Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (49 page)

Wynhod raised an eyebrow.  “When you ran past the camp, there was only you followed by a ronka.  I saw no sign of a zibger.”

“Damn it, Wynhod, why would I run from a ronka?”

“It was a particularly fierce-looking ronka.  The vicious beast stood at least four feet tall, with big, soft brown eyes and a nice wooly winter coat.  Maybe you were afraid it wanted to cuddle you to death.”

The pair carried on with such stories for several hours until Krijero’s still-mending guts ached from laughter.  He slept well that night, with only one nightmare interrupting his rest.

The next day, his fathers returned from viewing Benor’s execution.  Rotak nodded to Gelan and Wynhod.

“I think you would have been pleased by the way it they carried it out.  The executioners came to us afterward and told us they were shown the vid of Benor attacking Krijero during negotiations.  It gave them adequate inspiration in carrying out the sentence.”

Tasja also seemed well satisfied.  “Dramok Benor was rendered helpless in a suspension field and injected with his own pain-enhancing drug, the same substance he used on Krijero.  Right up until the first blow, Benor seemed to think the execution wasn’t going to actually happen.”

The corners of Rotak’s mouth twitched a little.  His look was merciless.  “When it did, he finally understood he was not so untouchable after all.  They made him scream until his voice gave way.  He kept trying to scream for a long time afterward.  They hurt him until he finally bled out.  They were very good at making it last.  It took hours.”

“The only sadness is that Krijero and others suffered so much at that man’s hands.  But I am content.  Benor will not hurt anyone else, and my son will recover.”  Tasja’s gaze was warm on Krijero.

“Are you also satisfied with the manner of Benor’s punishment, Nobek Rotak?” Wynhod asked the elder man.

“I am.  My only complaint is that I was not allowed to deal any of it myself.”

Both Gelan and Wynhod nodded.  The Dramok said, “If your judgment is that sentence was passed properly, then we are pleased.  Thank you.”

Krijero looked from his two fathers to his lovers.  The four men spoke with formality about the proceedings, as if all recognized him as the Imdiko of Clan Gelan.  He kept his expression from betraying the emotions churning in his heart.

He had no more nightmares after that.

Following Benor’s execution, there was only the seeming relentless grind of rehabilitation exercises with rest and recovery days scattered throughout.  The therapy continued to hurt and exhaust Krijero.  On days he had to endure treatment, the Imdiko sometimes fell asleep before his hover chair got him back to his private room where parents and lovers waited.  When they woke him for meals, he was often too groggy to do much more than swallow what they gave him before falling back asleep.

As the weeks passed, however, his strength returned.  Little by little, he was able to do more and for longer.  The therapy didn’t wear on him so much.  It didn’t hurt as bad.  Outright pain became throbs.  Throbs became aches.  One by one, the aches began to disappear.

Four months after Benor’s execution, the clinic released Krijero.  He needed supervision for the next few weeks still. 

Dir who told him he had two options as they sat alone together.  “You can come home with your fathers and I until you’ve completely recovered.  You should know that Gelan and Wynhod received approval for another clanmate-care leave if you choose to stay with them instead.”

Krijero blinked.  “But you want me to go with you, right?”

Dir stood and came to the chair where he sat.  She pushed his hair back behind his ears and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.  “I want you to go where you want to be.  You know better than anyone where that is, though I think I have a pretty good idea.”

He smiled at her.  “Thank you, my mother.”

She stroked his face.  “The heart is meant to be filled, Krijero.  Don’t keep yours empty.  My son deserves his chance at happiness.”

* * * *

Krijero padded through the home on bare feet, having finished his exercises.  He felt pretty good.  His doctors had told him during his checkup today that they believed he’d be ready to return to work in two weeks.  It had been a long haul to get back, but he was nearly there.

The house was quiet, but he thought he knew where to find the others.  He stepped into the sleeping room and looked through the archway right in front of him.  Just as he’d suspected, Gelan and Wynhod were out on the balcony, leaning against the railing, mohawk-shaved head leaned close to braided head as they talked quietly to each other.

Almost two months ago, Krijero’s mother had told him the heart was meant to be filled.  His was full right now.  It had been so since waking from his coma to find Gelan and Wynhod at his side.  They had been his strength when he’d had none.  They were his friends and so much more.

This day marked a year since he’d been attacked and nearly died.  Since the two men had saved his life and his soul.  Krijero didn’t think many would celebrate the anniversary of the worst time of their lives, but he’d often done things that few understood.  He would be always awkward, always clumsy, always Krijero.  He still found it hard to accept anyone would want someone like him for always, but he could at least acknowledge now that there was a chance of it happening.

He stepped out onto the balcony to join the Dramok and Nobek.  The thin top and loose pants he wore to exercise in were no match for the biting cold, and he shivered.  Gelan and Wynhod turned at the same moment to look at him with nearly identical smiles on their dissimilar features. 

Gelan took Krijero’s arm as he drew near and tugged him between himself and Wynhod so he could share their warmth.  “You should have a coat and shoes on, Imdiko.”

“I didn’t realize it had gotten so cold.”

Wynhod’s arm slid around his waist.  “First snow will be coming soon.  We’ll have to get our skis ready.”

Krijero’s skis were back in his apartment.  The apartment he’d been in a year ago today.  At this moment one year ago, he’d been only minutes away from opening his door to two men who hadn’t survived that night.  Even before then, it had been the home he shared with Pertak.  He thought of how small and cramped his government-issued lodgings were.  It was a tiny space, barely big enough to hold his possessions, yet it was the emptiest place he could think of.

He shook his hair back, baring the face that he’d been told was sweetly handsome. Gelan had insisted he was beautiful. Wynhod had even called him cute.  Krijero didn’t know if that was true, but he once more looked as he had before he’d been beaten and cut.

His hair moved away, exposing his face, and it didn’t bother him.  It never did nowadays, especially with Gelan and Wynhod.

Krijero tucked errant strands behind his ears for good measure before turning his uncovered face to Gelan.  When the Dramok looked back, his purple eyes warm, Krijero said, “I don’t want to go home.”

Wynhod’s arm around his waist tightened just a bit.  Gelan stared into Krijero’s eyes for a moment before saying in a careful voice, “You are home, my Imdiko.  All you have to do is say yes.”

For an instant the old fears rose; that Gelan and Wynhod would someday not look at him the way they did now, that the love and caring would fade to be replaced by distance and regret.  He’d learned, however, that ‘someday’ might not come.  He also knew he couldn’t leave them, no matter what might change in the future.  His heart was full, and he never wanted it to be empty again.

“Yes.  I want to stay here as your clan’s Imdiko.” 

Gelan smiled at the firmness in Krijero’s tone.  “I accept.  Welcome to my clan.”

Wynhod rolled his head back to peer at the stars overhead.  “Finally.”  Then he frowned and looked at Gelan.  “Do it right, so there’s no question that this is binding.”

Gelan chuckled, but he quickly to complied with the Nobek’s urging.  “Imdiko Krijero, will you join my clan?”

Krijero didn’t bother muting the big smile spreading over his lips.  “Yes, Dramok Gelan.”  He then turned his gaze to Wynhod.  “Does that work for you, my Nobek?”

Wynhod answered with a kiss that tasted of passion.  He kissed Krijero until the Imdiko’s knees went soft and he moaned in need.  Only then did Wynhod break the kiss. He swept Krijero in his muscled arms as if he weighed nothing and carried him in the sleeping room.  A grinning Gelan followed them into the warmer environs of the house.

“I’m not a child,” Krijero grouched, though he secretly appreciated the power display.  Feeling Wynhod’s strength was a bit of a turn-on.

“I never said you were, my Imdiko.”  Wynhod seemed to relish calling him the familiar term.  “I simply wanted to rescue your poor, shivering body from the cold.”

Krijero rolled his eyes as Gelan snickered at the overdone sappiness.  Wynhod put both himself and the Imdiko on the sleeping mat.  Gelan climbed on the other side of Krijero, sandwiching him between the two most delightful bodies he knew.  He snuggled, making silly sounds of contentment to make them both laugh.

“You know, I have been declared healthy enough for sex,” Krijero told them. 

Gelan pretended to be affronted.  “Are you saying we haven’t met your needs on a regular basis since you were released from the rehab center?”

“I’m feeling insulted,” Wynhod said, sticking his lower lip out in a pout.  The feral Nobek attempting to sulk was one of the most ridiculous things Krijero had ever seen, and he put his hand over Wynhod’s face so he could stop laughing at it.

When the Imdiko had recovered, he told them, “Of course you have, and don’t think I didn’t appreciate it.”

“Damn straight you did.”  Gelan gave his butt a very light slap.

“But I can have real sex again. Everything is healed and healthy.”

The other two were quiet for a few seconds.  The Gelan curled his body around Krijero’s to hold the Imdiko close.  “We know.  And it’s not that we don’t want to.”

“Because we really, really do,” Wynhod said.

“You were so broken, Krijero.  So near death.  Through all these months, I’ve thought of how close we came to losing you, before we could convince you to become ours.”  Gelan’s grip on him tightened.  “I never want to feel that again, my Imdiko.  So I guess that’s why I’m finding it difficult to be anything but absolutely careful with you.”

Before Krijero could reply to that, Wynhod spoke up.  “I thought you were dead.  When Benor shot at you, I knew how close that blaster was to your face.  And what went through my mind was ‘Krijero’s dead’ over and over.  It felt like my own life had ended.  My spirit disappeared in that moment.”  His eyes met the Imdiko’s.  “I don’t want you hurt ever again.”

“Then I’ll tell you when you’re about to cross that line,” Krijero said.  His gaze went from Wynhod to Gelan.  “Both of you.  But you do have to remember I have a high threshold for pain and I like my pleasures intense.”

Gelan chewed on his lip.  “I know we should try.  It’s a difficult thing, my Imdiko.”

Wynhod nodded.  “What once came so naturally is daunting now.”

Krijero sighed.  “I can understand it.  After all, it’s been a year since I got to enjoy a real fuck.  I’m not sure how any of it works after all this time.  But I am the Imdiko, and if I remember correctly, that means I get to dominate the other two submissive beta breeds.”  He shoved at the two.  “Okay.  Clothes off and put your asses in the air, boys.”

He rolled up and swept his shirt off over his head with a grin.  The other two stared at him, the looks on their faces telling Krijero they hadn’t quite grasped what he’d just said.  He began to shake with suppressed laughter as he pushed his pants down his hips and thighs.  Because he was Krijero, he managed to get the trousers caught around his knees, leading him to flop about the sleeping mat in a totally undignified manner as he tried to pull them the rest of the way off.  By the time he managed that, he was chortling out loud, lying on his back and laughing towards the ceiling.

A hand slid around his throat and Gelan’s face appeared over his.  The Dramok smiled, but it was not a nice smile.  It was the kind of smile that put crystals of ice in Krijero’s veins and heat in his belly.  He stopped laughing.

“Did you just call me a beta?” Gelan asked, the sweetness in his tone more dangerous than any growl could ever be.

“Oh.”  Krijero was very aware of the warmth of the hand against his throat.  Gelan did not choke him.  He only displayed his power in a way that had Krijero instinctively raising his chin.  Something else started to rise as well.  “Ah, that whole beta thing was a joke.”

Wynhod’s dark visage joined Gelan’s.  “A joke.  Yes, it must have been, because I see only one of us naked and on his back beneath the two so-called ‘betas’.”

“Yeah, that would be me,” Krijero agreed.  His heart hammered fast, and he knew Gelan had to feel his pulse.  His cocks twitched and began to fill.  “I’m well aware you’re both alphas.  Badasses to the core.  I bow before your might.”

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up,” Gelan said, his scary smile never wavering.  “Although I know you’re just pushing our buttons to get the sexual response you’re hoping for.”

“Did it work?”

Wynhod snorted.  “How many Nobeks and Dramoks do you know put up with being called betas?  Of course it worked, so enjoy your reward.”  His eyes narrowed.  “But if something – anything starts to really hurt—”