Alliance Forged (10 page)

“Except for the rebels, you’ll take all the
humans
and leave tonight. Go back to your city and tell your
Chosen
we no longer welcome his help.” Rystin avoided Lisella as she tried to touch him. “We’ll find our own place to live. By ourselves. Any
human
who comes near us does so at their own risk!”

“Rystin, no!” Lisella moved in front of the scout. “You have no right to decide this for all of us. Only Varian can do that. Ask him when he gets back…. We need to discuss this in a meeting.”

“All we’ve done in the last few months is talk! It’s a
human
custom!” He gestured to the bodies. “Look where it’s got us!”

“Hesia warned us there would be opposition, but she also told us we would make friends.”

“She might have been right once, but things have obviously changed since then.”

“These humans here are our friends.” Lisella gestured to those behind her. “You’ve taught Uwel how to track. You told me the other day he was one of your best students. Chelle shares your love of music. How many hours have you spent singing together by the campfire?”

The woman in question took a step toward Rystin, a trembling smile on her face. Arek admired her bravery, considering she stood much closer to the enraged warrior than many others. “I never imagined finding a friend whose passion equaled mine. It’d be sad to leave the village and end our friendship because of this.”

“Not everyone shares your feelings, Rystin,” another
Na’Chi
scout stated. A few near him nodded in support. “We should wait for Varian’s return.”

“What would Hesia advise us to do?” Lisella asked, her voice soft with compassion.

Longing mixed with regret flashed across Rystin’s face, the expression so fleeting Arek almost missed it. He held his breath. Whatever Rystin thought of humans, he hoped the memory of the
human-slave who’d risked her life to save the
Na’Chi
would influence his actions. A physical confrontation wouldn’t help any of them.

“Very well. We’ll wait for Varian to return.” The grudging reply still shook with anger, but the
Na’Chi
turned on his heel and crouched to gather the young lookout into his arms. “I’ll prepare them for burial.”

“We can help.” Arek steeled himself as that black gaze pierced him again. “Geanna and Eyan were our friends, too.”

A contemptuous sneer twisted Rystin’s lips. “We don’t need or want your help,
Light Blade
.”

He and his small group of
Na’Chi
disappeared with the bodies into the darkness beyond the firelight.

“Leave them be, Arek.” Lisella joined him, her violet eyes flecked with dark purple. She smoothed a hand along his arm to ease her warning. “I know you all feel as grieved by this as we do but, for now, it’s best if you and your warriors guard the rebels.” A worried frown creased her brow. “And pray Zaune or the others find Varian and Kymora by tomorrow.”

T
HE high-pitched trilling of a songbird woke Kymora. The sound strengthened, then faded, as if carried on a breeze. She inhaled deeply, the odor of wood smoke pleasant in the cool morning air. Soft fronds brushed her cheek, and for half a heartbeat, she wondered where her pillow was, then remembered she lay on the floor of a cavern on a makeshift bed of forest needles.

She frowned, expecting to be chilled by the morning air. Instead her front was warm, the reassuring sounds of a fire crackling and popping echoing off the cave walls, while the heated length of a body curled around hers staved off the cold along her back.

Varian
.

She shivered as she felt his warm breath against her neck, the soft exhalations only one of many sensations assaulting her.
Lady’s Breath
, every strong, well-toned inch of him was pressed against her.

From his bare chest, which she could feel rising and falling against her back, to the heavy hand resting on her waist, to his hips that
cradled hers so intimately that his maleness lay in the cleft of her buttocks. Even his long legs were bent to mimic her posture.

Her whole body flushed. Her breasts drew tight as a burning ache began in them and wound its way south. The sensation made her squirm. Varian’s manhood stirred, hardened. She froze. While she had very little experience with men, even semierect he seemed… amply endowed.

Mother of Mercy
, she’d never been this close to a naked man in her life. The summers she’d spent as a child skinny-dipping with Kalan and Arek on the shores of Sacred Lake certainly didn’t count. Waking up in the arms of a naked man was a whole new sort of experience, one she’d never indulged in, not even as an acolyte in the Temple.

Serving the
Lady
didn’t condemn her followers to a life of celibacy.
Her
teachings encouraged living life in the fullest sense, but as a student and then as
Temple Elect
, her studies and duties had taken precedence over any intimate relationship.

Kymora’s lips twisted in a wry smile. Maybe she should have… indulged. She could certainly use a little insight on what to do now. Especially after the conversation they’d had the previous evening.

And hadn’t that gone well? A shiver worked its way across her scalp. Varian had shut down faster than a trader during a market brawl. He’d rejected her overture with such steely coldness she’d almost been convinced of his sincerity. If she hadn’t felt the erratic flaring of his aura after she’d retreated from him, she’d have never been aware of his conflicting emotions. He hadn’t been as uncaring or as unaffected as he’d wanted her to believe.

She sighed softly.
Merciful Mother
, she’d been right to tell him the truth, but he hadn’t been ready to hear it, and pushing him wasn’t going to work. How many times had Kalan or her tutors warned her about being too direct? She grimaced.

What was he afraid of? His past had something to do with it, yet he wasn’t likely to enlighten her. Would asking Lisella or Zaune help? Meanwhile, acting on Varian’s interest would require subtlety. He offered her friendship. So there was something she could work with, and work with it she would.

Varian’s fingers tightened on her waist. “Kymora, are you awake?” His sleep-roughened whisper sent thousands of needlelike chills over her body and reminded her just how intimate a position they shared.

She swallowed. “Yes.”

How long had he been conscious? Would he mention anything about the beginnings of an erection she’d felt pressing against her a moment ago?

“It’s just after dawn.”

It seemed not. She sighed softly. Instead he moved away from her, and the absence of his body warmth had her biting her lip. Forest needles crunched as he pushed to his feet.

“If you feel up to it, we need to get back to the village.”

Why was he ignoring what he felt? She sat up, too, grimacing as her muscles protested. “I’m a little sore from the swim yesterday but I’ll be fine once I get moving again.”
Lady of Light
, awkwardness and hesitancy shouldn’t dictate the discussion of something as beautiful and natural as attraction. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

His short answer had her tilting her head, trying to gauge his disposition, but his monotone gave her little to go on. Nor could she sense anything from his aura.

Drawing her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them. “Is my dress dry?” Half a heartbeat later, the smooth knap of material brushed against her skin. “Thank you.”

She fumbled with it a little figuring out where the front was, then slipped it on. She heard Varian dressing as she laced the neckline. With a layer of clothing on, she felt a lot less vulnerable and more
able to tackle the conversation she knew they had to have. Whether it would be a one-sided exchange remained to be seen.

She cleared her throat. “Varian, about last night…”

“Kymora, just leave it be.”

The hardness in his voice was like an iron grate closing solidly in her face. She fiddled with the hem of her dress.

“I’m sorry if I pressured you when I shouldn’t have. Much like you, I tend to speak rather plainly.” She laced her fingers together to hide their shaking. “I’m not apologizing for speaking my heart, but I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

As expected, Varian didn’t respond. After a long moment, the warmth from the fire on her skin was cut off. The leather of his breeches creaked as he crouched between her and the flames. His familiar earthy scent filled her nostrils.

“You never know when to leave well enough alone, do you?” His soft whisper held an underlying thread of danger. Dark tendrils writhed at the edges of his aura; the harsh texture of them rasped against her mind.

Unbidden, a shiver raced up her spine. Her mouth dried. She started when his hand cupped her jaw. His thumb smoothed over her skin. Heat tingled where he touched her.

“Varian?” Even to her own ears, she sounded breathless.

“Shh.” He inhaled, then released the breath in a deep sigh. “The bruise on your face is as black as root moss.” He inhaled twice more before he spoke again. “If those renegades had crossed our path yesterday, I’d have killed them for doing this to you. No guilt. No second thoughts. No remorse.”

His voice had gone hard again, only this time with an anger so deep and menacing she’d have wet herself had it been directed at her. Again his thumb stroked her jaw with featherlightness, such a contrast. Her heart pounded so hard she wasn’t sure if it was in reaction to his admission or with arousal from his touch.

“That’s who I am, Kymora.”

Each word came saturated with a rawness that tore at her. Her thoughts jerked to a halt. Did he think she abhorred killing because of her religious views?

“Varian, protecting someone from harm isn’t wrong,” she assured him. “The
Lady
advises us to seek alternatives, but
She
doesn’t condemn deadly force, not when it means protecting the weak or innocent or helping someone in need.”

“Altruism wouldn’t be my intent for killing them.”

She fisted her fingers in the folds of her dress. Did he believe her a total innocent?

“I’m under no illusion you’d kill them with hatred in your heart.” Through his touch on her skin, she felt him start. “
Lady
forgive me, but if someone I cared about was hurt, my motives would be just as base.” She shrugged and gentled her tone. “I certainly don’t fault you for admitting this about yourself. That’s a part of being human.”

She used the phrase only as a figure of speech, but being referred to as human shook Varian to the core. If only it were true, then he’d be free to lean forward and brush his lips against hers, in thanks and with the desire rushing through his veins with every beat of his heart.

He stared at her moist, full lips, wanting to taste her so badly his innards burned. She tempted him as he’d never been tempted before. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, he grimaced at the lack of give in his breeches. She made him so hard, and without even being aware of it.

Long after she’d fallen asleep last night, he’d spent hours reminding himself to keep her at arm’s length. She was the
Lady’s
Handmaiden, an advocate of peace, a minister of tolerance and harmony, the light of her people.

His complete opposite.

Any relationship with her demanded trust and an openness he couldn’t afford to indulge in. It would expose her to the darkness inside him, the part of him he couldn’t live without. Not if he wanted to keep his people safe. But now, with the light of day, and her courage in the face of his opposition, his resolve crumbled like a bank of soil under flood.

He withdrew his hand, unsurprised to see his fingers trembling. She elicited that kind of reaction from him so easily it scared him. Her apology came from the misconception she’d caused his discomfort. He shook his head. He was his own worst enemy.

A strange scraping sound outside the mouth of the cave caught his hearing. Pivoting, he surged to his feet and took a step forward, placing himself between her and whatever threat lurked outside. He bit back a deep-throated growl, knowing the emotion originated from the half of him that relished the thought of killing the intruder.

“Varian?” Kymora’s query was barely a whisper. Her fingertips brushed his lower back before latching on to his shirt.

“Shh, there’s someone outside.” He guided her to the wall of the cave and placed her hand against it. “Stay here while I take a look.”

Watching where he put his feet, he crept toward the entrance. Bare hands wouldn’t be much of a weapon against an armed rebel. He found a fist-sized rock and hefted it. The lack of finesse in using such a weapon wouldn’t negate its intent. He’d done it before. Though vicious and messy, his goal would be achieved.

Carefully, he peered around the jagged edge, keeping to the darker side. The first light of the day glowed through the canopy, but the trees grew close together and blocked out most of the light. Shadows of differing shades cloaked the forest floor.

Disregarding the distraction of the leaves fluttering in the gentle morning breeze, he scanned the forest, lingering where the trunks were thickest and offered the most cover. The absence of bird and
wildlife in the vicinity betrayed the presence of someone. His nostrils flared as he detected not only the fresh scent of water from the river but one much more familiar.

Placing his weapon aside, he stepped into plain view. “Zaune?”

“Varian?” The hushed voice came from his left. The
Na’Chi
scout emerged from a thicket of bushes. The dark colors of his shirt and breeches were hard to distinguish from the shadows. He glanced over his shoulder. “Seralla, over here.”

A shorter, slender form emerged from the forest and picked her way around boulders and shrubs, covering the distance on silent feet. Zaune waited for the female Light Blade to draw level with him before they both made their way toward him.

“Are you all right, Varian?” Zaune asked. “We found where you and the
Temple Elect
went off the escarpment.”

“We’re both fine.” He raised his voice. “Kymora, it’s Zaune and Seralla.”