Why did I push her away? Why did I shout at her not to touch me? What’s wrong with me?
Braxx had no answers to any of the questions crowding his mind. But that didn’t mean they would stop coming.
He paced up and down the length of the small hut—an exercise which only took him three steps in each direction, and wondered why he had acted the way he had with Molly.
Why didn’t I just tell her what was wrong with my cheek—the reason it looked different to her than the other? he asked himself.
In answer, a picture of Danella rose in his mind, her sleek cap of raven black hair so different from Molly’s tumbled caramel locks. The look of disgust and pity on her perfect features was all it took to turn his stomach. His ex-intended had always been extremely concerned with appearances. She had loved going out and feeling every eye on them, putting herself and Braxx on display and knowing they were the most beautiful couple in the room.
The crash had taken that from her in one fell swoop. Oh, there were still many eyes on them, but now the look they held was one of horror, not admiration. Danella hadn’t been able to stand it.
Braxx thought he knew Molly well enough to know that she wasn’t as vain and concerned with appearances as his ex. But what if he was wrong? He just couldn’t bear to take the risk and find out.
Plus, even if she accepted your appearance, how could she accept your past? What you did in that crash…
But no—Braxx pushed the ugly memory brutally aside. He couldn’t just—a sudden glance at the chronometer on his wrist cut off his thought abruptly. How had it gotten so late? Molly had been gone over an hour—almost two hours. Shouldn’t she be back by now if she was only going for a wash in the stream?
I think we know that’s not the only reason she left, whispered a nasty little voice in his head. She wanted more than a wash—she wanted to get away from you.
But Braxx didn’t allow himself to be pulled back into the mire of misery and self-recrimination he’d been wallowing in for the past two hours. The point now was finding Molly. He had sworn to protect her—he shouldn’t have let her go off alone on a strange planet, no matter what he was feeling.
He left the hut and jogged down to the stream…only to find it deserted. There was no sign of Molly except for a faint trace of her sweet, fresh scent clinging to the moss near the stream’s edge. Her scent and…
Braxx frowned as he sniffed the air, his nostrils wrinkling.
No…oh, no—it can’t be!
But it was—another scent was lingering around the side of the stream bank—a darker, more masculine scent.
Braxx felt a low growl building in his throat—Drogor!
Abruptly his toes found something hard half buried in the moss. Looking down, he saw it was the voice recorder Molly kept with her at all times.
He picked it up and saw it was still recording. He ran it back and listened— it had picked up his faint curse as he stubbed his toe on its hard case. Heart beating in his throat, he ran it back some more.
“I’m feeling homesick,” he heard Molly’s sweet voice say. “I miss Denise and I think I may have really screwed myself here—allowing myself to be, uh, intimate with Braxx.”
The words made his heart clench like a fist in his chest—so she was sorry about what they’d done together. Well, could he really blame her?
But the next words on the little recorder made him feel even worse, if that was possible.
“So you regret allowing the off-worlder to pledge to you, do you?” The voice was unmistakably Drogor’s.
Braxx gritted his teeth as he listened to the recorded exchange. When he got to the part where Drogor mentioned that Braxx’s scent had been washed off of Molly, he clenched his fists in frustration.
Damn it, he should have thought about the stream washing his scent away! In a world where females were branded by their male’s scent stamped on their skin, allowing her to take a bath without him to protect her was the same as sending a woman with a deep cut to swim in shark-infested waters!
As he listened, it became clear what had happened—while he had been pacing in the hut and licking his wounds like a hurt beast, the huge Deep Dweller had swooped back into the village and had come upon Molly all alone. Seeing—or rather smelling—his chance, he had taken her and run off—probably to the catacombs deep beneath the surface of the earth which the Tal’ossi called “the Depths.”
A final cut-off scream on the recorder clinched the idea and Braxx knew what he had to do. He was going to the Depths to get his female back. Going to claim her and bash Drogor’s skull in for daring to take her!
He turned to head in the direction of the Depths but a familiar voice stopped him.
“So, you did not claim her as I told you to.”
“Wise One?” Braxx whirled to face her and found her standing behind him, her arms crossed over her wrinkled bosom, her one large eye narrowed in disapproval.
“So I am called, Braxx from the sky. But perhaps I should be renamed Foolish One. I tried to warn you to claim your female completely but maybe my warning was not strong enough.”
“I am the one who is foolish,” Braxx growled. “I allowed Molly to come here to bathe alone, never thinking that the water would wash my protective scent from her skin. And now—”
“And now Drogor has taken her away to the Depths,” she finished for him, nodding gravely. “Yes, I know—I heard as much when you used the box that makes voices.” She nodded at the recorder still clenched tightly in his hand. “But the Cha’llah told me also—told me there would be trouble. And so I came.”
“Whatever rebuke you have for me, give it quickly,” Braxx growled. “I have to go get Molly before that fucking Deep Dweller claims her!”
“It is not a scolding but a warning I have for you, Braxx from the Sky,” the Wise One said. “First, I warn you that the way ahead of you is very dark—not just for your eyes but for your soul. The Cha’llah bids me tell you that winning back your female will not be easy. In order to take back Molly, you will have to let go of your last hope.”
Braxx had no idea what she meant so he simply nodded.
“All right.”
“You do not understand—but you will.” the Wise one nodded grimly. “Oh yes, you will, Braxx from the Sky. My second warning to you is this—when you get to Molly from the Stars, mark her as your own at once. Do not hesitate to brand her with your scent or you will be sorry. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Wise One.” Braxx nodded.
“Good, now go and may the Cha’llah bless your efforts.”
“Thank you.” Braxx turned away and ran into the night, hoping he could get to Molly before it was too late.
* * * * *
Molly woke when someone dripped water on her face.
“Wha—?” She tried to sit up but someone with soft hands pushed her back down again firmly.
“Lie still, Molly from the Stars. The world has been dark to your eyes for many breaths. You must take your waking slowly.”
Molly started to tell the strange woman the world was always dark to her eyes since she was blind but then she saw it wasn’t true—at least, not completely. For she could see the woman who was talking to her—she glowed gold with red and blue highlights which outlined her facial features and her hair respectively.
I can see—I can see! It was a surprise all over again and it brought back the events of the past day and night vividly. Coming to Tal’os Trenta, making love with Braxx when I really shouldn’t have, the Wise One giving me a crystal to help me see…
Her fingers flew to her forehead and sure enough, she felt the familiar shape of the tear-drop shaped crystal pressed right between her eyes. Was it glowing more brightly than it had before? In the darkness of the room she was in, it certainly seemed to be.
“Do not worry, Molly from the Stars,” the woman who had been sponging her forehead with a damp cloth said. “Your Cha’llah crystal is quite safe. For none can remove it but you and then, only of your own free will.”
“Thank you,” Molly said uncertainly. She struggled to sit up again and this time the woman helped her. “Thank you but…who are you?”
“I am Llewith—a healer.” The woman inclined her head gracefully. “The Elder of our clan charged me with making certain you were well enough for your claiming.”
“My what?” Molly frowned at her. “My claiming? What are you talking about?”
Then, in a sudden sick rush, the rest of her memories returned. Drogor catching her unawares at the stream, tucking her under his arm and running away with her.
I must be in the Depths—the caverns underground where the Deep Dwellers live, she thought, feeling ill. And now, how am I ever going to get out again?
“Drogor is claiming you as soon as the clan can get assembled for the ceremony,” Llewith explained. “He took you in a raid from the Surface Lands, did he not?”
“Yes, he took me—he took me against my will,” Molly emphasized. “I did not want to go with him and I refuse to be claimed by him.”
“Oh, you cannot refuse.” The woman sounded shocked, as though the idea was crazy. “He has taken you and so you are his. It is as simple as that.”
“But—” Molly began but just then there was a small, polite cough from a few feet away.
“Healer Llewith,” a female voice said and Molly looked up to see another Deep Dweller female, outlined in glowing gold. Her heat-vision sight was beginning to be familiar to her again and she could see the woman stood in a kind of doorway hollowed out of rock.
“Yes?” The healer asked.
“Elder has asked me to come and see if the off-worlder female is ready for the ceremony,” the other woman said. “He says to tell you all the village is assembled and waiting. And Drogor says to make haste for he will not risk losing her again.”
“Yes, she is well,” the healer said. “She can speak and she is regaining her strength.”
Too late, Molly realized she ought to have remained still and silent instead of sitting up and talking so much. She ought to have played sick. But now it was too late. Already Llewith was on one side and the other woman was on the other as they pulled her to her feet.
“Wait,” she said, trying to hold back. “Wait, I can’t do this! I can’t!”
“Come, Molly from the Stars.” The healer gripped her arm all the tighter and pulled her along by force. She and the woman on Molly’s other side were extremely tall and muscular—between the two of them they nearly lifted Molly off her feet and she had no chance to escape.
“Please,” she begged as they dragged her out of the smaller cave she’d woken in and into a much larger cavern lit only by a soft blue glow. “Don’t do this to me! I only came to know the People for a little while. I have people at home who care for me and I care for them in return. I can’t get married, er, claimed and stay here forever.”
“If you did not wish to be claimed, you should have had another male mark you with his scent,” Llewith told her as they dragged her through a crowd of assembled Deep Dwellers and up a stony hill. “And you should feel privileged that Drogor has chosen to make you his woman.” A faint note of bitterness crept into her voice. “Many females have wished for him to claim them. He is the mightiest warrior in the clan—being his woman is a great honor. “
“It’s an honor I cannot accept,” Molly protested. “I mean, do you want him? Because you can have him—I just can’t—oooh!”
Her last words ended in a gasp of wonder because they had finally reached the crest of the rocky hill, which seemed to be the focal point of the Deep Dweller village. Standing there was Drogor, along with an older male with stooped shoulders and an air of great age and wisdom around him—he must be the clan’s Elder.
But it wasn’t the males waiting for her that drew the gasp of surprise from Molly’s throat. It was the sight that met her eyes when she finally reached the top of the hill.
Earlier she had noted that the village, which seemed to consist of rock-walled dwellings with no roofs on them—was lit by a soft blue-green glow. But now she could see the source of the radiance.
It was a river of blue fire that pulsed and flowed along one side of the village.
No, not fire or lava, Molly thought. It’s Cha’llah—the Cha’llah.
She knew at once she was right. For the fire didn’t look like any other she could ever remember seeing and there didn’t seem to be any heat emanating from it. It didn’t flicker—it throbbed. It looked like pictures Molly had seen about the Aurora Borealis back before she’d lost her sight. That immense, beautiful glow that filled the sky on cold arctic nights had imprinted itself on her memory and she had never forgotten it, even after she went blind.
“Oh,” she whispered, staring at the mesmerizing flow of the Cha’llah. She could see now why the people here worshipped and revered it. Even at a distance, she could feel the power coming from it—could almost hear it—a low thrumming in the air that beat upon the ears, just under the range of audible hearing.
“You see the Cha’llah,” the Elder remarked to Molly. “And the Cha’llah sees into you. I notice you wear a healing crystal upon your forehead.”
“Yes. Yes, I…the Wise One gave it to me.” Molly spoke haltingly. Though a moment ago she’d been upset about the idea of being “claimed” against her will, now she couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away from the river of turquoise and cerulean light that pulsed far down below her.
“It glows only dimly. Now that you are here in the Depths to stay, you can perhaps persuade the Cha’llah to fill this vessel to the brim to help in whatever healing it was given to you for in the first place.” The Elder said, nodding sagely.
“Oh, uh right,” Molly mumbled, and then realized what she was saying. With an effort, she dragged her eyes away from the mesmerizing flow of power and looked at the older male standing beside Drogor. “No wait—I’m not here to stay. I mean, I shouldn’t even be here at all!” she told him. “I was stolen—kidnapped! I am not here of my own free will.”
If she was hoping for some reaction, she was considerably disappointed. The Elder simply nodded and Drogor actually had the gall to laugh, his rumbling tones rolling like thunder .
“Of course you are not, Molly from the Stars!” he exclaimed. “You are here at my will—because I brought you. You are here because I want you and no other.”
“But I don’t want you,” Molly exclaimed.
He frowned. “It does not matter—for you are mine now. I am claiming you since that fool of an off-worlder was too stupid to claim you when he had a chance.”
Seeing there was no help in that direction, Molly turned hopefully to the Elder.
“Please, sir,” she said, leaning towards him anxiously. I am not Drogor’s woman—I, uh, belong to another man.”
Though it stuck in her throat to say such things—she was an independent woman after all—she felt this might be the only way to get out of this predicament. Maybe if she could make the Elder understand—
“You belong to Drogor now, Molly from the Stars,” the Elder said gravely. “You do not wear the scent of any other male which means you are ripe for claiming. Drogor has taken you as many have been taken from the Surface clans. You will be his and live out your life among us here in the Depths.”
“No, she won’t!” A loud, masculine shout echoed through the huge cavern, sending a shiver down Molly’s spine. Could it be…? Had Braxx come for her, even after the fight they’d had?
Heart beating hard, she turned and strained her eyes, using her new vision, trying to pick out the big Kindred from the rest of the milling crowd. At last she saw a much larger figure with one dark blue cheek shouldering his way through the assembled people.
It is him! It’s really Braxx, she realized, feeling a surge of relief. Now he’ll claim me and we can go home—or at least back up to the Surface. Everything will be all right—won’t it?
A look at the Elder’s face, which she could see pretty clearly because he was closer, made her not so sure. There was an expression of grave disapproval on his glowing features while Drogor was glowering like a thunder cloud about to break and spew lightning.
“Who are you?” the Elder demanded as Braxx pushed his way up the hill to stand beside her. “And how is it that you interrupt a sacred claiming ceremony, here before all the village?”
“I am Braxx, the rightful mate of this female.” Braxx put a proprietary arm around her, drawing Molly close. “I have come to take her back with me. Drogor cannot claim her because she is mine.”
Molly felt an electrical tingle of excitement rush through her when she heard the big Kindred say she was his, just as she had at the feast. God, she knew she shouldn’t react like that—she was a strong, independent woman who didn’t belong to any man. But she couldn’t help herself—hearing Braxx claim her seemed to touch something deep inside her, some primal, sexual part that wanted nothing more than to belong to the big Kindred forever.
But the Elder was shaking his head and Drogor’s face had gone more red than gold with fury.
“Your scent is not on her,” he pointed out, stabbing a finger at Molly. “You did not claim her when you had the chance.”
“I pledged to her,” Braxx said, speaking to the Elder, not to Drogor. “At the Feast of Pledging in the village of the Surface Dwellers. And the Elder of the Surface Clan declared that she was mine and no other.”
The Elder turned to Drogor, frowning.
“Is this true?”
“Yes, but after pledging to her, he did not claim her!” Drogor protested. “When I came upon her, she had washed all his scent away. And she said she regretted allowing him to pledge to her.”
Molly felt Braxx’s arm around her shoulder stiffen and she wished she could sink into the ground right then and there.
“I wasn’t saying that to you,” she protested, glaring at Drogor. “And I didn’t mean that I didn’t want Braxx. I just meant—”
“It’s all right,” Braxx muttered, pitching his voice low. “I heard it. I found your recorder—it’s how I knew that Drogor had taken you.”
“Braxx…” She turned to him, putting a hand on his arm appealingly. “Please believe me, I would never say anything to hurt you. I was just…expressing my feelings. Not that I feel I don’t want you. I mean, what happened between us at the feast was wonderful…amazing. It’s just—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he cut her off grimly. “It doesn’t matter how you think of me, Molly. I have sworn to protect you with my life and see you safely home. I will keep my promise no matter how you feel or do not feel for me.”
“And that’s the only reason you came for me?” She couldn’t help the twist of disappointment she felt. “Just to keep your promise?”
“No,” Braxx growled. “Damn it! I—”
“You see, Elder—they don’t even want each other!” Drogor exclaimed and Molly realized with a sinking heart that he must have heard their whispered conversation.
“That’s not true,” she retorted quickly. “It’s just…complicated between Braxx and me. And anyway,” she added. “I sure as hell don’t want you, Drogor.”
“But I want you—which is all that is necessary for a claiming,” the Deep Dweller proclaimed.
“You cannot have her! She is mine and I am taking her back to the surface where she belongs,” Braxx growled.
“I took her! She is staying here with me!” Drogor snarled back.
“I’ll kill you before I let you keep Molly.” Braxx’s voice was quiet but deadly. “I have sworn an oath to protect her and I will not allow you to take her.”
“If it’s a fight to the death you want—” Drogor began but the Elder interrupted him.
“There can be no fighting or killing by the sacred Cha’llah flow—you know that, Drogor,” he said sternly.
“Then how is the matter to be settled?” the Deep Dweller demanded. “How if I am not allowed to kill this bastard who is trying to take my female?”
“She is my female,” Braxx growled.
The Elder held out his hands to forestall further argument.
“We must do as we have always done when two males dispute for the same female,” he said. “The two of you must run The Race.”
“The Race?” Molly frowned. “What’s that?”
“It is when two males see who is fastest and strongest and best able to take care of the female they both want,” the Elder explained. He turned to Braxx and Drogor. “Molly from the Stars will be placed in the claiming cottage on the other side of the Cha’llah flow. The two of you will start at the same time at the Finger of Stone and pass over the Bridge of Safe Distance. Whoever gets to her first will win her.”
A bubble of hysterical laughter rose in Molly’s throat and she had to swallow it back down hastily. I have a Ph.D. I’m well respected in my field. I’ve given lectures in universities all over the world. And now I’m reduced to a prize to be won—a blue ribbon or a trophy cup to be handed out to the fastest runner!
“I agree with your decision, Elder.” Drogor bowed his head. “We will run The Race.”
“Off-worlder, do you agree as well?” the Elder demanded of Braxx. “I warn you—though we do not practice violence near the sacred Cha’llah flow, we will restrain you and throw you into the Pits of Darkness far beyond its radiance if you will not agree to participate.”
Molly looked up at Brax. “What are we going to do?” she asked in a low voice. “I don’t want you thrown into the, uh, Pits of Darkness, Braxx!”
He sighed. “It seems I have no choice. I can fight Drogor for you but I cannot prevail over all the males in this village.” He took her by the shoulders and looked down at her, his eyes glowing fierce and red in her new vision. “I swear to you, Molly, I will win this race and I will mark you as my own at the end of it.”
Molly felt another little shiver run through her—a flutter of nervous desire that made her nipples tight and the place between her legs ache with need.
“All right,” she whispered breathlessly. “Do it, then Braxx. I…I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line.”
“I’ll be there,” he said grimly.
“Good—then it is decided. The Race shall decide who owns Molly from the Stars.” The Elder nodded decisively and then called out. “Healer Llewith, come—you are needed again. Please bring this off-worlder female to the claiming house to await the winner of The Race.”
“With pleasure, Elder.” Llewith stepped forward and was about to take her arm but Molly pulled away.
“Wait!” Impulsively, she stood on tiptoe and threw her arms around Braxx’s neck. At first he seemed surprised but then he hugged her back, leaning down to pull her close to his broad, bare chest.
“Molly,” he murmured. “I swear I’ll win you, no matter what I have to do.”
“I know. I—” It was on the tip of her tongue to say “I love you” but Molly swallowed the words before they could come out. Where had they come from, anyway? Despite all they had been through together, she still barely knew the big Kindred. She couldn’t be in love with him on the basis of such a short acquaintance…could she?
“Be careful,” she said instead and then kissed him, pressing her lips to his recklessly—defiantly. Though her opinion didn’t seem to count for anything in this misogynistic world, she wanted there to be no question about which male she preferred.
Again, she seemed to have caught Braxx by surprise but then he kissed her back, taking her mouth with his in a kiss so hot and sweet it took her breath away.
Molly felt herself melting, her nipples rubbing against his hard chest were tingling with desire and her pussy felt wet and hot beneath the grass negu she wore.
At last, though, the cool hand of the healer tugging at her made her break the kiss. Reluctantly, she left the big Kindred’s arms and turned to face Llewith.
“All right—I’m ready.” She looked back at Braxx. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll be there.” There was a low growl of desire in his deep voice that Molly felt right between her thighs. She was weak in the knees with need and fear as she finally turned and allowed the healer to lead her away.