* * *
BY THE PALE, TIGHT LOOK on her face,
Rhaekhar knew her meeting had not gone well. He suppressed a sigh. If she felt
his impatience to return to the Plains, then she would only feel more guilt and
frustration that she kept him from his duties as Khul.
Muttering, Varne shook his head. “Why
doesn’t Dharman simply gut them all?”
Amused, Rhaekhar agreed, noting the grim
slant to her First Blood’s mouth and his white-knuckled grip on his
rahke
. Each of her Blood glowered at any
and all outlanders, frustrated by their inability to punish those who didn’t
support their Khul’lanna wholeheartedly. That so many of them plotted to murder
her infuriated them all.
Even when Khul approached his mate they
were slow to make way and allow him to touch her. As soon as she stepped foot
on Green Land soil, the assassins attacked each and every day. Rhaekhar could
forgive her Blood much as long as they kept her alive and well.
“A tough
kae’don
, my heart?” Rhaekhar cupped her cheek in his hand, stroking
his thumb tenderly over her lip. “May I challenge any of your Council this
day?”
“No,” she grumbled, burying her face
against him. He felt her breathe deeply and immediately some of the tension
eased from her shoulders. “If I let you kill everyone who disagreed with me,
they’d all be dead.”
“Perhaps you need a change in strategy.”
She raised her face, her gaze narrowed
in thought.
“You have tried well-reasoned arguments
and bargains with men who have no honor.” Rhaekhar couldn’t keep the distaste
out of his voice and didn’t try to hide it. She knew very well what each trip
to the Green Lands meant to him, to her Blood, to any warrior used to wearing
his honor and pride for all to see. These people had no understanding of honor.
How could they, when they wished their own Queen dead? “You are a warrior at
heart, Shannari dal’Dainari. Challenge them in a way they don’t expect.”
“I can’t whip out my
rahke
and cut them into agreeing with
me.” Mouth quirked, she shook her head. “They’re not warriors. They wouldn’t
understand it, and certainly couldn’t meet me likewise.”
“I didn’t mean a
kae’rahke
,
na’lanna
,
although I admit I find the thought amusing.” His warrior woman was fierce with
a blade. He proudly bore many scars from her
rahke
, as did her Blood. “You attempt a Market Day with curs who
simply shred and gnaw your hides, oblivious to the goods you offer.”
“When you bargain with Shadow, all are
compromised.” At Rhaekhar’s surprised glance, Varne flushed. His nearest Blood
had always been most vocal in his disapproval of an outlander Khul’lanna, so
any word of wisdom was most unexpected. “Toss a bone among them, and they tear
each other apart. It’s folly to linger among them.”
Dharman gave Khul’s nearest Blood a
gruff nod. “I agree. Give us the word, Khul’lanna, and we shall eliminate them
all.”
“You cannot force them to respect me.”
Shoulders drooping, she rubbed her eyes. “I must win this
kae’don
myself, but Lady help me, I’m losing.” Bitterly, she
sharpened her voice. “I hate losing.”
Rhaekhar’s heart went out to her. All
day she hid her emotions and fears, constantly wearing that proud mask he had
come to despise. He dreaded each trip to the Green Lands. Not because of the
time away from his homeland, but for the cost she paid in pride. It was a
constant drain on her spirit to be here among her own people, and that saddened
him more than he could say.
“Let us return to your room, my heart.”
Rhaekhar threaded her fingers in his and led her down the hallway. The twins
would put a smile on her face when nothing else could. “You have neglected to
join me for a Green Land bath this trip.”
She squeezed his hand and the heat in
her eyes squeezed his heart in turn. He had made love to her countless times,
but he would never weary of her passion. “I get to give you a massage this
time.”
“Your wish is my desire. However,
whatever you do to me, I—”
“Get to do to me, I know.” She laughed
softly and leaned into him, rising on her tiptoes. He obliged by leaning down
so she could whisper in his ear. “I bet I can make you lose control.”
“You challenge me,
na’lanna
.” The rumble in his voice made her eyes darken, her lush
mouth softening as she dropped her gaze to his lips. “I accept.”
Dharman bumped into her, smashing her
fully against Rhaekhar. Thinking the lad meant to insinuate himself into their
challenge, he growled a warning. If she had invited her Blood, Rhaekhar would
accept him without question, but he refused to tolerate a warrior’s
interruption, not even one as close and loved by her.
Turning toward Dharman, she opened her
mouth to take the lad to task, but the harsh look on his face stalled her
retort. He gripped her close, tucking her against him while backing them both
tightly against Rhaekhar. Someone cried out and the Blood didn’t hesitate. He
took her to the ground and covered her protectively with his body.
Rhaekhar let her go else find himself on
the cold tile as well. His own Blood pressed closer but Varne’s manner of
protection was much different.
Rahke
in hand, he took up stance shoulder to shoulder with Khul and the other eight
Blood, wary but not alarmed. They all knew to whom any threat would be aimed,
and she was safe beneath her nearest Blood.
A crossbow bolt quivered in the wooden
doorframe, not a hand’s span from where her head and been moments ago.
Immediately, he glanced down at her, but he couldn’t see anything but her
Blood’s broad back covering her.
“Great Vulkar,” Rhaekhar ground out,
gripping his
rahke
but not drawing
it. There was no need. Her golden-haired Blood, Jorah, charged after the
assassin. “Will she never have any peace?”
Varne shook his head. “Not while she
returns to these Green Lands.”
Listening to her
na’lanna
bond, Rhaekhar searched for any hint of pain to make sure
she hadn’t been wounded. He trusted her Blood implicitly, and they would take
any wound to her body, no matter how small, as a grave failure. All Blood
possessed a fierce sense of honor, but Khul’lanna’s Blood extremely so. Only
lads when Vulkar had sent them to her side, they had never worn their own
kae’valda
and never would.
Until
she dies.
Rhaekhar pushed that horrible fear away.
He’d already sworn to die before her. If Vulkar called her home to His Clouds
early, Khul would ride at her side.
He felt a wrenching in her bond, an
unexpected emotion. At first, he thought she had picked up on his grim thoughts
of death, but Dharman jerked his attention down to her. Whatever he saw, the
lad dropped his body fully against hers instead of politely hovering above her.
There was no mistaking the surge of
physical response through her bond. Rhaekhar held his breath a moment, and then
let it out, slow and steady. He’d known this day would come eventually. She was
too close to her young Blood to ever deny them her heart and body for long.
That she’d made it so many years since she claimed them had astounded him.
He still didn’t like the thought. She
was
his
, his
na’lanna
and Khul’lanna. She carried his honor and had borne him
two children. That another warrior encroached on Khul’s woman sent a rush of…
Rhaekhar breathed deeply again. Not
jealousy or rage, not exactly. If she loved another, he would see to her need,
as he’d done with Gregar, but he’d been different. The laughing Shadowed Blood
had been his friend and protector for years before they even set eyes on the
outlander who would own their hearts.
Gregar had been his; Dharman would only
ever be hers.
A sense of finality washed over
Rhaekhar, and he felt a moment of weakness. His knees trembled enough that he
leaned his weight against the wall. He suddenly felt as old as his nearly forty
years, every
kae’don
and
kae’rahke
he’d battled, the scars he
carried, the sheer weight of honor he carried weighing him, dragging him.
Great
Vulkar
, he prayed silently.
I beg you, don’t call me home yet.
* * *
AFTER YEARS OF AGONIZED YEARNING, the
untouchable mated woman Dharman loved looked upon him as a warrior and not a
lad. Her lips pressed against his chest, her breathing ragged, her heart
pounding so hard in his head through the Blood bond that he couldn’t hear. He
managed to give a quick signal to Sal, alerting him to his own incapacitation
as her First Blood.
How could he think to protect her with
his blood pounding so hard his skull threatened to crack open? She arched
beneath him, and Dharman nearly died at her soft cry of desire. Tightening his
arms around her, he breathed the words against her lips. “At last.”
She shuddered, her fingers digging into
his back. Emotions tore through her, no secret to him through the bond. She was
shocked, afraid, guilty, her first thought of Khul and how he might feel. All
these emotions Dharman knew and expected. Yet overpowering it all was the
fierce ache in her body. That she would need him so much…
Him.
After all these years.
He couldn’t resist a slow rock of his
hips, giving her his weight, the grind of his hips against hers. She made a low
sound of need that rocked through his mind. Thick, sultry roses, heated by her
desire, clogged his nostrils.
She wants
me
.
Sal placed his palm on Dharman’s
shoulder, squeezing hard enough to help break through his physical instinct
that demanded a quick, hard thrust to claim her as his before she changed her
mind. He remembered their location, and most of all, the extremely close
presence of her mate. Before he could do anything, he must request permission
else find himself challenged by the greatest warrior on the Plains.
“All clear,” Sal murmured, his low voice
aching with yearning. Would she respond to him the same way?
As lads years ago, they had sworn an
oath in blood, deeper than brothers, deeper than Camp loyalty, deeper, even
than honor, for at the time, they’d possessed none. With Khul’lanna bleeding
and close to death on the ground between them, Dharman had known one thing and
sworn it to Sal.
Where he went, so too, did Sal. If she
didn’t want the red-haired Blood, Dharman would not go to Khul’s blankets,
either, no matter how much he wanted to love her.
Deliberately, Dharman rolled off to the
side and allowed the other Blood to assist her. Of course, Sal—as wicked and
salacious as Gregar had ever thought to be—took advantage of her rather dazed
and needy state. Sal backed her into the wall, shielding her with his body with
admirable determination that no assassin steel should touch her without first
sliding through his flesh.
Without even seeing her face, Dharman
knew the way her breath caught in her chest, her throat tight, the scent of
spice in her nose that felt as familiar to her as his own scent. Without
searching, her mouth found the mark on Sal’s throat that she’d placed an
eternity ago, her teeth in his throat, his blood hers to command.
Dharman stood and met Khul’s fierce
gaze. Squaring his shoulders with determination, he strode to him, ignoring the
glower of Khul’s Blood. He knew Khul had felt her response. No thought or need
passed through her mind and heart that her bonded warriors didn’t feel, whether
Blood or
na’lanna
or both. She simply
didn’t know it yet.
“Khul, may I challenge for right as
co-mate?”
“As soon as we return to the Plains.”
Khul replied curtly. “Sal, too?”
“Aye.” Despite his confidence, Dharman
felt a twinge of…not fear exactly, but wary respect. Khul would make him earn
the right to come to his blankets. The
kae’rahke
between Khul and Gregar before she’d accepted the Shadowed Blood was burned
into Dharman’s mind. “Where I go, he goes.”
Khul glanced at her. Relieved and
reassured that she would want him as much as his friend, Sal had backed off and
allowed her to push away from the wall. She stared at Khul, pale, her midnight
blue eyes large and dark with her emotions. Khul’lanna was not a woman to run
from any battle, no matter how grim, but this
kae’don
threatened to tear her apart. She gripped the
rahke
on her hip and thought seriously
about challenging both of her Blood.
Dharman sent some of his eagerness
through her bond and her eyes widened even more with alarm. A little blood
would only inflame them all the more.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, dropping her
gaze. Misery filled her, regret and anger and unwanted need wrenching her
heart, tangling her bonds into knots in her mind. After all these years of
serving as nearest Blood, Dharman had yet to understand her reluctance to admit
any love, let alone the love she felt for anyone but Khul.
“I will not pressure her this time,”
Khul said, drawing Dharman’s attention. At least Khul’s face had softened with
acceptance, touched with wry sympathy. “I forced her to admit her feelings for
Gregar, only because he swore he would not live long. I chose to bear her anger
rather than any long-held regrets that she’d never loved him as he deserved. I
won’t do it again.”