Chris

Chapter 1-2

Chris, though a rider to his core, had gone back to college and had studied public relations to better serve his MC. As a result of his studies, the smallest of their divisions, a chain of garages, had expanded all over the state thanks to an advertising campaign that had gone viral.

As a thank you, he was on the Council. In essence, that was great. Her father knew how damn clever her mate was. But that mate was in constant contact with said father and knew how protective he was of his daughter.

She’d be lucky if she was still unclaimed when she hit forty.

“Where’d you go?” Mischa asked, gently squeezing her arm.

“Just thinking about things I can’t change,” she said glumly.

“Maybe you should ask your dad about college again.”

Ava blinked at her. “After the last time?” Mars wanted her where he knew she was. She’d tried, unsuccessfully, over the years to get him to agree but to no avail. And unless she wanted to leave the Clan, permanently; exile herself from all she knew and loved, her enormous extended family included, then she had no choice but to do as he wished.

“Yeah. That last time was two years ago. You’re twenty-five now. Plus, I told you not to pitch for an out of state college again. Go to a local one so it will at least get you out of the clubhouse. That’s what you both need. Time apart.” She grimaced. “Well, that’s the last thing you need but circumstances being what they are, that’s what will do you good. Proximity isn’t going to help you.” She squeezed Ava’s arm again. “You need to do something, babushka. You’re miserable.”

A shaky breath escaped her as she put the spoon back in the bowl. “I know.” What could she say? Mischa was one hundred percent right.

“It would help if you could tell your parents...”

“He made me swear not to.”

“And yet I still don’t understand why.”

She shrugged. “He said he didn’t want to be kicked out of the MC by the Prez for being mated to his daughter.”

Mischa made a pshawing noise. “What a ridiculous reason.”

“You said it yourself, Mischa. Men and their pride. They don’t make any sense whatsoever.”

The sound of boots stomping down the hall echoed into the kitchen. Mischa’s smile was all the proof Ava needed to know it was her mate, Kiko, coming down the way.

She dropped her head in politeness as the two greeted each other. Too used to the mated pairs in the den eating each other’s faces off after being reunited after even the shortest spaces of time, she didn’t even turn red at the noises Mischa made.

Hell, she’d seen nearly all of the mated couples in various phases of in flagrante dilecto. On top of that, she’d seen the club bunnies at work. There was no getting embarrassed after seeing what they did to earn their spot in the MC and to keep the riders happy.

A large hand clapped down on her back, and she turned at the signal that the smooching was over. “Hey Kiko,” she greeted with a faint smile.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” the VP asked, wrapping a beefy arm over her shoulder as his mate ladled him some soup. It was a portion that made Ava’s mighty bowl look small and she smiled a little at the size of it as it reminded her of Goldilocks and the three bears, especially when Mischa took a bowl for herself that was the smallest of the lot.

“Nothing’s wrong, Kiko. Thanks for asking though. You okay?”

He grunted. “Lies! But I’ll forgive you because you’re my favorite goddaughter.”

She laughed. “I’m your only goddaughter.”

“Good job. You cause enough trouble for two.” He winked at her to tell her he was teasing, then when she just smiled weakly at him, he frowned. Shooting his mate a look, Kiko murmured, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you feeling ill? Your cycle was last week, wasn’t it?”

Withholding a huff at his comment, she jerked a shoulder. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” Mischa inserted. “She wants to go to college.”

Kiko groaned. “Oh Jesus, not that again.” He scrubbed a hand over his face but when he reached for his spoon, Mischa slapped it.

“That’s not helpful, Kiko. We need helpful suggestions here.”

He snorted. “You’re not the one who has to put up with Mars when he has his tantrums.”

“I know, but you surely know of a way to help us?”

“Why do you want to go to college, Ava?” he asked, his tone a little to desperate, but Ava knew it was because of the militant glowers in his mate’s eye. “You’re already the best administrator the Clan has. You don’t need a degree to tell you that.”

She shrugged. “I don’t want to be an administrator.”

When he went for a spoonful of borscht, Mischa slapped his hand again. He sighed. “It seems like I can’t eat until I help. So, what is it you want to study?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He gawked at her. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I just know I don’t want to manage the MC.”

“How do we help her, mate?” Mischa asked.

“Do you know which college you want to go to? It’s not Harvard again, is it?” he demanded warily.

“No. That’s by the wayside now.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning at her in a way that told her, bizarrely enough, he was offended on her behalf.

With a sigh, she explained, “They don’t hold those places open forever, you know.” She fiddled with her spoon as she shrugged. It wasn’t as nonchalant as she made it appear—it stung like hell her father hadn’t allowed her to go to Harvard. The culmination of years of study, and with the denial to use her reward, she realized it was all for nothing.

“But you were the top of your year.” He clicked his fingers. “That dictorían thing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Valedictorian, yes.”

“And they didn’t hold the place for you?”

“It was seven years ago, Uncle,” she told him softly, using the endearment for what it was—he wasn’t by blood, but by Clan he was more than that. He was like a second father.

Mischa rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry, babushka,” she told her, as she’d told Ava many, many times.

“I don’t think your father knew,” Kiko said softly. “If he had, he’d have let you go, I’m sure.”

She grunted. “Yeah, right. Why change the habit of a lifetime? Actually letting me do something I want. And surely he had to realize that Harvard wouldn’t hold a place for me forever. It’s stupid to think they would.”

“What do we know of human education?” Kiko retorted.

“It’s common sense,” she snapped back, fired up enough to lose her temper a little. “Why would the nation’s most prestigious university wait for a nobody like me? Sure, I was top of my class. Everyone is at the top of their class when they make it there. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It meant something to us. We were there for your graduation, and that speech you gave made us all proud.”

“I’m glad it did, but now it means nothing.” She pursed her lips as she thought of all the wasted hours of studing. Hours that had earned her a fully free ride to one of the best colleges in the world. “There’s no point in talking about this. He’ll never change his mind.” Mischa shot Kiko a look, one that had Ava shaking her head. “Don’t get into an argument over it. Not between yourselves or with my dad. He’ll just be his usual jerk self, and I don’t want you to end up being Challenged, Kiko. Jeez, that’s the last thing I want.”

Kiko snorted. “Mars wouldn’t Challenge me.”

“Where I’m concerned, you know he’s crazy,” came the tired reply. She got to her feet and sent Mischa a weary smile. “Thanks for the borscht, Meechee.”

“You haven’t finished it all.”

Ava just shrugged. “I’m not that hungry.”

She left the kitchen, dragging her feet as she headed down the corridor, past the common room where she could hear the sound of a game of pool being played, and aimed her way for the staircase.

Before she’d been born, a fire had decimated this part of the clubhouse. They’d patched it up, but had rebuilt a larger section. Extending the building, and almost tripling its size over the course of five years.

Above the common room, there was now an administration center. It ran the entire length of the extension, and had over thirty people working within its confines.

God, she hated the office.

Thankfully, being Mars’ daughter gave her some perks. Even though her mother usually busted her balls, she had some freedom and most of her admin work she could do in her own bedroom rather than amid the crowded quarters.

As The Nomads brand expanded, they only became busier. Sometimes, she felt like her father wasn’t letting her fly the nest simply because he needed her skills as a bookkeeper. Who better to trust than his only child?

But then, whenever that nasty, insidious thought reared its ugly head, she realized how stupid it was to think that way.

Bear Shifters were notorious for protecting their cubs. They were even more infamous for keeping their cubs young as long as possible.

It was nice, she guessed. And she never questioned that her parents loved her, but sometimes she felt like she was being suffocated by their lack of emotional support or care.

All she’d ever known was this clubhouse, and even when she was mated—when her SOB mate agreed to f*****g Claim her—this would be her life too.

She’d known Chris was her mate since after she’d hit puberty. And he’d known it too.

She’d never forget the first horrified glance he’d shot her when the realization had hit home, and it was a look that would haunt her until the day she died.

Horror. Terror. Revulsion.

The triad weren’t exactly the emotions key to winning a girl’s heart. Not that she had a say in that. The Goddesses decided who was mated to whom, and Ava could only say they’d played a sick and twisted game when they’d matched her to a man in her own Clan. It was no wonder he felt like a pervert. To realize that a mate was yours when you were in your eighties and she was only fifteen was the height of cruelty.

Still, she’d matured the way a regular human would. Just because her culture kept her young, it didn’t mean her body had.

She’d always liked Chris. He’d always been friendly to her, kind. Always there with a joke or some candy if her daddy had said something to piss her off.

He hadn’t creeped on her. He wasn’t like that at all. If anything, he’d been the opposite. And when she’d had her first period, and they’d realized what they were to each other, that gentle friendship had vanished overnight.

In a way, that had hurt more than anything.

She’d grown used to his teasing jokes and him coming over and chatting to her, commiserating over something her father was dictating. In a weird way, he’d been like talking to Kiko, except she knew that whatever she said to Kiko would find its way back to her father eventually—for her own good, of course. She snorted at the thought.

Chris, on the other hand, had been a confidante. She knew he’d never tell her father anything she’d shared with him. Not that she’d shared anything too deep with him to begin with.

He’d been a guy, after all. Older than her by decades, in her father’s Council none the less. Mischa had been her only real confidante in the clubhouse after she lost Chris’ friendship. At school, she’d had her own friends but no one understood real her heritage. They didn’t know what she was.