulders, wide back, deep chest, every part of him was beautiful to her. She lathered up her hands and did what he’d teasingly requested of her, washing his back with great care. He leaned forward and let out a happy groan.

“I had no idea how this could end well. Turns out, I only needed you.”

There were others who deserved credit too, but she decided to bask in his appreciation rather than ruin the moment. With leisurely care, they washed each other all over, but those touches came from tenderness rather than sexual need. And that made the encounter even more precious because it proved that he wanted her all the time, with his heart, not just his body. Since Joss had always been desired rather than loved, she treasured the distinction.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

“Most definitely. Would you take offense if I went to bed this early?”

Joss shook her head, already climbing out of the tub. “Let’s go. I have clean sheets waiting.”

“Those might be the most alluring words anyone has ever spoken.”

“I can do better,” she promised, “but not today.”

They wore robes from the bathhouse since they hadn’t collected clean attire before washing up, but everyone was either asleep or at the party, so they didn’t pass anyone on the way home. Not that it would’ve bothered Joss.

Callum stumbled a little going up the stairs to their room and she steadied him with a hand on his back. He flashed a grateful look at her, and her heart warmed. Hard to believe that he once fled from me with such determination.

While she combed out her hair, he got into bed, not bothering with such niceties. Doubtless when he woke, he’d be even wilder looking than usual, but she rather enjoyed his unkempt monk style. When she came to bed a few minutes later, he was almost asleep, but he rolled toward her when her weight dipped the mattress and he settled her into his arms as if it was the most natural gesture in the world. How magical.

She wasn’t as exhausted as he was, but hell if she would pass up the opportunity to snuggle with him like this, body heat and bare skin and the luscious sound of his deep breathing. His arms were a heavy, welcome weight, anchoring her in a dream that she still feared could not possibly be true. Lightly, Joss stroked his back, keying notes down his spine in a silent lullaby.

In time, she drifted off as well. She must have been weary because she slept straight through and didn’t awaken until the next morning. Callum was already up and he had tea on. To her surprise, he’d also tidied up the sitting room—thank the gods she’d put away the sweater she was working on for him—and had collected breakfast from the caf. Boiled eggs, porridge, and pastries awaited, still not extensive fare, but better than they had been eating on rations.

Possibly in honor of the summit, his beard was freshly trimmed, and he’d twisted his wavy hair into a semblance of order. Joss found him wildly attractive regardless, but this was a good look for him too. Her gaze swept him from head to toe; he was dressed in his usual rugged gear, khaki pants with many pockets and a chunky sweater with white shirt beneath. His work boots waited by the door.

“You’re staring like you plan to have me instead of breakfast,” Callum said.

“If only we had time for that.”

“I could make time…”

“After the conclave,” she said firmly. “When we go back to bed, I don’t want to be bothered with responsibility for a while.”

“Then we’ll do our diligence and I’ll speak to Jere about taking some time off. Would you like to travel to Ash Valley to collect your things? I should probably speak to your mum as well.”

“And tell her what?” Joss teased.

“That I’ve stolen her daughter, I’m not sorry, and I won’t be giving her back.”

“Perhaps you could put it a bit nicer?”

Callum filled a plate and put it in her hands. “Eat up, love. I’ll think on the vernacular and try not to agitate your family, though with my personality, I suspect it’s best if I make no promises.”

After breakfast, they assembled in the conference room. Jere was already waiting with a full report of how they had managed in Callum’s absence. He skimmed the documents and handed them back. “I chose the right person as my second. You’re so organized that it makes me feel like a pile of unwashed socks.”

Jere let out a startled laugh, obviously amused by the analogy but also pleased by the compliment. “Thanks for noticing. There’s also some unexpected good news. Guess who arrived at Burnt Amber just before dawn?”

Joss couldn’t imagine. “Who?” she asked, as her mate had no patience with information doled out in drizzles. My mate. Just thinking the phrase sent a pleasant thrill through her.

“Your cousin and his family,” Jere said to Callum. “The night patrol found them in the forest, along with survivors from the factory. Apparently, Phelan was working the night of the attack, and Mimi took the children to have dinner with him. They took refuge with a few others there, until you instructed the manager, Martens, to vacate.”

“You must be so relieved,” Joss said, smiling.

But Callum’s expression was strange, not as openly jubilant as she expected. He was happy, of course, but it was laced with…fear? Then she realized why. The abbot had given him permission to leave the order because of the tragedy. Did that mean the fact that his family hadn’t perished invalidated the decision? The universe couldn’t be that cruel. This should be the happiest of occasions, not a potential obstacle between them.

Callum grasped her shoulders. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything keep me from you. This changes nothing. Or it shouldn’t.”

She forced a smile, trying not to let worry gnaw a hole inside her. “We can’t deal with it now. The others will be arriving soon.”

As if she’d summoned them with her words, Raff and Thalia entered first, followed by Dom and Pru. A few minutes later, Alastor and Sheyla arrived. Jere shut the door, as that encompassed all the key players. But Callum was distracted, and he didn’t open the dialogue, just glared into the middle distance.

What the hell. I’m better at talking anyway.

“First off, thank you for coming to our rescue,” she said.

Pru raised a brow at her use of the word ‘our’ but she smiled. “I’m sorry we let it go this long. We were focused on rebuilding and I lost track of how bad it was in the north.”

“We’ve had internal struggles as well,” Thalia said. “Not that it’s an excuse.”

Alastor added, “I’ll offer my apologies as well. I should have been more aggressive in combating threats outside of Hallowell. Apparently, I’m a bit territorial. Who knew?”

“I did,” Sheyla said.

“Not interested in regrets,” Callum cut in. “What’s done is done. We proved that we can cooperate without the Pax Protocols but it would be reassuring to have the old agreements in place. I’m not negotiating with any of you. I’m not giving you back any pastureland,” that, directed at Thalia, “And I don’t have the money to offer incentives. Here’s my offer. Sign the same damn terms that have been in place for a hundred years before this asinine war, then we can go about our business and only see each other if we want to or there’s trouble. Deal or no deal?”

Dom opened his mouth, maybe to protest the brusque treatment, but Pru elbowed him, hard. Joss stifled a smile. “Deal,” he said.

“This isn’t how I’d have conducted the meeting,” Thalia observed. “But I agree with everything that you said, and I suspect none of us want to drag this on. Do you agree, Raff?”

“If I argue, I’ll be sleeping alone, and I do so hate sleeping alone. Incentives would’ve been nice—I’ll sign,” he amended quickly.

That left only Alastor and Sheyla. The Golgoth prince glanced at his mate, who said, “I want to get back to my research. If you were planning to make peace, do it fast because I’m sick of traveling.”

“You don’t care if I do? Well, fortunately, I have no fascination for conquest. It’s so tedious and exhausting. Draw up the papers, same terms as before. I’ll sign.”

In just under an hour, Jere had fresh copies of the old Pax Protocols and without fanfare, everyone signed. When Callum handed her the pen, she eyed him with shock. He nudged her and she wrote her name with a flourish, beneath his, representing Burnt Amber.

There, surely the abbot can’t part us now. It’s written down like a promise.

As the meeting wound down, Callum couldn’t control his overwhelming fear.

Once, he’d wanted more than anything for the war to end. Then he could turn Burnt Amber over to Cousin Phelan and go back to his life at the monastery. Now, he was terrified of that happening. Of course, it was a fucking miracle that the whole family had survived, and he was glad, especially because of the children, but—

“Did you hear me?” Alastor asked.

“Not even slightly.”

The Golgoth prince laughed. “Your honesty is refreshing and delightful. I’ll reiterate my promise, then. This won’t truly be over until my brother is dead. And I swear to all of you that I’ll see it done.”

Seeming sharply alarmed, Sheyla clutched Alastor’s arm. “That means a personal challenge. You can’t—”

Delicately Alastor set a fingertip on her lips. Joss had bitten him when he did that, though she’d kissed it better afterward.

Apparently, some responses were common among cats because Sheyla reacted the same way. Alastor let her. Then he said, “Let me worry about that.”

“Do we need to worry about Tycho regrouping after this loss?” Thalia asked.

It was a good question, one Callum should’ve been posing. But his head was entirely scrambled. With half-attention, he waited for the answer.

“He’ll be raging, blaming others. But Golgerra simply doesn’t have more warriors to dedicate to this fruitless effort. It will mean riots and executions in the city, but the external threat is minimal now.”

“The beast is wounded. Now you must cut off his head,” Thalia said.

Alastor nodded. “An apt analogy but getting my forces inside will be no small matter. Golgerra is known to be virtually unassailable.”

Unexpectedly, Joss said, “I have a friend named Renna. She says her family is being held hostage there. Could you look for them?”

Callum glanced at her in surprise. Somehow, she already knew the people of Burnt Amber better than he did. This is part of why I can’t lose her.

“My brother has taken those I treasure as well. I will make every effort once I liberate the city,” Alastor promised.

Abruptly Callum stood, offering a terse nod. “I think we’re done here. Continue chatting if you wish. I’ve urgent matters to attend.”

First, he needed to hug his cousins and then he had to talk with the abbot. As he strode out, he heard Joss saying, “What he means is, thank you for being so efficient in ratifying the Pax Protocols. We’ll be in touch regarding trade agreements, as our production line is currently in flux.”

Someone laughed, but he really didn’t give a damn about this stuff right now. Relief and gratitude to the goddess welled up. No matter how this impacted him in the future, gladness rolled through him in a buoyant wave. He found his family in the cafeteria, and he hugged Phelan with all his might. Then he offered his hand to Mimi, but she embraced him like a long-lost brother. His small cousins clutched at his legs like he was a tree they might climb. Callum lifted them all at once, and soon he was covered, two dangling off his arms, one attached to his leg and another on his shoulders.

“That is a gratifying sight,” the abbot said.

Chilled by the old man’s tone, he turned with shoulders squared, ready to fight. “You don’t know how happy I am right now, more than I’ve been in years. And if you think my family being alive is an excuse to reverse your decision, let me tell you—I’m not coming back, no matter what. This is where I’m meant to be. I’ve chosen a life with Joss, and I love her so much that I’d probably die if I had to leave her. If you aim to interfere, just go ahead and kill me instead.”

His impassioned speech attracted an audience, much to his chagrin. When he finished, a smattering of applause broke out among the spectators. To his astonishment, the abbot guffawed, hunching with the force of his amusement. “You always did come out swinging, Callum. That aggression, we couldn’t entirely train out of you, and when you feel cornered you’re still doing it. It’s a miracle that your family survived, just like your victory over the invaders. You’re clearly touched by the goddess but you’re not meant to walk with us forever. I bless the path you’ve chosen and bid you good fortune. The order will withdraw from Burnt Amber presently, so you should say farewell to those you’ll miss.”

Callum had no idea what to say, as it seemed he had blown up like a volcano over essentially nothing. It was awkward when the abbot left and Phelan was outright snorting with laughter. “Never thought I’d hear the likes of that from you.”

“It was so romantic.” Mimi pretended to swoon, and he had no mind to put up with their nonsense, family or not.

“It was,” Joss agreed.

Oh damn. She heard that?

She went on, “But don’t you think you should’ve told me that you love me first? Instead of yelling your feelings at a room full of other people.” A soft laugh escaped her. “Though I will allow that it’s entirely on brand.”

“Probably,” he muttered.

She turned to Phelan, who resembled him in a ginger variant, scaled back in size. “I’m Joss Bristow, Callum’s mate. Though I’m a bobcat, I admit to an overwhelming fondness for bears.”

“You’ll fit right in,” Phelan said.

As ever, Joss eased his embarrassment by chatting easily with his family and she even sang some children’s songs with the little ones. The smallest burst into tears when Callum stole her away, but he ignored the plaintive walls. Cubs that age were always bellowing about something.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, tugging on his arm, hard.

“To bed.”

“And I have no say in that?”

“Of course you do.”

“Then slow down. There’s one thing you need to do first.”

Callum paused, trying to figure out what he’d missed. In all honesty, there were probably a lot of nuances that he overlooked. “What is it?”

“We’re calling my mother. She’s sent me forty messages since the wireless came back on, and if you’re on the vid call with me, she won’t yell at me too much.”

“You’re using me as a shield against your mother’s wrath?”

“Assuredly.”

Callum kissed the top of her head. “I’ll protect you, kit. From anyone, anywhere. If they want you, they come through me.”

Her breath caught, and her eyes went luminous. “Okay, now I want to drag you off to bed, but video chat first.”

Joss’s mother answered on the first beep, and he could see Joss in this woman’s features. She opened her mouth and closed it again when she realized Joss wasn’t alone. “Finally you call me,” was all she said.

“I’m so sorry. It’s been madness on this side. The wireless was off for security reasons. I’m not sure if you met Callum when he was in Ash Valley. Things were chaotic then. But…” Joss hurried her next words. “We’re mated and I’m moving to Burnt Amber. We’ll visit soon, once things settle down a bit.”

“Joss.” That was a warning tone if he’d ever heard one.

“I love you, Mom.”

“Isn’t he a monk?” Bethel Bristow demanded.

Joss grinned with far too much enthusiasm. “Not anymore!”

“Gods love us, you seduced a monk? You reckless, ridiculous—”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he interrupted. He’d promised to keep her mother from yelling at her, after all. “And Joss didn’t seduce me. I just couldn’t resist her. Now she’s the only goddess I worship.”

“Oh. Oh. I see. You…you’re both safe then? And happy??”

“We are,” Joss said. “We’ll talk more when we come to see you. And if you want to hit me for worrying you—”

“I won’t allow that. You can smack me instead.”

“Okay, I get it. I like him already,” Bethel said.

Eyes gleaming, Joss shot him a sizzling look. “Me too.”

“Call me when you two aren’t about to melt my screen.” With that, Joss’s mother cut the connection.

Callum took that as a sign and swung Joss into his arms. “We’ve taken care of all urgent issues, I told Jere to handle things for a while, and I’ve loudly declared my devotion. Can I have you now?”

30.

Joss could get used to Callum’s inclination to carry her like a princess. Snuggling close, she whispered, “You already do, but by all means, take me to bed.”

She smiled when he strode directly to their room without pausing. It wasn’t even noon, but she doubted they’d emerge for at least a day. Deliberately, he turned the bolt behind them and then he kissed her without putting her down. His strength was intoxicating, but she couldn’t get naked while he held her.

Callum put her on her feet long enough for her to rip her clothes off, and his came off that quickly as well. But when she moved toward the bedroom, he tugged her back with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“In here?” she asked.

“In that chair. Do you know how many times you sat on my lap there, and I couldn’t have you? I’ve imagined it so many times.”

“Then let’s make your fantasy come true.”

He shuddered a little as he sat down, his body fully on display for her to admire, and there was a lot to adore. His cock was hard, ruddy with desire, and gleaming at the tip. Joss settled onto his lap, remembering all the times he’d cuddled her here, just like this, but now they were naked, and it changed everything. She leaned in for a kiss, teasing at his lips with her tongue, and his shaft throbbed against her ass.

Callum caressed her back and shoulders, deepening the kiss, devouring her as if he could never get enough. When his lips shifted to her throat, she tipped her head back and his gentle/rough teeth sent pleasure-chills through her entire body, tightening her nipples. He noticed of course and palmed her breasts. Joss rested her head on his shoulder as the sensations built. She was already wet, and he discovered it when he slipped a hand between her thighs, massaging her lips with soft, lovely strokes. His touch made her feel urgent and languid at the same time, like she wanted to come, but she also wanted this to continue forever.

Joss squirmed on his lap, tension tightening her stomach as he teased between her lips and clit. The movements created soft friction, rubbing his cock along the curve of her ass. Her weight and pressure must feel good because he moved with her, grinding as she worked herself against his fingertips. He kissed her neck, her shoulders, plucked at the tips of her breasts, stroked her belly, and then back down, rhythmic touches that filled her entire body with music, a pleasure she’d only known before when she sang.

“Ready for me, love?”

“Always.”

At her whispered assent, he lifted her and sat her on his cock, still facing away. His hands settled on her waist and with effortless motions, he pressed her up and down, fucking her deep and slow. She tilted forward for better pressure where it felt best and moaned when he hit the sweet spot. At this angle, he could touch her everywhere as he thrust inside her. His big hands played over her breasts, he teased her clit and the softness of her inner thighs.

“Yes. Callum, yes.”

She was getting close, desperate and hungry, and helpless, reliant on him to level up the sensations, but he seemed in no hurry to let her finish, slowing his tempo when she tried to fuck faster. He couldn’t stop her from circling her hips, and when she clenched her internal muscles on his cock, he gasped in her ear.

“Stop trying to drive me over. I want this to last.”

“And I want to come.”

He bit her softly on the side of the neck and teased her clit. “Then come for me. Let me feel it. You’re almost there, aren’t you? So close it aches.”

Joss whimpered when he pulled his slick fingers away and licked them. “Damn you.”

When he repeated the touch, she did come, bright sparks bursting all over her body. He fucked her deep and slow through another orgasm. Her legs were jelly when Callum finished inside her with a guttural cry. Afterward, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much that sometimes I can’t believe this is real. You could’ve had anyone, yet you picked me.”

“Because I love you. I’m supposed to be with you. I know love at first sight is absurd, but I wanted you to be mine from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Trust me, I’m aware.”

“And it never changed, even when you got to know me?” That seemed to amaze him.

“That only increased my interest,” she admitted.

“I have no idea why.”

“Part of it is because you need me. I’m not that special, and I can’t do anything well except sing, but I feel…essential to you, like…” She hesitated, wondering if this was too cheesy to say aloud. Why not? “Like we complete one another, okay?”

Wildly embarrassed, she tried to hide her face in her hands, but he wouldn’t let her. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. It’s hard for me to fathom that I have any pieces that you lack, but you’re right. I do need you. Without you, I’m drifting. Everything is black and white and there’s no brightness. It’s a little hard to explain.”

“You don’t have to. Thanks for what you said to my mother, by the way.”

“Hm? Which thing?”

“About not letting her hit me. Offering to take my punishment. Nothing could’ve reassured her faster than that. And you defended me when she thought I was causing trouble.”

Callum said seriously, “I will always take your side.”

“No matter what? Even if I’m obviously wrong?”

He chuckled softly, a little gust of breath against her skin. “Even then.”

“To be honest, I don’t want to be indulged to that extent. But I feel warm knowing that you’re so in love with me.” Amusement overcame her when she remembered how he’d shouted at the abbot.

“Absolutely smitten, I believe that’s the word.”

Delighted, Joss kissed his ear and slipped off his lap to wash up. Sex was awesome, but the aftermath could be messy. Callum took his turn in the bathroom, and when he came out, she had her knitting basket out and was examining the half-finished sweater that didn’t currently look like much.

He raised a brow. “Have we been together long enough for me to bore you? It seems a bit soon for you to turn to arts and crafts. I’ve the energy to—”

“Stop.” She couldn’t breathe for laughing. “This is important, so try to keep from pouncing me for five minutes.”

“Easy for you to say. You weren’t celibate for fifteen years.”

“Callum.”

“Fine, I’m listening.”

“I started this sweater as a gift for you when I first arrived. As a thank-you for looking after me. I was hoping to have it done before I left, so it would’ve been a parting gift, a memento of the love that wasn’t meant to be.”

“I feel like crying, kit. Hope this story takes a brighter turn.”

She smiled up at him and got to her feet. “You know that it will. Now, this sweater is my promise to you, our hope for the future. Because I know myself, and I won’t complete it quickly. I’ll forget about it as I work on my music. Then I’ll knit feverishly for a bit, get inspired by another song, and wander off again. But I will never, ever abandon this project. Or you. And one day, you’ll be able to wear this, I swear. It will keep you warm when I can’t.”

“Joss.” His tone was so soft, so sweet. “I’ll always be waiting. If you get lost in your music and forget this world for a while, I won’t go anywhere. I’ll make sure you have hot food waiting and clean clothes to wear. And I’ll never begrudge you time spent doing what you love.”

“Music was my greatest love,” she whispered. “Until you. Now, you occupy equal space in my heart, and from this point on, every song I write, every song I sing, will be for you.”

His eyes went lambent with heat, and he plucked the half-finished sweater from her hands. depositing it with loving care in her basket. “We’re going back to bed now, right?”

“Absolutely.”

By nightfall, Callum bordered on dehydration and he was delirious with joy.

Maybe that was why he slipped out of bed and went looking for Pru. He hadn’t spoken to Joss’s cousin very much, but she ought to know what would make Joss happy. Since he’d flubbed the declaration of his feelings, he wanted to see whether Joss would enjoy a surprise announcement regarding their relationship. Since she was a performer, he thought maybe…but it seemed better not to screw this up. If a private proposal would be a better move, Pru would know.

But since officially, she would be leading Burnt Amber alongside him, his instincts said he should invite input. It hadn’t occurred to him to host those town forums until Joss brought it up, and it might piss everyone off if he didn’t involve them in this process. Or maybe not. Hell, he was bad at this, at dealing with people in general.

Callum found Pru in the quarters she shared with Dom, who thankfully was somewhere else. And when Pru heard what he wanted, her quizzical expression melted into excitement. “Absolutely! Joss will love a bit of spectacle, especially if it’s not normally your style.”

“As far as I’m concerned, we already said our vows privately. But I think she would like it if it was official, formalized by Burnt Amber’s blessing.”

Pru nodded. “If people are to accept her fully, that’s important. You’re their leader, but you should care how they feel, too.”

“Then what should we do?” he asked.

“Give me two hours,” she said. “Put on your best suit and meet me at the club where Joss has been performing.”

He blinked. Joss had said that her cousin was industrious, but this was another level entirely. Dominic Asher must get moved like a knight on a chessboard. Silently he gave thanks for Joss’s impulsive cheer and her whirlwind kindness.

Callum didn’t have any formal wear, as he’d worn monk regalia for such occasions, so he just put on his usual clothes. He turned up not knowing what to expect, but there was an audience assembled, speculating amongst themselves.

“I thought Joss wasn’t performing tonight, but I heard that there’s a special show. Do you think it’s victory-themed?”

Ah, so that’s the plan.

Quietly, he slipped backstage to await his cue, hoping Pru would make it obvious. He could hear the front filling up, and he couldn’t settle, pacing back and forth instead. Really, he should be dressed better, not in cargo pants and work boots. She loves you; it’ll be fine.

“Using my club to propose. I should charge you a premium,” Nayan said.

He turned. “Good luck with that. Monks take a vow of poverty, and the war left Burnt Amber finances a bit wretched.”

“I’m teasing, you lummox. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thanks but maybe hold that thought until I succeed.”

“Joss is wild about you. It’ll be fine,” the old woman predicted.

Nayan headed through the wings, and he heard her greeting patrons in a warm, velvety voice. Callum expected to be alone until the curtain went up, but someone else slipped backstage and found his hiding place. Renna. Damn, he still didn’t know how to treat her.

“Pru told me where to find you. I’m sorry for barging in but this can’t wait, and I won’t be a coward any longer. I shouldn’t have asked Joss to intercede.”

“What are you talking about?”

Renna took a deep breath and confessed. He listened with growing shock and anger, and when she finished, she drew her shoulders in as if he might throttle her. Callum sighed.

“I’m fucking furious, but not at you. In a situation like this, it’s more important to understand the reason behind a crime than it is to punish. Joss mentioned at the conclave that your family might be captive in Golgerra. Prince Alastor agreed to search for them, but he did say it wouldn’t be swift.”

“That’s it? I’m a thief!” She appeared oddly indignant, hands akimbo like she might fight him over this forgiveness.

“Then give back to the community. You seem to enjoy working with children, and there are many from Bright’s Landing who could use some extra attention.”

Tears brightened her eyes and she ducked her head, long hair tumbling to veil her face. “I see why she loves you. If Beren had been more like you, I would mourn him with all my heart.”

That addressed how Renna had felt about his uncle, poor old bear. “I was more like him than I’d prefer to admit, until I met Joss. She taught me how to be gentle, how to care about people.”

“She’s wonderful. I promise I’ll support her as the lady of Burnt Amber, whatever my word means. Oh! Pru sent me to tell you, when Joss starts singing “Dare to Dream”, you enter stage right. That’s where we are now, in case you didn’t know. Sorry again that I dumped this on you amid such a momentous occasion.”

“No, I’m glad that you felt comfortable enough to address it with me directly. Not many people have the courage. It’s like they think I’ll take their heads off.” And once, he might have done exactly that.

“I’ll pass it on that your bark is worse than your bite.”

“Maybe don’t spread it too far. I’m fine with people viewing me with a bit of a fearful respect.”

Renna laughed, finally shedding the invisible weight that he’d attributed to grief, but it must’ve been guilt. “You just want them to pester Joss instead. Good luck, Callum. Not that I think you need it. If ever I’ve witnessed two people who belong together, it’s you and Joss.”

From his hidden vantage, he heard the show begin and he imagined Joss being startled from a sound sleep with her cousin frantically reminding her that she was about to miss her own performance. The mental picture made him smile, and a few songs into her set, he recognized the opening lines of “Dare to Dream.”

You’re too good to be true

And I’m hopelessly falling for you

To touch forever, it truly seems

That we must only dare to dream.

This was his favorite among Joss’s originals, and it was fitting that she sang it with aching beauty as he stepped into the spotlight. Goddess but he felt awkward with the light shining in his eyes. He couldn’t see the audience, only Joss, sitting at the piano in that red dress that made her look so sexy that his heart threatened to explode every time she wore it.

Her voice faltered mid-note when she saw him and she was asking a thousand questions with her incredible eyes. He answered by dropping to his knees, not one but both, in the posture of a penitent monk, because he knew that pose best. Shit. I probably should have worked out what to say.

“Joss Bristow, in the company of these witnesses, will you formally agree to be mine and to lead Burnt Amber with me?”

“Yes!” Sheer joy radiated from her as she leapt up from the piano bench, and she came running at him, top speed.

Here, he knew precisely what to do because she made a career out of leaping before she looked. That was fine, because he would always catch her. And he did, firmly against his chest, and he kissed the hell out of her because that seemed the right way to end a proposal. Not that he had any experience in such matters.

Quietly, someone slipped a ring into his hand as they broke apart. Callum glanced over his shoulder to see Pru melting into the crowd. He took Joss’s hand and slipped the ring on, and her eyes widened.

“This belonged to my grandmother! How…?”

“I have my ways,” he said.

Callum had no notion why Pru was so well-prepared, but he decided then and there never to negotiate with Ash Valley. As a tactical planner, that woman would be ten steps ahead, ready to address any of his objections or demands.

Nayan had staff with drinks circling, and the show swiftly evolved into a party. They received congratulations in endless waves: Thalia and Raff, Alastor and Sheyla, Trini and Emilia, Phelan and his family. Even the abbot came to formally exalt their union. But he leveled a stern stare on Callum.

“You should hear the citizens talking. Miracle of the Fishes! They’re ready to sanctify you. It’s borderline heresy, I tell you.” But his twinkling gaze gave him away. “I wish you both great happiness.”

Andar came last, clasping him in a warm embrace. “I never saw this coming, but I’m glad for you. Though I can’t call you ‘brother’ anymore, I hope your children will address me as uncle.”

“That’s a deal if we have any,” Callum said with a glance at Joss.

She smiled and linked her arm through his. “We’ll talk about that eventually. More importantly, is there a recording studio here? Anyone who can produce for me or do I need to go to Hallowell? I was wondering, does it really get so cold that we use tunnels in the winter like burrowing creatures? We also need to talk about our housing situation because I’d really prefer—”

“I can see that I’m extraneous.” Andar slipped away while Joss was talking, and Callum watched his friend go with a sense of bittersweet inevitability.

For the new life to begin the old one must end.

He had no regrets. No matter how many times he walked this path, even if it cost his very soul, he would always choose Joss. Always. But as he gazed down at her, chattering brightly to someone new—such sweetness and spark—he believed with all his heart that the heavens had sent her. In a relatively short time, he had traded bleak obedience for breathless adoration.

And he would spend the rest of his days worshiping at the altar of her body, ever after eliciting the gift of her most secret music.

Author’s Note

I’m so thrilled that you read The War Priest and hope you’re eager for more in the Ars Numina world. The War Priest is the fifth book in a projected six-book series, as follows:

The Leopard King

The Demon Prince

The Wolf Lord

The Shadow Warrior

The War Priest

The Jaguar Knight

Would you like to know when the next book will be available and/or keep up with exciting news? Visit my website at www.annaguirre.com/contact and sign up for my newsletter. Follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/msannaguirre, or “like” my Facebook fan page at facebook.com/ann.aguirre for exclusive content, contests, and fun swag.

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