It was early, but Tamian couldn’t wait to find out who the female was. He let himself into the lab and headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Julian didn’t drink the stuff, but Tamian consumed it like it was water. Not that he needed the caffeine; he was full of enough energy to power all of New Atlanta. He just liked the way it tasted. No sugar or cream for him. Black and rich was the way he preferred to drink it. He was on his third cup by the time Julian’s Corvette rumbled into the parking lot. Tamian grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator and had it waiting for Jules when he made his way inside.

“You’re here bright and early,” Julian said as he took the offered soft drink. “Thanks.”

“I can’t explain it, but I need to know who this woman is.”

“Do you think she’s your mate?”

“What?”

“Your mate. You know, the one created just for you who makes your insides turn to mush.”

“I know what a mate is, and no. I don’t think she’s mine.” It wasn’t possible. Tamian couldn’t feel a mate bond from a photo on a screen. Could he?

“Then why the ‘need’ to know who she is? Tamian, if you’re feeling the pull, don’t blow off the bond. It’s a wonderful thing.”

“How could I feel the bond through a photo on the computer monitor?”

“Oh, I don’t know. The same way Rafael knew Kaya was his from her voice on the telephone? The same way I knew Katherine was mine from seeing her on the television.”

Tamian wasn’t ready for a mate. He didn’t know that he ever would be. “For the sake of argument, we’ll pretend she is my mate. That makes it more imperative I find out who she is so I can go to Norway and ascertain her intentions.”

Julian sat down in front of the main monitor and typed a few strokes on the keyboard. The woman’s photo populated across several of the other screens. In each photo, she looked different, like she had attempted to disguise herself. If the woman was a spy, she needed to learn how to change her appearance better, but she probably didn’t have someone like Jonas in her life supplying prosthetics.

“I have yet to figure out if any of the aliases are her true name. Here, she is Natalia Portsmouth,” Julian said, pointing to a photo which resembled the one Urijah sent. “In this one, she is Marlena Evans. Here, her name is Harlow Guthrie, and that one is Karsyn Daily. I also got a hit on a Lucy but no last name. I would venture to bet she has more aliases than I have uncovered, but this gives us a starting point.”

“Us?” Tamian didn’t expect Julian to help him any further than he had.

“Of course, us. Tamian, you are part of our Clan. You’re family, whether you want us to be or not. This woman, mate or not, obviously means something to you, and I’ll do everything I can to help you. Not only that, but she’s in Urijah’s hometown. He’s family, too. We need to find out what she’s up to and why.”

“Do you think Urijah will return to the States?”

“That depends on Banyan. If the two of them can settle their differences, then I think Urijah will be wherever Banyan is. Considering he is being crowned King of the Norse Gargoyles today, I would venture to guess they will both be making Norway home. At least part of the time.”

“I was there when they blew up. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. But I do not question the strength of the bond, either. Having my own mate has given me clarity when it comes to having a fated being in my life. There is nothing Katherine could do that I wouldn’t forgive.”

“Not even infidelity?”

“She would never cheat on me. The mate bond makes it so you never want another. The idea of cheating is nauseating.”

Tamian had heard Tessa speak of the bond, both in her head and aloud. He knew from eavesdropping there was nothing greater than her love for Gregor. The only thing that came close was her love for her family. Jonas had said much the same thing over the years, telling Tamian he would one day understand when he met his own mate. He couldn’t imagine loving someone that much. “Please send everything you have to my phone.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get on a plane to Norway.”

“Tamian, keep an open mind. If she is your mate—”

“I will know as soon as I meet her. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Safe travels, Brother.”

Tamian returned his cup to the kitchen and washed it before heading out. As soon as he got the information from Julian, he would travel to Norway. On the drive home to pack, Tamian pressed the hands-free button on the steering wheel. “Call Santiago.”

The phone rang several times before a deep voice answered, “Mr. St. Claire, what can I do for you?”

“Ready my jet. I’m going to Norway.”

 

 

Banyan joined his family at the front of the ballroom. Hundreds of Gargoyles stood in rows waiting for the coronation to begin. He searched every face, looking for the one who meant more to him than life itself. He knew – he knew – Urijah was there, somewhere. He could feel him just as strongly as he ever could. That didn’t make sense, though. He had released Uri from their bond.

Maybe the fates know better.

Banyan faltered as his beast spoke to him. With every eye in the room focused on Banyan, he recovered and made the final few steps with Brynna on his arm to where his father and mother waited. When the King raised his hands, everyone was seated. If it wasn’t for his sister or his family in the front row, Banyan might have turned around and retreated the way he came. Becoming King was a big deal, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for the job. Standing stiffly next to his father, a sense of peace washed over Banyan. His best friend might hate him, but it seemed Uri’s beast was doing what came naturally – taking care of its mate. Banyan took a deep breath and relaxed.

 “Being a ruler of any nation, of any Clan, is a task few are faced with. It isn’t a position to take lightly. Having served as King for over nine centuries has been the biggest honor of my long life. However, it is time for the Queen and I to take some time for ourselves. It is my desire to hand over the throne to my only male offspring. Before I can do that, I must ask if it is the intention of anyone in attendance to challenge my decision, as is your right. In doing so, you will be challenging Banyan for the right to rule. So I ask you now, is there one here who would request trial by combat?”

Banyan had to keep himself from holding his breath as he waited for someone to come forward. Gargoyles could detect fear. They also recognized dominance. He called on his shifter, and together, they brought forth every ounce of warrior inside. He stood tall, daring anyone to answer in the affirmative. When it didn’t happen, his father turned to him. Banyan already knew the questions his father would ask and was ready with his answers. They had rehearsed the ceremony, and with Sigrid not being well, Asmund had promised to keep it short and to the point.

“Banyan Asmund Holgersen, as the first male of my name, I would ask you these questions: “Are you willing to accept the crown as King of the Norse Clan?”

Banyan, who normally spoke softly and carefully to hide his accent, let his voice be heard loud and clear. “I am.”

“Will you put the Clan above all others, including yourself?”

“I will.”

“Will you continue to protect humans as Gargoyles have vowed to do since the beginning of time?”

“I will.”

“Please kneel,” his father instructed.

Banyan went down to one knee, and his father removed his sword from its sheath. “As King of the Norse Clan, I, Asmund Brynjar Holgersen, pass the throne to min sønn, Banyan Asmund Holgersen, and crown you the new King of the Norse Clan.” Asmund tapped Banyan on both shoulders before returning his sword to his side. “Rise, My King,” his father said, bowing his head and fisting his heart.

As practiced, Banyan took Brynna’s hand in his and raised it. “Hear me this day. As your King, I introduce to you my sister, Brynhild Sigrid Holgersen, your Queen.” As one, the crowd stood. Every head bowed, and every heart was covered by a hand, accepting both Banyan and Brynna as their new rulers. Asmund and Sigrid stepped back, giving Banyan the respect he deserved as the Clan came forward one by one to congratulate him. Brynna stood off to the side, ready to receive any gifts the Clan might have brought, while their parents slipped quietly out of the room. They had said their goodbyes earlier, and his parents were packed and ready to leave for Switzerland.

The first ones in line were Tabor and Halina. Tabor held out a sheath, and said, “I couldn’t be prouder if you were my own.” Banyan inspected the leather, noting the intricate designs tamped into the hide. He didn’t bother handing it to his sister. Seeing his uncle behind Tabor, Banyan wrapped the strap around his waist, and said, “I will wear it with honor.”

Halina kissed him on the cheek and giggled. “I kissed the King.” Blushing, she looked around the room, and Banyan’s eyes followed hers. Not seeing Uri anywhere, he returned his attention to the front of the line.

Freyda also kissed him on the cheek before Gautum stepped forward holding a sword. “Min sønn,” he whispered. “I always knew this day would come, but I didn’t realize the depth of pride I would know. Please accept this gift as a token of a father’s love and an uncle’s gratitude.”  Banyan had to blink away the tears. Kings probably shouldn’t cry in front of their Clan, but the love he felt for Gautum was only surpassed by that he felt for Urijah. The weapon in his hand would be displayed for all to see in his home. He took it and slid it into the sheath Tabor had given him.

“Takk så mye, Pappa,” Banyan whispered. Banyan would never be able to repay his uncle for the wonderful life he’d given him as a young male. Saying thank you would never be enough.

Urijah’s brothers and their mates stepped forward, quickly congratulating Banyan. He promised to catch up with them later in the dining hall, which was full of food and drink.

As the line became shorter, a familiar scent swirled around Banyan, and he knew in his heart Urijah was somewhere close by. When the room had emptied except for Banyan, Brynna, and the last guest, Banyan’s breath caught in his throat. Standing before him was his mate. Urijah was dressed almost identical to Banyan, with the exception of the color of his tunic.

And Mjölnir.

Banyan’s talisman hung proudly around Urijah’s neck. Urijah stood before Banyan with his head bowed and his hand fisted over his heart. “My King.”

Before he thought better of it, Banyan reached out and cupped Urijah’s chin, raising his face to search his eyes for the truth of why he was there. Was he there to make fun of Banyan? To torment him further with what he couldn’t have? Something, maybe his beast, told him to trust Uri, if even for a second. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, Banyan told him, “Not you. Never you. Never bow your head to me.”

Urijah nodded stiffly, his blue eyes haunted. With his hand still on Urijah’s face, Banyan caressed Urijah’s whiskered jaw with the pad of his thumb. His beard was shorter than Banyan had seen in hundreds of years, and his hair was free, falling across his shoulders. Banyan ached to thread his fingers through what he knew was silk. Urijah had never looked more beautiful.

Banyan knew if he ever sank his hands into Uri’s hair, there would be no turning back, and he still hadn’t determined exactly why Uri was there, so instead, he traced the familiar metal at Uri’s chest. “You kept it,” he whispered before looking back up to meet Urijah’s questioning eyes. He expected to find the same furious face he’d last seen, but Uri wasn’t angry. If anything, he was nervous. There was no plausible reason for Uri to be nervous, unless he was there to hurt Banyan. Finally pay him back for what he’d done in the past. Urijah’s mood was all over the place, but Banyan didn’t feel hatred. He felt…

No. It wasn’t possible.

Uri reached in his pocket and held out his hand to Banyan. “I made this for you,” he said, with his fist closed. Banyan took the object from Uri, and when he saw what it was, he stopped breathing. Again. In his hand was the most precious gift he’d ever received. He would always cherish the sword Gautum forged for him, but this… This was more than he could have ever hoped for.

“I don’t understand,” Banyan admitted. “Last we spoke…” Banyan bowed his head. He wouldn’t allow himself to hope for the impossible, yet Urijah was there with a present, and not just any present – one he had taken time to forge himself. Not only that, but the bond was there as well. Somehow, the thread Banyan thought to have severed was intact.

“Last we spoke, I was hurting. I’ve had some time to think and to listen to words of wisdom from several who are smarter than I am.”

“What are you saying?” Banyan dared to ask, searching Uri’s eyes for the truth.

“What I’m saying is this: I love you. With every breath in my body, with every fiber of my being, I love you, Banyan Asmund Holgersen. I will love you until the last breath leaves my body and forever after that day.”

Banyan narrowed his eyes at Urijah as his mate said the same words he had written in a letter years ago as they prepared for battle. “Is this a joke?” he asked, backing away. This had to be the cosmos’s way of fucking with him. There was no way Urijah would have a change of heart so soon.

Before he could question him about the letter, Urijah stepped closer to Banyan and took the pendant from his hand, sliding the leather around Banyan’s head. Uri kept his fingers between the cord and Banyan’s skin. “No, B. This is not a joke. I was a fool. Most of my life I ran from you. From us. But no more. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I would like a chance to rekindle our friendship.”

“Friendship? Is that all you want?” Of course. Uri didn’t want him as a mate. Never had.

“Honestly? No. But you’re the King now. It’s why I waited until after the ceremony to approach you.”

“You were here?”

Uri nodded. “Yes. I got here yesterday, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me? Uri, you’re my best friend. My ma… You could never bother me.”

“As Banyan, no. But as King Banyan, you have responsibilities now, and I don’t want to get in the way. I’ll take whatever time you give me.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Banyan was ready to throttle Uri. Did he honestly believe just because he had a new title he wouldn’t want Uri by his side?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come.” Obviously misunderstanding Banyan’s outburst, Urijah turned to go, and Banyan could only stare as Urijah prepared to walk out of his life again. He should let him go. None of this made sense.

Before Uri made it to the door, Banyan was on him, twisting him until they were face to face. As much as Banyan didn’t trust Uri’s motives, his beast obviously didn’t give a shit. Banyan shoved Urijah against the wall and crashed their mouths together, barely withdrawing his fangs before they cut into Urijah’s lips. If Banyan somehow had the wrong idea and Urijah only wanted to be friends, Urijah would shove him away.

Uri gripped Banyan’s hips so hard he would feel it for days to come. He didn’t care. All that mattered was getting as much of Uri as he could. His mouth. His hands. His hard cock pushing against Banyan’s erection.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Banyan knew there was something he was supposed to be doing, but fuck if he cared. He had his mate – yes, his mate – in his arms, and he never wanted to let go.

He loves us.

As a friend.

Does that hard cock pressing against your leg feel like friends?

I’ve felt his erection plenty in the past. It means nothing.

He said he loves you. That means everything.

Urijah had said he loved Banyan, but could he trust it? Trust his heart to the one who had already ripped it to shreds? There was nothing left. If Banyan let Uri in and this was a cruel ruse to get back at him, he would never recover. He had barely been hanging on as it was before the ceremony.

Urijah was kissing him back like he’d never kissed him before. Both males were seeking domination, and neither was giving the other any measure of control. Urijah growled, pushing at Banyan’s shoulders hard enough to put some space between them. Uri’s pupils were blown. The vibes he was giving off definitely hinted at more than friendship. Urijah wanted Banyan, but in what way? Was it merely sex? He and Urijah had spent years together as friends who got each other off. That had to be what Uri was after now. He wanted to rekindle their friendship and meet up every so often so they could make each other feel good.

“Don’t overthink this, B. I want you. I know I have a lot of groveling to do, and if you never accept my apology, I’ll have to live with that. What I won’t live with is not trying. I’ve been an idiot for far too long. I understand if we can’t be together the way you wanted before because of the crown, but I meant what I said. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Is this because you no longer have Finley?”

Urijah flinched. The hunger in his eyes gave over to pain. He shoved away from Banyan and ran a hand through his long hair. Banyan’s claws itched to break through the skin.

“Fin was never mine. I know you didn’t choose him to fight for any reason other than he was one of the best. We had twenty good years as friends, and he died so that I might live. I’ll never forget him nor will I waste his sacrifice by wasting my life.”

“Nor should you. But why now? You have to see this from my perspective. For thirty years, you’ve hated me. Wanted nothing to do with me. The last time I saw you, that hatred was palpable. Now, little more than a week later, you’re declaring your love? Tell me why I should believe you.”

“B, don’t forget you have guests out here,” Brynna called from the other side of the door.

Fuck! Banyan wanted to stay in the ballroom until he and Urijah could straighten everything out, but he was now King. He had a duty to mingle with his Clan, whether he wanted to or not.

“Go, B. Go be King. You and I can talk later,” Uri said.

“Will you still be here?”

“Yes. I want to make you understand how I feel. For now, go mix with the little folk,” Uri joked, but he wasn’t smiling.

Banyan walked to the door, his heart heavy. Instead of walking out, he strode to Urijah and cupped his face in both hands. Banyan ghosted his lips across Uri’s, needing a small taste to tide him over until later.