Motivation (Shifters Forever After# 3) (4 page)

S
leepless
.

That summed up Fiona’s night. She got up with the first rays of sunshine and sat in a chair, looking out the window. Her room was at the back of the mansion, overseeing the thick, impenetrable woods.

Would this be her view for her remaining days? Would she be subservient to Ilse’s demands and orders?

Her eyes burned, a combination of fatigue and tears of anger and helplessness.

This was never a choice she thought she’d have to make, between her falcon and her mate—former mate, she reminded herself.

Who am I kidding? He’ll always be my mate, even if we aren’t together.

A knock at the door made her leap out of the chair.

“Time for breakfast.” It was one of the lesser witches’ voice. Fiona wasn’t sure but she thought her name was Annie or maybe Victoria.

“Breakfast’s not for another two hours, I thought?”

“Schedule change because of today’s events. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

Seems no one tells me jack.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Hair, teeth, deodorant, a quick change of clothes, and Fiona was downstairs in twelve minutes.

The line for breakfast had dwindled, most were sitting and eating.

She grabbed an oatmeal, muffin, orange juice, and a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table closest to the back

A podium and a microphone had been pulled to a central position at the front of the room. Ilse flicked the mic with a red-tipped nail.

The clicking sound came across loud and clear. Her second-in-command, an equally tall, equally lean dark-haired witch nodded and mouthed, “It works.”

“Good morning, Northfork.”

Voices murmured a “Good morning” in return.

“I’m thrilled we are initiating our two hundred and twenty-eighth class today. Initiates, please rise.”

Fiona took another bite.

Shit.

She tried to swallow the oatmeal, but it formed an unmovable lump.

Nine women stood.

Ilse’s index finger counted them. She frowned.

Fiona swallowed hard again and rose slowly.

Ilse made another show of counting.
Ten.

She smiled her tight-lipped, carrot-up-her-ass smile.

“After breakfast, you’ll find your gowns in your assigned boxes. Put them on over your clothing and meet us here in two hours, promptly, at…” She glanced at a silver watch. “Nine.”

Her head snapped toward Fiona.

“Except Rathmore. You’ll be here in an hour. That should give us plenty of time to wrap up with you in preparation.” Ilse stepped away from the podium and resumed her seat at the major witches’ table.

After breakfast, Fiona grabbed a cardboard container from her assigned box and hustled to her room.

She’d change but she needed to talk to Ilse. There was no way in hell she’d agree to give up her falcon. She wouldn’t let her falcon’s soul wither and die.

Changed and ready to go, she glanced at the analog clock on the nightstand. She still had plenty of time.

A soft knock sounded at her door.

Fiona pulled it open.

Alannah. And she didn’t look well. She looked concerned, maybe even upset.

“What are you doing?”

“The Belthunes have a pact with the Rathmores. It surpasses all other alliances.”

What’s that supposed to mean, anyway?
“Um… ohhh-kaaay.”

“Just remember that today. In case.”

“In case what?”

A rap at the door, then it opened, without anyone waiting for a response or permission.

Fiona frowned at the interruption.

Ilse entered, a grimace appeared on her face when she noticed Alannah there. “I hope you’re not interfering.”

“I know my duty,” Alannah pushed her way past Ilse’s second-in-command and turned the corner, out of sight.

“I thought I was to come downstairs,” Fiona began.

“We’re taking the back staircase. Follow.”

Ilse and her second led the way down the hallway to the other side of the building where she unlocked the door with a key she pulled from her pocket.

Fiona tried to get a look at it, could have sworn it had a skull on it, but before she could ascertain, Ilse slipped it back in her pocket and opened the doorway to a dark staircase.

Without speaking a word they took the stairs down both flights. Expecting a door, Fiona was surprised to find another staircase.

This led below ground. They went the equivalent of one flight down, then up a slowly inclining ramp in a tunnel.

Fiona was burning to ask where they were going, but she let her falcon’s sense take over and waited for them to speak first.

At the end of the long tunnel, Ilse’s second opened a door.

Fiona stepped out. Behind her, the door was carved into a monstrous tree with vines and roots growing in such a way to almost make the door blend into the tree’s trunk.

In front of her, a mist rose knee high in a clearing completely surrounded by trees.

Ilse turned to face her. “Your falcon. You will have to put it aside.”

She didn’t even pretend not to know what Ilse meant. “I can’t. I am my falcon.”

“That’s the only way. We need your full allegiance. Your falcon makes your faithfulness questionable.”

“I can’t live without her.”
She can’t live without me.

“You realize what you’re saying. You’re willing to choose your falcon over Jonah Romanoff.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“You are not complying.” Ilse’s eyes glowed red, her already pale face turned ghost white.

Her second’s eyes changed, matching Ilse’s.

In their right hands, each held up a wand with a claw on the end.

A wailing sound came from Ilse. Her second began to chant.

Fiona felt a tug on her brain, the tug became a searing scorching pain that tore into her mind.

Her falcon screeched.

The sound of tearing filled Fiona’s head.

What are they doing?

Fiona opened her mind to protest the magic they were using to pull her falcon out.

No words came out. Instead her falcon’s screech left her mind and flowed through her lips, piercing the forest’s noises, eclipsing Ilse and her second’s wailing and chants.

A crunching sound, a horrifying tearing, a stinging sensation, and within seconds, Fiona was in her falcon, no longer in her human skin.

Her falcon took wing, rose, was a few feet off the ground when a jolt rammed into her body, penetrating and painful. She lost her balance and became disoriented, wings fluttering. She tried to clear her mind, tried to resume her course upward, seeking refuge first in the sky, then over the trees.

She failed, collapsed, falling to the ground with a crash landing that left her wing crumpled in such a way she knew it was unusable.

She had greater issues as Ilse and her second stalked her way.

“If you won’t join us, I won’t have you sabotaging our efforts.” Ilse’s voice breached Fiona’s pain.

Fiona backed up slowly and called for a shift. Her falcon ignored her requests.

Fiona demanded a shift. Her falcon still ignored her, backing up, picking her way among twigs and grass.

A roar rocked the forest bringing everything to a halt.

Another roar joined the first one, similar yet different.

And another.

And another.

J
onah roared
at the sight of his mate, fallen, wing twisted, her falcon in severe pain, being stalked by two black-clad, tall, lanky witches.

His roar brought the forest and the action between the witches to a halt. Next to Jonah, his brothers Isaac and Ky and his uncle Mikhail roared. All were in their polar bear forms. All on their hind legs, towering at the edge of the clearing.

Behind the males, Cadence, Carina, and Laken stood, in human form, ready to back up their mates and family.

Ilse and her second froze and took stock of the change in dynamics.

Fiona stumbled in their direction, her wing dragging the ground.

Jonah pushed for a sync with her. A sync would form that link which allowed shifters in their animal forms to communicate with each other in their minds.

Fiona accepted the link, her falcon’s eyes wide in pain.

Jonah!

Fury ran through Jonah at the sound of pain in his mate’s voice.

Are you okay?

I can’t shift to my human. My falcon isn’t permitting it.

We’ll take care of that later. Come close.

Fiona made her way toward the bears, giving the two witches plenty of berth.

Ilse scoffed. “Shifters. What can shifters do against two witches?”

Jonah shifted into his human, an act he performed quickly and with little discomfort. “We brought our own witch.”

Alannah stepped out from behind the bears.

“You!” Ilse scowled. “You are betraying the coven?”

“I have a higher commitment to honor.”

“What can be higher than the coven?”

“The pact between the Rathmore and the Belthune.”

“What pact?”

“It is not for your ears.”

“You are on Northfork Coven property,” Ilse told Jonah.

Mikhail Romanoff shifted into his human. “You are in Romanoff
territory
.” He stepped forward. “I have a battery of my security team, all shifters plus two witches, just outside the perimeter of your fence line, waiting to come in and torch the building, and with it all witches who choose the wrong side.”

“You cannot do that.” Ilse’s second stammered the words out.

“Long before you were here, the Northfork Coven agreed to peace with the Romanoffs, formed with a few mutual agreements based on respect. You’ve breached those.”

“You cannot dictate our policy,” Ilse said, but took a step back.

“Try me.” Mikhail’s tone was resolute.

“This isn’t the last you’ve heard of me, shifter.”

“You should make sure it is. Any noise, any issues, I’ll know exactly where to look.”

Mikhail turned his back on her, she was a non-issue.

Ilse turned to Alannah. “You will pay for your betrayal.” She pulled a 180 and left the clearing, heading toward a tree covered with vines and roots.

Within seconds she’d opened a door, both she and her second slipped into the tree and the door closed behind them.

Ky and Isaac shifted into their human forms.

Fiona stood next to Laken. Her wing still dangling uselessly, bone peeking through the feathers.

“Fiona can’t shift,” Jonah told them. “Seems her falcon wants nothing to do with shifting at the moment.” He leaned down, took the falcon in his arms.

Her heartbeat pulsed quickly, conveying her pain. His bear growled at her discomfort, angry that he hadn’t killed the witch responsible for hurting her.

“Get Fiona into the van. She will shift after she hibernates. She needs to heal first,” Mikhail directed them.

Alannah, the witch who’d saved his life stood to the side, as if uncertain of her future. She chewed on her bottom lip.

“What about you?” Jonah asked her.

“What about me,” the auburn-haired witch said.

“You can’t stay here.”

“That’s right, she can’t.” Mikhail affirmed Jonah’s statement. “You’re coming home with us, Alannah. My Miriam would never forgive me if I let harm come to Fiona’s cousin.”

Jonah held back the growl at his aunt’s matchmaking propensities. She was the reason Fiona was back in his life. Even if they weren’t back together. Even if she didn’t want him in her life.

He’d found Alannah outside his apartment building. When he confronted her, she told him Fiona was wondering how he was. It didn’t take much coaxing to get the entire story about how Fiona had ended up here and the role Ilse had in taking his bear with a curse.

He’d asked Alannah why she was telling him everything. Why now? She’d explained to Jonah that Fiona’s falcon was in danger. And that she had to keep her from harm.

It hadn’t taken Jonah long to mobilize his family and his uncle’s security team. They’d always loved Fiona and never understood why they’d separated.

Hell, I don’t understand it fully myself.

Though now it seemed it had something to do with the fact she was part witch.

“We have some talking to do,” he told the falcon in his arms.

She blinked slowly, her pulse decelerating, matching his. Her head cocked to the side in what his bear was sure was a nod of acquiescence.

Her feathers were downy in his arms.

“Right now, you’re going to heal and rest at my place. I’ll be there to watch over you,” he whispered.

F
iona was soothed
by Jonah’s attentions. She knew he’d see no harm came to her. She dreaded the moment when her falcon would let her come back to her human form. She had so much explaining to do.

It would almost be easier to run away, rather than deal with the anger he’d feel, the betrayal her actions would convey. Yes, easier to run.

“No, that’s not the answer,” came Alannah’s voice from behind her. “That’s not the answer at all.”

Damn that empath.

“Tsk” was the only sound Alannah made.

Fiona glowed inside from the knowledge her distant cousin risked her life to save hers. She owed her.

“You owe it to all of us to get better.”

“Freaky how she does that, isn’t it?” Jonah’s voice had mirth in it. His tone turned serious. “Let’s get you home to heal. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Fiona laid her falcon’s head onto his shoulder, letting the strength of his muscles be the comfort and strength she needed.

She’d need a lot of that once she tried to tell him about the baby, about being a witch.

Another surge of pain struck her shoulder, the world slipped away as the darkness and depths of agony pulled her into unconsciousness.

J
onah stretched
. Lying next to Fiona on his oversized bed, in his polar bear form, he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs, not only with precious life giving air, but also with the soul-filling scent of his mate.

Not yet mate,
his bear reminded him,
we haven’t couple bonded yet.

A technicality, Jonah wanted to argue. Fiona had always been the one for him, from the moment he met her on the job all those years ago. She’d been his one and only throughout the time they’d been together, and long after she’d left him.

She stirred, her falcon ruffling her feathers, then settling her head back under her wing, letting out a sound that was almost human sounding.

She’d be coming out of her hibernation soon; her wing had healed over, at least on the outside. The bone no longer showed through, the wing not hanging limply at her side.

He shifted into human form, slipped out of the bedroom and went to the kitchen. A cup of coffee was exactly what he needed.

Alannah was sitting at the table, slumped over, her head cradled in her hands, a cup of coffee to the side.

She raised her head and opened bloodshot eyes.

“You’ve been here all this time?” He hadn’t heard her stirring.

“Isaac, Cade, and I stayed, keeping an eye on things. They just stepped out for takeout.”

Jonah nodded and poured himself a cup. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

“I couldn’t do it any differently. I already felt like I was failing her and our families’ pact.”

“I’m sure you did what you could, knowing Fiona.”

Alannah smiled. “There have been constraints. She’s not very easy to work with.”

“Tell me about it. She’s a witch, I guess.”

Alannah nodded. “It’s not my position to discuss her heritage. She should be the one to talk about it.”

“She should be the one to talk about what?” A rumple clothed, messy-haired Fiona leaned against the door jamb watching them. She was in one of Jonah’s T-shirts; it hung off her, clinging to curves, reaching mid-thigh. A pair of his sweat shorts peeked out from the hem of his borrowed T-shirt.

“Fiona!” Alannah jumped to her feet and ran to her cousin, she held her at arms’ length. “You’re better. And awake.”

“Thanks to you all.”

“I didn’t think your falcon would let you out,” Alannah said.

“She was protecting me. And her.”

Jonah drank in the vision of her. She was as beautiful as ever, though her face was still on the pale side and there were dark circles under her eyes.

“Welcome back,” he said, though he meant it in so many more ways than one.

Her gaze was solemn. “We should talk, sometime.”

Alannah cleared her throat. “I’ll text Cade and tell her not to get take out. Give you some time to talk.”

Jonah nodded. “Thank you.”

Alannah nodded, her eyes glowing.

“Thank you, back.”

F
iona couldn’t take
her eyes off of Jonah, she leaned close, letting the scent of him cast the intoxicating spell it always did. The things she needed to tell him weren’t easy, and she didn’t know how he’d react. How much he’d hate her for not having known, and then when she did know, for not telling him, choosing instead to run away forever.

She closed her eyes briefly to let his scent sit on her senses, then opened her eyes, ready to grab the bull by the horns.

Jonah cupped her hand with his, and suddenly, everything seemed all right, as if whatever she had to say, he’d deal with it, she’d deal with it. No, they’d deal with it forever. She watched the digital clock on the coffee machine blinking zeros, as if time wasn’t the important thing here, they were.

“Thank you, for coming out there,” she started.

“Take a seat.” He patted the chair next to his.

She pulled her eyes from the blinking red zeroes and planted herself on the wooden chair. She tilted her head down, trying to think of what to say, where to begin.

“Why did you come to my rescue?” She opted to start with a question, because it was too damned hard to say the things she knew she had to.

“You have to ask that?” His smile was wry, on the crooked side. The smile she’d always love and not seen enough of the last few years.

He put his finger on her leg. Her pulse skipped a merry little beat in her body, finding a new rhythm, a quicker pace. His finger traced the seam of his shorts.

“You’re distracting me,” she told him. “I can’t tell you want I need to.”

“You can tell me anytime. It doesn’t have to be now. It won’t change the way I feel about you, the way my bear feels about your falcon.”

The mirrored reflection of her love in his eyes made a part of her melt. Correction. It made all of her melt.

She pushed the chair aside, just a moment. Maybe a few moments. “I want you to know the whole story before you make statements like that. I need you to know it.”

I need to know you will still want me before I sink any deeper into you.

Jonah sat back, his face chiseled, the features she’d called hers since she’d first gone for a drive with him. The old Jonah, with his motorcycle and daredevil ways, who used to take curves at a speed that made her breath catch in her throat.

I miss you.

She wanted to say the words, but first she had to clear the air.

Would he hate her when he found out about the baby? He didn’t seem to hate her for being part witch.

She took a deep breath. “So you know Mae Forester raised me. I took her name, she adopted me officially, though I was not exactly a little kid anymore.”

“I remember.” He steepled his fingers in front of his lips.

“She wanted to tell me about my past. I didn’t want to hear it. My falcon didn’t want to hear it. I learned later that my falcon’s objection was because of the witch and shifter relationship.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Seems things don’t go very well.”

“Yeah, I know.”

His parents had fallen prey to shifters colluding with witches. She got that. She knew he hated witches.

“Well, I didn’t listen to Mae when she was trying to tell me that I was born of witch blood. At least, I didn’t listen at that time.”

He cocked his head. “When did you listen?”

“After I lost our baby.”

He leaned forward, his gaze piercing straight to her soul. “Our baby?” He shook his head, seeming not to have processed her declaration. “We had a baby?”

A tear wound its way down her cheek. She hadn’t realized tears had formed in her eyes until she felt that one solitary drop making its way across the planes of her face.

“I lost it. A witch can’t carry a shifter’s baby. Not without magic being involved. When I called Mae to tell her about you, me, and the baby, she brought me up to speed.”

“I knew how much having children and a family mattered to you. I felt like I’d betrayed you. I couldn’t stay. How could I?”

Fiona watched him carefully, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Wait. You…” He blew out a breath, a panorama of emotions crossing his face. “You left because of that?”

“I had to. Because of the baby. I didn’t want to go through that again. And I didn’t want to tell you that I couldn’t carry our child to full term.”

“My little Fiona. My little fool. How could you think we wouldn’t work through it?”

Shame burned her cheeks. “How could I?”

He leaned forward, pulled her chair closer to his, his lips grazed her chin. “We could have worked through it. We will work through it. If you want to.”

Want to? I want nothing more.

Her hands cupped his cheeks, holding his face captive.

She leaned closer, her lips touched his. She ran the tip of her tongue over the full line of his bottom lip.

“More than anything,” she whispered into his mouth.

He leaned back until his lips hovered next to hers. His hands snaked up, twisted into her hair, held her prisoner in his grasp. “You never really had a choice in this. My bear, your falcon, me—none of us are going to let you walk away again.” A growl came from deep within his wide chest, making it ripple. “Ever, Fi. Not ever again.”

As if I’d ever want to.

She leaned into his embrace relishing the sensation and security of his strong arms around her.

“I want you.”

His words reverberated in her head, bouncing and ricocheting into her heart.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he stopped her with a kiss, and reached for the hem of her shirt. His hands were on the material, tugging, as he pulled away from her lips.

She raised her hands over her head, letting him slide the fabric off her body.

“I want you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted you. I need to be in you. I need your wet pussy around me and not a booty call, like last time.”

She started to protest, parting her lips to give argument, because it was never
just a booty call
for her.

His lips sealed her protest. His tongue claimed hers, making her moan, making her body flood with emotions and desire. She squirmed in her seat, pressed forward, and climbed into his lap while he pushed the oversize shorts she’d borrowed off her hips.

Fiona straddled his legs. He pushed his hand against her mound. She arched back, her core pressed against his hardness. The pulse in his cock beat against her flesh. She pressed her hips forward, her body still arching back, pushing her clit against his cock.

Jonah groaned, his hands on her waist, jamming her closer to him, grinding her body into his crotch.

With a grunt that seemed to be torn from his soul, he adjusted her backward and released his wonderful thickness from his pants.

Fiona licked her lip, imagining his taste. She raised and leaned forward, sliding onto his thickness, relishing the sensation of his cock spreading her wide. The pain of it merged with the pleasure as he filled her body, stretching her to sheath him.

Fiona moaned from sheer pleasure. She rocked back and forth, resting her hand on his muscular, rippling chest as he raised his body and at the same time guided her with his hands, driving himself deeper and deeper, striking at the very heart of her core, while she dove into an abyss of no return.

Wave after wave of orgasm crashed into Fiona. She went to scream his name when a bite into her neck sent her over the edge. His canines pierced her skin with a slicing pain that turned to pleasure when he licked that spot, right between her shoulder and neck.

Deep inside her, he sent his heated explosion crashing into hers, sealing their fate, driving deeper as he pulsed his release into her body.

She gasped at the delicious agony as the couple bonding welded them together for an eternity, making them the mates she’d always known they were.

“You’re mine.” His voice was husky with desire, hoarse with an overwhelming emotion.

“Always,” she affirmed.