BBW ROMANCE: BWWM Romance: A Cowboy’s Southern Comfort (Military Cowboy Pregnancy Romance) (Interracial Army Contemporary Fantasy Romance Short Stories) (27 page)

***

Ivar had, predictably, not believed her excuse for her manic chase through the forest at all. But being the determined personality she was, there was nothing Ivar could do to make her admit the truth. Though Moira hated to strain her closest friendship like this, what had happened could never be made known to anyone. Not only would she be humiliated and dismissed from her rank, but Moira could face exile or even execution for fraternizing with the enemy.

What was I thinking? She
asked herself, putting her head in her hands.
  How could I ever do such a thing to my clan? It was the ale I drank last night. It had to be. And my injuries from the fall. That can be the only explanation. Oh, if Ivar ever finds out I think I’ll- No, I can’t think about it.

But what was she going to do about tonight? Although the idea of capturing Artair to make up for her misdeeds had crossed her mind several times throughout the sleepless night, Moira would be unable to explain how she had gathered the information in the first place. Not to mention the likely possibility that he would squeal on her about their kiss… And though Moira did not believe they would take his word at face value, she could not afford the suspicion.

No, I’ll have to face him myself
, she decided, her stomach feeling heavy with despair.
I can’t let this go on any further.
But even as she stood resolute, Moira was unnerved at the memory of he had made her feel. She had never been infatuated with someone before. And despite what others in the village thought, she had never kissed a man before. Not even Ivar.

Ivar…
Though Moira was inexperienced in matters of love, she was not a fool. She could see he had affection for her, but the truth was that she thought of him as a brother. He had been one of the few stable people in her life, her family. And although he was what people considered to be handsome, Moira knew that she could never see him like that.

With her mind buzzing like a swarm of angry bees, Moira did her best to stay hidden in the house until her patrol at dusk. Feigning sickness from drinking was not easy, especially as Ivar’s eyes seemed to pierce through her soul when he stopped by.

“Are you sure you are alright, Moira?” he asked suspiciously. “After all, you did stay in bed all day.”

“No, I’m quite fine,” she replied, her voice a bit too shaky for her liking. “I just needed to rest. Erskina’s orders.”

Ivar raised his brow but said nothing.

Moira felt a bead of sweat travel down her back as they continued on the forest trail. She needed to lose him before they arrived at the meeting place. But with all of his skeptical talk so far, Moira was at a complete loss as to how to accomplish this. As they neared a fork in the trail however, she got an idea.

Making sure that his back was turned, she shot an arrow into dead branch on the right path.

“What was that?” Ivar asked.

Moira shrugged. “I didn’t hear anything. You probably imagined it.”

Ivar’s eyebrows furrowed. “I know I heard something. It came from over there.”

She rolled her eyes. “It was probably a fallen branch, Ivar,” Moira said dryly. “You shouldn’t be spooked by everything you believe you hear.”

As predicted, Ivar turned stubborn. “I know I heard something, Moira.”

“Well, I’m not going to waste any time on it,” she stated, rolling her eyes. “I have actual danger to patrol for.”

“Fine then,” Ivar said indignantly. “I’ll see to it myself.”

Moira sighed. “Fine. I’ll be at the Badger’s Grove looking for intruders.”

With a final nod, Ivar then headed into the thick patch of trees. And as soon as he was out of her sight, Moira ran off as fast as she would. All she could do was hope that he believed her. The grove she spoke of was a maze-like part of the forest that lay opposite to her true destination. If everything went according to plan, Ivar would not catch on to anything.

***

Moira walked the final steps of her journey in depression, and as she saw the empty ledge, she was slightly relieved.
Maybe he had just been lying. Perhaps it was a distraction to infiltrate another area. I’m such a fool. And now Ivar is-

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as two strong arms lifted her into the air.

“Surprised that I actually came?” Artair asked flippantly.

“Put me down you fool!” Moira whispered harshly, giving him a punch to the gut as he did. “What are you made of?!” she asked angrily, rubbing her now throbbing fist.

Artair shrugged. “Nothing too astonishing.”

Moira rolled her eyes. “I need you to answer some questions,
Artair
,” she demanded, uttering his name like a curse word.

“Of course,” he replied.               Grinning, he then added, “On one condition.”

“What?”

“You have to kiss me for every answer I give.”

The young warrior stepped back in disgust. “Ugh… I’d rather kiss a toad.”

“Fine. Then I suppose you can gather important strategic information about the upcoming attack on your own.”

Moira crossed her arms. “Why would you betray your clan so easily?”

Artair’s eyes darkened as he looked at the horizon. “I have my reasons. Believe me when I say I’d love nothing more than to see Pádruig Fòlais’ head fall off his shoulders.”

She was stunned by his seemingly genuine hatred. Then again, from what she had heard about the way his clan was run, Moira supposed that it would make sense for at least one individual to want him overthrown.

“Fine,” Moira said. “I’ll do it.”

A look of surprise fleeted across his tanned face, but quickly returned to its usually arrogant smile. “Alright, what is your first question?”

“When is your clan planning to attack ours?”

“In two days just after sunrise.”

Moira then stepped up to kiss him, but was met with nothing but air. Opening her eyes, she said, “Well?”

“I don’t want you to do it out of obligation,” he replied, looking away in mock arrogance.

Her face growing hot from anger, she then wrapped her arms around his neck as she placed her lips on his. Stepping back, she said, “A Beinn Nibheis does not go back on their word, heathen. Now answer me this: where is your army going to enter?”

Still a bit distracted by the kiss, Artair answered, “Several areas, Wulf Pass, Blackbird River, and the Twisting Ravine. I would tell you the exact times, but-“

Before he could finish his sentence, Artair felt Moira kiss him again. Her hands were traveling down his back, as if trying to grab every part of his being.

After his mouth was finally released, they both caught a breath. He then said, “I don’t believe that was proportionate to the amount of information I gave you.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Moira replied.

Artair did as he was told.

What had started off as a professional exchange had now quickly devolved into a wild competition of passion. Moira did not know what was more horrifying; the fact that she was doing this to an enemy or that fact that she no longer cared. The only thing she did know was that she did not want this to stop.

While their mouths were busy exploring each others with feral veracity, their hands were slowly feeling their bodies. It was not until a cool breeze traveled across her bare breasts that Moira realized she was no longer covered. Her hair was also no longer contained in a braid, but was splayed out like a flame. Artair’s flimsy vest had also been discarded.

All that was left for them to do was complete the last wish their lustful hearts wanted. Artair, unashamed of his desire, bared himself easily. While it was not the first time she had seen a man’s member, it was the first she had seen it so… erect.

Is that supposed to fit inside me?
Moira was frightened at the prospect, but like with all the other challenges she had encountered in her life, she was ready to face it. With hands that were slightly trembling, she removed her own remaining skirt and leggings.

Her back on the hard rock of the cliff, Moira braced herself for any pain she may endure. Erskina had explained such things, though she had always been too disgusted to listen properly.

“Moira…” Artair said, now crouching over her. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

A shiver flooded through her body as she felt his fingers brush against her sensitive flesh. She could feel her face growing red as the sun as they explored her small opening. As if satisfied with something, he then moved his hips closer to her.

Moira clasped her hands on his arms as he finally placed it inside her. She knew it was only the tip of his manhood, but it did not make the stretching sensation any easier to bear. As if to comfort her, he began to kiss her tenderly as he moved his hips further and further. And it seemed to work. By the time the full length was thrusting inside her, Moira was only able to crave more and more of the pleasure she was feeling now. She could also feel something building in both of them, a sensation that she could not quite name.

Artair could sense this as well, and as it grew closer and closer to its climax, he said in a low grumble, “I think I love you, Moira the Bear Slayer.”

Moira tried to give a response, but her voice was stolen by a strong moan. It was so guttural and animalistic that she felt slight shame in it. However, Artair only kissed her harder as he cupped her breasts.

As they became still, panting heavily from the exertion, Moira suddenly remembered Ivar. She tried to stand up, but her arm was grabbed by Artair.

“No, right now you belong to me,” he said, his expression appearing to know her thoughts. “And I to you.”

She contemplated that statement for a while and then lay back onto Artair’s bare chest. And while they were completely exposed, Moira was overcome with the strongest sense of safety she had ever felt before. In that moment, there was nothing that could harm her.

***

Doire grinned wickedly as he leaned against a tree. “It was as I told you, Griogal. Your friend is just a traitorous whore. As is mine.”

Ivar had not wanted to believe his captor; he had fought and resisted the shifter with everything he had in his bones. But as he stood there, looking at the bare flesh of his comrade and enemy, Ivar could no longer deny it. And despite his best efforts to hide them, his eyes became filled with scalding tears.

After discovering Artair’s affair with the Beinn Nibheis woman, the slender bear warrior had gone for a long thoughtful hike in the woods. Not because he was conflicted on whether or not to have him arrested, but on how to make this the most profitable for himself. In the midst of these thoughts, he had come across an exhausted man lost in the forest labyrinth.

While his animal instincts had wanted to kill the boy immediately, Doire’s penchant for spotting potential weakness won out. And as always, he was correct. Though he had merely thought the woman was the man’s companion, Doire had been pleasantly surprised to see that Ivar’s desires were far greater.

Slamming his fist into the trunk of a tree, Ivar turned towards the shifter. “Does you offer still stand then?”

“Of course,” Doire said, his teeth glinting in the moonlight. “As long as you cooperate your family and friends will be safe in the upcoming invasion.”

Ivar nodded. With a final look at the two sleeping traitors, he headed back to the village in order to prepare for their plan at dawn.

As the bear warrior watched the man leave, he wondered if the fool would actually go through with it once morning arrived. However, with the amount of hatred he had seen in the man’s eyes, he was sure that Ivar would not disappoint him. Doire almost felt a bit of guilt for his future betrayal, but all was fair in love and war.

***

Moira awoke to the sounds of a twig snapping nearby. Shocked, she realized that it was now morning, and by the position of the sun it was already a few hours past sunrise.
Erskina must be worried out of her mind… I have to hurry back and take those infertility herbs now… And Artair…
“Artair,” she said aloud, now realizing that he was nowhere to be seen.

She quickly put on her clothes as she looked around the area.
Of course,
she thought, kicking a nearby stone.
He left me here after getting what he wanted. How could I be so stupid as to think he would actually care about me?

Dejected, Moira stared off the edge of the cliff until she heard the cries of a familiar voice from the forest. “Ivar?”

Rushing towards the now frantic screams of horror, Moira reached for her dagger only to discover it was missing.
And he left me without a weapon. The bastard.
But there was no time to hesitate; she needed to save her friend. As she jumped through the last line of trees, Moira nearly fell on her back in shock.

It was a bear, a massive one. And though it looked a bit thinner than last time, the intelligence she saw in those eyes convinced her it was the creature that had first alluded her days ago. She also found it curious that it wore an orange piece of material on one of its legs. On it was the symbol of the Fòlais, a bear paw.

Could it be? A Bear Warrior? I thought those were just a myth the Fòlais told to frighten their enemies. But if it’s true then…
Her surprise rapidly shifted to rage as she saw Ivar’s torn cloak in its paws.
Ivar…

As if in a nightmare again, her mind flashed images of her fallen parents as she had remained helpless to stop them. Her eyes now filled with hot tears, she grabbed a nearby branch she threw it at the beast. Though the blow seemed to do nothing to it, it still roared and then charged at her. Waiting until the last possible moment, she dodged the attack, making it smack headfirst into the trunk of a tree.

However, it looked as if the only damage done was to the now splintered bark. Shaking its head, the bear lunged at her again. As she tried to move out of the way again, Moira’s sprained ankle suddenly decided to fail her.  Landing hard on her back, the young woman could only scream as its jaws headed straight for her head.

“Get away from her, monster!” she heard a man yell, as an arrow grazed the bear’s face. Ivar then came between her and the beast, shouting, “Or I swear I will end you!”

The bear threatened to charge at him, but another arrow through his shoulder appeared to drive him away. With one final growl, the creature retreated into the brush.

“Are you alright, Moira?” Ivar asked, giving her a hand up.

“Thanks to you,” she replied, dragging him into a tight embrace. “Ivar, I’m so glad to see that you are alive. When I saw that bear with your cloak, I nearly…” Moira stopped herself as her voice became cracked.

Ivar placed a hand on her cheek, giving her a small smile. “I’m fine, Moira. I wouldn’t let a bear get me that easily.”

Looking down in embarrassment at displaying her emotions so openly, she noticed her bow strapped to his hip. “Is that mine?”

“Yes. I found it in the woods earlier. I was so worried that something might have happened to you. Especially since you disappeared last night.”

“Oh, about that-“

He waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter, Moira. But…” he said, handing her the weapon. “I doubt you would want to let that bear get away with this.”

She smiled as she grabbed it eagerly. “You know me too well. Let’s go.”

Artair awoke with his head pounding furiously. As his blurry vision tried to determine where he was, he realized that he was still nude. All except for the orange band on his arm. It was a ceremonial piece hidden away in his chest at home. How did he have it now?

Rising up, he tried to ignore the growing nausea in his stomach. This felt worse than time than he had drank an entire barrel of ale. Had he been poisoned? As he stumbled throughout the brush, Artair eventually came across two others: Moira and Ivar.

“You… You’re….” Moira stuttered, her mind unable to comprehend what was happening. “You’re a Bear Warrior…”

“M-Moira…” he groaned. “I can explain…”

As he tried to move closer, both of them readied their bows to fire.

“Don’t come any closer… you… you… monster…” Moira replied, her bloodshot eyes threatening to spill into tears. “How could you… You tried to kill Ivar… and then me…”

“No… I could never…” Artair said, still struggling to remain standing. “Please… believe me…”

The young huntress closed her eyes as she pulled the string on her bow. But before she could release it, Moira fell to her knees and began to sob.
I can’t do it. I can’t kill him.

As Artair began to come near to comfort her, Ivar yelled, “Get away from her you creature!” But as he began to shoot his arrow, two masked men in Fòlais gear knocked him to the ground.

The then did the same to Artair, who they carried off swiftly into the deepest part of the forest. Even as he began to lose consciousness, she could hear him call, “Moira!”

Biting down on her lip, she mustered up the strength to rise and carry Ivar back to the village. All the while, Moira felt her heart crumble ever further with each step.

***

“Artair Ualas,” Pádruig Fòlais voice boomed in the silent building. “You have been accused of high treason and conspiring with the enemy. How do you plead?”

“Guilty, High Chief,” he responded, his expression stoic. “Of all accusations.”

“Due to the severity of this crime, your punishment is execution. And though the proper atonement would be burning at the stake, I am deciding to reward your honesty with a swift death by beheading.”

Artair merely nodded, feeling too numb to properly care.
She thinks I’m a monster…

“Please, High Chief,” he heard his uncle cry. “I move to suggest exile.”

“Lyall Preas, though I honor your family’s contributions to the war, I cannot allow for a traitor to live,” Fòlais said, his face unmoving. “Now be silent, or face a punishment yourself.”

“I beg of you, High Chief,” Lyall said, falling to the ground. “At least allow me to spend one last evening with my nephew. He is the only family I have left.”

Fòlais rubbed his chin in thoughtfulness, before turning to his council. The group muttered to themselves before one nodded their head. Rising from his chair, he said, “Very well, Preas. I will delay the execution until tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, High Chief,” Lyall said, rushing to his nephew’s side. “I will see you tonight, Artair!”

The young warrior said nothing as he was led to a small, guarded hut. As far as he was concerned, the execution was preferable to having to spend the rest of his life in exile. There was nowhere he wanted to be other than in Moira’s presence.

***

Moira pretended not to notice the stares she received as she prepared for the battle ahead. Despite the information she had gathered, many were skeptical of the way she had obtained it. The chief, however, had been more than willing to take it at face value – especially when she and Ivar mentioned that the Fòlais clan had Bear Warriors on their side.