Drink of Me (33 page)

“No. That is unnecessary. I think you have survived enough humiliation for a single lifetime. Prime Reule, you may dispose of him as you see fit,” Lothas said with finality.

Knar squawked out a protest as Darcio eagerly awaited Reule’s choice. Reule reached out to pick up Mystique’s hand, kissed its back as he drew her to the warmth of his body.

“Come, let’s go to the Pack’s dining hall and see if we can’t repair our supper.” He encompassed the room with his eyes at the invitation. Then, finally, he looked to Darcio. “Join us afterward,” he invited him softly.

Reule led the others out of the guest hall, and Drago shut the doors on Knar and Darcio.

One Month Later…

“So, how was he today?”

“Better,” Mystique said with a smile. “Rye is a complex man. Something I didn’t give him enough credit for in the beginning, I believe. His charm blinds women to his depths. His way of keeping them, and others, at a proper distance.”

“Reule has been spending a lot of time with him,” Liandra pointed out as she emptied a freshly made salve into its proper jar. She had proven herself to have a knack for concocting medicines, and she liked passing her time doing it with her Prima as they chatted and discussed the happenings around Jeth.

“I know. It was a very hard thing for Reule to understand how Rye’s love and loyalty for him could be corrupted into a reason for hurting me. I think they have both learned a great deal about themselves and about each other. Rye will never love me the way he does Reule, and I don’t expect it. We have come to like each other again now that Rye has begun to deal with his guilt over Amando’s death. My husband worries still, but…”

“But he always worries. At least where you are concerned.”

“Rye won’t hurt me,” she insisted. “He’s well beyond that. In fact, he’s ashamed of his behavior. He’s too hard on himself. He feels bad when he still feels anger toward me, but it’s natural for it to linger during healing. It was the irrationality and the impulse-control problems that made him dangerous to me, and most of that was cured with my naturopathy.”

“It must be hard for him, not being able to trust himself and knowing Reule doesn’t trust him.”

“It is. But it will all return with time and patience. I have faith in him. Reule does as well. Soon Rye will find it in himself. Mercy, what are you making? It smells vile.”

“It’s burn salve,” Liandra said with surprise. “And it smells like sweet beggar’s root. I love that smell.” Lia sniffed the jar deeply.

“Ugh. I hope you paid attention to your ratios. It seems off to me.”

“You’re off,” Lia tsked with disgruntled pique. “My salve is fine.”

“Ladies.”

Lia and Mystique looked up at the door to see Reule lounging against the frame. His big shoulders blocked out the light from the infirmary, his figure limned in sunshine. Mystique was in his arms instantly, and he was deep in her mouth an instant after that. He drew in her flavor with deep satisfaction until he had no choice but to let her go or drag her somewhere private. Come to think of it, he mused, he was growing rather fond of the dark alcove under the first-level stairs.

Mystique wrenched herself away, shoving playfully at his chest even though it was rather like a pesky fly trying to move an elephant. “Stop that,” she scolded as she drew her fingers over her kiss-dampened lips and flushed prettily. Since she had gone through the Pack ceremony, connecting herself to all of the men as their Prima, she had become much, much more sensitive to their presence and awareness. Her Intuition had almost become premonition, just about as good as reading minds. Even Reule couldn’t hide from her uncanny ability to know his intentions. Like wanting to visit certain alcoves…

He chuckled. He liked to think up wild things sometimes just to fluster her. The trick was, he had to be serious about each and every one of those wild ideas, because he never knew when she would get that speculative look of invitation in her eyes.

But he surely enjoyed finding out.

“Lothas arrived safe and sound. He says Derrik is only a day behind him. That blizzard two days ago was perfectly timed. And you know, I never thought I would say that?” He chuckled when Lia did, nodding her head vigorously to boot.

“I think with winter able to bring new friends to visit with new treaties and trade, and also keeping the Jakals driven into caves and shelters and the deserts, you might come to appreciate the season,” Mystique mused as she cuddled back up to her husband.

“It’d be a miracle, but it may have its merits after all,” Reule said with a disbelieving shake of his head. “As for you, Liandra,” he said, shifting to a serious intonation, “you become Pack come the end of the month. Are you prepared?”

“As prepared as one woman possibly can be.” She plopped down her salve and leaned eagerly forward. “Did you know that Delano is teaching me to defend myself? Mystique gave me some of her boy’s clothes and it’s so liberating I could sing! Darcio caught me riding astride the other day and nearly popped a blood vessel. One would think he’d be used to it, since his Prima does it often enough, but no…he starts sputtering and growling at me like I committed a crime.”

“And what did you say to him?” Mystique asked archly.

Lia flushed. “Something that I shouldn’t repeat, never mind having said it in the first place. Needless to say,” she continued loudly over their snickers, “he won’t be bothering me again.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Reule muttered.

Mystique elbowed him in the ribs and smiled broadly at Lia.

“Makes me wonder what he thinks of me. Ah, well. You just do whatever you feel like doing,” Mystique said sagely. “Prime Shadow has no right to say anything to you about your behavior.”

“That was the nicer way of telling him what I said.” Lia giggled. “Well, I’d better get dressed for dinner. I’ve had to triple my wardrobe since I moved into the keep permanently. Now we are actually entertaining the head of another state. It’s so exciting. I’ve a dress picked out for Derrik’s arrival…I wonder what he looks like. All the Yesu men are so big! I know you say the women are big too, though you couldn’t tell to look at you, but honestly, how big does a girl have to be to not feel small around those guys? They’re giants!”

Liandra was pretty much talking to herself at this point as she hustled past the Prime couple and into the outer hallway. Mystique was used to this habit Lia had of chattering to no one in particular, but she still found it amusing. She looked up over her shoulder at her husband.

“I adore her.” She sighed happily.

“You said that yesterday about Chayne. And the day before about Delano.”

“And every day about you, I hope,” she rejoined.

“Without fail,” he agreed. “
Kébé
, I’ve something I need to tell you.”

“Oh?” Mystique turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his waist as she tipped up her chin. “What is it?”

“Well…” He cleared his throat and she could tell he was actually nervous. The idea bemused her. She drew back to get a better look at his rugged face.

“Did you do something wrong? Though I can’t imagine…”

“You’re pregnant,” he said in a rush. “I know you don’t know yet, but all males can tell if a woman is pregnant. It’s…it’s a Sánge trait. We can smell the…the change. We can tell if a woman is sterile, or fertile or…”

“Pregnant.”

“Pregnant,” he agreed with a grim sort of exhalation. “I’ve been awfully high-handed about this whole…thing…and I never actually asked if…”

Mystique giggled, her hand flying up to suppress the sound an instant too late, which earned her a black scowl from him.

“Reule,” she chided. “Are you trying to find out if I’m happy about becoming a mother, even though there’s nothing I can do about it now?”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out as his brain tried to untangle the nerve-wracking possibilities. “Yes,” he confessed at last. “And you think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”

“No. I’d never think that,” she scolded him. “Silly, yes. Idiot? Never. Yes, my love, I’m delighted to know that I’m going to be a mother. The first Sánge/Yesu baby and the new heir to your throne. Why wouldn’t I be proud? I love you. Para will be tickled pink. Rye will need some reassurance. And…
oh, by the Lady
, you mean they all know already?” She gasped. “All of the men know already? How long have you known? How long have all of you known? Just when do you begin to ‘smell’ a pregnancy?” she demanded.

“Um, about seven days after.”

“Seven days?” He nodded and, by the expression on his face, she had a feeling she was about to kill him. “Reule, just how pregnant am I?”

“Well…do you remember that afternoon when we first met the Yesu and you got seriously—”

“A month!” she squeaked. “You’ve known for an entire month and you didn’t tell me?”

“Well, technically it’s three weeks and three day—”

“Reule!”

“Baby, its Sánge tradition. We wait until the first month goes by just in case there’s a problem, so expectations aren’t…”

“Oh, so, if I miscarried you’d be the only one to know? The only one to feel the loss? The only one to mourn? You selfish bastard!”

She shoved him, hard, this time making him move by using her power to weaken his muscles for an instant. He stumbled back, cursing as he caught himself up against the wall. It was a dirty trick, but, damn, he admired her for it. Still, he had her by the wrist before she could flee and jerked her back, pinning her against the door frame.

“It’s tradition, and it’s not selfish. It’s caring and sensitive. Do you have any idea how many women shed a conception in the first twenty-one days in this society? How often it happens to a fertile woman in her lifetime? In a lifetime of four centuries, average, that would lead up to more devastation than you can possibly realize. So no, I wouldn’t feel loss. I wouldn’t mourn. Just a little sad that it wasn’t meant to be. But don’t stand there and condemn me for sparing you that sadness. That is the essence of the love I feel for you, Mystique. I will spare you pain whenever I can. I promised you that, remember?”

“Yes,” she said, softening as a wave of sheepishness flowed over her. “I’m sorry.” She cuddled up to him now, her hands stroking over his back. “I’m focusing on the wrong thing, aren’t I?”

“That’s a fair statement.” He chuckled. “But I hear irrationality is a trait of pregnancy.”

“Hey. Don’t push your luck,” she growled at him sternly.

“Very well,” he said, lowering his head until his lips were touching her cheek, rubbing gently to and fro. “What shall I push, then?”

“You’re a very naughty man.” She giggled. “We have guests coming to dinner and I need to get dressed.”

“Yes. Which will require you to get undressed first.” Mystique felt his fingers tugging at the laces between her breasts. “I’ve been known to be quite helpful in that regard.”

She drew in a deep breath, lifted her gaze to his, and looked at him with nothing short of complete and adoring affection.

“Have I mentioned lately,” she breathed, “how very, very happy I am?”