Revolution Read online

  Gripping the base briefly, he glided his hand over his shaft, paying special attention to the head. He was extra sensitive at the tip and he added a sharp twist, groaning as sensations other than pain flooded him. Working his dick a little harder and faster, he reached low with his other hand and pulled on his sac. “Gah!” Beyden yelled, breaths coming furiously now even as fantasy-Jasminka lifted the flowery sheath completely from her body.

  Beyden moaned, hips thrusting, forcing his slick dick deeper into his palm. One part of him felt a little rude for picturing the doctor so intimately while jacking off. But the part that was currently in control only cared about the pleasure-pain between his legs and the orgasm approaching with the force of a hurricane. Fantasy-Jazz chose that moment to tweak her dark nipples and Beyden came hard with a shout, his seed coating the clear glass in front of him. He whimpered a little as he continued to stroke himself, his still hard flesh beginning to feel over-sensitive even as it continued to leak evidence of his release.

  “Fuck,” Beyden whispered. He was a man who rarely swore, but the shaking in his legs and the pounding of his heart warranted something a little more than his usual tame vocabulary. He was sure that may have just been the best orgasm of his entire life – and he was flying solo!

  So focused on the pleasure still pinging through his system he barely heard the squeak from a feminine mouth, but the swirl of colour caught his attention from the corner of his eye. There, standing just outside the very see-through glass shower screen, was none other than Jasminka. Beyden dropped his dick, mouth falling open in shock and mortification. Because judging by the glazed look of wonder on the woman’s face, Beyden was face-to-face with the real Jasminka.

  Jasminka cleared her throat, “I, ah, I came back to give you your pain injection. I forgot it before.” She coughed. “I guess you don’t need it now?”

  “No!” Beyden barked, “I don’t need it. Thank you.” He spoke quickly and loudly. Anything to get her to leave so he could die of mortification in private.

  Jasminka nodded, eyes skimming over his body before jerking to his. “Right. Um, well, I’ll just ...” she pointed to the door, turning and running directly into it with a loud thump.

  Beyden heard her swear but didn’t open his eyes until he heard his bedroom door slam as well. He leaned back against the wet tiles, banging his head repeatedly in a steady motion. Dear gods! I just wanked off in front of Jasminka! In normal circumstances, he might have found the scenario hot – he was far from a prude in the bedroom. But this was Jasminka! The woman was his doctor as well as someone he had to live with for the foreseeable future. He even had to look her in the eyes and everything. I can’t do it, he thought. I can never look her in the eyes again. Unsure what to do with himself, because time travel unfortunately was not an option, he proceeded to finish his shower and get on with his plan to talk to the others. Perhaps the Great Mother would see fit to cut him some slack and Jasminka would suddenly develop amnesia like his liege.

  It would be later – much later – when Beyden would realise his leg hadn’t hurt even once during the epic shower scene.

  TWO

  Jasminka swiped a hand under her nose, expecting to see blood from where she had face-planted into the door, but thankfully her hand was blood-free. She slumped back against the wall next to Beyden’s room, sure her legs wouldn’t allow her to walk the short distance to her own room yet. Holy wow! She fanned herself because she felt flushed all over. And she did mean all over, she thought as she clenched her legs tightly together. Beyden was built – like, seriously built. But then, all of the men in the house were. And the women weren’t half bad either, she admitted.

  Jazz had been more than a little wary when she had first arrived. Walking into a house filled with beautiful, immortal, ancient knights who were responsible for guarding the world’s caretakers, had been somewhat intimidating. But she had grown up with the most overbearing personalities possible and was more than equipped to handle the sad and broken group. It hadn’t taken her long to analyse the natures of those around her, and though they were all striking to look at, her only flare of true attraction was toward the giant of a man currently panting in the shower behind her.

  Jazz shook her head, wondering for the millionth time how her life had changed so much in such a short time. But then one word popped into her head and she had her answer; Max. Whenever her old friend was on the scene, Jasminka found her life at a crossroads. But she owed Max more than she could ever repay, so when the redhead had asked her to come and play doctor with a bunch of supernatural beings who humans were completely clueless about, Jazz had quit her job, packed her bags and been on the road that very day. She had been just as heartbroken as the others to discover that Max wasn’t in the beautiful house when she had arrived. But unlike the others, she’d had faith that Max would soon return. Max had warned her that shit was going to hit the fan but she had promised she would be back and that everything would work out in the long run. Jazz had believed her. Because Max never broke her promises.

  Her entry into the world had been rather seamless and though she was still in awe of the whole warden/paladin notion, she felt comfortable around the magical humans in a way she didn’t fully understand. The scientist in her was itching to take blood samples, monitor brain waves and conduct x-rays, just to see what made all the pretty people around her tick. But the decent woman in her knew now wasn’t the time – and perhaps it would never be – for such things. After all, she had been there for six weeks now. She had seen their grief and joy, delivered a baby, watched as they cooked dinner and cleaned the house. It was Jazz’s conclusion that they were just as human as she was. The scene she had just witnessed only served to prove that theory more. They masturbate, Jasminka thought, Beyden masturbates!

  Jazz blew out a breath, the air stirring the dark layers of her fringe and she pushed her glasses to the top of her head once more. The visual aids were actually just for show these days. She no longer needed to wear them – a fact that baffled her endlessly. But they were a habit and also a fashion accessory that she loved. Growing up short-sighted, she had been forced into glasses from the age of four. Unfortunately for poor young Jasminka, she had only been allowed to wear sensible, plain wire-rimmed glasses for the next thirty years. But after shedding her old skin, she adopted the colourful frames and could admit they were like a safety blanket for her.

  Her glasses weren’t the only things that were colourful, Jazz acknowledged as she gave walking a try. Making her way down the hallway, she smiled to herself as she gripped the orange and red fabric of her long dress in her hand. Growing up, she had been restricted to wearing black slacks and white button shirts. Plain underwear, stretchy innocuous beige bras, and sensible black shoes were her daily wardrobe choices. The colourful dresses, pretty underwear, and going braless and shoeless most of the time had started as an act of defiance. But Jasminka had been pleasantly surprised to discover she loved the feminine, vibrant outfits, and they were now all that she owned. In fact, just the thought of wearing pants again made her feel a little nauseous.

  Flicking her right wrist over, she checked the time on her sparkly watch; 7am. She figured she had a few minutes before the household started waking up in earnest and the kitchen would be full of the aforementioned beautiful people. Jasminka snorted, wondering how the morning was going to play out now. Was Beyden going to hide himself in his room after his little shower scene? Jazz sure hoped not. She had gotten used to seeing the tanned man with the lion’s eyes several times a day. Sure, her visits and their conversations were always couched in professional interest, but she could admit to herself that her feelings were beginning to move beyond professional concern. And also beyond mere attraction. Though, having witnessed Beyden gripping his amazing erection and bringing himself to completion had certainly added fuel to that particular fire, she admitted.

  Flopping back on her meticulously made bed, Jasminka frowned as she allowed her thoughts to wander over her feeli
ngs for the paladin. The man hurt, she knew, and watching him hurt caused her pain. It could only mean one thing; she liked the guy. More than just liked him if the depth of her concern and the constant presence of him on her mind was anything to go by. She had never been in this position before – no real crushes to speak of even though she was on the wrong side of middle age. She may not have past her experiences to draw on, but she was smart and self-aware. She knew what the warm, squishy feelings meant. And she was becoming increasingly worried and upset by Beyden’s emotional and mental health.

  Everyone had assured her that Beyden was always happy, respectful, and polite. He was affiliated with the element of Beast and was a reflection of that element; patient, loyal, selfless, and kind. There were certainly flashes of those qualities in the man she had gotten to know but they were few and far between. She knew the man had to heal – both physically and emotionally – from the huge battle that had taken place not even two months prior. But she was beginning to worry he was plateauing. The thought bothered her and she decided to give Beyden a bit more time before she implemented her numerous back-up plans.

  Yes – she had more than one. In her line of work, it paid to always be prepared and to always have more than one possible solution. People didn’t fit into the same sized boxes and she had quickly learned that treating them needed to be undertaken in the same way. Each individual needed to be treated as such; with understanding and a plan unique to them. A part of her was impatient to set her plan in motion, but she had to give Beyden the benefit of the doubt.

  It irked her to no end that she couldn’t help relieve Beyden’s pain. After leaving her prestigious job at John Hopkins she had worked all over the world with The World Health Organisation and Doctors Without Borders. She had worked in refugee camps and war zones and seen her fair share of traumatic injuries. But she had never seen anything like the rotting, infected wound on Beyden’s leg. The initial injury had been horrifying and severe and there were moments during the first emergency surgery when amputation had been a real possibility. But she had persevered and managed to save the leg. To be honest, she was astounded at the man’s swift rate of recovery – though she knew he didn’t think it was. As a paladin she knew their rate of healing far surpassed normal humans, to the extent of almost always complete healing as well as longevity. But to her, the fact that he could even stand was a miracle in itself. Too bad the big grumpy bear didn’t see it that way.

  Thinking of him as a big cuddly bear made her smile and she hoped the man might start to assert himself a little more after the gentle scolding she had given him regarding Max. Besides, despite the circumstances, she was enjoying getting to know him. Maybe it wasn’t all of him, all at once. Or even the real him, but she found herself liking the trickle of information. It was like a slowly dripping tap, rather than a waterfall. At her age and because her journey of self-discovery had come so late in life, the one attribute she did possess was patience. She didn’t mind slow trickles.

  With that thought, Jazz pushed herself up and off the bed. Forgoing shoes, she made her way to the hub of the house; the kitchen. A tentative peek revealed a half a dozen bodies, but not the one she yearned to see. Reminding herself of her patient nature, she plastered a smile on her face and hoped the morning wasn’t going to be one big hunk of awkward. After all, the name Beyden had shouted from his lips at the height of his pleasure had been Jasminka.

  Jazz shuddered, her brain misfiring and showing her images of herself and the large knight rolling around naked together on a continuous loop. Patience, she reprimanded herself. She needed to find a way to fix Beyden’s body before she could work on his heart.

  THREE

  Using a cane, Beyden slowly made his way down the stairs and toward the sounds of activity emanating from the kitchen. He clenched his teeth and stopped to catch his breath at the bottom of the stairs. It had been a point of pride for him to stay in his own room during his convalescence. Ryker had wanted him to stay downstairs in the makeshift infirmary but Beyden had refused. He was going to go up and down those stairs even if it killed him – which it hadn’t ... yet. Unfortunately, the extra exercise also hadn’t done anything to help either.

  Upon entering the kitchen, he looked around and saw the entire Order. He wasn’t sure if they should still be calling themselves that, given the link that bound their vitality and their souls together as an unstoppable unit was broken. Maybe the old Beyden was still in there somewhere because he was clinging to the hope that the bond would be re-established and he would wake once more in the night to a tattoo that moved and tickled on his flesh. Covertly eyeing the room, he saw that even Dex and his sister, Ivy, were there. And – to his eternal horror – Jasminka, who was sipping what he knew would be tea. Like Max, Jazz unnaturally didn’t like the taste of coffee. It was the only thing he could find fault in. Everything else he had seen and heard about the doctor, he liked. And maybe more than liked, he could easily admit to himself. After all, at the moment he was entirely alone with his thoughts. The telepathic link with the people in front of him was also broken. Noting the only ones missing were Max, baby Maxwell, Mordecai and his paladins – who had become a permanent fixture in the house – he thought it just might be serendipitous timing.

  “Where’s Max?” he asked.

  Ryker grunted and scowled into his coffee but didn’t answer. Beyden winced in sympathy. As hard as life was for him at the moment, he knew it was a hundred times harder for Ryker. His soulmate had been ripped from him, his link to his Order severed, wardens and paladins alike were holding him responsible for the brief but bloody battle six weeks ago, and to top it all off, the love of his life and the reason for his beating heart had returned but continued to look at him like he was a stranger. That vacant look cut Beyden to the core and he could only imagine what it did to his Captain. For the first time since waking up with a ruined leg, he limped slowly to the other man using his cane and placed a hand on that still-strong back.

  Ryker startled so badly he spilled coffee over the rim of his mug and all over his hand. Swearing heartily, Ryker shook the hot liquid free before peering incredulously up at Beyden. “Beyden?” he asked, sounding stunned.

  Beyden grimaced, realising his grumpy, depressed arse must be worse than he thought if such a good friend was shocked by such a small gesture of comfort. For someone who was widely known for his sunny disposition, he was fast turning into a real arsehole. Yes, he blamed his war wound and its associated ongoing pain, but deep down he knew that was just an easy excuse. He knew he was responsible for his own emotions and behaviours. It was something his mother had instilled into both of her children. But it had never been this hard for him to pull himself out of a funk before. Even when he was ostracised by society and deemed unfit as a paladin – thanks to his old buddy, Trent – he hadn’t felt this suffocating weight of hopelessness. The morose feelings seemed to come and go in waves with alarming regularity and were sometimes accompanied by a headache. It really sucked.

  Recognising he was once again allowing his thoughts to spiral and repeat the same old crap, he determinedly switched gears and thought instead of what Jasminka had said that morning about Max.

  “She’s with Maxwell and Mordecai. I’m having a baby-free breakfast and there isn’t anyone I trust more with my little man than those two. Mordecai is amazing with him, and Max is, well, a goddess.” Cali explained, answering Beyden’s earlier question.

  Dex cleared his throat, “Are you sure there isn’t someone else you trust more than anyone?”

  Cali smiled and patted her fiancé’s cheek, “Of course I trust you first, sweetheart. You’re his daddy. The best daddy ever!” She then turned to Diana and waved her hand under the table in the classic gesture for ‘kind of’. Diana burst into laughter and Beyden felt his own lips twitch. He watched as Dex growled and a burst of warm air rushed through Cali’s hair, displacing the blonde strands, and causing her to sputter. There was no doubt his friends were slowly healing. Now, if
only he could do the same and if they could make it happen for Max too.

  Beyden cleared his throat, “Good. I’m glad she’s not here. I actually wanted to talk to you all about her.”

  The atmosphere suddenly became wary and oppressive, causing Beyden to swallow hard in regret. He was a beast paladin, affiliated with all creatures great and small. Yet, even he felt the heavy weight of despair and fear in the room. How must someone with a link to all seven elements feel? And someone with no memory and no knowledge of how to combat them? Beyden knew the others had been working relentlessly to help Max erect her shields once more and re-learn everything about her powers and the society she once again found herself dumped into. He had been little to no help in that department in the weeks since Max’s return, and he scowled down at his injured leg in anger once more, placing the blame there.

  Though it was heart wrenching to witness a different version of their Max, thankfully the situation wasn’t exactly the same as it had been when Max experienced her first round of memory loss. Back then, Max had said she couldn’t even read or write, with the most basic of things being foreign to her. Now, although she had no memory of who or what she was, no recollection of her Order or even Ryker, and no clue as to how to use her powers, she at least retained knowledge of the world around her. She knew how to talk, and what a computer was, and that she didn’t like coffee. Sure, she had no idea what a custodian or a warden was, and she didn’t recognise them as family. But at least she wasn’t young and alone this time. Small mercies, Beyden thought.