“What was all that?” She waved toward the chair.
“Lunch kisses. They don’t count toward morning kisses. Morning kisses are”—he bent down and rubbed his nose against hers, pressing their foreheads together—“naked.”
Naked. She could get behind the idea of naked.
* * *
The shower took longer than anticipated. Well, longer than
she
anticipated. Keen seemed to be in no hurry to join his family and had loved her thoroughly. Twice.
Running a towel over her hair, she scrubbed the strands in an effort to soak up some of the moisture. She hadn’t found a hair dryer under the sink and she hoped Mia wouldn’t mind lending Trista hers. It seemed like the woman liked her as did Keen’s parents if not his brothers.
The rumble of approaching vehicles and the crunch of their tires over the gravel driveway had her going to the bedroom window. A half-dozen SUVs pulled to a stop before the house, making a neat row of vehicles. Massive men, males larger than the Abrams brothers, alighted from a few of the vehicles and moved to encircle the center SUV. One other vehicle was given the same treatment while the last was simply left alone as two men stepped out.
“Keen?”
He strode out of the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips as he too towel dried his hair. “Hmm?”
“There’s…” She pointed out the window.
He padded closer and peeked through the curtains. She watched his expression, saw the spread of his lips into a wide smile, and she let some of her gathering anxiety float free of her body. “They’re here.”
“They?”
He pointed out the window. “That end one is Mia’s father and my brother Isaac.”
The brother who’d been permanently scarred by Trista’s family. “Keen…”
Keen dropped the towel in his hands and embraced her. “Hush. I already talked to him. You know this. Isaac is a Healer so he’s used to acting like Switzerland when it comes to people. He can push his feelings aside and do his job. That also means he doesn’t hold grudges and he knows what happened had nothing to do with
you
. Out of everyone, you shouldn’t fear him.”
Trista turned her head to focus on the other vehicles. “And the rest?”
“Probably Terrence and his entourage. Not sure who else he brought with him, though,” he murmured. “Let’s find out.”
“I’m scared.” There, the words were out.
“Give me a little trust, Tris. He’s a good man and a better bear.”
Trista rested her chin on his chest. “You’re sure?”
“I wouldn’t let you out of this room if I wasn’t.”
With a sigh, she stepped back and reached for her borrowed clothes. “Okay, let’s see what they have to say and…” She swallowed and prayed Keen would abide by her wishes. “And even if he is my family, you won’t force me to spend time with him? I don’t think I can after…”
“Tris.” He stopped her with a gentle touch and cupped her cheeks. “I love you.”
She felt that love to her bones and beyond, it filled her from head to toe and she hoped his feelings would never end.
“I love you and if you never want to see him again, we won’t. For now, we’ll use him for our safety and to sort things out. After that, even if he is your uncle, we can walk away.” When he kissed her, she leaned into the touch, drawing strength from his body.
All too soon, their meeting came to an end and they separated to dress. It took moments to become presentable and they went to the bedroom door. Traveling along the hallway, they were met by Ty halfway to the common area of the house.
“Terrence is here.” Ty’s voice was low, but audible as he spoke to Keen. “Mia’s dad and Isaac, too.” That’s when Ty’s concerned gaze flicked to her and then back to his brother.
“And you know our brother,” Keen countered. “I’m not worried about his reaction.”
The Itan sighed. “And I know our brother.” He relaxed for a moment. “But those aren’t the only extras who appeared with him.”
“Who else?”
Trista wasn’t sure she wanted to know. New people meant new trouble. They already had enough with Terrence and his inner-circle.
“His mate and sons,” Ty continued and Trista’s stomach clenched. “And,” the Itan heaved in a deep breath, “and Jessa.”
Panic welled inside her. It was stupid and unnatural and there was no reason to be wary of Jessa’s presence, but she was. Keen had only thought himself in love with the werebear long ago, but the woman had proven she wasn’t the one for Keen. So why was Trista worried Keen would suddenly decide that he wanted Jessa instead?
Because he’d craved her once.
Rough hands grasped her and backed her up until her back collided with the wall. Keen loomed over her, a fierce expression on his face that looked like a cross between anger and frustration.
“You’re mine.” He fisted her hair.
“Yes.” She belonged to him, wholly and without question.
“Which means I’m yours.” He tightened his grip just enough to cause a slight sting. “
Yours.
”
She gazed at him and watched the fury drain to be replaced by love. The love they’d professed and shared across pillows and against bare skin.
“Okay.”
“She’s nothing now, Trista.”
“Okay,” she rasped, knowing he spoke the truth. She may not have recognized it earlier, but she did now.
The rough grip transformed to a soft caress, one that slid over her shoulders, down her arms, and ended with their fingers twined together. “Ty? Thank you for letting us know.”
The Itan grunted, sounding very, very much like his father. With that, Ty turned and headed back the way he’d come.
“I want to introduce you to Terrence. He’s a good male and no matter what position he has in your life, I’m asking you to give him a chance.” His voice held a plea, one she couldn’t deny.
What if Keen hadn’t given her a chance? What if he’d scented a hyena and run her off without a second thought?
Trista nodded. “Okay.” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Let’s meet the Southeast Itan.”
The path to the kitchen was familiar, as was the route to the living room. The murmur of voices reached them first, the deep baritone of the males offset by the high alto of the women. The tone was subdued, but seemed to be imbued with a hint of excitement, as well.
The excitement made her nervous. The Southeast Itan was a powerful man and if she wasn’t who they all thought she was, how would he retaliate?
“Shh… I’m right here. You’ll be fine.” Keen squeezed her hand.
They paused as they neared the threshold and she fought to ignore the massive males who lined the hallway. Guards. Of course the Southeast Itan wouldn’t travel without guards. And each one appeared more deadly than the last.
Her mate must have sensed her growing unease and he was quick to reassure her. “Tris?” She tore her gaze from the suit-clad men. “We’re in the clan house, with my brothers inside that room. I know they would protect you with their lives. Knowing that, knowing you’d be safe, I could take on every male in this home and win. Nothing would get past me.” He stroked her neck, fingers gliding over the new scars that decorated her skin. “I’m sorry the bear was torn in two different directions by Adrienne and Reid and couldn’t keep you from harm, but that wouldn’t happen here. Here, they’d all die.”
That had the guards growling, the sound rolling and echoing off the tiled floor, but Keen ignored the sounds. “Are you ready?”
Trista nodded. She wasn’t, but she didn’t think she’d ever be ready. Not really. “Yes.”
Before they could take the last few steps, a younger man stuck his head through the arched entry to the living room. “Dad wants to know why you guys are growl—” He swallowed his words and simply stared at her with wide eyes. His gaze shifted from her to Keen, widening even further, before settling on her once again. “Oh.
Oh.
Dad?” With that, he disappeared from view. “Dad!”
They followed the man, more of a boy, into the space to join the rest of their visitors. In reality, Keen dragged Trista into the room, but she refused to admit her cowardice.
At their entry, everyone froze, all conversation stopped, and dozens of eyes were intent on them, one set seeming more focused than the others. Focused on her.
The man was older, easily matching Keen’s father in age. She had no doubt the stranger was pushing through his sixties and closer to seventy. His hair was white, but there were hints of a familiar burgundy hue scattered amongst the pale strands. His eyes crinkled at the edges and the slope of his nose was one she’d traced when she was a child. Except, when she was little, it’d been on a decidedly female face. The lips were the same, the cut of his chin. His features were harder, sharper, but still very, very familiar.
Terrence, it was obviously Terrence, the Southeast Itan and her mother’s brother. She wasn’t sure she could ever call him “uncle.”
“My God…” The man’s voice was hoarse and filled with shock.
Trista felt the same surprise, had that exact emotion clogging her veins and stealing her breath. But while he voiced his astonishment through two words, she had only one. One that she’d wondered from the moment the theory had been presented to her.
“
Why
?”
“You look just like her.”
“
Why
?” She threw the word into the air once again.
He grimaced and opened his mouth to reply, but she couldn’t hold back the anger any longer. Instead of waiting for a response, she tore herself from Keen and stomped toward him, her anger and grief filling her more and more with every step. Every struggling moment of her life coalesced into this moment, this time that melded the past and the present until she was before him.
Tears coursed down her cheeks as she released her gathered fury and emotional agony. She yelled and screamed, but had no idea what words were released. But words didn’t matter, pain did. The pain she’d endured, the pain she’d lived and breathed through year after year. The pain of losing her mother and almost losing her own life.
“Why did you abandon us? Why did you—” Emotion clogged her throat, stealing her breath.
“I didn’t know.” His eyes were too kind and regretful. “If she would have come to me—”
“She needed you.
We
needed you.” She didn’t try to disguise her anguish.
“I’m sorry. If I’d known I would have—”
“Fuck you!” She spat the words, flinging them without hesitation. “Fuck you and your fucking ‘sorry.’ She’d be alive if you’d helped her. She’d be—”
She unleashed it all on the most powerful man in the southeast. And he took it. Took every bellowing shout.
Snarls battled her yells, growls answering her sobs.
It wasn’t until the scent of blood, not her mate’s but an unfamiliar male’s, hit her nose that she finally stopped. She gathered herself, pushed free of Terrence’s easy hold, and sought out her mate. No, he wasn’t bleeding, he wasn’t hurt, but the Southeast Itan’s guards were.
Keen stood before them, his massive bulk having shoved everyone away from Trista and Terrence as she’d fought him. He had them cornered while the rest of the group was spread before them. One of the guards tried to venture close again and Keen batted the male away. At least her mate had kept his claws out of play.
“Keen…” When George stepped forward, Keen raised to his back legs, stretching to his full height as he released a bellow louder than any she’d ever heard.
That had Keen’s father easing back into the crowd. The others shifted, squirming beneath Keen’s temper, and she was so proud of her mate. He’d been so crushed when she was hurt and now his bear was doubly determined to keep her from any threat.
Trista brushed Terrence’s presence from her thoughts and focused on her mate. She could beat on the Southeast Itan later. Right now, she had a mate to calm.
Placing a hand on his haunch, she dug her fingers into his fur and tugged, snaring the bear’s attention. It turned to her with a snarl on his lips that he quickly cut off the moment he recognized her. In that instant he went from deadly werebear to a sweet kitten. Well, half-ton kitten, but he was still gentle as he lowered to four paws and turned so he could butt her stomach with his head.
“I’m fine.”
He huffed at her and nudged her once again and she rubbed one of his ears, earning a soft chuff. Movement from the crowd, one of the suited guards easing closer, had him swinging his attention to the approaching male. With another roar, he batted at the man.
That had Terrence responding. “I didn’t realize you were all trained to be stupid,” he drawled. “If he’d wanted me dead, I would be. Some of you are mated. Don’t you know better than to threaten a were’s mate?”
Keen grunted and she sensed the laugh lurking in the sound. The scent of blood reached her once again, the aroma fresh and still flowing. She glanced around the room, hunting for the person injured by Keen. The male was resting against one of the far walls, hands cupping his nose.
“Keen? You shouldn’t have hurt anyone on my behalf.” She lowered her head and rubbed her cheek against his muzzle. “But thank you.”
“Oh,” someone spoke up and Trista looked for the speaker. She found it in a younger man who looked to be hardly fifteen. “He didn’t. He broke his nose while running from your mate.
Boom.
Right into the wall. Crunch was kinda nice to hear.”
“That’s your cousin, Bane.” Terrence murmured from behind her and she refused to acknowledge him. Not just because her emotions were in turmoil and anger rode her like a wild beast, but also because embarrassment was beginning to set in. It plagued her while also reminding her of everything she’d been taught by her mother. She’d assaulted the Southeast Itan. Uncle or not, she’d gone after a very powerful male and she didn’t want to think about punishment for such an infraction. “Bane is…”
The thump of car doors shutting alerted them to someone’s presence. The confrontation had obviously masked their approach, but everyone was now aware of the approaching visitors.
“We can discuss your cousins… everything… later,” Terrence murmured and then stepped around her and a still shifted Keen.
People burst into movement then. They righted furniture and straightened clothes while someone ran off to find something for Keen to wear. In moments, Anna reappeared with sweats and a T-shirt for her son. As her mate dressed, she focused on Terrence speaking with George near the entryway. George nodded and moved toward the front door while Terrence turned to the room at large.