Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3 (15 page)

G’hir couldn’t cry but the grief etched into his face showed he felt loss as deeply as any human. Summer knelt beside him on the cold, damp ground. She wrapped her arms around him and trembling, Ke’lar clung to her. A wail sound rose in his throat till it echoed through the small grove.

“I’m sorry.” Summer rocked him as he keened for Beya. Any thought of how this might delay them, how badly they needed the multari to reach the clanhall, vanished in the face of his pain. “I’m so sorry . . .”

She stayed there with him, holding him against her, and he clung to her. In time his keen quieted but he did not let her go.

“I do not remember her. My mother,” he murmured finally, his eyes on the multari who had been his companion for so many years. “I ought to, I was five summers when she died; old enough to have some memory of her but I have none. They say it was the trauma, that when the Scourge tore through our enclosure my mind blocked the horror of it. But I do not remember much before that time either. It is as if I were born into a world already broken, with no recall of a time when my kind was not a dying race. . . .”

“I’m sorry.” Summer stroked his silky hair, wishing she could say more, wishing she had some great comfort to offer.

“No child so young should be without her mother,” he said hoarsely. “We cannot let your child know such terrible grief. We cannot leave her unprotected. You are right, my Summer. No matter what the cost, you must return to your world.”

Fourteen

Ke’lar shouldered most of the supplies on their trek to the clanhall, although he allowed her to carry some small portion of them. Summer waited respectfully as Ke’lar returned the animal who had been his companion and comfort for so long to the g’hir’s All Mother.

His face was ragged with grief but he sent her a grateful look when Summer took his hand.

“We will be there by the evening meal,” he promised, with a glance at the suns.

“Only because I walk so freaking slow.” She raised her eyebrows. “We could just leave everything here and you could carry me on your back.”

He shook his head. “This foresting has been one full of surprises and—difficulties. It is a few hours’ walk to the clanhall but I will not leave our supplies here, and risk finding shelter and food—should we need them—to chance. Carrying you and the supplies both will tire me. I may need to protect you and I will not gamble with your safety.”

“Protect me from what?” she asked with a worried glance at the forest around them.

His fangs showed for an instant as if warning the universe at large not to dare threaten her. “From anything.”

“We’re in your clan’s territory,” she reminded. “We should be pretty safe here.”

“I am a g’hir warrior, you are my mate. I cannot tolerate danger to you.” His hand cradled hers. “But you are human, I do not expect you to understand.”

“Hey, I have a kid, remember?” she pointed out. “You want to see some serious mama-bear action—threaten a human female’s baby.”

He stopped, his glowing eyes serious. “You must tell them.”

“About Emma?” Her jaw hardened. “No fucking way.”

“When the decision was made to take women from your world it was decided that no female who had already borne offspring be taken from her young. Ar’ar has broken this directive. They will allow you to return to Earth. They must.”

“Or instead,” she began sharply, “the Council—that Mirak practically
runs
—will give their clan a slap on the wrist instead and decide that Ar’ar has a right to go get ‘his’ daughter. That’s the law too, isn’t it?”

“A child belongs to the mother and the mother’s mate. Emma is not Ar’ar’s daughter,” Ke’lar said quietly. “She is mine.”

Summer swallowed hard. “What will your clanfather do? What will the Erah do if they find out they can add not just one female but two to their enclosure?”

“I am not saying they will be pleased to let you go,” he growled softly. “But they will obey the law. My clan
will
respect your choice.”

“The choice I get to make after one moon cycle with you, right?” she asked hoarsely. “To obey the law your clan could only let me go home after my Day of Choosing—a full moon cycle from our first coupling, right? Twenty-seven days from now.”

He passed his hand over his face. “Yes.”

“That just resets the clock. That has me getting home a month after Dean brings Emma back.”

“And so I must not claim you for my mate,” he said, his shoulders falling. He regarded her gravely for a moment, then gave her hand a gentle tug. “We will plead your case to my father. He too has great influence with the Council.”

“What if that doesn’t work? What if your father won’t help?”

“Emma—”

“No,” she said firmly. “I won’t risk them knowing about her. For all I know Mirak will arrange a military raid to find her.”

His glowing blue eyes were steady. “Then we must trust that the All Mother will soften my father’s heart to your cause.”

They walked in silence, hand in hand, each absorbed with their own thoughts when Summer slowly became aware of something she hadn’t seen in days.

Summer blinked. “Hey, this is a road! An actual road!”

It was dirt road, granted, but a wide cleared space. The kind of road she’d thought would enable her to cover ten miles a day when she’d first escaped the Betari clanhall.

“It is the southern road of our territory and will lead us to my clan’s enclosure. I have walked it many times. But come,” he said, leading her instead through the trees, toward the river and to a shaded spot there. In the distance was a village-like cluster of buildings and towering over them a structure that could only be the Erah clanhall.

Her way home.

Ke’lar glanced about the place and gave a nod of approval, already shrugging off his pack. “This will do.”

“Why are we stopping here?” she asked, and her eyebrows shot up as his clothes started coming off. “And uh, what are you doing?” Her gaze traced his naked form, her breath quickening. “I mean, not that I mind . . .”

Her tone was husky but the expression he turned on her was serious.

“They will smell me on you, and you on me,” he reminded. “They will know we have mated.”

“Oh,” she murmured.

His jaw worked for a moment. “We must convince my father to return you to Earth. If I claim you, you must remain on Hir until your Choosing Day, so I cannot do so. The only way for you to be returned to Earth is to publicly accuse the Betari of threatening you, of denying your right to choose, and then asking my father to take up your cause. You must enter the Erah clanhall as Ar’ar’s mate to do that.”

“I see.” She shifted her weight. “I didn’t realize how much that was going to bother me.”

“To proclaim yourself his mate and then forswear him?”

“No,” she said softly. “To pretend like you don’t mean anything to me.”

“It will take all my strength to do this.” His face was ragged. “To stand by and not declare you mine. But if you are to forswear Ar’ar and do it in the Erah clanhall, you must be seen as one of the Betari, not one of my clan. You cannot be seen to favor me as an alternate to Ar’ar. We must wash and change here before we encounter any of my clanbrothers and we must not touch again.”

Her throat tightened. “You mean never?”

Ke’lar met her gaze and in his eyes she saw something of what this was costing him. “It would be best . . . not to.”

I have to do this. I have to get home. Emma needs me . . .

“Okay,” she said hoarsely. “Okay.”

She slipped the small pack he’d allowed her off her back. He handed her a small pouch of cleanser and she noticed that when he did he took care not to touch her. He kept his gaze from her as he entered the river water to wash too.

Water played over his body in the sunlight.

Summer swallowed hard and stripped her clothes off.  The water was cold and she dunked herself into it and came up gasping.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his back to her.

She was suddenly reminded of the first night they met, of her washing in this same river but way upstream, worried that all he wanted was to get an eyeful.

But he wasn’t even looking at her now.

“Yeah.” She cleared her throat and poured some of the spicy-smelling cleanser into her palm. “It’s just freezing.”

“There will be hot baths at the clanhall,” he said apologetically. “And proper beds.”

But we won’t be sharing one.

She rubbed the cleanser between her hands and started washing her hair.

It’s not like he could come and live with her on Earth, for Christ’s sake! It’s not like she and Ke’lar and Emma could settle into some cute little cottage and be a family.

It was him or a little girl who had no one but her mother.

Summer would never wish her daughter away; that child had brought more joy and meaning to her life—even with all the struggles of being a single mom—than she could ever have imagined. But if by some chance she had never had Emma, if she didn’t have anything so precious back on Earth—

Summer’s eyes were drawn to Ke’lar, to his muscled back, his back hair, his rippled brow in profile, his glowing eyes firmly turned away.

I’d stay with him. Oh, my God, I
want
to stay with him.

The realization held her frozen for an instant, thigh-deep in the chill water of an alien world, watching the dappled light of Hir’s suns play across his broad shoulders.

And going home means I’ll never see him again. I won’t even remember . . .

Summer couldn’t help but edge a little closer to Ke’lar when they encountered the first of his clanbrothers on the road. The men had been talking, laughing amongst themselves as they came from the direction of the enclosure, but they stopped, staring, as soon as they spotted her.

He called out to his fellow Erah, acknowledging each by name, as she and Ke’lar approached, but they didn’t return his warm greeting.

They had gone silent, their glowing eyes—in shades of blue from the palest gray to sapphire dark—fixed on her, their faces slack in astonishment.

“Who are you?” one of them asked Ke’lar without taking his eyes off her for an instant. She had the spooky feeling that he was weighing the idea of his chances of getting away with her swung over his shoulder. “What is your namesound?”

“This is Summerelizabethmills,” Ke’lar replied, making her first, middle, and last name into one long word.

Summer glanced at Ke’lar. She’d have to explain to him later how the three were really supposed to be distinct and why, but she sure didn’t feel like extending this meeting any longer by starting up some conversation.

“She cannot be yours!” one of the younger ones exclaimed suddenly. He took a step closer to sniff lightly. Ke’lar tensed at her side and the young man threw a startled look at him. “She does not bear your scent.”

Clearly the idea that he might be traveling with a human female he hadn’t already claimed was astounding. She could also see that it was starting to sink in to the clanbrothers that she might just be fair game.

Oh, this could get ugly fast . . .

“I’m Ar’ar’s mate,” she said, her voice strained. “From the uh, Betari clan.”

Apparently speaking just managed to rivet their attention back on her completely.

“What are you doing here?” one asked. He glanced at Ke’lar. “With our clanbrother?”

“She has come to speak to our clanfather,” Ke’lar said, putting his body between her and the men who seemed rooted to the spot and blocking their way.

“I have seen Ar’ar,” one of the men who had not yet spoken said. “He is a fierce warrior.” His azure eyes fixed on her and his full mouth curved a bit. “But to challenge him would be worth the price.”

“She is the honored mate of the Betari heir and our guest,” Ke’lar said sharply.  “She is deserving of the hospitality of our clanhall and its comforts. You will not offer her insult by delaying our journey.” His voice lowered to a snarl. “Stand aside.”

The men were startled, but his outrage—and implied threat—got them to move so that Ke’lar and Summer could pass.

Ke’lar indicated that she should go first. Ducking her head, she preceded him, and discovered she was trying to make herself a little smaller as she walked past the men.

Summer trusted Ke’lar’s senses enough that she knew he would be aware if one tried to follow them but a glance back showed the men hadn’t budged, still watching her with predator-like fixation.

“That was uncomfortable,” she muttered when they had gone far enough along the road to be out of sight.

“That was nothing compared to what you would have encountered had you entered the capital alone,” Ke’lar growled. “And there would have been none at hand to call upon clan loyalty and good manners. They would be fighting in the streets over you.”