Nineteen
Seated between Ki’san and his father, Tara tried to imitate the reverent attention of the others here as the elderly g’hir woman shuffled up to stand behind her and the clanfather. Of course the woman’s position there, behind her, meant that every eye was turned Tara’s way, dashing any hope that the crowd would stop staring at her.
The g’hir woman’s words were ritualistic, speaking of the A’rahan enclosure, of the Brothers and Sisters and the All Mother and a whole bunch of other stuff that Tara couldn’t follow. The woman spoke too with sorrow about those the enclosure had lost since the last gathering.
Then the woman formally announced Tara’s becoming one of their blood and followed with a heartfelt prayer—loudly echoed by the entire hall of g’hir—for her fertility to show itself abundant.
As soon as the orison concluded, Tara, mortified, fumbled at her cup hoping the thing held the Hir version of straight up vodka.
“The obeisance will fall to you at the next gathering,” E’lar leaned over to say as he plucked a piece of meat from one of the platters. “Be sure you are well versed by First Night.”
It was wine in her cup, heavy and sweet. Any port in a storm. She took another deep draft. “The obeisance?”
“The enclosure’s prayer to the All Mother. The official start of the winter gathering.” The clanfather glared. “You were listening, weren’t you?”
“You know,” she took another swallow, the wine burning its way down her throat. “I literally just returned from the dead. I’ll need a little time to get up to speed here.”
“I should think you would have time enough to become acquainted with at least some of our traditions,” the clanfather grumbled. “You have been on Hir for many days.”
Tara froze. “I have?”
“My mate awoke just today from her healing stasis.” Ki’san’s voice was even but firm. “To her awareness, she has been on Hir only a few short hours.”
“Then you have not explained her responsibilities to the enclosure?” The clanfather’s huffed. “I suppose that can hardly be a surprise.”
Ki’san’s eyes flashed and Tara quickly held up her cup.
“This is really good wine.” She looked between them, hoping to quell the tempest until they could at least get through the appetizers. “Don’t you think?”
The pair glared at once another then Ki’san broke off and grabbed his own goblet. He tipped the cup up, swallowed half the contents and put it right back down. “Excellent.”
She turned an expectant gaze on E’lar, and with a sour look he too sampled the wine.
The dishes offered were unfamiliar both in appearance and taste. Ki’san helped her choose from the many selections and the dizzying number of courses. They were rich offerings indeed, and she finally had to refuse any more.
“You do not care for our food?” E’lar asked.
“Everything’s delicious.” She settled back in her chair. “I’d eat more if I could. This whole thing reminds me a bit of Thanksgiving dinner.”
The clanfather raised a questioning eyebrow. “And that is?”
“A feast, celebrated on the part of Earth I’m from. We gather with family and friends and basically”—she laughed—“stuff ourselves silly.”
Her laughter brought startled looks from the other tables. she shifted uncomfortably at the heightened rumbles of conversation that followed.
It also had the unexpected effect of softening E’lar—a smidge.
“My negotiations with the council have progressed, Ki’san.” The clanfather spooned some blue vegetables, their leaves shiny with oil onto his plate. “But the cloud of suspicion hangs over you still. Two members of the council will visit our enclosure tomorrow to question you further.”
“During the gathering time?” Ki’san glanced at Tara. “I thought any decision on this would be set aside until the thaw.”
“And by then the council would be occupied with other business?” E’lar shook his head. “Do not underestimate the gavity of this matter. Only the support of your clanbrothers and my alliances among the northern enclosures has you sitting here instead of in that detention center.”
“I am thankful for the efforts you have put forth to secure my freedom,” Ki’san said, his voice rough. “That your influence permitted my return to Earth. You cannot know the depth of my gratitude to you in helping to protect the lifemate I have brought home.”
“We need every female if we are to survive,” E’lar said coldly. “Your own role is yet to be determined, healer.”
Ki’san paled. “Even you would not do such a thing.”
“Do what?” Tara demanded, looking between them.
“If you had chosen to be a warrior instead of healer,” the clanfather continued, “this would not be an issue.”
“I took the path,” Ki’san pushed his plate away, “the All Mother spoke into my heart.”
“If you wanted to be assured a place beside this human female,” E’lar glanced at Tara. “You should have listened to your heritage instead.” The clanfather’s glowing eyes narrowed. “And acted as true son of the A’rahan.”
“Thank you, Father, for yet another gathering that reminds me of why I left this clanhall in the first place.” Ki’san stood. “My lifemate requires rest. We will leave you to celebrate with your true clanbrothers.”
Tara stood too, letting Ki’san guide her across the dais, hundreds of lambent eyes tracking their progress out of the dining hall. Conversation rose in volume as soon as they were through the archway, and that just spurred Ki’san—who, with his superior hearing, likely could make out what they were saying where she couldn’t—to walk faster.
“E’shun!” He called out to an elderly g’hir, dressed in simpler clothing than the other men. “Where has the clanfather bid us to reside?”
“The second level, of course,” the old man fairly goggled at Tara. “To the rooms overlooking the Tal river.”
“A consummate maneuver,” Ki’san grumbled. “As always.”
“Lousy suite?” Tara asked as they headed for the wide, stone stairs.
“One chosen to send a message.”
He led her down the hallway and straight toward two ancient arched doors. He pushed them open and Tara followed him in, her eyes widening.
“Oh wow . . .”
The walls were white stone, and the beamed ceiling beat even Heatherbell’s for height. A series of high, lancet windows ran along the outer wall, the tops fitted with diamond cuts that shimmered in the light. The wooden floor, worn smooth by generations of g’hir ancestors, felt warm under her feet, and a cheerful fire burned in a fireplace big enough to stand in. More elaborate versions of the lamps Ki’san had strung in their dome on Earth lit the space with a golden glow. In the bedroom, a huge bed, heavily carved, piled high with pillows and white furs, faced identical arched windows. Furniture, sized for larger g’hir bodies and upholstered in soft fabrics, was scattered around in cozy conversation areas throughout; the suite even had its own dining room. Under the windows, in this room and bedroom, were long thickly-cushioned backless benches, allowing one to sit facing the view, or inward toward the rooms.
“So, uh,” Tara turned slowly as Ki’san shut the doors. The suite was part-ice queen palace and part medieval castle, managing somehow to be both majestic and welcoming. “Why is this bad again?”
“These have been the apartments of the A’rahan clanmother for a millennium. That you have taken possession of these rooms establishes your status within the enclosure. In this way, my father both communicates your importance to our clanbrothers and gives a warning the council dare not ignore. The council members will risk open rebellion in the high north,” he nodded toward the vista, “if they try to take you from this enclosure.”
The windows revealed a sweeping view of the mountains, the placid river below. Moonlight sparkled on the snow and water—very bright moonlight.
“There are three moons?” Tara craned her neck, leaning her cheek against the cold glass to look. “Hir has three moons?”
“The Sisters, yes.”
“And your two suns.” A little of the elderly g’hir woman’s speech making sense now. “They’re the Brothers, right? And they’re the All Mother’s children?”
“We are all Her children.”
“Even humans?”
Ki’san gave a faint smile. “Even humans.”
“I never had much use for religion.” Tara sat on the bench that ran along the windows, and brought her feet up, hugging her knees as she looked up at the Sisters. “Faith just seemed like trying to make sense out of stuff that just doesn’t. Maybe that’s why I never had any before.”
He sat beside her. “Before?”
“This is like a dream. I can’t believe I’m on another world.”
“I told you true, I hope.” He tilted his head. “And you have found Hir is not so different from Earth.”
“Except the language, the customs, the clothing, technology and the—what was it again?” She snapped her fingers. “Aliens.”
His smile turned a little rueful. “Are we so strange to you?”
“Considering I’ve been awake for just a couple hours? I’m going to go with ‘yes’.” Her glance took in the rooms, and by extension the rest of the structure, with a glance. “So is this your enclosure?”
“The building is the clanhall.” He indicated the snowy valley. “Our enclosure is the sum of our lands that extend outward from it.”
“How far?” She looked out over the moonlit landscape. “How far does the—our—enclosure go?”
“Beyond these mountains to the shore of the Lun sea.” At the raising of her eyebrows his smile widened. “Far. The lands of the high north are harsh, difficult to cultivate, the growing season short. The enclosures of the south—where the weather is more temperate—are smaller. To support those of the A’rahan blood we must have a great deal of land.”
“Of the A’rahan blood? Like me?”
“Like you.” He sighed. “I wish that my father had not offered such a poor welcome to your new home.”
“Hey, I grew up with Death standing at my bedside. One cranky guy won’t ruin this for me. I mean, did you see? I walked up here and I’m not even out of breath. I could run up and down those stairs! Well,” she grinned, “I could if I hadn’t eaten so much at dinner. But this—all of this convinced me there’s something. I don’t pretend to know what. But something. Something that got me across the galaxy.” She took his hand in hers. “To you.”
“And I,” he smiled back, his fingers intertwining with hers. “To you.”
“We’re together and I have time now.” She shrugged. “So who cares if everyone here thinks I’m weird-looking?”
Ki’san gave a surprised huff. “You mistake their stares. Human females are astonishingly lovely to us.” He cupped her cheek. “And I cannot even imagine one more beautiful than you, beloved.” He brushed the hair away from her eyes, a little pensive now. “Indeed, when the council members see you they are certain to believe me guilty.”
“That’s what tonight was about between you two? Your father’s worried about those councilors coming here tomorrow?”
“Do not hope his demeanor to be changed when the Brothers wake. He and I have long had a difficult relationship and our presence here has made his position an unenviable one. Human females can command the wealth of an entire enclosure. Only the council’s edict that a warrior must win his right to capture a mate on your world had prevented all-out war on this one. And it is a right I have not won.”
“What your father said downstairs—” She searched his gaze. “The council had you held in a detention cell?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I didn’t know.”
“It does not matter now. All that matters is that you are safe, that you are well.” His hand cradled hers. “That I am with you again.”
“You know what? The hell with the council.” She swung her legs down, her hand on the bench to lean close. “You won me fair and square.”
Tara brushed her nose up one side of his and down the other, and he quickly caught her mouth in a kiss. She gasped as he yanked her up, her fur cloak tossed aside. In the next instant, he swung her into his arms, and in a few long strides he was across the suite, kicking the door to the bedroom shut behind him.
Suddenly she was on her back, blinking up at him from the bed.
“You are healed now.” His fangs showed in a slow grin as he shrugged his own cloak off, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. “And I believe you have asked me more than once not to be ‘so careful’.”
“True,” she smiled back. “What did you have in mind?”
He tilted his head, studying her. Then he gripped her ankles and pulled her toward him, the movement sending the skirt of her dress bunching up around her middle. He pushed the hem higher, settling her thighs around his hips.
“Better,” he rumbled, his purr deeper than it had ever been before; her center was already tightening with it.
“Just”—her breath quickened as his fingers ran down the back of her thighs—“how much were you holding back?”
She gasped when with a quick movement of his fingers her underwear was in tatters.
He held up the torn undergarment. “A great deal.”
“I only have one dress,” she warned in mock-alarm as he tossed what remained of her underwear aside.
His palms ran down the backs of her thighs, his voice husky. “I am not after the dress.”
His fingers might have been rough with the panties, but they were gentle as they whispered over her folds, as his thumb stroked her clit, his purring making her arch under his touch.
He undid the front of his trousers, pulling them only low enough for his hard cock to spring free, and urged her legs wider. His eyes glowed with golden fire as he positioned the tip at her opening. He held her gaze as he raised her hips to enter her.
His eyes half shut in pleasure, his rumble-purr deepened, vibrating through her clit, raising her up to meet his thrusts till she cried out in climax. He shifted then, bending down even as his purring continued, his arm on the bed as his hand slipped around her waist and underneath her, increasing the arch in her back. He started to move inside her faster, and his mouth found that place she loved for him to nip her, the place where her neck and shoulder met. His rumbling vibrated through her and a gentle bite of his fangs sent her contracting hard around him. Two deep thrusts and he was pulsing just as hot inside her as she had remembered, sweeping away all those nights she wept for his loss.
He slid his cock out and lay beside her, drawing her close to his warmth as he settled the furs over her. They smiled at one another, their legs entwined.
“So,” her finger traced the skin of his chest. “If you’re the only son of the clanfather . . .”
“Now you know.” His smile turned rueful. “I too have a secret identity.”
“But my ancestors were peasants, not aristocrats. And you are an alien prince.”
“A disgraced prince,” Ki’san’s luminous glance turned toward the window, the mountainous frozen terrain beyond. “Of a very unforgiving kingdom.”