Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3 (16 page)

“Okay, yeah, maybe the city wasn’t the best plan.” She glanced back. “What did that warrior mean? That challenging Ar’ar would be worth the price.”

Ke’lar’s jaw hardened, his glowing gaze on the road ahead. “A warrior may challenge another for his mate.”

Summer’s brow creased. “What kind of challenge?”

“A battle between unarmed men. The victor takes the female.”

“That’s barbaric,” she got out. “That’s appalling!”

“Most females find it flattering, a great tribute to their desirability,” he grumbled.

“And a great insult to their self-determination!” she cried. “What if the woman in question doesn’t want this new guy?”

“There is the understanding that she would have voiced some interest in having him as her new mate.” He gave her an impatient look. “Did you not understand that is what N’ar”—he indicated the road behind them—“was asking? He wanted you to know he would fight for you. And he wished to know if you would have him.”

“Wait—” Summer frowned. “If he was asking—I can pick someone instead of Ar’ar?”

Ke’lar gave a g’hir nod. “Of course.”

“No wonder Ar’ar was always showing his fangs to his clanbrothers,” she murmured.

“I do not doubt it.” He gave a snort. “He was trying to warn them off from flirting with you.”

“
That’s
how g’hir flirt?” she asked. “Hey baby, let’s get a drink sometime and hey, mind if I beat the snot out of your mate?”

His rippled brow furrowed. “Only if the female already has a male who is mate-bonded to her.”

“What if she doesn’t?” Summer asked. “I mean, what if she’s single?”

“He would court her.”

“Court her how?”

He shrugged. “Dine with her, compliment her. Make a mating roar to her.”

“A mating
roar
? What’s—” She broke off, remembering Ar’ar coming at her in the snow, his roar so loud it made her ears ring. “Never mind. I think I know what it is.” She raised an eyebrow at Ke’lar. “Hey, how come you never did that for me?”

“I did not have to,” he said confidently. “
You
initiated our coupling.”

Summer gave a short, shocked laugh. “Oh, sure. After you were all ‘let’s lay here in bed together and just talk’!”

“I offered to sleep outside the shelter, in the cave.” He turned innocent, glowing eyes on her. “It was you who insisted I join you in the bed.”

“
I
insisted—?” Something in his expression caught her attention and she gaped up at him. “Oh my God, you played me, didn’t you? You made it all
my
idea that you sleep next to me.”

He flashed a full—and unapologetic—fanged grin. “A clever hunter knows when it is best to lure the prey rather than chase it.”

“You—!” She pushed at him in mock-outrage, and he caught her against him with a huffing laugh.

She shook head, outraged and smiling up at him.

“It worked well, I think,” he said huskily, and the softest of rumble-purrs started in his chest as he bent to bring his mouth to hers.

He froze and abruptly his purr broke off and he wrenched his face away.

Hurt slashed through her chest as he let her go and stepped back. “Ke’lar? What’s the—” She swallowed. “Right. No touching.”

“This lapse will make no difference,” he growled. “It will be dismissed, as if I had helped you when you had stumbled.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, dragging her feet as he started again toward the clanhall.

His other clanbrothers were no less astonished by the sudden appearance of a human woman in their midst. They stared at her round-eyed as she walked past but, while they returned Ke’lar’s greetings in a pretty distracted way, none sought to impede their progress through the enclosure.

The closer they came to the clanhall, of course, the more clanbrothers they met. Many of them had Ke’lar’s coloring, very dark hair and blue eyes, and it was funny to think how she’d once found their alien faces so frightening. In their eyes and expressions she could read all the same emotions humans felt. Still, having dozens of strange warriors from an entirely unfamiliar clan staring at her wasn’t exactly comfortable. Just their physical presence, their size and strength, was overwhelming, let alone the way they stopped whatever it was they were doing to watch her pass.

It was very, very hard not to reach out and take Ke’lar’s hand in hers; not to seek refuge in his warm strength.

Ke’lar didn’t have to tell her which building was the clanhall. The setup here was much like the Betari’s had been. A central fountain and courtyard, the imposing multi-storied structure of the clanhall, the smaller buildings and homes that had been built out over millennia as the g’hir population grew.

The buildings here were well maintained but many of these too must be empty; there were so very many warriors and no women.

As Summer climbed the steps to the clanhall she blinked at seeing a woman waiting there—a familiar one.

A
human
one . . .

“Jenna,” she breathed.

“Summer?” Jenna chocolate brown eyes were wide, her g’hir clothing as girly as you could get. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it. . . Is it really you?”

Before Summer could answer, Jenna was racing down the clanhall stairs, catching her in an embrace.

“I can’t believe you’re here! I can’t believe it’s really you!” Jenna exclaimed. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Summer said, hugging her back. “Are you? Are you all right?”

Her childhood friend gave a smile but it was a strained one. “I’m fine.”

Her brown eyes darted about, taking in Summer’s and Ke’lar’s clothing, the clanbrothers watching.

“Come on, let’s—hey, how ’bout we go to the kitchens?” She tugged at Summer’s hand to draw her along. “I’ve got them making some sweet tea. I swear, girl, it tastes just like it does back home!”

“Iced tea?” Summer stared, resisting her pull. “You vanish without a trace—everyone in Brittle Bridge thinks you’re dead—then I find you on an alien planet and the first thing you want to do is skip off for some
iced tea
? What do you think this is, Jenna McNally—an extraterrestrial garden party?”

“Sister, your welcoming custom must wait,” Ke’lar said to Jenna, his brow furrowed. “Where is my father? And Ra’kur? I must speak to them immediately.”

Just then another warrior, taller but bearing a strong resemblance to Ke’lar, emerged from the clanhall’s vast entryway. Jenna’s glance darted fearfully that way and Summer realized this must be Ra’kur, the alien who had kidnapped her friend all those months ago.

“Ra’kur!” Ke’lar called in relief, warmth and trust in his voice at his brother’s approach. “This is Summer, of the Betari enclosure. She is in urgent need of our help.”

Ra’kur glanced between them, shock flickering across his features. “Brother—”

“Why would she have need of help from you?” Ar’ar demanded as he stepped from the shadows of the Erah clanhall into the sunlight, his fangs showing. “When her own mate is here.”

Fifteen

Ar’ar’s amber eyes were molten as they fixed on her and Summer recoiled as Mirak too emerged from the Erah clanhall to stand beside his son. Ke’lar moved to stand protectively before her even as Jenna’s grip tightened on Summer’s hand, holding her fast, keeping her from fleeing.

“Congratulations, Ra’kur, son of the Erah,” Mirak said coldly to Ke’lar’s elder brother. “I was completely fooled. You had me convinced you had no idea as to her whereabouts.”

“I did not,” Ra’kur growled. “I told you the truth when I said I had no word of her, nor sight of her.”

“And yet,” Ar’ar pointed out sharply, “here my mate stands, on the very steps of your clanhall, in the company of your own brother!”

“Ra’kur did not deceive you,” Ke’lar snapped. “I had no comm unit with me during my foresting, no way to contact my clan. He had no knowledge of this.”

Ar’ar’s fangs were fully bared. “And I am to accept your word? Trust one who would steal my mate, prey upon a female vulnerable and separated from her clan?”

“I have not stolen her!” Ke’lar insisted. “She crossed to Erah territory of her own accord.”

“Before or after we met at the border between our lands, Ke’lar, son of the Erah?” Ar’ar demanded.

Ke’lar’s lip curled. “You mean when you said you had crossed into our land in search of a ‘fugitive clanbrother’?”

Ar’ar’s gold eyes narrowed. “Would you alert an enemy that your mate was nearby, lost and defenseless?”

“Lost? Maybe.” Summer squared her shoulders and shook off Jenna’s hold to face Ar’ar. “Defenseless? Fucking
never
.”

“Summer,” Jenna began urgently. “Please, just let—”

“She has asked for the sanctuary of our clanhall,” Ke’lar broke in. “I have granted it.”

“Why would she be in need of sanctuary
here
?” Ar’ar’s gaze went to Summer and for an instant she could have sworn she had wounded him. “For what reason?”

“She has asked for sanctuary,” Ke’lar repeated, lifting his chin. “I have granted it.”

“Even if she were in need of sanctuary,” Ar’ar said sharply, “you do not have the authority to grant it.”

“But his father does, doesn’t he? So let me ask him myself.” Summer put her hands on her hips. “Unless me speaking to outsiders is a problem for you, Ar’ar? Unless you have something to hide?”

“I do not know why you thought you had need to flee me, my mate. I do not understand your anger. Tell me what distresses you when we have returned to the safety of our enclosure,” Ar’ar said, reaching for her. “I vow I will set it right.”

Summer stepped back quickly, her gaze narrowed at Ar’ar. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Ar’ar’s glance flicked to Ke’lar. “I think our enemy has poisoned your mind to me, my mate.”

“Oh, he wouldn’t need to, would he? So are you going to let me speak to the Erah clanfather? Or are you going to drag me out of here kicking and screaming and show everybody what a good mate you are?”

Their little show had drawn quite a crowd of Erah clanbrothers, grumbling among themselves about how this female was being treated, something that Ar’ar and his father couldn’t help but notice. There were even a couple of richly dressed female g’hir in the crowd. One, a young woman with the Erah black hair and blue eyes, seemed riveted by the exchange but the woman beside her, a little older, a blonde, had a look of haughty disdain to her, as if these goings-on were beneath her notice.

“My father would be pleased to speak with your mate,” Ra’kur offered. “Since she has requested it.”

Ar’ar’s jaw tightened. “And since your father has not troubled himself to step outside,” he pointed out with a caustic look at Ra’kur, “he makes it necessary that my mate enter the clanhall in order to speak with him.”

“My apologies.” Ra’kur spread his hands. “Our father is elderly.”

“But wily as ever,” Mirak muttered.

“Are you going let me speak to their clanfather?” Summer demanded. “Or are you afraid to?”

Ar’ar’s rippled brow furrowed. “I do not fear—”

“Summer of the Betari,” Ke’lar broke in, formally indicating the entrance, “in our clanfather’s name, we bid you welcome to our hall.”

“Hey, since you asked, yes,” Summer trilled loudly, already striding past Ar’ar and his father, “I’d
love
to come in, thanks!”

The entrance to the Erah clanhall was brighter, simpler, less ornate than the Betari’s, but lovely too and probably just as ancient.

“This way, please,” Ra’kur said, leading them into the dining hall.

An elderly g’hir seated there stood as they entered.

“A pity you were not up to joining us outside,” Mirak commented. “Feeling rested now, Rotin?”

“Yes, thank you,” the clanfather of the Erah said smoothly. His glowing, pale blue eyes turned to Summer. “And who is this?”

“As if you did not know,” Ar’ar grumbled.

“I’m Summer Mills and I am, uh”—she inclined her head like the g’hir did, trying to sound formal and respectful—“seeking sanctuary in your hall.”

“For what reason?” Rotin asked.

“Well—” She really hadn’t expected to have to give an explanation. She’d just thought she’d ask and he’d grant it. “I’m human—well, obviously—” she said in response to his faint smile. “I was kidnapped—uh, captured, from my world but I don’t want to remain on Hir. I want to go back to Earth.” She took a deep breath. “Right now.”

“I see,” Rotin said gravely. “Is this your Day of Choosing?”

“My—?” Summer’s stomach clenched. “No, that’s not for another eighteen days.”

Rotin glanced at Ar’ar. “Has your mate mistreated you?”

Summer threw her hands out in frustration. “He kidnapped me!”

“To hunt—to capture—a mate is our way.”

“I
know
that! But he took me from my—” Summer caught herself. “From my world. Without my permission and he refuses to let me return.”

“Until your day of choosing,” Rotin pointed out. “This is by Hir law.”

“I shouldn’t have to wait!” Summer insisted, fury making her voice rise. “I’ve made my decision—I want to go back to Earth!”

“You have that right,” the clanfather agreed. “When the moon’s cycle is complete.”

Summer gritted her teeth. What was it with these people? Did they honestly think a few days was going to make any difference? “He kept me prisoner at the Betari enclosure.”

“Prisoner!” Ar’ar’s amber eyes widened. “It is your home!”

“No, it’s not! Aren’t you fucking
listening
?” Summer cried. “I want to go home—and home is Earth!”

“
I
am listening,” Rotin said with such patient dignity that Summer felt her face flush in embarrassment. “You have asked for sanctuary in my clanhall, Mata,” he reminded, using the g’hir way of addressing an honored female. “This is a very serious matter. One I must consider carefully to ascertain if there is cause to grant it.”

He really did seem to be trying to help her. Summer gave a—human—nod. “I understand.”

“Has Ar’ar mistreated you, Mata?” Rotin asked again.

Summer wet her lips. It would be a lie, a big whopper of one, since Ar’ar had never threatened her, never used his considerable strength to hurt her. Everything he’d done was in accordance with Hir law and custom.

But that didn’t make it right.

At her silence Rotin regarded her gravely. “Then I do not see cause to grant you sanctuary here.”

“Father,” Ke’lar began urgently, “Summer will not
be
permitted to choose. Even if she choses to return to her world the Betari will announce that she has chosen Ar’ar!”

“You lie!” Ar’ar roared, rounding on Ke’lar.

“You are the ones who lie!” Ke’lar snarled, his fangs fully bared.

“This is my clanhall!” Rotin stepped forward. “And I will have no bloodshed within it!”

Ar’ar’s fangs gleamed in the light. “Then come outside, thief. Let me spill your blood there,” he taunted. “Let your lies seep away with your lifeforce!”

“My son—” Mirak placed his hand on Ar’ar’s arm. The Betari heir resisted for a moment, his furious eyes fixed on Ke’lar, then allowed his father to draw him back.

Rotin turned his attention to Summer, his crinkled pale alien eyes kind but with the same lingering sadness all the g’hir carried.

“Is this true?” he asked. “Did your mate say he would not honor your choice?”

“It wasn’t Ar’ar.” Summer glanced at the Betari’s clanfather. “It was Mirak who said that to me.”

“My father would never—!”

Rotin held up a palm to Ar’ar to silence him and regarded Mirak with a raised eyebrow.

The Council member didn’t even blink. “Naturally her decision on the Choosing Day will be honored. It is the law.”

“That’s not what you told me a few days ago!” Summer snapped, her face hot. “You told me I was staying with Ar’ar no matter what I decided!”

“I believe you misunderstood me,” Mirak said coolly. “Daughter.”

Summer’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, man, you are some piece of work, Councilor!”

“You vow that this young woman
will
have her Day of Choosing?” Rotin asked pointedly, indicating Summer. “That your clan will honor her decision?”

“Of course.” Mirak inclined his head. “You have my word.”

“Then,” Rotin said gravely, “I cannot lawfully grant sanctuary. I must refuse your request.”

Her throat closed at the unfairness of it, at the wrongness of it. Who was
he
—who were
any
of them—to determine where she should go, what she should do?

“I can’t believe this!” Summer cried, her hands clenching. “You’re just going to send me back with them? No matter what I want?”

“Father,” Ke’lar urged, “I implore you to reconsider! Allow her to remain with us, under our protection—”

“Ar’ar is her mate, my son,” Rotin said, frowning. “He is within his rights under the law.”

Like his right to Emma!

She could see it in Ke’lar’s eyes, how he was on the verge of telling them about Emma.  His father might be an honorable man but clearly he was one that would obey Hir law and the law declared Emma belonged to Ar’ar—and the Betari.

Quickly Summer gave the tiniest of headshakes, warning him to stay silent, and Ke’lar’s jaw hardened in grim acknowledgment.

His eyes flashed blue fire as he turned his gaze to Ar’ar. “Summer stays here!”

“Summer is
mine
!” Ar’ar snarled, his fangs showing as he released her arm to confront Ke’lar. “Do you challenge me for her?”

Jenna’s chocolate eyes rounded with horror. Her mate quickly drew her back, out of danger, as Ke’lar leapt forward and Ra’kur put himself protectively between Jenna and the two snarling warriors.

“He does not.” Rotin sent a warning glance but his son’s attention was fixed on Ar’ar.

Ke’lar roared, his fangs fully bared, his body shifting to a fighting stance as Ar’ar too readied for battle.

“This female belongs to the Betari!” his father shouted. “I forbid this challenge!”

“Take her from me, Ke’lar,” Ar’ar growled. “If you can!”

Summer’s heart hammered in her chest, her ears still ringing from Ke’lar’s roar, her stomach rolling at what was about to happen. God knew she didn’t want this but there was no other way. If Ke’lar won her in this barbaric fight, she could stay here with him. He was the only one who knew—
he
understood—about Emma, that her baby needed her, that she had to get home and fast. He would let her go back to Earth, back to her baby and—

His gaze met hers then and the blue fire in his eyes went cold as moonlight.

“No,” Ke’lar growled, straightening. “As my father commands, I acknowledge your claim to this female, Ar’ar. She is yours.”