Page 119 of Bruised MC Bear

She looked over at him as though she was carefully weighing the pros and cons of each option. “Hmmm. Can I trust you to be a gentleman?”

“There is only one way to truly answer that, Kiera. And it is not with words.”

“How do you mean?”

Looking into her jade green eyes, he stepped forward, slipped his hand to the back of her neck, and lowered his face to hers. She opened her mouth to whisper something, but he stopped her with a fierce kiss, taking her mouth as though she was already his. Kiera’s hands wrapped around his waist, gripping his back tightly, yielding to every swish of his tongue as he explored her mouth. He pulled her deeper into the kiss, moving one hand down her side until he felt the rise of her hips. She was whimpering, gasping for air, and if he went any further he would have to take her right here, right now, against a wall or on a nearby table so he could taste every inch of her.

Pulling slowly from the kiss, he released her and did not say another word. He turned and headed to the back exit to start their walk to the camps. Kiera caught up to him a few seconds later. Her breathing was still winded, and her face was more flushed than before. She did not speak or take another look in his direction until they were close to the camp.

“Are you…upset?” he asked when they arrived at the gates of his camp.

“Only that you stopped,” she admitted without looking his way.

He took her arm and led her past the gate, leaning over to whisper, “The day is young, pretty little witch.”

Xander showed her some of the common areas as they made their way around. She seemed keen to learn their ways, and asked questions that mostly pertained to the trainees.

“Was the camp always set up with cabins?” she asked after some time.

“No. It still is not.” He pointed to the garrison. “That two-story structure is one of the main barracks where the low-ranking soldiers live. It would not be as unbearable for them if they didn’t have to live there year-round. Minassus does not give a damn about these men, other than how effective they are at protecting the Sector.”

“What if he were to approve homes like where the witches’ craftsmen live?”

“It would help, but many of us would prefer to return to our homes, at least during the warm months. Although I would be the first to admit I find the inside of a house so hot now. I make a point of taking a sleeping bag whenever I visit my mother, just so I can sleep outside.”

“I used to enjoy the outdoors before. Now, I am always inside. I spend so much of my day in the library or conjuring rooms…although that may change.”

“Let me show you some more of the reinforced ravager barriers and traps we have been working on for this winter season.”

“Great,” Kiera said, seeming grateful for the change of subject.

He took her to the west side of camp, where small groups of men sat at several wooden tables. “These are some of the weapons production stations. Most of the larger traps are already installed around the island, but we will continue building until the first winter storm.” He stopped at one of the stations. “The soldiers here are using carpenter tools to sharpen the ends of long straight branches and smaller tree logs, each about a foot thick. At the next station, the team ties several of them together in a hexagon formation, primarily so they don’t break under the ravagers’ weight. Other men from the troops dig eight-foot trenches outside the barrier walls, and these spikes are placed facing away from the outer walls at a forty-five-degree angle trenches.”

“Do they trap the ravagers?”

“No. These bundles are not traps. They slow the savages down. We use light, netted fabric to cover and camouflage the sharp ends, and because they attack at night, many of them will not see what they walk into until it is too late.”

“Impressive.”

“We also use narrower logs for…I will show you over there.”

“Okay.”

“Stand back.” He pulled her a few feet back from the center of the next station, and picked up a rock the size of an egg, passing it to her. “Toss this rock anywhere along that section of camouflage on the ground over there.” She did, and the instant its weight landed on the spot, spikes rose up through the fabric in a crisscrossed X-pattern, with rows of barbed wire strung between them. “If a ravager steps on these traps, they get all tangled up in the wire. Some spikes will pierce their legs, and some of the wretches will fall. Even if they do not fall, they end up confused or disoriented. That gives us a few extra seconds for shifters to attack in groups.”

“Ingenious. How many of them have your men built?”

“A few hundred. It is not near enough for an island this size, but we plan to place them at the most common points where the ravagers typically enter.”

“Smart.”

“I’ll show you the training grounds next.”

“Sure.”

“After we are finished there, you should have something to eat at my cabin. I have a meeting, but it will not be for very long.”

“I brought some food and water with me today. And not a problem about your meeting. I can wait.”