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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

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Immersed

Copyright © 2009 by Liz Craven

ISBN: 978-1-60504-267-1

Edited by Heidi Moore

Cover by Anne Cain

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2009

Immersed

Liz Craven

Dedication

For my island family. Pam for taking me in, Kendall and Nita for unflagging friendship, and David for braving us en masse on a weekly basis. Thank you for everything. I love you all.

Immersed

Chapter One

Ilexa struggled to breathe. The hot, thick air resisted her body’s attempts to pull it in and respire. Dizzy, she braced a hand against the nearest column and fought the instinctual panic that rose up. The foreign humidity and stagnant air rested against her skin, reminding her that she’d left all things familiar behind. Fighting to relax and let her body adjust, she focused on the feel of the column beneath her hand. Despite the day’s heat, it felt cool, but not smooth. The rough texture scratched against her palm. The distraction technique began working as she concentrated on the feel of the pillar. The heat of the day scorched the back of her hand in stark contrast to the cool column beneath her palm.

“The pillars have held this building up for several thousand years. I doubt they need your assistance to continue to do so.”

The dry tone and familiar voice drew Ilexa’s attention from her struggle. What in all the hells was this man doing here? She’d known he lived on Dunia, the governing planet of the Central Alliance, but that didn’t explain his presence. The only reason for his being there caused her blood pressure and temper to rise, effectively distracting her enough to allow her body to breathe easier.

“I suppose Talon called you,” she grated out.

“Of course.”

She had left her home and traveled across the galaxy for this very reason, to escape her important and overprotective family. She swung around to face Thane with righteous indignation—and pulled up short at the sight of him. Her brother’s close friend looked nothing like the League soldier she’d always known. He’d resigned his commission shortly after she’d last seen him, over two years ago. His hair had grown from the usual military crew cut to flow past his shoulders. In

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place of the molded body armor she was accustomed to, the man only wore a pair of lowslung leather pants. His bared chest revealed a tribal tattoo riding high on his right shoulder—a ferocious creature she’d never seen before using powerful wings to lift itself from blue-green, ocean waves.

It wasn’t the sight of the tattoo that made her mouth go dry, but the hard-muscled body revealed to her. The longer hair should have softened his features, made him look less dangerous than the soldier he had been. It didn’t. The raven-black hair hung straight past his shoulders and emphasized the harsh planes of his face. His ice-blue eyes glittered at her without a trace of warmth. He looked untamed, wild. The word barbarian floated across her brain.

She couldn’t believe the arrogant bastard had actually found a way to be more handsome. Damn him. The word delectable chased after barbarian, but she ruthlessly squashed it along with her attraction to the beautiful man. Thane had never seen her as anything other than Talon’s annoying little sister and he’d made it clear he’d only tolerated her existence because of her brother.

Straightening her spine, she ignored the trickles of sweat creeping down her back.

“I’ll be sure to tell Talon that you dutifully greeted his sister upon arrival.”

His dark eyebrows winged upwards at her cold words. “No insults? No laughter at my expense?”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed. She extended her hand politely to Thane. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Thane. If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet my cultural immersion counselor.”

He didn’t take her hand and those brows lowered, a furrow forming between them. He cocked his head to the side and studied her. It made her feel like a misbehaving pet. Uncomfortable, she withdrew her hand and hoisted her bag more securely onto her shoulder. She needed to find her counselor and luggage. The trip had exhausted her, and she didn’t enjoy Thane's scrutiny.

“I was surprised when your brother told me you had joined the Interplanetary Medical Exchange Program.”

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No shit. Everyone had been surprised, which only emphasized that no one paid any attention to her life. With conscious effort, she swallowed the bitterness. Self-destructive emotions affected her healing gift. Neutrally, she replied, “The IMEP is an excellent opportunity to expand my knowledge and skill.”

He frowned at her, and she wondered what he had expected. And why he was holding her up.

“You’ve changed.” He didn’t sound pleased. No doubt the arrogant louse objected to any alteration not personally approved by him.

“So have you,” she replied. It was true. If not for his devastating good looks and ability to make her pulse race, she never would have recognized the wild warrior before her as the straight-laced soldier she had known.

He hesitated, and she sensed he wanted to say something, but changed his mind.

“I really need to find my counselor,” she told him firmly. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“Your counselor will be joining us for dinner. Come and I’ll help you find your luggage.”

“My counselor was supposed to meet my shuttle,” she replied, feeling a touch of alarm. Then she registered what he'd said. “What do you mean by ‘joining us’? I don’t have time for an obligatory meal with an old acquaintance. There’s a lot to be done today.”

His mouth quirked in a slight smile. “It’s not an obligatory meal with an old acquaintance. For the duration of your stay on Dunia, you have been adopted into my tribe. Your counselor will join you and your tribe for dinner as is appropriate.”

She stared at him for a minute in stunned surprise. Oh hells no. She wasn’t getting roped into having a babysitter on this world. “As part of the IMEP, I am not subject to tribe affiliation.”

“The IMEP houses its medics with different tribes. You will be housed with my tribe.”

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She was going to kill Talon. Damn Big Brother and his overprotective meddling. Years of practice allowed Ilexa to keep a serene expression on her face, despite the fury welling within her. “I’ve read the IMEP rules for the Central Alliance. I am allowed to have some input on choosing the tribe with which I will live. The decision will be made once I meet with my counselor.”

“That is generally true,” he conceded. “However, given you are the sister-in-law to a planetary sovereign, the Intertribal Council voted to assign you a tribe in advance. The decision is out of your hands.”

Her anger spiked so strongly it almost blinded her. “Why would they do that?”

“To ensure you had strong warriors to protect you even before you landed. Risking a family member of the Damaia of N’yota could have significant diplomatic repercussions,” he explained smoothly.

She wasn’t buying it. “Talon asked you to take me into your tribe and watch over me.”

Thane didn’t look remotely repentant. “He did. The Council agreed.”

She wanted to scream. She knew the Council would never reconsider its decision, not at risk of upsetting N’yota. Her planet held the most sought-after power source in the known worlds. Pacifying her brother and sister-in-law certainly took precedent over her wishes.

She managed a controlled, polite nod of her head. Realizing she was close to losing control of the volatile emotions roiling within her, she shoved the issue of tribe affiliation aside. She’d deal with that when she felt less exhausted. “In that case, I’d like to find my luggage and get out of this heat.”

He nodded back and held out his hand, palm up. Surprised because he had rejected her handshake, she laid her hand in his. He squeezed gently and released it with a twitch of his lips. “Give me your bag.”

Embarrassed at misunderstanding his request for her bag, she tugged the strap off her shoulder and passed it to him. He turned and she reluctantly followed him to find her luggage.

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It was going to be a very long year.

***

Ilexa pointed out her bags to him, and he dutifully fetched them without comment. His reunion with his friend’s sister had not been what he expected. He’d been amused when Talon called to ask him to keep an eye on Ilexa. Thane would have watched over her even without Talon’s request. He’d known her for years, and Talon had completed the right of amini, making him Thane’s blood brother. Honor demanded he guard his blood brother’s sister. Of course, the situation would be less complicated if his body didn’t react like a randy stag every time he drew near her. He reminded himself that a physical reaction to an attractive female was natural and tried to focus on the mundane task of retrieving the bags.

Despite being as hard as a rock, he found himself worrying about the woman behind him, trying to analyze her behavior. Who knew both of his heads could function at once?

He’d scoffed at Talon’s concern over the changes in Ilexa’s behavior. When it came to his only sister, Talon worried like a mother hen. Now, he understood his old friend’s concern and shared it.

Grabbing the second bag, he turned back to face Ilexa. She looked like every man’s wet dream in the solid blue unitard with the IMEP logo emblazoned across her chest. Her moonbeam hair was twisted up into a tight bun, but he remembered it flowing loosely around that slender, yet curved-in-the-right-places body. Her luminous silver eyes were still almond shaped and tilted slightly up at the ends, still fringed with incredibly long white-blonde lashes, but the laughter that used to dance in their depths was silent and still. As if someone had snuffed out the joy in them like blowing out a candle. His heart hurt at the loss of her joy and laughter, but he assured himself it was because he didn’t want to see Talon’s sister suffering. It had nothing to do with Ilexa herself.

Hauling her two bags, both of which likely weighed more than she did, Thane headed towards the exit, addressing her over his shoulder. “My transport is this way.”

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To his disappointment, she nodded politely and followed him, her eyes flickering around the disembarkation station. He had a sudden memory of her standing on DeKalb station with wide, innocent eyes that drank in the sights and sounds that must have seemed strange to someone who had never before left her homeworld—a homeworld struggling to rebuild after millennia of war. The calm, almost disinterested expression he now saw in those same eyes caused pangs near his heart. He unlocked the transport with the remote and opened the door for Ilexa. “I’ll store these in the back bin.”

She ignored him as she settled into her seat. Irritated with both her detached behavior and his concern, he shoved her bags into the transport and slammed the bin closed. Settling into the driver’s seat, he turned his attention back to her. Determined to find out what made her join the IMEP, he bluntly stated, “I would have expected you to stay on N’yota until after Lia gave birth.”

Ilexa bristled in the seat beside him, and her voice held shards of ice when she replied, “There are other competent healers, not to mention countless doctors, on N’yota. I assure you, Lia will be in good hands.”

“I would have thought she’d prefer the services of her sister-in-law. The two of you grew close on the trip from Tmesis to N’yota.” He watched her face for any telltale sign she might show.

“Lia and I are close,” she almost hissed, telling him he’d struck a nerve. “Should she find she desires my healing services, I have no doubt I’ll be on the first ship back to N’yota.”

“If you are so close, what made you abandon her to brave the uncivilized worlds of the Central Alliance?” he taunted.

Her already neutral face closed off, giving her a shuttered look. “My reasons are my own.”

He scowled at the tight-lipped reply. “Even if it causes your family pain?”

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She sucked in a loud breath and turned those beautiful eyes on him. For the first time, they reflected something other than indifference, and the anger in them made his heart sing.

“How dare you? I would never cause my family a moment of suffering.”

“Then why are you here, if not to punish them?” he asked.

“Is that what you think? Is that what they think? That I signed my life over to the IMEP to punish them for some reason?”

He kept his expression schooled to indifference. It wouldn’t help for her to see his amusement or relief at the return of her notorious temper. “Then why did you do it?

You’ve attained the highest echelon of your planet’s healers. Why sign a year of your life over to the IMEP like a fresh, med-school grad or healer’s apprentice?”

For a moment, he thought he might get an answer—an honest admission from her—

but then, that cold shield between her and the rest of the world settled back into place.

“My reasons are my own,” she repeated and turned to look out the window at the passing scenery.

The rest of the trip passed in silence.

***

The transport halted atop a large, imposing mountain. A heavy metal gate over an obvious entrance began to creak as it slowly rose.

Turning to Thane, she asked in the most supercilious tone she could manage, “You live in a cave?”

To her disappointment, Thane ignored her snide tone. “You will find Dunia and the other Central Alliance worlds an odd mixture of primitive and high-tech. Our tribe’s leading families live within this mountain fortress.”

“The IMEP failed to mention I would be denied basic necessities,” she sniped, just to be contrary.

“If you would like to cancel your contract, I assure you the Tribal Council will support you. You can return to N’yota on the next ship.”

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His continued belief that a little hardship would send her running had her digging in her heels. “I’m certain I will adapt with ease.”

The surprise in his blue eyes offended her, even though he recovered quickly. “I look forward to seeing you settle into our tribe.”

Gritting her teeth, she replied as impersonally as possible. “I’m certain our tribe will embrace me wholeheartedly.”

The skeptical look he gave her scraped along her skin, but she managed to ignore it. Without waiting for Thane to circle the transport and assist her, she opened the door and leapt to the ground.

There was a mournful desolation to the desert landscape. Great expanses of emptiness, despite the brush and few scattered trees, stretched around them. The mountains that crested in the distance framed the stark landscape, amplifying the bareness.

A decorator would have called the Hakimu view a “neutral palette”. Washed-out browns covered the earth—from the hard-packed desert dirt, to the scrub brush, to the obvious signs of human living etched into the mountain. The rare splash of color, whether from a lone yellow tree, a cactus bloom or a passing speeder, drew her eye like a siren’s song and underscored the harshness of the color void. Even the sky seemed leeched of color, leaving it a pale powder blue instead of the vibrant indigo of home. But unlike the N’yotan sky, the Dunian sky stretched endlessly above the unrelieved landscape, making her feel small and insignificant, dwarfed by the unending expanse of terrain and sky. Not even the Bahari Ocean conveyed such a feeling of insignificance and isolation.

Often, the ocean was described as dangerous in powerful and poetic terms. Its mighty waves and tides, coupled with the unseen life teeming below the surface, were reminders of what an active threat nature could be. But the desert made her realize that the real threat of nature was not when it acted, but when it didn’t. They had covered a great distance from the transport station, but Ilexa hadn’t realized they had also gained such drastic altitude. The cold sliced through the thin skin 12

Immersed

of the unitard. The unexpectedness of the temperature difference made the chill all the more shocking, and Ilexa felt the same icy, needle-sharp pricks of cold as she had when Bastian had pushed her into a glacial river when she was nine. An elegant woman appeared at the mouth of the cave where Thane had parked. She stood silent and regal. Blue-black hair streaked with silver hung to the woman’s calves. Her green eyes glowed with otherworldly light, but the lack of welcome they held froze the blood in Ilexa’s veins.

Thane went down on one knee and lowered his head. In a reverent tone he said,

“Malkia.”

Uncertain what to do, Ilexa chose to remain standing. She inclined her head and silently cursed Thane. If her damned cultural immersion counselor had bothered to show up, she’d have been briefed on how to handle such an important woman. The woman moved to where Ilexa stood, and much to her annoyance, circled her with an appraising eye. Ilexa felt like a beast of burden going up for auction. With effort, she bit her tongue and managed to not make snarky comment.

“So this is the woman who believes herself worthy of joining the Hakimu tribe,” the elder woman’s voice dripped with something close to condescension.

“May I present Ilexa Dhakir. A healer and daughter of N’yota,” Thane intoned without lifting his head.

The elder sniffed in disdain. “No woman not of the Central Alliance has ever joined the noble Hakimu tribe. I doubt this daughter of N’yota even understands the honor bestowed upon her.”

Ilexa didn’t know the proper etiquette for dealing with a Malkia. Hells, she didn’t even know what Malkia meant. The word had no corresponding concept in N’yotan or her translation implant would have provided it for her. She had learned the three main languages of the Central Alliance, but she had expected the translator to be a nice backup. She should have saved her money. Regardless, Ilexa did know insults when she heard them and would be damned before she stood there and let such affronts go unchallenged.

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Narrowing her eyes at the Malkia, Ilexa carefully clenched her fists. She kept her tone as polite as possible when she said, “She is capable of speaking for herself. Perhaps I don’t know the ‘honor’ bestowed upon me, but I do know when I’m being insulted. Is this how the Hakimu tribe extends its hospitality? Is this how it welcomes a new tribe member—with no invitation to enter the tribal dwelling? With cold dismissal and no welcome? Without the courtesy of even addressing the new member to her face? Tell me, Malkia, what about the Hakimu tribe have I seen that should make me feel honored to join it?”

She could feel Thane’s shock that she would address one so revered with such lack of respect, but she kept her gaze fixed on the Malkia. The elderly woman met her eyes for the first time, but those glowing green eyes revealed none of her thoughts or emotions. After an endless moment, the Malkia gave a sniff, and turned to look at Thane. “Her chamber is prepared.” With that, she turned and strode back into the mountain.

Ilexa watched her go. So caught up in planning diabolical ways to torture the missing cultural immersion counselor, she shrieked in surprise when Thane grabbed her by the upper arm and spun her around to face him. To her everlasting embarrassment, the surprise had her off balance and she would have fallen if Thane hadn’t latched onto her other arm as well.

Thane’s face remained expressionless, but fury stormed behind his eyes. “Do you have any idea who you just insulted?”

“You must have missed the conversation,” she shot back. “I was the one insulted.”

Using his grip on her upper arms, he hauled her to her tiptoes and lowered his face to meet hers. “You are not on N’yota any more. Things are done differently on Dunia. As a member of our tribe, you will be expected to abide by our societal rules. Speaking to the Malkia with such disrespect is not going to be tolerated.”

“I’m well aware that things are done differently on Dunia,” she said as coldly as she could manage. “That’s why the counselor was supposed to meet me.”

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He gave her a little shake. “Don’t play dumb. You knew how important she is by my actions.”

“I never said I didn’t know she was important, but I was guessing blindly at how I was to react to her insults. On N’yota, letting someone treat you like that would broadcast you were a doormat. On the Inderian Motherland, it would get you killed. The Central Alliance is so damned secretive I had no way to deduce how to handle her insults.”

He growled something too low on the register for her to make out the words and unceremoniously dropped his hold on her. She staggered before catching herself, narrowly missing winding up on her rump.

“Your chambers are this way,” he snapped and strode through the entrance. A younger man passed Thane on his way out, nodding politely. The man ignored Ilexa altogether, and she glanced over her shoulder to see him heading towards the transport. She hoped he would bring her bags and turned to hurry after Thane—who moved so fast she didn’t have time to study the interior of the mountain she now called home.

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Chapter Two

She stepped into the blessed solitude of her “chamber”, letting the heavy door close behind her. Alone, she let the confident façade she wore like armor melt and puddle at her feet. Her shoulders slumped, and she unclenched her fists. Tears of frustration and anger sprang to her eyes as she sank to the ground.

Heedless of the tears, Ilexa raised her palms and studied the damage. Two deep, halfmoon puncture wounds marred the smooth skin of her left palm, blood seeping sluggishly from them. It was an old trick, but it worked.

Tears had been her enemy since childhood. As involuntary a reaction for her as a heartbeat. Unfortunately, it gave people the idea she was weak. As though tear ducts that didn’t obey commands reflected the strength—or lack thereof—of her character or her will.

She’d learned as a child that pain could interrupt the signal her brain sent to her eyes. A valuable lesson for a little girl with five brothers. Usually, biting her tongue or cheek was enough, but the overwhelming stress of the day necessitated the endorphins that came from drawing blood. She hated having to do that. It made it hard to hide the trick when she had to explain why she was bleeding. She never bit her cheek or tongue hard enough to draw blood. Mouth wounds bled copiously, and it was much harder to hide a blood-filled mouth than an injured palm. Not to mention swallowing blood nauseated her. She only hoped no one asked about the scabs.

Without her bags, she couldn’t treat the cuts. Instead, she pressed two fingers from the other hand against them and applied pressure. Aware that she would likely not be alone long—if nothing else, someone had to deliver her bags—she needed to compose herself. She looked up to locate a mirror and nearly gasped at her first real look at her room.

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Never one for camping, the idea of spending a year in a cave had caused dread to settle in her stomach. If her chamber offered any clue to her life in the mountain, she had nothing to fear.

The stone walls had been smoothed so they gleamed and reminded her of the slate fireplace in the family area of the Prophecy Palace. A thick rug woven with a complicated pattern of deep reds covered the floor. She saw a small, but opulent bathroom through an open door and next to it, a closet more than adequate for her IMEP

uniforms.

She sat on the bed and was pleased with the firmness of the mattress. The layout of the room included a reading chair, a bedside table with scented candles and large dresser with a mirror against the wall by the door.

A sharp knock drew her attention, and she swiped at her face to remove the lingering traces of moisture. Exploring her new rooms had served as an excellent distraction and she no longer felt like a blubbering two-year-old.

Opening the door revealed the young man who’d been heading towards Thane’s transport. He was holding her bags and panting. “How much clothing did you bring?”

She smiled. “Just a few uniforms and a couple of changes of regular clothing. The rest of it is reference books.”

“Lady, you must have more books in here than all the Central Alliance libraries combined. You couldn’t use a data pad?”

“No.” She didn’t elaborate. The kid didn’t need to know the healer’s tradition of handwritten journals and guides.

He grunted and mopped his brow with a hand. “Dinner’s in an hour. Follow the hallway until you reach a ramp that leads down. Keep going down and you’ll find the great hall.”

She nodded, but he’d already stopped staring at her chest and was heading down the hallway. The unpleasant task of unpacking loomed before her, but the time lag before dinner didn’t allow for a nap, so she had little option but to find a place for her things.

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Soon she found herself splashing cold water on her face and heading to the great hall. The hallways through the mountain didn’t appear to be naturally made, but she saw no evidence of tool marks. The arched hallway curved with the smoothness of a snake and felt slick beneath her hand. En route, several up-ramps branched off in graceful sweeps, the edges framed with rich hued wood for decoration. A down-ramp branched to her right and curved around to enter the center of the great hall. People milled around while others sat at long tables that appeared to be removable.

“Hall” didn’t do the cavernous expanse justice. A huge fire pit sat in the center of the room, but the room didn’t fill with smoke, despite the lack of chimney. Looking up, she couldn’t make out the ceiling against the darkness, but assumed some sort of exhaust system pulled the smoke out.

Gorgeous tapestries hung on the walls and a long, intricately woven rug stretched from the oversized doors across the hall and split to encircle the fire pit. It ended at the edge of the ramp. From her elevated position, she saw the weaving created images of the same creature tattooed on Thane’s chest.

“I was looking for you.”

The voice startled her, but she managed to control herself⎯jerking rather than leaping from her skin. She turned. “You were?”

Thane scowled at her. “I came to get you for dinner.”

“The young man who brought my bags gave me dinner instructions.”

He didn’t look appeased. “Come with me. You and I will be joining the Malkia at the head table for dinner.”

Well, didn’t that sound as much fun as facing a drunken pirate with an armed laser?

“Why?”

“Why?” he asked, hauling her towards the table that sat above the others, one arm wrapped firmly around her biceps.

“Why are we sitting with the Malkia?”

“It’s a formal meal to welcome you to the tribe. It’s an honor to sit with the Malkia.”

“Why are you sitting with us?”

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“I’m the Knife of the Hakimu. I’ve earned a seat at the table.”

She fumed at the implication that she had no business being there. “Surely I can be honored and still sit elsewhere.”

He jerked to a stop, forcing her to do the same as he still held her arm. “You will not insult the Malkia again.”

“She insulted me,” Ilexa pointed out through gritted teeth. She was tired and more than a little cranky. Talon was lucky he was light years away from her. Right now, she wanted to crack his head like a nut for sticking her with Thane and his tribe.

“Let it go, Ilexa. The Malkia is our leader and deserving of respect.”

The dismissive tone told her he was done talking. She let it drop, recognizing that as tired as she was, she would likely come across sounding like a bitch. If she was going to be bitchy, she wanted there to be no doubt it was intentional. They’d reached the table when the Malkia swept in, a striking, silver-headed man at her side. He stood a few inches taller than the Malkia and despite his age, had the hardmuscled body of a warrior. The sharp, angular facial features reminded her of a relief she’d once seen carved into granite. Together, the two made a striking couple. Even without the way the milling tribe members parted for them, they would have drawn her attention.

Thane must have followed her eyes. “That’s Rhys. He’s the Malkia’s consort and the highest ranking warrior, the Sword of the Hakimu.”

“I bet you could take him.” She wanted to slap her hand over her mouth. Exhausted from her trip, she’d clearly lost some mental-filtering capabilities. A grin flitted across Thane’s face and she wondered if he’d been flattered by her observation or amused at her idiocy.

“The consort is always the Sword, but no Sword has ever been a poor warrior. His primary responsibility is the Malkia. Then the tribe. And don’t let his age fool you. He’s a powerful warrior.”

She nodded, not trusting her tongue. Then, she noticed something else. “No one’s kneeling.”

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“What?” Thane paused in pulling out her seat.

“No one’s kneeling to the Malkia.” Accusation entered her voice. “You kneeled.”

“All tribe members kneel when a new tribe member is first presented to the Malkia. That is the only time we bend knee to anyone.”

She should know these things. “Where is my cultural immersion counselor? Will he or she join us at this table or will we meet after dinner?”

“Your counselor hasn’t arrived.”

“What? Why not?”

“I don’t know. Probably some bureaucratic delay. For now, just follow my lead.”

The Malkia nodded to the two of them and took her seat at the center of the table. Rhys sat to her left, Thane to her right. Ilexa sat next to Thane. A beautiful woman slipped into the seat next to Ilexa as the Malkia rose. The seating of the Malkia must have been some unspoken etiquette signal, because every tribe member had taken a seat by the time the woman rose.

“We welcome a new addition to the tribe tonight. The healer, Ilexa Dhakir, joins us from the planet N’yota to share her healing skills with our doctors while learning our medical skills.”

“Heyla. ” The tribe cheered.

“Smile,” Thane hissed at her.

She smiled and nodded at the seated throng.

“A N’yotan healer’s gift is negatively effected by violence. Therefore, I am excusing Ilexa from any and all warrior training and warrior rites. No challenges may be issued, because the challenge cannot be answered.”

Silence descended upon the tribe.

It became hard to hold the smile as the heavy weight of the tribe’s eyes bore into her.

“Ilexa is sister-in-law to the Damaia of N’yota. Her brother, the first minister of N’yota, specifically requested the strength of the Hakimu protect his sister⎯”

The roar of approval drowned out the Malkia’s next words. 20

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She paused and waited for the vocals to die down. “Though her ways are different, in the spirit of the IMEP, I ask you to welcome our new healer.”

A cheer and polite applause sounded. Ilexa glanced at Thane, but his face remained impassive. Uncertain if she should respond, she offered a gentle wave. Ilexa sent a prayer of thanks that the side doors opened to reveal tribe members carrying plates of steaming food and glasses of amber liquid. Attention quickly diverted to the trays and the Malkia settled in her seat.

Rhys engaged Thane in a quiet discussion and it took more effort than she wanted to admit to keep her spine straight.

“So, you are the woman Thane has been forced to babysit.”

Ilexa turned to meet the poison-green eyes of the woman next to her. Hate contorted her features, detracting from her beauty. Stunned by the hatred emanating from the woman, Ilexa fell back on politeness. “I’m Ilexa Dhakir. I’m a healer from N’yota.”

“I am Karia Shantra, the highest ranking female warrior of the Hakimu.”

It’s a pleasure to meet you, she though sarcastically. “I didn’t realize women could be tribal warriors.”

“If you had listened to the Malkia’s speech, you would know we are.”

Ilexa tried not to grind her teeth. Reminding herself that exhaustion made her shorttempered, she consciously swallowed the smart retort that rose. Instead, she asked politely, “How did you rise to lead the women warriors?”

“I am the most deadly of women fighters.”

“The men and women train separately?”

Karia speared her with a vicious expression. “Women and men train separately, but we have fought side by side for centuries to defend this keep.”

Ilexa refrained from asking when the last time that occurred. She’d bet her life savings it had been centuries before Karia had been born. “That’s a noble thing.”

“Far more noble than you will ever be able to understand.”

It was official. She hated the bitch next to her. Instead of making a smart-ass response, Ilexa took a swallow of wine.

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“Being Hakimu means being a warrior,” Karia continued. “You should be warned, no Hakimu man will forge a relationship with a woman who cannot fight.”

Somehow, Ilexa doubted Karia was offering such information out of the goodness of her heart. Especially given the possessive looks the woman was casting towards Thane. Message received. Ilexa swallowed a bite of roasted vegetables, which suddenly tasted like sawdust.

For some reason, her thoughts turned to Thane’s mother. She knew the woman had died when he was young and his father was in the Senate. Now she wondered if his mother had died in some sort of barbaric challenge.

Two warriors rose, walked to the head table, bowed and crossed the great hall to pull the large, wooden doors open. It took quite a bit of heaving effort. Curious, she kicked Thane under the table.

He glared at her, but extracted himself from his conversation with Rhys. “Are you okay?”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re expecting the return of a rite-of-passage hunting party.”

Through the doors, she realized the great hall opened over a large plateau. She didn’t believe she’d descended deep enough to reach the base of the mountain and wondered if the flat expanse was manmade or a natural geological formation. Across the vista, she could see the two moons of Dunia, but no stars. As she studied the alien sight, a middleaged man raced in through the doors. She hadn’t noticed him approaching, but his head appeared first, which meant some stairs or another ramp led up to the keep through those doors. The man didn’t slow, but hurtled towards the head table, sliding to a stop before the Malkia. He bowed his head. “Malkia, the young hunter was attacked by a culia in heat. His arm is almost completely severed.”

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Chapter Three

Ilexa watched more warriors carry a young man in on a stretcher. Even from a distance, she could tell that he needed critical care. Why in all the hells had they brought him here instead of to a hospital?

Two men dressed in loincloths— loincloths—and with tattoos reminiscent of Thane’s carried the litter past the tables to the sunken area in the center of the great hall. They lay the wounded man down beside the roaring fire and knelt by his side. Ilexa skirted the long table and tried to approach the litter. If one could call him a man. He barely looked old enough to shave. Thane caught her upper arm in a bruising grip and shook his head at her. She glared back.

“That boy needs a hospital,” she snarled.

Thane shook his head at her again. “He has chosen to pass through the veil rather than live as a cripple.”

“His arm can be reattached.” She struggled to free herself from his grip.

“Possibly, but if not, he will be forced to live out the remainder of his life as an object of pity. The claws of a culia contain a poison that causes muscle and tissue necrosis,” Thane explained. “Instead of living without his arm, he has chosen an honorable death.”

“Honorable? There is nothing honorable about dying for no reason.”

“He incurred injury hunting in the tradition of our ancestors and chooses to join them rather than forgo life as a warrior. His choice is most honorable.”

“You don’t actually believe that?” she demanded.

The Malkia approached the young man. “Tafari, you have been gravely wounded and brought to the heart of your tribe. What is your request?”

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“I’ve lost my arm,” the boy managed in a hoarse whisper that the room’s acoustics amplified. “I choose to join the ancestors as a warrior.”

Rhys approached the litter, a naked sword in his hand.

“I can save his arm,” Ilexa shouted, wrenching free from Thane’s grip and running across the great hall before her mind could process her actions.

“This matter doesn’t concern you, outsider,” Rhys snarled, stepping between Ilexa and Malkia with the blade still in his hand.

“I can save his arm,” she insisted. She shoved him out of her way, not breaking stride, desperation lending her strength. If the situation hadn’t been dire, she would have found the stunned expression on the man’s face as he fell on his ass hilarious. Instead, she stumbled, tripping to a stop and landing on her knees. She glared up at the Malkia. “I can save his arm and his life. He will still be a warrior.”

It was a bold claim, especially given that she hadn’t examined the patient. What’s more, this was not the type of injury that would normally receive her healing gift. The injury could be repaired with traditional medicine, surgery and physical therapy. Her old master would have her head if he ever learned of this. But it was a case of life or death, and Ilexa would bend the rules until they broke if it meant she could save the youth’s life. Her eyes clashed with the glowing green gaze of the most revered woman of the Hakimu tribe. Something flickered in the depths of those green eyes. Something Ilexa couldn’t name, but hope flared in her chest. The Malkia didn’t want to end the young man’s life. Infusing her voice with as much confidence as possible, Ilexa repeated, “I can save him.”

“You swear your life on this?” the Malkia asked.

“No,” another voice shouted, enraged. A warrior with a wild, tawny mane of hair and eyes so brown they appeared black stormed towards Ilexa and the litter. “This outsider seeks to deny my son an honorable death. I won’t allow it.”

The wounded warrior’s father drew his sword, and Rhys, the warrior she’d knocked on his ass, took a defensive position before her. Great. Now she owed the man an apology. Assuming he managed to stop the enraged father from killing her—and his son. 24

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“Hold, Gerund,” the Malkia’s voice rang with authority. “She has sworn her own life. Her honor is entwined with his. I will allow her to heal his arm. Should she fail, he will still have the choice of joining the ancestors.”

“But as a cripple, not a warrior,” Gerund spat.

“In that event, her spirit will answer to the fury and vengeance of our ancestors.” The Malkia turned her glowing gaze back to Ilexa. “You may heal his arm.”

Ilexa swallowed against the nerves dancing in her throat. In truth, she had no fear for herself. If the young man died, he’d take her with him. She felt the heavy weight of all the eyes in the hall. Even without looking, she sensed the disbelief, the doubt that she had the strength to save him—the fear for the young man whose life she held. She feared their disappointment more than her death.

Thrusting her fear and worry aside, she assumed the mantle of a high healer and leaned forward to assess her patient. Relief and concern assailed her when she realized he had lost consciousness. Unconscious meant he couldn’t fight her healing, but he had an unhealthy grayish cast to his skin that caused her great concern. She turned her focus to his injury. Something had shredded the skin of his upper arm, laying it open more like a slab of meat than a human appendage. She had to focus to make out the torn muscle and shattered bone. Miraculously, whatever had attacked him only nicked the brachial artery, but the blood loss was still severe.

“I need a tourniquet to stem the blood flow while I work,” she said A beautiful bafta silk scarf appeared, and Ilexa looked up with surprise to see the Malkia tying it above the wound. Her estimation of the woman rose, and she nodded her thanks. Satisfied that the tourniquet was tight enough, she turned her focus inward. In normal circumstances, she used her gift to encourage the body to heal itself, to tie the spirit tighter to the body, or to convince the body to relinquish pain. To connect with her patient, she would slowly sink into a healing trance before beginning her delicate work. She’d drop her consciousness into the center of her body and pull her spirit together, coaxing it from beneath her skin and rolling it into a ball that could travel into

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her patient’s body. She had no concept of how she left her body for the patient’s. She just found herself there once she finished gathering her spirit, her chi, into her center. Ilexa had always found trauma work difficult, although she only used her gift to shore up a person’s psyche, to help them hold on while doctors repaired the physical body. Though tiring, her trauma work only required a minimal trance, one she could slip into within seconds. This injury would require more, much more. Likely, the deepest trance she could manage and a great deal of her personal energies. She didn’t have the luxury of sinking into the healing trance. The blood loss made the injury life-threatening, and she didn’t completely trust these people not to kill her patient while she worked if they didn’t see results fast enough. She inhaled, then plunged into her trance, ripping her chi from its normal resting place beneath her skin, causing her body to scream in agony as it felt her soul being torn away. A push of energy and she wrenched herself away from her body with a rending tear. With effort, she kept focused, ignoring the searing pain until it completely faded and she coalesced into a bodiless being. For the first time, she remained aware of herself as she traveled from her flesh into the young man’s body. She found the experience disorienting and unpleasant. Despite not having a physical form, she still felt cold. The heat from the nearby fire failed to touch her as she scrambled towards the young man. Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t thought to ask her patient’s name.

When Ilexa sank into the chest of her patient, the heat of his sluggish bloodstream provided blessed warmth. His life spark pulsed a fading light and she surrounded it with warmth and wordless reassurance. It took more energy than she wanted to expend, but she managed to convince him to trust her. She couldn’t regret the additional effort it took. Healing his arm would be pointless if he surrendered his spirit. Satisfied with his will to live, she traveled his circulatory system to the injured arm. She “saw” the tattered remains of his arm and went to work. Time ceased to exist as she focused all that she was into repairing the damage. She worked from the inside out, putting his arm together like she would a jigsaw puzzle, matching pieces to one another. 26

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With careful precision, she used energy like glue to seal the underside of the puzzle pieces.

By the time she reached the skin, she had to fight to keep her essence together. She had never worked so long and so hard. Warnings from her early training days clamored like alarm bells. She ignored them, knowing that if she failed, it meant her patient’s life. The very idea of the waste of that life galvanized her to keep going. She’d only managed the initial skin patch, when she began to fade. Ilexa struggled to finish. The thinness of the layer of skin she’d managed to create to seal the ragged flesh meant scarring that might cripple him. Before she could reinforce the fragile skin, she felt herself slip away.

***

Thane kept his face implacable as he faced the N’yotan healer, Marlus, on the view screen. The man’s professional manner and cool exterior did nothing to disguise the seriousness of Ilexa’s condition. Fear and guilt gnawed at his stomach with renewed vengeance.

He’d intended the return of the hunting party—tribal symbols painted on them in the blood of their kill and the gutted carcass they carried—to shock Ilexa into returning home. Or at least to make her rethink her decision to come to Dunia. Instead, he’d nearly killed her.

“Ilexa is my finest pupil,” the healer said, shaking his head. “I can’t imagine what possessed her to do this. She has always strictly adhered to the Healer’s Canons. To risk her gift—her life—on such an injury may not be a technical violation of the Canons, but it certainly violates the spirit of them.”

“The patient she was saving would have chosen ritual suicide over his injury,” Thane explained quietly.

The gray-haired healer nodded in understanding. “I see. If she was his only hope, Ilexa wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice herself for her patient.”

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“She had almost completely healed Tafari, her patient, when she suddenly keeled over. Neither she nor Tafari have regained consciousness.”

“How long since she collapsed?”

“It’s been about four standard hours,” Thane admitted. “Our medics have tried everything they could think of, but there has been no change in either of their conditions.”

“Have you separated them?”

“No, they are both in our medical facility.”

Marlus shook his head. “They need to be as close as possible. Physically touching. It is possible that part of Ilexa’s spirit remains in Tafari’s body. The more distance between Ilexa and her spirit means a greater risk to her.”

“What can we do to draw her spirit out of Tafari and back into herself?” Thane asked.

“If she were here, another healer could help conduct her spirit home, but we have no other healers on Dunia or anywhere close enough to reach her in time. You have no spiritual healers?”

“We have priests who provide spiritual counseling and guidance. Nothing similar to N’yotan healers.”

“Perhaps they could try? Encourage her to return to her own body?”

“I’ll ask.” Thane fought the urge to slump his shoulders. “What about Tafari?”

“The young man should be in no danger.” Marlus turned his head and studied something to the side of the screen. “I’m looking over his medical report right now. His arm will require further treatment to prevent the scar tissue along his arm from drawing up and handicapping him, but he will regain consciousness. Either when Ilexa’s spirit returns to her body…or when it ceases to exist.”

Thane swallowed hard. “We will do our best to save her.”

“We will keep Ilexa and Tafari in our prayers.” Marlus bowed his head formally.

“Contact me if you have any more questions or if there is any change in their conditions.”

“I will,” Thane promised and terminated the connection. 28

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He turned to face the Malkia who had remained off screen for the conversation. She nodded to the doctor who had witnessed the conversation, prepared to ask any necessary questions. The doctor bowed and left to relay Marlus’s instructions to the medical ward. The Malkia fixed him with her ethereal gaze and regarded him silently for a moment.

“Ilexa Dhakir came to the Hakimu because I allowed it. Moreover, she has saved the life of my grandson. Contacting her family is my obligation and duty.”

Deity help him, Thane wanted to say yes. He wanted to step aside and let the Malkia contact Talon. He closed his eyes and mentally squared his shoulders. Talon deserved to hear the news from him. “With respect, Malkia, Talon Dhakir is my blood brother. Notifying him of his sister’s…misfortune while in the care of the Hakimu is my responsibility.”

“As you wish.”

To Thane’s surprise, the Malkia dropped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed before leaving the communications office. Her supportive gesture bolstered him and he initiated one of the hardest calls he would ever make.

Talon’s face appeared on the screen immediately with alarm etched into every feature.

“I was just pulled from a meeting with the Inderian ambassador. My aide says Ilexa’s mentor was contacted regarding an emergency. What’s wrong? Where’s my sister?”

Guilt swamped Thane. “She attempted to heal a young member of my tribe. As best I understand, the injury was so severe that Ilexa risked her life to save him. She collapsed when she had nearly completed the healing. Marlus believes part of her spirit may still reside inside him. Without another N’yotan healer, we have no sure way to direct her spirit back to her body.”

Talon ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll get a healer there as soon as possible.”

“Marlus indicated none was close enough to be here…” He let his voice trail off.

“He did indicate that Ilexa may manage to extract herself on her own. Our priests will do whatever they can to assist her.”

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“She’s been so different lately. So withdrawn. She would never speak of it. If we tried to draw her out, she’d paste a false smile on her face and say she was fine. I had hoped that this experience would restore her happiness.” Talon fixed Thane with a haunted gaze. “I still don’t know why she was unhappy and now…”

The unspoken thought, the guilt of a brother floated on the air, heavy and tangible, mingling with Thane’s own. “I swear to you, Talon. I will do everything possible to bring her back.”

Talon nodded. His voice sounded thick, hoarse when he replied, “Please let me know if there is any change in her condition. Any change at all.”

“I will.”

***

Ilexa struggled to surface. She felt as though she had been laid on a hard, slab of ice. Chills chased across her skin and hoarfrost crackled in her veins. Around her, she heard voices chanting, but she couldn’t make out the words. She finally managed to pry her eyes apart, enough to create a sliver of space between the upper and lower lids. The light revealed sent searing pain through her head, but she fought to keep her eyes open. A part of her feared that if they closed, she’d never open them again.

The silhouette of a head blocked out the light. “She’s awake.”

“Thank the Deity,” a familiar voice breathed.

The chanting ceased, and the sudden silence made her fear deafness until she heard another voice. “Is she responsive?”

“Ilexa? Can you hear me?”

Relief quickly melted to alarm when she didn’t feel the cool mind-touch of a healer. Could the healer not reach her? Healers always treated healers. Was she so far gone that another healer could no longer touch her? Had her gift failed?

“Don’t let her fade out again.”

“Ilexa! Keep your eyes open. Do you know where you are?”

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That voice sounded familiar. She associated it with her oldest brother, but it wasn’t Talon. It wasn’t any of her brothers.

“Ilexa, do you know where you are?”

Fear began to choke her. Had she lost her gift? What if she couldn’t heal anymore?

Who was she if she wasn’t a healer?

“Ilexa! Stay with me. It’s Thane. You’re on Dunia. Do you remember what happened?”

Dunia. The IMEP. She was the only N’yotan healer on the planet. The only one in this system. Her gift hadn’t failed her. She couldn’t connect with another healer because there was no other healer. Blessed relief swamped her, pulling her back under—

A sharp crack to her cheek dragged her back to the surface. The side of her face burned, and she pried her eyes back open. This time they focused, and she made out the face of Thane.

Something tickled the back of mind. Something important. Something unfinished…

Prophetess. The boy. His arm. How could she have been so selfish? So worried about herself that she forgot about him? Had she finished his healing? Or had she failed him? Had they…

“The boy,” she managed in hoarse whisper.

“Tafari is doing well. He woke up an hour ago. His arm is almost completely healed. Doctors say he’ll fully recover.”

She tried to nod and her lids fluttered closed. Tafari, her mind repeated.

“No. Keep your eyes open,” Thane demanded.

Blasted man. Always ordering her around. She lifted her lids solely to glare at him, but from the relief in his eyes, she didn’t think she’d succeeded in cowing him with her rage.

“I’m going to give her a stimulant,” another voice said.

“Hang in there, Ilexa. You’re doing well.” Thane praised her.

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She tried another glare, and knew she’d failed again when he beamed at her. A soft pressure against her neck sent adrenaline racing through her veins. Ilexa jerked up, conking her head against Thane’s and making her see stars.

“Shit,” he swore.

Outraged, she slapped him. It was a weak attempt at best, but it still made her feel better.

“You slapped me,” he stated, shock evident on his haggard face.

“You slapped me first,” she shot back, ignoring the fact that they were arguing on a sandbox level. “Where’s my patient?”

“You were losing consciousness again,” Thane defended. “And your patient is recovering. He’s conscious and undergoing skin treatments for his arm.”

“The musculature…” Ilexa struggled to remember the treatment she had administered.

“You did everything but completely heal the skin. Our doctors are amazed.”

She struggled to turn on the hospital bed, to swing her legs over the side. More like a gurney than a bed, getting traction on the slick, cold metal proved impossible. An older man with the emotionally divorced expression of a doctor caught her shoulders and held her still. “Mistress Dhakir, I am Doctor Eiverin. I’ve given you a stimulant to keep you conscious and assess your condition. However, you are weaker than you believe and must stay in bed.”

“Mistress Ilexa,” another man said, drawing her attention. She turned her head to see a man around her own age with shaggy, sandy blond hair rolling a mobile medical display to her bedside. “You can check Tafari’s status on this.”

Slapping away the doctor’s hands, Ilexa powered on the display. She let her nimble fingers fly across the screen, calling up current information and comparing it to the earlier data. She breathed a deep sigh. Tafari appeared to be recovering well. She wouldn’t completely relax until she could assess him with her skills, but seeing the medical display helped.

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“Perhaps now you will allow me the courtesy of treating my patient,” the grizzled doctor snapped.

Ilexa had spent too much time around physicians to be intimidated. “Where is Tafari?”

It was Thane who answered, raising his voice above the doctor’s angry mutterings.

“We moved him to a private room when he regained consciousness. We cleared it with Marlus first.”

Ilexa swallowed the unladylike curse that rose. Marlus would throttle her over this. She nodded with effort and let the doctor coax her into a supine position. She felt the indignity traditional medicine brought a patient and wished for the consideration of a healer. To distract herself from the way the doctor treated her like an object rather than a person, she asked, “Have I remained unconscious the past four days or was I in and out?”

“How did you know it was four days?” Thane asked.

“It’s how long you’ve been monitoring Tafari. Ninety-six hours and some change.”

“You haven’t regained consciousness before now,” the shaggy blond said. “We kept Tafari in the bed next to you until a little while ago. Your vitals tracked identically to his. Pulse, respiration, blood pressure. You’ve completely confounded our medical experts.”

The young man gave her a smile and a wink, and she found herself smiling back. She’d worked with offworld doctors before, all of whom had been snidely skeptical of healers. Some came to appreciate their skills, others refused to credit healers with any talent despite witnessing their work. She gave him a sincere, “Thank you.”

“I’m Quatres,” he said. “When you are feeling better, I’d like to ask you some questions about your…talents.”

The slight hesitation amused Ilexa. No doubt the offworlders had no vocabulary for her profession. Of course, here, she was the offworlder.

“I’d be happy to discuss healing with you.” She knew her smile was becoming watery. The rush of artificial energy began to fade, making her muscles tremble with fatigue.

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Thane stepped forward and glowered at Quatres. “Ilexa requires rest.”

If she’d had the energy, she’d have rolled her eyes. Gods forbid something should happen to the Damaia’s sister-in-law.

“Of course,” Quatres replied, unfazed by Thane’s intimidation tactic. “Mistress Ilexa, I’m the medic assigned to your care. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Quatres. Please call me Ilexa.”

The medic patted her hand gently, a professional but compassionate touch. “I’d be honored, Ilexa.”

Her lids began to weigh a ton a piece and she fought the wash of exhaustion. The doctor finished his exam with a grunt. “She’s showing signs of physical fatigue. Otherwise, she’s fine.”

Quatres tapped his fingers on the bed’s display. “The stimulant is almost completely out of her system.”

“She has a high metabolism,” the doctor mused, his tone more annoyed than explanatory.

“Did I hear chanting?” she asked, before realizing she might be admitting to auditory hallucinations. Damn it, she cursed silently. She wanted out of this sterilized and emotionless hell. The room she’d been assigned suddenly seemed like a haven of the gods in comparison to the medical ward.

“Our priests have taken rotating shifts, asking the Deity to return your soul to your physical body.”

“I forgot,” she murmured, eyes drifting shut.

She felt Thane lean over her. “Forgot what?”

“That you only have one god. He must be very lonely,” she heard herself say before floating off into the peaceful darkness of sleep.

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Chapter Four

“She should recover fully. At least using the medical standards I’m accustomed to following,” Doctor Eiverin said grudgingly.

“Do we return her to N’yota now or allow her to stay for the term of her IMEP

contract?” The Malkia steepled her fingers.

Thane, Doctor Eiverin and the Malkia sat around the conference table in the Malkia’s office, discussing Ilexa’s health. Thane knew the Malkia’s main concern centered on any political ramifications Ilexa’s near miss would cause with N’yota. The Malkia had to put the good of the tribe—and by extension the good of Dunia—first. Thane knew it would be best to return her. In fact, he’d wanted to send her home the moment he’d heard she would be coming.

Ilexa tied him up in knots. Had since he’d first met her years before. She’d been a child, but a warning premonition had passed over him in a tidal wave of screaming apprehension. He’d gone years without seeing her, and the next time they’d met, she’d been blossoming into a knockout. Too young for a man to pursue, but too mature for him not to admire.

When he saw her again, she’d become a devastatingly beautiful woman. A radiant beauty with the carefree spirit usually only possessed by the very young. She’d barreled uninvited aboard the Wrath of Aegir to join in the hunt for her lost sister-in-law and somehow managed to join a military expedition without batting an eye. She clearly had savored her first trip offworld. He could close his eyes and see her standing on the promenade of DeKalb station—her silver eyes as wide as moons. Her excitement had been infectious.

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Still, sitting at the conference table, he found he couldn’t voice the words to send her home. Not now. Not after almost losing her. He needed her where he could see her, see that she was well.

“If we send her home, we break the contract and break faith with her. It is an insult to her and her family.”

“And if she stays and dies, we risk permanently damaging our relations with N’yota.” The Malkia began tapping the tips of her fingers together.

“Could we minimize the risks if she stays?” Thane kept his tone neutral. It wouldn’t do to show the Malkia he had a personal stake in the outcome. He had to appear unbiased or she wouldn’t consider his opinion.

“I’ve spoken to several healers on N’yota and have a better understanding of her skills and how she works. Had I known before, we could have saved Tafari’s arm with traditional medicine bolstered by the healer’s skill. The main thing we have to do is make certain she doesn’t undertake such drastic measures again,” the doctor interjected. Somehow, Thane refrained from snorting both at the idea that they could prevent Ilexa from doing anything drastic and at Eiverin’s implication that he understood Ilexa’s gift. Had the doctor not seen the results of Ilexa’s work first hand, he never would have believed it. Even as familiar with N’yota as Thane was, he wouldn’t have believed a healer could accomplish what Ilexa did without seeing it himself. The Malkia’s consort sat silently behind her. Rhys always observed, but seldom participated in such meetings. He reserved his opinion and counsel for the Malkia’s ears alone.

“How can we be certain that Ilexa isn’t putting herself in danger? We have no one who can gauge the risk to her in a given situation.” The Malkia raised a brow at Eiverin.

“I’ve spoken at length with high healer Marlus to gain a better understanding of Ilexa’s talent. On N’yota, healers generally act as support for physicians. Some aid in diagnostics and others in treatment. Ilexa is one of the rare healers gifted in both.”

Thane eyed the doctor with suspicion. Doctor Eiverin lectured with the air of an expert, giving the impression of superiority. Yet, the man had relegated N’yotan healers 36

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to glorified nurse’s aides, when Thane knew they held more exalted positions than the most elite surgeons on their homeworld.

Thane wondered what game the man played. Ilexa had shown up the entire Central Alliance medical establishment by healing Tafari. Doctor Eiverin’s inaction would have truncated the Malkia’s male line by allowing her grandson a ritual suicide. Thane had expected that the man’s ego wouldn’t be able to handle Ilexa’s success, and he would try to boot her offworld because of wounded pride.

“Are you saying you have enough knowledge of Ilexa Dhakir’s gift to limit her participation in situations that would imperil her?”

“Yes.” Eiverin exuded confidence.

Thane fought to suppress his laughter. For all she looked like spun-candy, Ilexa had a core of solid iron. Not that he faulted the doctor. Ilexa even had her five brothers convinced by her innocent and demure appearance.

“The ability to observe her talent in controlled circumstances will not only ensure she’s safe, but will allow us to advance our medical knowledge.”

The doctor’s surprising willingness to accede to Ilexa’s gift suddenly made sense. Thane’s chair crashed to the floor. He stood, enraged, fists clenched. “Ilexa Dhakir is no experiment for you to expand your medical knowledge,” he thundered. The Malkia stared at him with that implacable and indefinable gaze. Doctor Eiverin looked shocked at the outburst and if Thane wasn’t mistaken, Rhys appeared amused. He hastened to explain himself. “My blood brother’s sister is a member of the Hakimu tribe. She is not a lab rat.”

Thane realized his explanation sounded like a threat when Doctor Eiverin flinched and shrank back into his chair.

The Malkia lifted a hand. Thane bristled, but paused in his tirade.

“No one is treating Ilexa Dhakir with anything less than honor.” The Malkia’s statement served both as reassurance and warning.

Thane righted his chair, angry at himself for the outburst. What better way to appear neutral than to come a hair’s breadth from challenging Doctor Eiverin?

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The doctor cleared his throat. “I will afford the healer the respect due a fellow tribe member. I meant that the longer we work with her, the more we can learn from her.”

The clumsy backpedal didn’t placate Thane. He let menace flood his eyes and fixed Doctor Eiverin with a warning stare. The man swallowed audibly. Message received. Thane had no doubt the man knew he’d be watching him. The Malkia remained silent, more in contemplation than observance. Then, she nodded. “We will allow the healer to stay. However, I want her healing monitored. I also believe it is best to steer her clear of any ritual in which severe injury or death is possible.”

“Understood.”

The doctor’s hasty agreement had Thane narrowing his eyes at him before returning his gaze to the Malkia. He inclined his head in respect, acknowledging the instructions.

“Thank you both,” the Malkia said in clear dismissal. The doctor and Thane rose and bowed. Thane turned to take his leave when the Malkia called his name. He paused and turned back.

The Malkia waited until the door closed behind Doctor Eiverin. “My granddaughter will be very disappointed.”

Thane blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“She has long hoped to be your wife. I admit, I had looked forward to the greatgrandchildren you would have given me.”

Thane’s jaw dropped. An unwarrior-like reaction, but he would have been less surprised if the two moons above Dunia collided. “I…I…” he stammered. He actually stammered.

An amused gleam lit the Malkia’s unusual eyes. “Do not concern yourself over choices others would make for you. You must live your own life.”

“Karia is a beautiful woman and a skilled warrior. Joining my life to hers would be a great honor and a wise decision,” Thane told her baldly. He’d determined that two years earlier when he’d resigned his League commission. Yet somehow, he had never gotten around to a formal courtship.

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The Malkia laughed. “Thane, no woman—warrior or not—wants a man to think of her as a ‘wise decision’.”

Thane scowled. “She is a strong woman and a prize for any man.”

“Karia has trained her entire life to be physically strong. But if you ask me, Ilexa is the stronger of the two. There are different types of strength, and Ilexa is strong to her core. Strong enough to travel alone to another world, to face me down and to challenge a cultural tradition to save a life.”

“There’s a fine line between courage and recklessness,” Thane pointed out.

“Regardless, I have no intentions towards Ilexa. She is my blood brother’s sister. I am honor-bound to watch over her.”

“Then why not claim her as your sister through the blood-brother bond?”

Revulsion crawled across his skin, and he couldn’t stop the shudder that shook him.

“I thought not,” the Malkia said. She held up a hand to forestall further protest. “Be wary of Karia. She is a proud woman and will not take your pursuit of Ilexa well. She has become accustomed to getting what she wants. She will be spiteful and vindictive.”

The conversation made Thane feel as though he had stepped off solid ground and had nothing but air beneath him. Still, he rallied enough to defend Karia. He’d known her most of his life and knew she held honor too dear to behave like a malicious shrew. “You underestimate your granddaughter and overestimate me.”

He kept his tone polite out of respect for the Malkia and her station, but he knew he was treading the bounds of propriety with his words. The Malkia raised a brow, and the temperature of her voice plunged. “And perhaps you overestimate Karia and underestimate yourself. Regardless, you should be wary when caught between two strong women.”

He inclined his head. “A wise man is always wary around strong women.”

The Malkia smiled at his attempt at humor. “You will watch over Ilexa and steer her away from situations where she may feel called upon to overextend herself?”

“I will.” He knew an order when he heard one.

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She sighed. “I realize we are probably overreacting, but I’d rather be safe than sorry. After all, now that we are prepared, what’s the worst she can do?”

***

She started a war.

Two weeks after awaking in the medical ward, Ilexa had finally received the permission of the pompous doctor to begin working.

Happy to finally be doing something, she sat in the stiff-backed chair next to her bed and bent to slip on her shoes. The door slammed open without warning, startling her, and a short woman with steel gray hair appeared in the doorway. She pinned Ilexa with a hard look. No warmth showed in her brown eyes. “Ilexa Dhakir? I’m Thalia, your cultural immersion counselor.”

“I’m pleased to meet you,” Ilexa responded automatically. Years of training as the Damaia’s sister-in-law had ingrained polite introductions into her bone marrow—no matter how much she wanted to strangle the woman in front of her.

“I understand you’ve caused quite a stir. Good for you. Maybe that will teach the government not to circumvent IMEP policy. Those bureaucrats didn’t even bother to tell me they’d changed your itinerary. When you weren’t on the transport, I filed the paperwork stating you’d stood us up.” The woman harrumphed. “I didn’t know you were here until after you’d done that healing. At that point, I was attending an IMEP

conference on Voltra. I must say, you’ve turned the government on its head.”

Ilexa blinked at the woman’s verbal velocity. “I wasn’t trying to make a political statement. I was trying to save a life.”

Thalia waved a dismissive hand in Ilexa’s direction as she sat in the only other chair.

“I sent you a welcome packet in advance of your arrival. I assume you’ve read it. I need to assess your level of cultural understanding. Tell me everything you know.”

Ilexa sighed and slipped off the one shoe she’d managed to put on. This woman clearly didn’t stand on ceremony, and Ilexa decided she might as well be comfortable. She crossed her legs while considering where to start. 40

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“The Central Alliance comprises five planets. Dunia is the second largest and the seat of the Hakimu tribe. Rather than governance by municipalities, the Central Alliance governs by tribal affiliation. If a tribe member commits a transgression anywhere on any of the five planets, that person is returned to his or her tribe for judgment. There are a total of seventy-one tribes, each of which has a different governing system.”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “You’ve quoted some encyclopedic facts at me. What have you learned about our culture? Tell me about the Hakimu specifically.”

Ilexa refrained from sniping about Thalia’s failure to do any actual teaching before springing a pop quiz. “The Hakimu cling strongly to traditions that no one has bothered to explain to me. While they don’t exactly shun technology, they keep it out of sight and use it as necessary rather than when convenient. The Hakimu appear to be a maledominated, patriarchal society, but the most revered member of the tribe is a woman entitled Malkia. I don’t fully understand her role within the tribe, but she clearly wields great power.”

Thalia cocked her head and studied Ilexa. “A succinct and accurate summary. You may yet survive here. What do you know of our courtship rituals?”

Ilexa winged an arched brow upwards. “Nothing. I fail to see how they are relevant. IMEP participants are excluded from courtship or sexual expectations of their host world’s culture.”

Thalia scowled. “Usually, you would be correct, but the government not only preassigned you here—the one tribe I absolutely would have prevented you from joining—

they granted you full tribal status. By our traditions and laws, you are as Hakimu as if you’d been tribal born. A strong argument could be made that your status as Hakimu supersedes that of an IMEP participant.”

“I am a daughter of N’yota,” Ilexa said forcefully.

“You may be a daughter of N’yota, but you are a member of the Hakimu tribe.”

“If this is an attempt to scare me into quitting the program, you can save your breath.” By all that was holy, she was not tucking her tail and scurrying home.

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Thalia raised a hand to halt the burgeoning tirade. “I have no desire to see you leave the program, but I want you to understand the cultural expectations and norms in which you live. What’s more, your actions reflect upon the tribe. The Hakimu may be small, less than half a million people, but it is a proud and powerful tribe. You do not want to bring shame upon it.”

“Are you Hakimu?”

“No, I’m Telonia, but we are allies of the Hakimu.”

“Allies?” Ilexa asked, surprised. “I thought the planets were united.”

Thalia sighed as though a small child had asked a very obvious question.

“Representatives from each tribe make up our central government, and we act as one in our dealings with other planets, but within our borders…it is more complex. Tribes have allies and enemies. Many of the alliances and feuds date back to before recorded history. Working with the tribes is similar to navigating a mine field.”

“Nothing I read mentioned this,” Ilexa accused.

“It is not something we share with outsiders. No IMEP participant has ever been given this much information about intertribal relations.”

“I assume you are telling me this, because of my…relationship with the Hakimu tribe.”

Thalia gave her a very put-upon look. “Of course.”

“And the most important intertribal information you choose to instruct me in is courting rituals? Thank the Prophetess you are here to impart your wisdom.” Ilexa usually restrained the sarcastic words that floated through her mind, but the frustration of living in ignorance since her arrival had her on edge.

“You are impertinent. I’ve read your application and seen a vid of your interview. I expected you to be a timid mouse. Perhaps you will prove more than I expected.”

Ilexa’s temper flared. “I’m so pleased to have the opportunity to prove myself in your eyes.”

Thalia looked amused, but ignored Ilexa’s anger. “As for courting rituals, they are the ones that pose the most danger to you.”

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“How?”

“As I said before, many of our traditions predate written history. Some of those traditions involve courting and claiming.”

“Claiming?”

“Bride stealing.”

Ilexa worried her lower lip, regretting her sarcasm. “Bride stealing?”

“You are a member of the royal family of the wealthiest planet in the League. For that reason alone, you should be on guard.”

Ilexa gritted her teeth at the woman’s misunderstanding of her status on N’yota. Her brother had married the Damaia, but it was the Damaia’s line that was “royal”. Ilexa was an in-law. “You mean I should warn my brother to expect a ransom demand?”

“I said ‘bride stealing’ not ‘kidnapping’,” Thalia replied acidly. “With intertribal marriages, the wife becomes a member of her husband’s tribe. Even if the woman rejects the man, she remains a member of his tribe unless her birth tribe steals her back.”

“You realize you are describing a barbaric practice that contravenes League tenets.”

“If the women were forced to accept the marriage, the anti-indenture clause would be violated. However, forcibly changing a person’s tribal affiliation is not a League concern.”

Ilexa inclined her head, forced to concede the point.

“You need to be especially wary around other tribes, even those members invited into Hakimu holdings. Someone may abduct you regardless of whether he finds you attractive. The abduction would give his tribe a close tie to the N’yotan ruling House and increase his standing.”

Regardless of whether he finds you attractive, Ilexa mimicked silently. Could the woman be more insulting if she tried? Ilexa took two deep breaths to help control her fury at the woman’s insult and at the idea that someone would take her simply to gain access to her family. “I assure you, abducting me will only enrage my family, not create a ‘close tie’.”

“The bride stealer won’t understand that.”

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For a moment, Ilexa pictured Lia’s reaction to the news someone abducted her. It might almost be worth the kidnapping to watch Lia rain fury down on the idiot who took her sister-in-law and closest friend. “I assume I am safe from abduction within the tribe.”

“Yes, but the rules of courtship are different.”

“Different? I suppose not being kidnapped could be casually described as

‘different’,” Ilexa muttered.

“Bride stealing is rare, but it happens. Usually a man courts a woman and convinces her to marry him and join his tribe. There are no restrictions on their conduct when courting.”

“And courting within the tribe?”

“The man approaches the woman’s father for permission to begin the process. He then tries to gain her attention by proving his skills as a warrior. If she favors him, they will start spending more time together. Eventually, she might consent to being his wife. However, until they wed, physical contact is strictly limited.”

“No sex,” Ilexa said baldly. Healers didn’t tiptoe around natural bodily functions. Her bluntness earned a glare from Thalia. “That is correct. Any woman who allows it is considered to have loose morals and is all but shunned. The man is considered without honor and no father would allow him to court his daughter. If the woman does not marry him, he will never wed or be a father himself. If the couple does marry, it can take years to overcome the stigma.”

Ilexa sighed. “I am not here for romance. I’m here to learn from your medical techniques and to share healing.”

“Romance has a way of finding us, especially when we hide from it.”

Ilexa glanced at the timepiece on the wall. “I’m expected in the medical ward. It’s my first day of scheduled work, and I’m already late.”

“You’re not expected for healing. The Prylivian tribal head is visiting, and the Malkia promised to introduce you to him. Your healing stunt has made you a minor celebrity, which gives the Hakimu a political coin that costs nothing while gaining something. In this case, strengthening relationships with the Prylivian.”

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“I am here to heal, not be paraded about like a prized animal,” Ilexa snapped, outraged.

“As Hakimu, you are subject to the will of the Malkia. You will begin work tomorrow.”

Thalia rose and gestured for Ilexa to follow. Slipping into her shoes, Ilexa muttered several of her brothers’ favorite curses under her breath.

“I will be traveling on Dunia for a few more days to observe and offer counsel should it be needed by other IMEP participants. I’ll provide a way for you to contact me.”

Ilexa assumed that meant her lessons in local culture had concluded. Aside from a fear of kidnapping, the woman had imparted little of value. Irritated, she followed the useless counselor down the hall.

***

“Perhaps Ilexa can entertain my wife and daughter while we discuss the matters affecting our respective tribes.” The Prylivian tribal leader, Isher, couched his demand in the form of a request. “My wife has looked forward to meeting her.”

“Ilexa is not scheduled in the medical ward until tomorrow. She will be happy to spend time with your family,” the Malkia assured him. Ilexa tensed, irritated at having decisions made for her. “I’d be delighted.”

The Malkia and Isher didn’t even glance back as they left the two women alone. Despite her irritation, seeing Isher leave made Ilexa feel better. For the past ten minutes, he had demanded to know the “secrets” of healing and hadn’t believed it was a gift from the Goddess Havilla to a select few. He’d even implied he’d hire a healer to come teach his doctors the “trick”.

Forcing a smile, she turned back to Isher’s wife. Bali wore her blonde hair in a complex style. Her flawless skin and clear blue eyes made her a true beauty and emphasized the age difference between her grizzled husband and herself. “How old is your daughter?”

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“Nine months,” Bali replied, and to Ilexa’s surprise, shoved the sleeping bundle into her arms.

Ilexa juggled the baby who made no sound of protest. Her senses screamed at her, and she shot Bali a look of warning and suspicion. “This boy is no more than six months old and is very ill.”

“Can you heal him?” Desperation and fear leaked from Bali.

“I can’t make him a nine-month-old girl,” Ilexa replied, ice in her voice, intentionally misunderstanding. She didn’t know what game Bali played, and she didn’t appreciate being forced into it.

“My daughter is home with her nanny. I brought Zavian because you are his last chance. He has Falcha Disease. Can you heal him?”

Her curiosity over Bali’s charade couldn’t hold a candle to her concern for the tiny life she held in her arms. She let her eyes unfocus and studied the still child. His aura still had a thin halo unaffected by the disease. She sensed his small body with a diagnostic

“touch” and confirmed the Falcha. “He’s pretty far gone, but he has a good chance. I’ll need to heal him for at least a week before he’ll stabilize enough to turn over to your doctors for care.”

“Can’t you heal him now? Like you fixed that boy’s arm,” Bali begged, showing none of the relief Ilexa expected.

“No. His system needs to be reset. The disease altered his mitochondria. I have to undo it over time or it will shock his system, most likely killing him.”

“But you have to heal him now. You have to.”

“Perhaps you should explain what is going on and why the subterfuge.”

“Zavian is my cousin’s son. She brought him to me when she learned I would be coming to the Hakimu seat. My husband would never have allowed me to bring him, so I pretended he was our daughter.”

“Why couldn’t you just bring him?” Ilexa assumed it was some cultural taboo. She wanted to throttle Thalia for leaving her twisting in the wind. 46

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“My cousin married the son of the Quixivon leader.” Bali hissed at Ilexa’s blank face. “He’s the grandson and potential successor to the Quixivon chieftain.”

“And he can’t go outside the tribe for treatment?” she guessed. Bali’s expression said she thought Ilexa was an idiot. “The Quixivon and Hakimu are blood enemies.”

“Surely no one would deny treatment of a child?”

“The Quixivon can’t ask. To do so means begging from an enemy and surrendering all honor. Even if they could ask, what’s to stop the Hakimu from killing him once they have their hands on him?”

“Me,” Ilexa replied, but her mind was racing.

“You have to heal him today.”

“It’s not possible.” Ilexa elected not to debate the child’s safety with the Hakimu. Her first concern was saving Zavian. To do that, he had to stay. “We need something to wrap up that you can carry home as your daughter.”

Hope lit Bali’s eyes for the first time. “You’ll help us?” Her eyes dimmed. “But how will you explain his presence?”

“Leave that to me,” Ilexa said, rising. “First we need to get you home undetected. I’ll contact you when he can leave. You’ll have to bring your ‘daughter’ back under some pretense.”

“I can do that.”

Two hours later, the Prylivian delegation left. Bali waved before climbing into the transport, cradling a carefully bundled vase.

Ilexa waved back before hurrying to the medical ward. She needed to find Quatres.

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Chapter Five

“Quixivon warriors are approaching our borders en masse,” the Malkia announced to the war council.

Fifteen warriors jerked upright in their seats, and immediately began talking over one another.

“What?”

“Why?”

“How dare they!”

“Those jackals—”

“Enough.” The Malkia didn’t raise her voice, but the word lashed across the room, leaving silence behind.

Thane leaned forward. “Are they flying a flag?”

“One of war,” Rhys replied grimly. While the man remained silent in meetings where the Malkia handled intra-tribal disputes, he held the highest warrior position and led the war council.

“Have they made any contact at all?” Gerund demanded.

“None.”

“Then according to tradition, they will send an envoy with their demand for our surrender and a declaration of our alleged transgression that led to this act,” Gerund stated.

“Do we have any theories as to what provoked them?” Thane tried to find his mental footing. War between blood enemies hadn’t occurred in centuries. He’d trained for war, seen more than his share when serving as a League soldier. He’d never imagined he’d face it on his homeworld, but here he was. The Hakimu were at war with the Quixivon. 48

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“Direct dealings with the Quixivon have not occurred in decades. We have not held clashing positions in the Intertribal Council for even longer,” the Malkia informed them quietly.

“Which begs the question, what do they expect to accomplish with this action?” a younger warrior asked. “They must want something and are using this as a pretense to either negotiate for it or try to take it from us.”

“Perhaps,” the Malkia said. “Or a Hakimu has given insult and not informed his or her family head. I expect the envoy to arrive within two hours. I am announcing that anyone who may have caused or have knowledge of this situation may come to me without repercussions. If possible, I will keep his or her name private. The more knowledge we have, the stronger our position.”

Murmurs began to swell at the implication of disloyalty from within the tribe. Thane fixed his gaze on the Malkia. She wore the serene expression she always did at council meetings, but there was something uneasy about her. Something he couldn’t name or identify, but it made his gut clench all the same.

If the Malkia was worried, it meant she couldn’t anticipate the Quixivon’s reasoning in attacking the Hakimu. Being unable to anticipate an enemy left them in a weakened state. His mind raced. Defense of the holding suddenly seemed much more difficult than when he drilled for defending against an attack.

The Malkia rose, and out of respect, the men followed suit.

“Warriors, the lives of those in your tribe rest with your skills.”

“Prepare the defenses,” Rhys ordered, and the men filed out of the room, double time.

The Hakimu warriors operated like a well-tuned instrument. Knowing his men would do their jobs allowed Thane to pause for precious seconds. He exchanged a look with Rhys. In that brief glance, the two men shared more than they could with words. In Rhys’s eyes, he saw the man’s worry and resolve. Fury suffused Thane, and he spun away, storming out of the Council room, determined to prevent the Quixivon from harming his tribe.

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Two hours later, he stood to the left and slightly behind the Malkia, while Rhys flanked her from the other side. They watched in silence as the Quixivon delegate made the slow trek to where they stood. He approached alone and on foot according to ancient tradition. Thane watched him with narrowed eyes, hoping for some insight into what brought the current events to pass.

Rhys lowered the binoculars and let out a low whistle. Quietly, so the tribe members standing a few feet behind them wouldn’t hear, he said, “The delegate is Creary.”

“What the hell is going on?” Thane whispered in response, staggered by Rhys’s announcement. What was the heir apparent to the Quixivon chieftain doing acting as delegate?

“Thane!”

He turned to see Ilexa threading her way through tribal elders. Though “threading”

wasn’t quite the right word. The elders parted for her, providing a straight path to him. Despite the gravity of the situation, he felt more annoyance at the elders than at Ilexa. Since the healing, many of the tribe had become fearful, believing her to be a witch. Others viewed her as being blessed by the Deity. Either reaction guaranteed people giving her a wide berth.

She wore the IMEP uniform that never failed to stir his blood, and from the look of it, she was cold. She all but skidded to a halt in front of him.

“This is not a good time,” he told her, stating the obvious. “Return to the medical ward or your chamber.”

“No one will tell me what is going on.”

The sheer selfishness of that statement stunned him, before anger surged. “Believe it or not, princess, this is not about you.” Ilexa’s head jerked back as though he’d slapped her, and he felt a twinge of guilt. He softened his voice, and said, “We have been challenged by another tribe. The situation is serious, and I do not have time to discuss it with you.”

He tried to turn, but Ilexa clamped onto his arm, alarm shining in her eyes. “Which tribe?”

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Thane’s stomach clenched at the distress in her voice, and he had the embarrassing urge to comfort her. His tribe faced a serious threat, and he wanted to step away from his position and comfort her. He silently cursed the Malkia for effectively pulling him out of his denial, and forcing him to deal with the feelings that had roared to life once freed. Angry with himself for his weakness and at her for causing it, he pulled his arm free, turned his back on her and tossed an order over his shoulder. “Return to medical.”

Ilexa began speaking behind him, but he tuned her out. He watched as Creary came over the rise, having made record time.

The man’s irate roar echoed off the cliffs. “Give me back my son.”

In the shocked silence that followed, Ilexa managed to shove herself between Thane and the Malkia. The entire assembly of tribal elders heard her authoritative response.

“No.”

Creary had shouted his demand while cresting the apex of the Hakimu holding. Still several meters away, the man began to run, charging Ilexa. Thane and Rhys recovered from their shock simultaneously and tackled Creary before he could reach her.

“Get off me,” Creary bellowed. “Give me my son.”

Thane and Rhys struggled to hold the man immobile, and by focusing all their attention on the threat, they missed Ilexa’s approach. She knelt down in front of the delegate, and Thane wished for a third arm or a doppelganger—something to knock her back. And then to knock the sense back into her. Assuming she had ever had any sense. What the hell had she done this time?

“Your son will not be healed for another day. I’d prefer two to be safe.”

Creary stopped struggling. The man stared at her in shock. “He’s alive.”

Ilexa’s silver eyes took on hues of cold steel, clearly understanding the man’s implication that the Hakimu had killed a defenseless babe. “Of course he is alive.”

The Malkia approached, but did not lower herself down to the dirt with the rest of them. “Creary, son of Liken, I offer you the hospitality of the Hakimu for the duration of your time with us, while we determine what has happened.”

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“My son is alive?” Creary repeated, fixing eyes so full of hope on Ilexa that Thane found himself willing her to reassure the ancient enemy of his people.

“Your son is alive.” Ilexa’s voice softened, revealing Creary’s plea had eased her anger.

Creary turned those pleading eyes on the Malkia. “I accept your hospitality, but I want to see my son.”

At the Malkia’s nod, Thane and Rhys rose, but stayed within centimeters of their enemy.

“I did not know your son resided within our holding.”

“My son is six months old.” Creary pushed to his feet. “He doesn’t ‘reside’

anywhere but with his tribe.”

“I stand corrected.” The Malkia turned her head to face Ilexa who was dusting dirt off her knees. “Ilexa, you will bring Creary’s son to him in my receiving salon immediately.”

“I will not,” Ilexa replied, and Thane wanted to throttle her himself. The Malkia would not be lenient with her over this.

“I beg your pardon?” The Malkia sounded shocked, but it didn’t show on her face.

“I’m not bringing Zavian anywhere until I have your word, and Creary’s, that he will be allowed to stay to complete his treatment.”

“Treatment?” Creary sneered. “My son has Falcha Disease. He can’t be treated. I’ve consulted the best doctors on our worlds. He will spend what little time he has in this life with his tribe.”

Ilexa stepped forward, into the reach of the irate father, and Thane held his breath, tensing in preparation to take the man down if he so much as shifted his weight towards Ilexa.

“I’m not a doctor. I’m a healer. I have been treating your son. I’ve repaired the mitochondrial damage, but his development will still be delayed unless you allow me to complete his treatment. I promise that he is healing, and you will find no trace of the disease.”

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Creary blinked at Ilexa in surprise. “You are the one who fixed up the boy who lost his arm?”

“He hadn’t lost his arm, but it was severely damaged.”

Creary fixed the Malkia with a determined look. “I want your word that my son and I both receive the hospitality of the Hakimu.”

To Thane’s surprise, it was Ilexa who responded with fury ringing in her voice. “The Hakimu would never harm an innocent child. I assure you Zavian will be treated as a member of the tribe, not simply receive the Hakimu’s hospitality.”

“I want to see my son.”

“Not until you give me your word.”

“I promise, I’ll allow you to complete his treatment.”

“As a sign of good will between our tribes, I too give my word that Ilexa will be allowed to continue to treat your son,” the Malkia stated. Creary nodded. The naked relief on his face had Thane wanting to turn away, to give the man privacy.

“I will retrieve Zavian and meet you in the Malkia’s receiving room,” Ilexa promised and turned towards the holding’s entrance.

“Thane, escort the healer.” Rhys’s voice carried no emotion, but Thane knew the man well enough to sense his fury.

Thane didn’t bother with a response. He caught Ilexa in three strides and forcibly tucked her arm in his. The trembling in her fingers surprised him. She’d seemed so selfconfident, so assured as she took on the Malkia and Creary before the entire tribe. Her shaking caught him off-guard, and he put his free hand over hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.

***

Ilexa said a prayer of gratitude to Cavito, N’yotan god of compassion, when Thane withheld the interrogation she had expected. She followed it with a prayer to Havilla that

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Quatres would be elsewhere, preparing for war. The medic had proven invaluable in helping while she worked to undo the damage caused by the Falcha Disease. The medical ward teemed with activity as they prepared for incoming wounded. The sight made Ilexa’s stomach roll, but she kept her face impassive. She ignored the greetings called out to her, and made a beeline for the storage closet she’d requested. She tugged her arm free from Thane to unlock the door. Blessedly, the baby was sleeping untended. Ilexa scooped him up, blankets and all, and fled the medical ward with Thane hot on her heels.

He caught her in the main hallway, and Ilexa noticed how careful he was not to jostle the baby when he grabbed her arm.

“Slow down,” he said in a low tone. “Running makes you look guilty of wrongdoing. You acquitted yourself well before the Malkia and the Quixivon delegate. Pride and confidence are your best defense right now.”

She nodded in agreement, better to let him think she hurried out of nerves than to protect Quatres.

“When we arrive, hold your head high and carry yourself with self-assurance. If you appear hesitant, it will make you look weak. The Hakimu will forgive almost anything, but weakness.”

Ilexa nodded, adjusting the blanket around the baby as she slowed her stride. “Thank you.”

Thane grunted and peered over her shoulder at the squirming bundle making sounds of protest. “He doesn’t look like Creary.”

An image of the hulking man with beady eyes and a bulbous nose flashed through her mind. “I’m sure he’ll be very grateful for that when he grows up.”

“I would be.”

Ilexa glanced up at him in surprise. “Are you actually being amusing?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

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It would be easier to believe he could spin a planet in the opposite direction, but prudence kept her from saying it aloud. A sudden thought drew her up short. “I’m being sent home. That’s why you are in such a good mood.”

His features tightened, and he glanced around the corridor. A few others milled about, casting furtive looks towards her and Thane, telling her as clearly as words that the rumors were already flying about Creary’s son. Thane grabbed her arm and hauled her through the nearest doorway. Despite his rough handling, she again noticed his care not to jostle the baby.

The room could best be described as utilitarian. Several long tables sat in rows. The walls were bare, and the room had no windows and no people. Thane left the door open, so Ilexa didn’t worry that he’d dragged her in there to strangle her. He crossed his arms over his chest, which emphasized his broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms. The sight distracted her enough that her mind had to race to catch up to Thane’s words.

“The Malkia won’t force you to leave, but you will be held accountable for your actions. You might want to consider returning to N’yota.”

Thane’s tone carried a warning. And a challenge. She ignored both. “I’m not leaving.”

She’d be damned before she let them run her off like a scared child. Ilexa glared at Thane, who didn’t respond. An electric moment passed between them, charged with something she didn’t understand. It was as though her future took a deep breath and stepped sideways onto a different path. Whatever it was, Thane felt it too. She saw something dark and determined move behind his eyes. Something she couldn’t name. It wasn’t violent, but it was dangerous.

He inclined his head, sharply. “So be it,” he declared with a growl. Before she could ask what he meant, he hauled her out of the room as unceremoniously as he’d hauled her into it. Zavian’s fussing grew louder, and she comforted him, while trying to process what had just happened. It had been momentous, leaving her uneasy and unsettled.

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Arriving at the Malkia’s receiving room, Thane released her arm, and she straightened her spine. Creary paced— prowled—by the door and ripped the baby from Ilexa’s arms the second she crossed the threshold. Thane growled when Ilexa stumbled from the force Creary used. She quickly put herself between the two men as a human buffer.

Ilexa watched Creary struggle against tears as he held the squirming child in his arms. Falcha Disease caused all sorts of terrible things to happen to an infant’s body, but the most obvious early symptom was the sluggishness of the child. Poor muscle and motor skill development left a diseased victim listless, barely able to move or respond to stimuli. They never laughed or cried, and getting food into them took extreme effort and patience. She could only imagine what Creary felt, seeing his son’s face screwed up in anger and hearing him express his feelings at the top of his little lungs.

“How is this possible?” He lifted amazed eyes to Ilexa. Uncomfortable with the awe and fear her healing inspired, she had to fight the nervous urge to shift her weight from foot to foot. “I’m a trained N’yotan healer. This type of healing is common on my world. I connected with your son and…untangled the damage done by the disease.”

“How did Creary’s son come to your care?” The Malkia stepped closer to peer down at the baby.

Ilexa hesitated as all eyes fixed on her. “I am not certain I can divulge that. As a healer, I am obligated to protect my patients. That includes protecting the manner in which they come under my care.”

That wasn’t exactly true, but there was an ethical obligation to treat any patient, and N’yotan law protected all conduits for bringing a patient to a healer. The Malkia’s expression didn’t change, but Ilexa could feel her displeasure.

“No member of the Hakimu would defy me on this. The only other tribe Ilexa has had contact with is Prylivian. Isher and his entourage visited last week.”

“Bali,” Creary snarled. “She brought you my son.”

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While she didn’t understand the complicated tribal system and politics that governed the Central Alliance, Ilexa knew she had to diffuse Creary’s anger…or direct it elsewhere. Uttering a silent prayer begging forgiveness from the unknown woman, Ilexa came clean. “Bali delivered your son, but at the request of your wife.”

Creary’s head shot up. “Rhyna.”

“I treated the baby at the request of his mother.” Ilexa verbally underscored her point.

“And the Hakimu refused to treat him,” Creary guessed. Ilexa didn’t need to use her gift to see his blood pressure rising.

“Bali brought me Zavian. I chose to treat him without notifying the Malkia. I am not from the Central Alliance, and given the subterfuge undertaken by your wife and Bali, I decided to err on the side of caution and treat him without telling anyone.” Except Quatres. She prayed Havilla wouldn’t punish her lie by letting her healing gift suffer.

“And you thought I wouldn’t notice my son was missing?” Creary’s shout should have brought down the mountain.

“My only concern was healing your son.” Ilexa kept her voice gentle, but Zavian let out another irate, piercing scream. “Your son is picking up on your rage and it is upsetting him more. That’s not good for his healing.”

Creary turned his attention back to his boy. Some of Ilexa’s tension melted watching the burly man shift Zavian to his shoulder and begin the jiggle-walk all parents used to comfort an unhappy baby.

“It’s getting close to his next bottle. Would you like to give it to him?” Ilexa offered. Creary’s eyes misted. “He can take a bottle?”

The wild mood swings the Quixivon exhibited made Ilexa’s healer instincts prickle. Of course, it didn’t take a healer to see something wrong with the man. She offered him a reassuring smile. “He can. Let me get one for you.”

The Malkia moved forward and placed a hand on Ilexa’s shoulder. “I’ll send someone for one. A regular bottle or does he take a special formula?”

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“A regular bottle for now. He’ll take a special formula for his next feeding.” The information was more than the Malkia needed, but Ilexa gave it for Creary’s edification. She wanted to drive home the point Zavian still wasn’t well. The Malkia motioned one of the guards to leave, and Ilexa swallowed a smile. Despite the seriousness of the situation, the look on the warrior’s face when sent to fetch a baby bottle bordered on hilarious.

Creary continued to pace and began murmuring to his son. The Malkia tightened her grip on Ilexa’s shoulder and took advantage of Creary’s distraction to ask under her breath, “Is something wrong with him? Is he dangerous?”

Ilexa reminded herself now was not the time to explain the gift of healing didn’t come with clairvoyant powers. Still, she’d noticed the man’s erratic behavior and wondered herself. She stepped away from the Malkia, breaking the contact that could interfere with her gift. She let her eyes unfocus as Creary paced with his son. His body showed streaming lines of fatigue and stress to her healer’s sight, as she would have expected, but she saw no imbalance in his system, no disease. Remembering how Lia’s fever slipped past her gift, Ilexa took a deep breath and opened her mind wider. Poison, drugs—unnatural body invaders—weren’t traditionally treated by healers. Diagnosing them was hit or miss, and put a severe strain on her system. Of course, she couldn’t send Creary for a tox screen, so she tapped her gift. Her mind screamed as it stretched beyond its normal range, but she held it open long enough to see a black ribbon threading his circulatory system. Ilexa couldn’t specifically identify the chemical, but it didn’t seem to have the same energy as a poison. It moved like an herbal treatment rather than a pharmaceutical. She closed her mind and pulled away from her gift. Choosing her words carefully, she turned to whisper, “There is something in his system that may be affecting his behavior.”

The Malkia nodded without surprise as though Ilexa had confirmed a suspicion. She moved towards another guard stationed by the door and began issuing orders too low for Ilexa to overhear.

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Zavian began to wail with renewed fury, drawing Ilexa’s attention. Was Creary a danger to the boy? She should have taken the baby out under the guise of feeding him rather than suggesting Creary do it.

The Malkia approached the pacing father, and Ilexa saw the remaining warriors tense. “Creary, I have ordered palava tea and extend an invitation to share the ritual with me.”

Creary’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“As an apology. Had I known your son had been brought to our care, I would have contacted you and avoided this entire mess.”

“As Malkia you should have known.”

“I should have,” the Malkia agreed.

Ilexa opened her mouth to protest, but Thane caught her eye. He gave a barely perceptible headshake, and she swallowed the protest. Thane may annoy her, but she knew she could trust him.

“I will share the ritual with you,” Creary finally agreed. The door to the receiving room opened, and Quatres appeared with a bottle in hand. Ilexa managed not to run across the room, but she did move quickly to his side. She took the bottle and murmured, “I’ve kept your name out of this. Get out of here.” Turning back towards Creary, she said loudly, “Thank you, Quatres.”

Alarm lit Creary’s eyes. “I’ve never given him bottle before.”

The Malkia didn’t blink. “Why don’t you have a seat? Now just settle him like so…”

Ilexa enjoyed a flash of amusement at the way the Malkia easily maneuvered Creary into a chair. Crossing the room, Ilexa shook the bottle out of habit. Reaching the trio, she popped the cap off and waited until Creary and Zavian seemed ready, before handing the bottle to Creary.

The silence following the baby’s acceptance of the bottle seemed almost deafening after his ear-piercing screams. His father’s eyes widened to the size of serving platters as he watched his son greedily eating. The expression looked amusing on the man’s ugly face, but no one laughed. Instead, they watched in silent respect.

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A knock on the door cracked loudly in the silence, startling Ilexa. The closest guard opened it, and a young woman wheeled in a silver tea service before bowing and backing out of the room as quickly as possible. Not quick enough that Ilexa missed her furtive glance around the room. No doubt the girl intended to reign supreme in the kitchen, trading the details she noted to the gossips.

“The tea has arrived,” the Malkia announced, unnecessarily. “Perhaps the healer could finish giving your heir his meal while we have tea before it gets cold.”

Ilexa didn’t wait for Creary’s agreement. She swooped in and lifted the child, bottle and all, into her arms. Creary blinked when he found himself holding air, but made no protest.

Ilexa chose a chair across from him. It put her and the baby out of his reach and kept him within eyesight. A warrior moved to stand behind her. Ilexa didn’t have to look up to know it was Thane.

The Malkia unloaded the tea service onto a low table. Ilexa gaped when the elegant woman drank directly from the teapot and then the creamer. Thane dropped a hand on her shoulder, making her worry she had made some shocked noise. His breath brushed her ear when he whispered, “She proves the drink isn’t poisoned as a gesture of goodwill.”

Ilexa nodded her thanks. That made a certain amount of sense. Creary chose a sugar cube from the dish and passed it to the Malkia, who ate it straight. Seeming satisfied that the Malkia hadn’t collapsed in a foaming seizure, Creary lifted the teapot and the Malkia cupped her hands around his, allowing them both to pour the tea into two cups. They lowered the pot and took their respective cups. Ilexa had a moment to notice how fragile the cup looked, dwarfed by Creary’s giant hands, before they lifted them to take a drink in unison.

The smell from the tea drifted towards her, stirred on the air by the constant passing of the pot and cups. The smell tickled her nose with scents of moss and decaying leaves. Ilexa frowned, worrying about possible interactions with whatever else Creary had ingested.

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Shifting the baby, she glanced over her shoulder at Thane. He bent down, making it easier for her to ask, “What’s in that tea?”

“It’s a rare herb used for ceremonial purposes.”

“What does it do to the body?”

Understanding lit Thane’s eyes. “It neutralizes and purges other herbals from the blood stream, but it has no effect on mental acuity or motor skills.”

“What did Creary take?”

“I don’t know what rituals the Quixivon follow, but we have several that involve ingesting plants to open your mind to the Deity. I assume Creary took something in a similar rite.”

“Why would he do that? Why would you?”

Thane shrugged. “We have followed some rituals since before the written word. I’m sure the Quixivon honor similar ones for the same reason we do. To honor our ancestors.”

“That’s just stupid.”

“That’s the way of the tribes.”

Ilexa turned her attention back to the ritual, and watched as they repeated it until the pot was empty. As the two participants lifted their last cup, Ilexa sat the empty bottle on the floor and shifted Zavian to her shoulder to burp. Creary and the Malkia slammed their cups down. The sound startled the baby, but Ilexa bounced him on her shoulder before he could work up any outrage.

“The Hakimu welcome Creary of the Quixivon as friend,” the Malkia announced.

“Heyla,” the warriors in the room thundered in response. Ilexa wondered what significance a Quixivon “friend” held. In the pregnant pause that followed, the baby belched loud enough to shake the furniture, sparking smiles throughout the room.

Creary rose, his movements smoother than before. Ilexa couldn’t resist. She continued to pat the baby, careful to only touch his clothing, and looked at Creary with

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her healer’s sight. The ribbons of black had faded to gray and dissipated slowly before her eyes. Ilexa made a mental note to investigate palava tea. Creary shook his head as though to clear it. “I thank you for the honor,” he announced. “Now, I must return to my tribesmen to tell them to stand down and to explain my son’s presence with the Hakimu. I may return for him tomorrow?”

He directed the last at Ilexa, who immediately shook her head. “The day after.”

“The day after,” he agreed, eyes fixed on his son’s back. Ilexa stood and extended the child, so Creary could hold him before leaving. He cradled the baby against him, rubbing his cheek against Zavian’s fuzzy head.

“I will take good care of him,” Ilexa promised.

Creary met her eyes. “I know. You’ve done more for him than I believed possible and ended a blood feud.”

She didn’t point out she’d only intended to heal her patient. “Thank you.”

“Allow us to provide you transport to your tribe,” the Malkia offered.

“I would appreciate that.”

The air pressure in the room seemed to change in the brief pause following his words. Again, Ilexa felt something significant had passed. She wondered what that might be.

Rhys stepped forward. “I’ll escort you if that is acceptable.”

“Of course.”

To Ilexa’s surprise, Creary bowed to the Malkia before handing Zavian back and leaving with Rhys.

Satiated, Zavian yawned and snuggled under her chin. Copious amounts of cold drool trickled down her neck.

The Malkia faced her with accusation in her silvery-green gaze. Ilexa squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and met the woman’s gaze without flinching.

“I realize you are not from Dunia, but assumed that didn’t mean you lacked common sense.” The Malkia’s voice could have caused frostbite. 62

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“A commitment to treating all who seek my healing gift does not mean I lack common sense—”

“Then, perhaps it is intelligence you lack.”

“—or intelligence.”

“Your disregard for tribal loyalties started a war.” The Malkia wasn’t shouting, but she was close. “Many Hakimu would have died if Creary hadn’t seen reason.”

“I am sorry events unfolded as they did. I only intended to heal the child, not start a war.” Ilexa hoped the Malkia heard her sincerity. The entire situation had her stomach beginning to roll. She might cry when angry or frustrated, but in a crisis, she could hold her own and then some. However, with the adrenaline fading, the stress was catching up with her.

“I want your word that you will never take a patient from outside the Hakimu without my permission.”

“I can’t give you that promise. I swore an oath as a healer, and I cannot make a vow that could conflict with that oath.” Ilexa managed to keep her voice steady, despite her increasing upset.

The Malkia studied her silently for a long moment, and Ilexa thought she saw a glimmer of respect in the woman’s green eyes.

“We will discuss this further. For now, I must see to my people. Thane, escort the healer to her quarters.” The Malkia turned and swept from the room with a purposeful stride. The remaining warriors followed in her wake.

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Chapter Six

“I told you to show courage, not recklessness,” Thane growled at her once they were alone. He’d wanted to clap his hand over the rash woman’s mouth when she’d dare stand against the Malkia.

He expected her give him some mouthy response. Instead, Ilexa sank back down into the chair. She rocked the baby gently, but it didn’t hide the fine tremors shaking her body.

He crouched beside the chair and gruffly asked, “Are you all right?”

“Fine. I’d like to take Zavian to my quarters with me. He still needs his treatment, even if I’m under house arrest.”

“You aren’t under house arrest. The Malkia most likely just wants you somewhere you can’t do anymore damage.” She winced, and Thane had to stop himself from apologizing for his harsh tone. He was always harsh, dammit. It came with being a warrior. And since when was Ilexa so bloody sensitive? Feeling awkward, he asked,

“Where have you been treating the baby?”

“In a closet in the medical ward.”

“You kept a baby locked up in a closet?” He hadn’t meant to shout. Really, he hadn’t.

Ilexa narrowed her eyes. She shifted the baby and pulled a small box from her waist.

“Only yesterday did he begin doing more than sleeping and eating. This monitor connects him to me. I know if he so much as turns over in his sleep. I did not keep a baby locked up in a closet. I kept him safe.”

He shoved a hand into his hair, dislodging the tie he’d used to hold it back. Sometimes he missed the simplicity of the League’s harsh military cut. “Why didn’t you just tell the Malkia about him?”

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She hesitated a moment. “I wouldn’t have risked the baby’s life by telling her.”

“Do you really think the Hakimu so brutal as to deny an infant medical care?” He was beyond angry; he was deeply insulted.

“I couldn’t risk it,” she whispered, tucking the monitor back into her clothing. He met her eyes and mentally cursed himself for not having noticed the bruising beneath them. The toll of secretly caring for the enemy’s child showed on her face. Her wan complexion gave her a more fragile air than normal. It was enough to temper his emotional outrage, but a hidden hurt had him asking, “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

Ilexa snorted an inelegant laugh. “You would have told the Malkia before I finished the explanation.”

“Not if you had asked me for my silence. I would have given you my word on the matter.”

She watched him with those huge silver eyes, and he wondered if she heard what he wasn’t saying. The things—the promises—he implied.

The baby began to squirm. Her eyes fell to the child in her arms, and he let the moment pass. It was not time to address the connection between them. He watched her shush the infant, and the image of her holding his child appeared so clearly in his mind’s eye, he lost his balance. Desire assailed him, not for her body, but for her permanent presence in his life. For a family with her.

Talon was going to kill him.

“Do you need to stop by the medical ward for anything?” He watched her rise gracefully, despite the child in her arms.

“No.” She started towards the door, then hesitated. Looking back over her shoulder, she asked, “What does Malkia mean?”

His thoughts arrested and it took a moment for him to switch gears. Whatever she had been thinking, it wasn’t along the same lines as his thoughts. “Malkia is a title. It is given to our tribal guide at her birth.”

“It’s a hereditary position?”

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Thane opened the door for her, before following her into the hallway. “No, though the honor has been in the Malkia’s family for several generations.”

“Then how do you give it to the next Malkia at her birth? And why do you pick a guide so young?”

“We don’t ‘pick’ a Malkia. The Malkia is chosen by the Deity. She stands in his presence before being sent to guide us. A little girl is born with the silver-green eyes of the Deity himself as a mark of her position.”

Ilexa cocked her head, considering. “The Malkia is always female?”

“Yes.”

“When does the next Malkia take over guiding the tribe?”

“When the existing Malkia dies or steps down.”

“You never have more than one Malkia-in-waiting?”

He shook his head in light amusement. “Before becoming the Malkia, the girl is called the Malkine. And no, we never have extra Malkine. The Deity is responsible for the Malkine’s succession.”

“How old is the current Malkine?”

Thane frowned. “The Malkine has not been born.”

They walked in silence a few steps, and Thane brooded. The tribe had never gone so long between the ascension of a Malkia and the birth of a Malkine. Many were becoming nervous, and the tribe’s birth rate had risen with the attempt to produce her.

“So what is the Malkia’s name?”

“She doesn’t have one.”

Ilexa stopped. “What do you mean she doesn’t have one? Everyone has a name.”

“Not the Malkia. She is only known as either the Malkia or the Malkine.”

“That’s awful!”

“That is the way of things.” Thane didn’t bother to elaborate.

“So, what will she do to me?”

“Do to you?”

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Ilexa started moving again. “I assume I will be chastised for hiding Zavian. I don’t pretend to understand your culture, but I do know the Malkia is not going to let this go unpunished.”

“She is neither spiteful nor malicious, if that is your fear. Likely, she will restrict your access to other tribes and keep a close eye on you.”

They reached Ilexa’s chamber, and he opened the door for her. She crossed the room, her shoes making no sound on the thick carpet, and laid the baby on the bed. Thane closed the door and moved closer for a better look.

The baby’s head flopped to the side, and his entire body gave a hard twitch. He let out a breathy sigh and settled into a boneless sleep. Thane turned to Ilexa, and saw her neck gleaming in the light. It took a moment for him to realize it was wet. He followed the moist path down to the top of her IMEP jumpsuit, which Zavian had so drenched it appeared purple rather than blue.

He eyed the comparably dry infant lying on the bed. As a career military man and warrior, Thane had experienced little interaction with children through his life. He doubted he’d ever actually been in a room with an infant, at least not since he’d been one himself. Were they supposed to leak that much? The risk of dehydration ran high during campaigns, and Thane had seen more than one soldier succumb to it. Ilexa didn’t appear alarmed. She crossed to the dresser, retrieved a handkerchief and started swiping at the fluid. Watching her stretch her neck back and use long strokes of the handkerchief made his palms itch to touch that soft expanse of skin…covered in baby drool.

That doused his ardor.

He turned a wary eye back to the desiccated infant. “Does he need an IV?”

Ilexa stopped mid-swipe and rushed to Zavian’s side. “What? Why?”

“For dehydration.”

“He’s not dehydrated.”

“He has lost a great deal of fluid,” Thane pointed out reasonably. Ilexa slid a finger into Zavian’s diaper. “He’s dry. What are you talking about?”

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He shoved a finger at her chest, stopping a few millimeters away from the wet material. No reason to actually touch it. “The amount of saliva coating your skin and soaking your clothing is substantially more than he could sweat out. The sheer volume indicates he needs replenishing. This is part of his disease, isn’t it?”

A ghost of a smile touched Ilexa’s lips. “He’s not dehydrated and it’s not part of his disease. He’s teething.”

“Teething,” he repeated stupidly.

“A baby’s drool increases when he starts teething. It’s normal. He’s fine.”

“Oh.” He peered into the baby’s open mouth, but couldn’t make out any teeth. Ilexa sat on the bed. “How long do you suppose the Malkia will be? I’d like to start another treatment. I only have two days left.”

“I’m not certain.” Thane didn’t point out that he had no experience on which to base an estimate. Mentioning that no one had started a war with the Hakimu in over two centuries wouldn’t endear him to her.

Ilexa let out a sigh, and worried her lower lip. “I’m going to begin another treatment. If the Malkia returns, would you tell her that it is best for Zavian not to disturb me until I’m done?”

“Yes.” He didn’t like that she didn’t look at him when she asked. He wanted her to look at him when she nibbled her lip, not keep her attention focused on the sleeping child. Her eyes unfocused and her breathing slowed. He could almost physically feel her withdrawing from the world around them, and he didn’t like the sensation that she was no longer with him.

Unsure what to do with himself, he sat on the chair by the bed and studied Ilexa. Time slowed, and he took advantage of her healing state to stare at her in a way he never would if she were conscious. He’d traveled the galaxy and seen beautiful women of all races and species, but none of them held a candle to the healer before him. Like all men who met her, Thane lusted after her physically, but he also admired her. He admired her fire and her commitment. Her zest for life had always captivated him. Something had muted that zeal, but it seemed to be returning.

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Thane wondered how she would take his pursuit. He considered her family’s reaction. As a member of the Damaia’s family, Ilexa likely expected to marry into any one of thousands of noble houses with the League. Outside a Malkia, his tribe didn’t recognize an aristocracy. He hoped that wouldn’t pose a problem for her family, as he had no intention of allowing her to escape him.

Time passed. When her eyelids fluttered, he watched her awareness return. She shook her head, and he realized she had become even paler than before. Her features seemed more angular, gaunter. Could she have lost weight while he sat there watching her? Damn it, he should have forced her to take the baby to the medical ward so someone could monitor her health while she worked.

She stretched and offered him a feeble smile. “He’s responding well.”

“You look terrible.”

“Why thank you, Thane. You know how to make a girl all atwitter.”

Tact had never been his forte. “Do you need a doctor?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

Tired? She looked like she should sleep for at least a week. He’d never before considered a coma a positive condition. “I don’t want you working on him again unless you are being monitored by Doctor Eiverin.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Before he could insist, a loud knock sounded on the door. He rose to admit the Malkia and Rhys.

Ilexa scrambled from the bed and placed a finger to her lips. “Zavian is sleeping.”

“A member of our tribe perished in preparation for battle,” the Malkia whispered without preamble.

Ilexa staggered and Thane grabbed her shoulders to steady her. He glared at the Malkia for springing the news in such a harsh manner. He should have saved his energy. The Malkia didn’t take her eyes off Ilexa.

“I am so sorry.” Ilexa’s misery hung like a tangible thing in the air.

“You will go with us to tell his wife.”

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Ilexa nodded and gathered herself together. “I need to take Zavian to the medical ward first.”

“Rhys will take him,” the Malkia announced.

Rhys stepped forward, and Ilexa lifted Zavian from the bed into his arms. Thane watched amazed as the child flopped about, but didn’t awaken. He wished he could sleep like that.

The Malkia strode from the room with purpose, leaving Thane and Ilexa to hurry after her. The trio walked in silence a few yards, before Thane asked, “Who did we lose?”

“Borys.”

Ilexa’s shoulders hunched in misery.

“I can almost understand your hiding the child.” The Malkia’s tone was conversational. “But what I cannot fathom is why you remained silent when Quixivon warriors began amassing.”

“I didn’t know they were.” Ilexa’s voice barely qualified as a whisper. Thane’s mind flashed to Ilexa suddenly appearing on the ridge where they awaited Creary. She’d appeared frantic and demanded information on the approaching tribe. The Malkia took exception to Ilexa’s denial. “The emergency tone played through the keep, alerting all Hakimu to contact their family head—”

The Malkia cut herself off and glanced back at Thane. They’d both just realized the disservice they had done Ilexa.

“I don’t recall a tone. What did it sound like?”

“It wouldn’t have played in the medical ward. Family heads would be expected to contact anyone working there,” Thane told her.

“And we neglected to consider that you had no family head.”

Thane cringed internally at the insult dealt Ilexa. No one lived without family—the rare occasion someone found himself or herself alone, another family adopted him or her. The worst punishments the tribe could give a criminal was shunning or banishment. Even death was preferable to having all familial ties severed. 70

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Ilexa nodded dismissively. “What does the tone sound like? If I’m not in medical, I don’t want to miss it.”

“Do not concern yourself with the alarm. Going forward, I will personally contact you when I send notices to family heads.” The Malkia sounded brisk and businesslike, but Thane knew she was embarrassed by her failure to watch over a new tribe member.

“Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

Ilexa sounded subdued, but not insulted. Of course, she didn’t fully understand their culture. Perhaps bringing her immediately into the tribe hadn’t been a wise decision. It galled him to admit the IMEP delegates might have had a legitimate complaint. He doubted Ilexa grasped the honor the Malkia bestowed upon her, effectively raising her to an honorary position of tribal elder. If the hunch of her shoulders was any indication, she didn’t seem to realize the entire situation had changed. The Malkia’s failure to properly adopt Ilexa into the tribe negated Ilexa’s responsibility for Borys’s death. The responsibility belonged to the Malkia…and himself. He should have made certain that Ilexa integrated seamlessly into the tribe. Instead, he’d been so focused on sending her home, then on keeping her for himself, that he’d failed to actually watch over her.

He’d broken his word, something he’d never done before. Talon had relied on his vow that he would watch over Ilexa. Guilt swamped him, and the foreign need to apologize welled up. He swallowed it and clenched his fist to stop himself from reaching for her.

“Did he have children?”

The soft question hit Thane in the gut like a sucker punch. If she believed she’d left children fatherless, he knew she’d never recover.

“No.” The Malkia’s reply sent a flood of relief through Thane. They passed through several hallways before reaching an area dominated by young married clan members. The Malkia paused at a door, and Thane moved to offer Ilexa his support.

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As he stepped to her side, Ilexa changed before his eyes. It was as though someone flipped a switch. In a blink, she’d gone from a drawn, miserable waif to a confident, if somber, woman. She stood resolved before the door and a surge of pride went through him at the backbone she displayed.

The door swung open on the first knock to reveal a moderately pretty woman in a drab beige dress. She had her brown hair swept up in a severe style. She wore no makeup or jewelry. If he’d passed her in a hall or on a street, he’d never have seen her. The woman gaped at the Malkia standing at her door and immediately panicked. She began smoothing imaginary wrinkles on her skirt with one hand while patting her already neat coiffure with the other.

“Malkia, I’m honored by your visit. Would you like to come in? I’ve just chilled fresh figila juice.” The woman stepped aside and opened the door wide. Thane allowed the women to precede him into the small home. He swept the main living area with an appraising eye. Though it was small, he’d never seen a more immaculate room.

“Drea, may we sit?” the Malkia asked.

“Of course.” The young wife plastered a nervous smile on her face. “Would you care for a bite? Dinner isn’t ready, but I have a lovely afternoon cake.”

The Malkia sat on the loveseat, pulling the young woman down beside her. Using the gentlest voice Thane had ever heard issued from her throat, the Malkia said, “Drea, I’m sorry. There is no easy way to say this. Borys is dead. He fell from the east parapet. He didn’t suffer.”

“What?” the young woman breathed.

“He died defending his tribe,” the Malkia continued. She clasped the widow’s hands in her own. “We will remember and honor his memory.”

“He’s dead?”

“I’m truly sorry.”

Drea jerked her hands from the Malkia’s grip and grabbed the older woman’s forearms. Thane tensed, ready to intervene.

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“He’s dead? Really dead? You saw the body?” Her voice shot up several octaves on the last question.

“I’ve seen the body. There is no question. Borys is dead.” The Malkia spoke with a quiet firmness that brooked no argument.

Drea dropped her hold on the Malkia and fell back against the cushions. Thane was shocked to hear her heartfelt, “Thank the Deity.”

***

Ilexa ignored her stunned companions as years of training kicked in. She knelt beside the young widow, took her hand and pushed her sleeve up past her elbow. Mottled bruises covered her forearm in various stages of healing. One in the obvious shape of a man’s hand was just beginning to purple.

It took Drea a moment to realize she’d been exposed. When it registered, she tried to extract herself from Ilexa’s grip, while pushing her sleeve back down. Ilexa held tight, not allowing the woman to cover the obvious signs of abuse.

“How long?” Ilexa kept her gaze steady, not dropping her eyes from Drea’s. The widow began to tremble. “Three years.”

“He can’t hurt you anymore.” Ilexa kept her voice soft.

“Why didn’t you come to me? Report this to your family head?” The Malkia’s outrage sounded like an accusation, and Drea flinched. Ilexa caught the Malkia’s eye and shook her head. The divinely chosen leader of the Hakimu glared at her, but fell silent. Drea still tugged at Ilexa’s grip, so she allowed the woman to pull free. Rising, Ilexa said, “Let’s go to the medical ward.”

Drea shook her head with vigorous denial. “No. I’m fine. I don’t need medical treatment.”

She ignored the protest and grabbed the recalcitrant woman’s hand, hauling her to her feet. “You need to have those bruises tended and be checked out.”

Drea shook her head. “I never see a doctor.”

I’ll bet you don’t. Ilexa struggled to contain her fury.

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“I’ll not force you to medical right now if you consent to the healer’s examining you. If she says it can wait, I’ll let you make an appointment at your convenience in the next few days. But if the healer says you go, you go,” the Malkia proclaimed as she stood.

“Thank you, Malkia. I’ll abide by the healer’s decision.”

Either way, the young woman would see a doctor. Ilexa admired the Malkia’s handling of the situation. She gave the abused widow the illusion of control without risking her health. Still, Ilexa wished the Malkia had found another way to do it. Exhaustion pulled at her, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and sleep for a week. Instead, she called her healing sight and examined Drea. The extensive damage brought tears to her unfocused gaze. Every inch of skin hidden by clothing showed trauma. Bruises on top of bruises, swollen muscles and torn ligaments. The skeletal system showed numerous breaks and fractures that hadn’t received treatment, leaving them misaligned. Even her internal organs had scar damage. The Dunia god had protected this woman. No other explanation existed for why she still lived. The internal bleeding she had suffered should have killed her many times over. Ilexa pulled herself back to consciousness. She closed a gentle hand on the widow’s upper arm, prepared to catch her. “You need to go to medical.”

“Why?” It should have been a demand, but Drea’s voice came out as a plea. “I’m fine.”

“I believe the baby would benefit from a full exam.”

Drea stumbled in shock and would have fallen if not for Ilexa’s steady hold. “I’m pregnant?”

“You are. Your child appears healthy, but with the damage to your system, I believe a full workup would be best.”

“I’m pregnant,” Drea whispered, tears flowing unchecked. Ilexa’s heart plummeted to splash in her stomach. Did Drea blame the child for its father’s sins? Didn’t she understand the baby was innocent?

Drea began to laugh. Her hands dropped to cover her abdomen in a protective gesture. “I’m pregnant,” she shouted, joy blooming across her face beneath the tears that 74

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streamed rivers. “He beat the other two babies from my womb. They were part of me and too weak to deserve to live as his heirs.”

Thane growled in rage, and Ilexa found herself wishing the bastard hadn’t died. She wanted to hand him over Thane. No doubt the enraged warrior behind her would have made Borys suffer the agonies of all the hells before dispatching him to them permanently.

“I’m pregnant,” Drea repeated. “And he can’t hurt my baby.”

Ilexa heard the lingering question in Drea’s statement. Apparently the Malkia heard it, too. She took Drea’s hand. “No, he can’t. No one can. I’m putting you and this child under my care.”

“Malkia, that is too generous,” Drea breathed, her eyes wide. Ilexa sensed the magnitude of the Malkia’s declaration, but didn’t understand it. More cultural ignorance on her part. Hopefully, this time it wouldn’t result in a war.

“Let’s get you to medical.” The Malkia began urging a stunned Drea towards the door.

Ilexa rubbed her aching temples for a moment. Forcing her legs to move, she followed. As long as they were heading to medical, she should look in on Zavian. Enough time hadn’t passed for her to do another treatment, but she could at least work on shoring up his body’s defenses.

Mired in exhaustion, stress and worry, she missed the concerned look on Thane’s normally impassive face.

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Chapter Seven

Two days later, Ilexa stood on the same precipice where she’d first seen Creary. This time, Creary arrived with an entourage…and in a transport. Quatres had explained that Creary walked the ridiculous distance from the approaching army to the cliff top in accordance with the planet’s traditions. She was learning many of Dunia’s traditions predated even the written word and the planet clung to its traditions with a tenacity she found impressive, if somewhat ridiculous—such as the Quixivon one that called upon Creary to ingest sacred herbs to open his mind to the Dunian god before approaching the Hakimu. She’d already sent a batch of palava tea leaves to a N’yotan lab for study.

Creary leapt from the transport with agility impressive for a man his size. He turned and helped the dainty figure beside him down, before striding towards Ilexa. The woman he’d aided scrambled to keep up with him.

Ilexa extended the baby she held to his father. Creary ignored the offering, wrapping his meaty arms around her and lifting her off the ground, Zavian squashed between them. When he released her, Ilexa struggled to pull air into her lungs. Seeing the Hakimu warriors around her tense, she plastered a smile on her face. The woman finally caught up with Creary. Raw hope shone on her face. “Is that him?”

“Healer Ilexa, may I present my wife, Rhyna.”

Petite didn’t do the woman justice. She barely came to Ilexa’s chest and was so slender she probably had to jump around in the rain to get wet. Luminous blue eyes stared at Ilexa from a pixie face. The incongruity of the tiny beauty wed to the extremely large and homely Creary caused her thought processes to arrest. The logistics of them conceiving Zavian…

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She managed to hide the shudder that picture brought. Recalling Rhyna’s question, she offered her the assurance the mother needed. “It’s him.”

Rhyna accepted the swaddled bundle with a worried frown. “He’s not moving.”

“He’s asleep.” Ilexa could taste the young mother’s fear. “The Falcha is gone. I promise.”

“I told her I gave him a bottle.” Pride resonated from Creary. “She doesn’t believe me. She’s afraid to hope.”

Ilexa pried the baby from his mother’s arms. With care, she tilted the baby backwards until he was inclined with his feet slightly more elevated than his head. Righting him, she repeated the maneuver twice before Zavian opened his eyes. Rhyna burst into tears when Ilexa placed the squirming baby in her arms. Answering tears tracked down Ilexa’s cheeks, and she thanked Havilla for blessing her with the skill to heal the child.

“Whatever I can do for you. Whatever is in my power to give you, it’s yours,” Rhyna vowed, soliciting gasps from the Quixivon and Hakimu alike. Creary tensed, but did not contradict his wife.

The feeling she’d missed something was becoming commonplace. Once this contract was over, she was going to have a few choice words with the IMEP directors. More than a few.

She settled for saying, “You can give me your word that you and Zavian’s doctors will follow these instructions to the letter.”

Creary took the data pad from her hand, while his wife gave her word. The Malkia moved to Ilexa’s side. “You could also attend a celebration we will host in honor of the new alliance between the Quixivon and Hakimu.”

“The honor is ours.” Creary slung an arm around his wife and child.

“Wonderful. The celebration shall begin the night of the new moon.”

“We look forward to seeing you then,” Creary replied, without taking his eyes off his wife cradling their yawning baby boy.

“My salutations to your father.”

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“I offer thanks on his behalf, Malkia. We will see you next week.” Creary raised his eyes to Ilexa. “Thank you, healer.”

“My pleasure.”

To Ilexa’s surprise, the entire Quixivon delegation, including Creary and Rhyna, bowed. Not to the Malkia, but to her.

Ilexa froze like a gundar in the light. She had no idea how to respond. How on all the worlds did Lia handle obeisance? Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how to respond to such ceremony.

The Quixivon straightened as one and moved regally to the waiting transport. Until Rhyna broke rank and ran back to Ilexa.

“May we bring Zavian for you to check on? Make sure he’s progressing like he should?” Rhyna pleaded.

Ceremony be damned. Ilexa hugged the much smaller woman. “I’ll check on Zavian any time you like.”

“Thank you.” Rhyna turned, not quite in time to hide the renewed tears in her eyes. The Hakimu watched until the transport became a speck in the sky. Rhys raised a fist and the warriors dispersed without a word, leaving Thane, Rhys, Ilexa and the Malkia alone.

Ilexa mopped her cheeks with the back of her hand, feeling vaguely ashamed of her emotional response before the stoic tribe members.

The Malkia checked her timepiece. “Thane, escort the healer to communications for her conference.”

“What⎯?” Ilexa began, but the Malkia and Rhys walked off. Thane tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, but Ilexa dug in her heels, demanding, “What conference?”

“The Damaia scheduled a call with you.”

“Why would Lia call the Malkia to schedule a call with me?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say it was because you have ignored all their attempts to contact you.”

“I have returned every attempt at communication Talon has made.”

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“And yet you have failed to actually speak to him.”

Ilexa shrugged. “My brother is first minister of my world. He is constantly in meetings.”

“Perhaps you should have tried returning his call in the evenings. When he was at home rather than calling his office.”

Apparently, he’d been checking up on her. She glared at Thane on principal. “I take it my whole family is waiting to ambush me via subspace.” Images of her five older brothers—assuming Bastian wasn’t offworld—glaring at her over a viewscreen made her grimace.

Thane shrugged.

Did that mean yes or no? Trying to distract herself from the upcoming confrontation—and from the feel of thick muscle under her hand—Ilexa asked, “Will the Quixivon Malkia be attending?”

Thane peered down at her with suspicion. “What?”

“The celebration,” she prodded. “Will the Quixivon Malkia be attending?”

“They don’t have one.”

“One what?”

“Malkia.”

“They don’t have a Malkia?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

Thane didn’t respond.

Ilexa huffed out an exasperated breath. “Yes they do or yes they don’t?”

“The Quixivon do not have a Malkia.”

“Then who leads them?” Ilexa asked as they made their way up the ramp to the administration offices.

“The chief.”

Ilexa stopped walking. Thane dragged her a few steps before halting. He looked down at her with raised eyebrows.

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“You know, Thane. If you string a few words together, throw in a noun and verb, you actually create a sentence. String a few sentences together, and you are able to share an entire thought. String a few thoughts together, and voila, you are actually communicating.”

She thought she saw his lips twitch. “The Quixivon have a hereditary tribal leadership. Liken leads them. Creary will one day replace him, and eventually Zavian will replace Creary.”

Ilexa patted his upper arm with her free hand. “There. Was that so hard?”

“May we continue?” He did not respond to her taunt, but she’d swear he’d been amused.

They began walking. “Are the Hakimu the only ones with a Malkia?”

“All the worlds of the Central Alliance worship the same God, but there are variations in theology among tribes. The Deity has blessed two other tribes with a Malkia.”

“I’d like to meet them.”

“A Malkia never leaves the safety of her tribe.”

“Oh.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence as Ilexa digested the information. A young soldier vibrating with nerves awaited them outside the communications office. “The Damaia herself has called twice. I assured her you were on the way.”

Ilexa nodded her thanks. She wondered if Lia’s station or her beauty had the young man rattled. She’d bet the latter.

Thane opened the door. Ilexa dropped his arm and preceded him into the large communications room. She glanced at the chronometer on the wall. She quickly calculated the time difference. Late morning meant early evening in the N’yotan capitol. The com panel in the center of the large conference table chimed. Thane closed the door and quickly crossed to answer the call.

Lady Ophelia, Damaia of N’yota, appeared larger-than-life on the viewscreen. Wild, fiery curls cascaded past her shoulders to the top of her extended stomach. Pregnancy 80

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made the already beautiful woman ravishing. Her starburst blue-gold eyes were luminous against a glowing rose-and-cream complexion.

Lia’s smile disappeared when her gaze found Ilexa settling into a chair. The sovereign’s lips compressed and her nostrils flared. She jerked her attention to Thane and demanded, “What did you do to her?”

Confused, Ilexa paused a beat before she gathered her wits to greet her sister-in-law.

“It’s wonderful to see you, too. You look beautiful. Pregnancy agrees with you. How are you feeling?”

Lia snarled. How in the universe did the woman manage to screw up her face and still look beautiful?

“I feel like a beached whale and your niece or nephew is playing Nitze squares with my bladder and kidneys.”

“That’s normal.”

“I know it’s normal. Everyone keeps telling me it’s normal. That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Blame Talon.”

“I do. Believe me, I do.” Lia shifted on her seat and narrowed her eyes at Ilexa. “You distracted me. This baby is making it impossible to hold a thought, and you’re taking advantage.”

“Sorry.”

“Liar.” Lia’s reply held no heat until she turned back to Thane. “What did you do to her? She looks like shit.”

Ilexa fought back a laugh. Lia’s harsh mining background often clashed with her royal status. “Thank you for the kind words.”

“Thane,” Lia growled, ignoring her sister-in-law.

“We have done nothing to her. She has done it to herself. You should have sent a babysitter with a blaster to keep her in line.”

“Hey!” Ilexa protested. Deciding she couldn’t rely on such a witty rejoinder, she added, “I don’t look that bad.”

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“You’re so pale I can almost see right through you. You could store loose credits in the bags under your eyes—and how much weight have you lost?”

She had noticed her clothing seemed looser, but she hadn’t given it much thought.

“Things have been a little hectic. Once I catch up on my sleep, I’ll be fine.”

Lia worried her lower lip. “Lex, if Talon laid eyes on you right now, he’d commandeer the nearest warship and tax the engines to get there and bring you home.”

“I expected to see him with you.”

“Since you’re avoiding him, I thought if I talked to you, he’d quit fretting. He’s in a budget meeting.”

“I thought the budget had passed.”

“It should have, but one of the delegates held it up over the health education allocation. Talon may—Oh no you don’t! I’m worried about you.”

Fright shone in Lia’s eyes and guilt crashed onto Ilexa’s shoulders. Lia had spent the majority of her life alone. She cherished her newfound family with a ferocity Ilexa had never seen. Fear was the natural twin of such ferociousness. Having only recently discovered what it was to love and be loved in return, the thought that she could lose someone she loved terrorized Lia.

No pregnant woman benefited from terror.

“I’m fine,” Ilexa swore without any trace of light-heartedness. “I’m still adjusting to being the only healer available. Things are settling down.”

“I find it frightening that you consider starting a war settling down. It makes me wonder what else is happening.”

It was Ilexa’s turn to snarl. She rounded on Thane. “What? Are you giving them a play-by-play? Detailing every move I make? Who I talk to? What I had for dinner?”

“I have not spoken to anyone on N’yota since your…healing of Tafari.”

“Come on, Lex. You don’t think Talon would let you leave without having a network of people to watch over you and report to him?” Lia interjected, sounding too amused to suit Ilexa.

“Big Brother—”

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“Loves and worries about you. Don’t take that for granted.”

“Lia—”

A chirp interrupted the conversation. Lia glanced down at the com panel below her viewscreen.

“Talon’s home.” Lia raised her eyes to meet her sister-in-law’s. “I’ll tell him I spoke to you and you’re well but tired. Contact me a week from today. If you don’t—or I’m not satisfied you’re better—I’ll tell Talon I need you for the birth.”

“I’m not an OB specialist.”

Lia raised a brow in a perfect imitation of Talon. “Do you think that will matter?

Your brother will give me anything I want to make me more comfortable during the birth. Plus, it will allow him to do what he desperately wants and force you home.”

“You fight dirty.”

“You have no idea how dirty I can fight. I’ll talk to you in a week.”

Lia cut the communication, and Ilexa dropped her forehead to the table with a loud groan. She began to lightly pound her head against it.

“I don’t think that constitutes taking care of yourself,” Thane said, as her head made contact with his palm rather than the smooth wood of the conference table. She left her head against the warm skin of his hand. “I’m the only IMEP participant who has to worry about starting an interplanetary incident if she doesn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

“It’s more than lack of sleep. You are making yourself ill.”

With effort, she sat upright. “I’ve managed my own life quite well for a while now.”

Thane’s expression said more clearly than words that he found her claim questionable. “Regardless, you need to recover. The Malkia informed medical you would not work today. You are not to set foot in there.”

Temper sparked. “You can’t just decide my schedule or change it on a whim.”

“If you’d take care of yourself, I wouldn’t have to.”

She didn’t miss the fact that he admitted he was the one dictating to her. She shoved it away in favor of an argument he couldn’t contradict. “Do you know how healing

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works? What happens to a patient when a session is missed? Especially when healing requires multiple complex treatments? What would have happened to Zavian?”

“I know you will be no help to any of your patients if you work yourself to death.”

His arrogance had her grinding her teeth. She would have to make an appointment with a dentist soon. “I promised Drea I would be there for her exam today. I gave her my word. Enough people have failed her. I won’t be one of them.”

She had the satisfaction of seeing Thane jerk in response. Her accusatory tone was brutal, but she’d be damned before allowing Drea to go through that alone.

“I thought she’d already seen the doctor.”

Righteous indignation withered in light of the widow’s suffering. “The baby is healthy. The doctor is going to perform a detailed exam of Drea. Some of the…things…her husband subjected her to scarred her birth canal and cervix. There is also some problem with the alignment of her pelvis due to improperly healed breaks. Doctor Eiverin is going to evaluate treatment options.”

Thane pulled her chair out as she rose. “What time is her appointment?”

Ilexa looked at the chronometer again. “It’s in forty-five minutes. I’d like to get there early to review her chart.”

“I’ll escort you to medical on the condition you spend the remainder of the day resting.”

She was going to that appointment irrespective of Thane’s wishes, but despite what she’d implied, Ilexa had no afternoon appointments. She lost nothing by appearing to concede. Plus, it made her look reasonable. And she was tired. “Fine.”

As they left communications, Thane asked, “Will you be helping Drea psychologically?”

“No. That’s a very rare gift. There are only two Mindhealers on N’yota right now.”

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Mindhealers going insane. For that reason, those with the gift were carefully monitored, their freedoms restricted.

“What will you do for Drea?”

“I’ll be her friend.”

They walked a few steps in silence. “How did you know?”

“That she was being abused?” Ilexa reached up and fiddled with a loose hairpin, tightening the bun at the nape of her neck. “Abuse signs are obvious if you know what you are looking at. We showed up unannounced in the presence of the Malkia while her husband prepared for war. All she worried about was making sure everything was perfect. Her appearance, the appearance of her home, what she could serve us to eat. She couldn’t think beyond what he would expect of her in that moment. Coupled with her reaction to her husband’s death…”

“We should have known.” Thane’s blue eyes darkened almost black with emotion.

“Her tribe should have known.”

“The lengths abusers—and the abused—go to hide what is happening… What’s important is that the tribe help Drea now. She blames herself and is ashamed. She needs to be encouraged to heal without judgment.”

“She needs to feel safe.”

“Emotionally as well as physically.”

They continued to medical, trailing a heavy silence in their wake.

***

Ilexa left the exam room a good twenty minutes after the patient. The medic, Quatres, left the room at the same time, one of his arms around Ilexa’s slumped shoulders. Thane refrained, through sheer effort of will, from throwing the medic through the wall. He couldn’t wait for Quatres to show up for his mandatory hand-to-hand training. Thane intended to take a personal interest in helping the young man better his fighting skills.

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Quatres gave her shoulders a squeeze, released her and walked away in the opposite direction. Thane fell into step beside her.

They had almost reached Ilexa’s room when he finally asked, “Are you unwell?

Should you return to medical?”

The most pathetic excuse for a reassuring smile he’d ever seen appeared on her face.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s Drea?”

“Her recovery will be slow.”

Physically or just mentally? Guilt ate at Thane. Granted he’d barely known who Borys was, but he still blamed himself. He should have seen the monster lurking beneath the man’s subpar skills. Drea should have known she could have sought protection from the tribal leaders. They would have protected her, as would Rhys, the Malkia, or any other warrior.

How could he be trusted to protect the tribe as a whole if he couldn’t protect one small woman?

They reached Ilexa’s hallway when something suddenly occurred to Thane. “You missed lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat.”

“I can’t. Not after hearing Drea explain her injuries.”

“I thought you medical people had lead-lined stomachs.”

“It’s not the injuries…it’s how she got them.”

They reached Ilexa’s door. Before he could figure out what he wanted to say, Ilexa murmured, “I’ll see you at dinner,” and disappeared into her room. Feeling like an idiot, Thane stared at the closed door. He couldn’t tear himself away. A feeling, an intuition, kept him rooted in place. Finally, he gave in. He rapped on the door once before throwing it open without waiting for a response. Thane drew up short. Ilexa sat on the floor beside the bed with her knees drawn up, a pillow resting on them. She sobbed—great shoulder-shaking sobs—into the pillow. 86

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He shut the door before anyone could walk by and see her crying. He doubted her pride could stand that. He crossed the room and sat next to her, dropping a gentle hand onto her shoulder.

She bolted upwards with a startled screech only partially muffled by the falling pillow. Her feet tangled, and she would have landed on her side if he hadn’t caught her, pulling her against his side.

“Lex, it’s me,” he soothed, using the nickname he hadn’t uttered in years. She took two shuddering breaths and lifted liquid silver eyes to his. Tears tracked along her cheeks and he wanted to howl with the agony the sight of her pain brought.

“How could he do that to her? To two innocent babies?” She began to shake like a sapling in a hurricane. “He raped her with a knife and with—”

Gulping sobs cut her off. Thane knew she wasn’t actually asking him about Drea. She probably understood Borys’s psychology—pathology—better than he did. Her innocent, gentle soul was demanding the answer to the ultimate question. Why is there evil?

He couldn’t answer that question, but he gave her what comfort he could, pulling her into his lap. Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

She cried against his neck as he rocked her gently, wishing he could make all the evil in the universe go away just to bring her peace. He continued rocking Ilexa until she finally succumbed to the exhaustion plaguing her. She released a trembling sigh and went boneless in his arms.

Once convinced she’d reached a deep sleep, Thane rose and deposited her on the bed. He dried his neck on the edge of the sheet before crawling into bed next to her. She rolled immediately into his arms and snuggled against him. Where she belonged. Pleased that at least her subconscious understood his place in her life, Thane settled comfortably onto her mattress. If she had a nightmare, he’d be there to comfort her. Thane awoke to the sensation of falling. Only his quick reflexes honed by years of fighting enabled him to get his legs underneath him before landing on his ass.

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“What are you doing?” Ilexa shrieked.

“Comforting you?”

Ilexa scrambled across the bed, eyes bleary with sleep. He watched with some amusement as she pitched face first into the mattress three times before reaching the edge of the bed. She would have tumbled headfirst to the floor if he hadn’t caught her. Righting her on the bed, Thane couldn’t resist teasing her. “Easy Lex. I’m already off the bed. Your virtue’s safe.”

Ilexa blinked a few times and her eyes finally focused on him. “Thane?”

“Remind me not to sleep with a weapon under the pillow. You’d skewer me before you woke up.”

“Huh?”

Thane found her confusion adorable. “You slept almost five hours.”

He hadn’t. Instead, he’d savored the feel of her body against his, only dozing for the last half hour.

“I talked Drea into joining the communal meal.” Panic flashed in her eyes.

“Dinner doesn’t start for another ten minutes.”

Ilexa gasped when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, hands flying to her head. “You took my hair down?”

“I thought you’d be more comfortable.” He didn’t even blink at the lie. He’d taken her hair down because he wanted to see that magnificent mane spilling over the pillow and around that luscious body the IMEP uniform displayed. Ilexa rushed across the room and pulled open a drawer. Snatching up a brush, she ripped it through her hair in punishing strokes. He watched her twist it up into a tight ball that seemed far too small to contain those brilliant locks. She shoved two long, thin sticks through the ball, and he was amazed to see the hair stay in place when she dropped her hands.

She bolted out the door, only to turn around and race back into the room. “Are you coming?” she demanded with impatience.

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Chapter Eight

The mountain keep bustled in a flurry of activity preparing for the celebration. Ilexa tried to ignore the hubbub and settled into a routine. She set a schedule with medical, much to Doctor Eiverin’s annoyance. He wanted her on twenty-four-hour call to see the patients he alone chose.

Ilexa loathed working with the man. She felt like a bug under a microscope around him. Worse, the man focused so much attention on her that the patient was a secondary concern at best.

He didn’t balk when Ilexa laid out the criteria for being called in on emergencies. He looked as though someone was grating lemons against his teeth, but he held his tongue. Ilexa didn’t believe for a moment that he accepted her terms out of professional respect or courtesy. Either Thane or the Malkia had spoken to him. Likely both. She’d noticed the tribe seemed divided about her since Zavian had been discovered. Not that they’d ever been particularly warm and welcoming. Drea had explained the split fell between those in favor of the new peace and those who felt Ilexa had destroyed part of Hakimu sacred tradition. Drea hadn’t been able to explain why having an enemy constituted a sacrament.

She ignored the fallout from her actions as much as possible and concentrated on her healing gift.

Juggling several medical texts, Ilexa worked to free a hand to open the door to her room.

“I see the princess has returned. Couldn’t find a lackey to carry and fetch for you?”

Ilexa stifled a groan. Ignoring the hostile words, she turned with a perfunctory smile.

“Good afternoon, Karia.”

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“I suppose you are proud of yourself,” the other woman sneered. “You come to our world, into our tribe, and decide to remake us into what you think we should be.”

Even though she knew it was pointless, Ilexa tried. “I have no intention of trying to change the tribe.”

“Yet you bring our enemy into the very seat of the Hakimu tribe. You orchestrate a so-called peace. Tell me. Are you trying to set yourself up as our Messiah? Saving us from ourselves?”

Ilexa clenched her jaw and counted to five. “I’m trying to heal my patients.”

Karia continued as though Ilexa hadn’t spoken. “I’m sure you are quite proud of this

‘celebration’. The Malkia might be generous enough to tolerate your machinations, but the tribe sees you for what you are and knows this farce of a fête means nothing.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” And if the tribe sees me for what I am and this farce means nothing, why are you making such a scene? She refrained from kidney punching the annoying woman. And Talon said she lacked diplomacy.

“Not to mention the way you pant after Thane.” Karia tilted her head back to look down her nose at the taller woman. “He is a warrior of the highest rank, and will look for a wife worthy of bearing his sons—his warrior sons.”

Bingo. Ilexa’s smile became saccharine sweet. “I’m certain Thane is more discerning than you credit him. No doubt he wants more from a wife than a socially acceptable pair of ovaries.”

Karia feinted lunging at Ilexa. Ilexa didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t drop a single book. She might not have any warrior training, but no one could call her a coward. Karia drew herself up to her full height and sneered at Ilexa. “A true Hakimu would never let a challenge go answered.”

Ilexa raised her eyebrow, but held her tongue. Mainly because she could think of no clever reply. Fighting insulted the goddess of healing and negatively impacted the gift the goddess gave her children. Self-defense was allowed, but she’d provoked Karia. If the other woman attacked, she’d have to take it without any physical resistance. 90

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Karia glared at Ilexa. “Challenging you would be a waste of my skills. Stay away from Thane.”

Shouldn’t you be telling Thane to stay away from me? Ilexa bit her tongue to prevent the barbed comment from escaping. The goddess had given her a reprieve, and she wouldn’t insult her patroness by taunting Karia further. Karia whirled on one foot and stomped away, muttering unflattering observations under her breath.

Ilexa shifted the books to one arm, resting her chin on them for balance, and managed to get her door open. When it closed behind her, she dropped the books onto the dresser and began to tremble with her rising anger.

It wasn’t the implication she was a weakling or self-appointed savior, but that she panted after Thane that made her livid. Sure, she found herself looking for him whenever he wasn’t around. Who could blame her? The man was gorgeous. And so what if she watched him when he was around? “Eye-candy” didn’t begin to describe his good looks. So what if she thought about him constantly…

She smacked herself in the forehead. Dammit. She was panting after the man. Rubbing the aching spot she’d just created, Ilexa began to pace. When she’d awakened next to him after her nap just days before, she’d begun to weave some fantasies about him actually wanting her. Seeing her as a woman rather than Talon’s annoying little sister.

Obviously, she hadn’t been as cool and sophisticated as she thought. Grimacing, she wondered if Thane had noticed her…crush. Embarrassment made her want to crawl under the bed, but she’d be damned before giving into such a cowardly action. She was caught between the overwhelming desire to hide and the unwillingness to give Karia the satisfaction.

Beneath it all beat her greatest fear. What if Thane preferred Karia?

***

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Ilexa dressed for the celebration with care. She wore an emerald green, floor-length gown that made her skin gleam with an almost bronze hue. She darkened her eyelashes with light brown mascara that made her eyes appear huge and lent them a smoky cast. Light makeup finished her face.

She left her hair down for the first time since arriving on Dunia. It hung past her waist and she knew the length and color would draw male eyes to her. At home, the color was considered unusual. On Dunia, it would be rare, if not unique. She stood as far back from the dresser mirror as possible trying to get the overall effect. The results brought a smile to her lips. Karia believed herself to be a goddess among the Hakimu. Ilexa intended to take her down. She might not have a chance against Karia the warrior, but she’d go head-to-head with Karia the woman any day. And this has nothing to do with Thane, her inner voice taunted. Ilexa grimaced, then squared her shoulders, determined to ignore the taunt. You spent two hours getting ready just to show Karia up. Nothing puts another woman in her place quite like a deep-conditioning hair masque. The trouble with an inner voice was the inability to plug ones ears and sing, la, la, la, la to drown it out.

Ilexa glanced at the clock. The ball—the encomium—started in ten minutes. Her mother would kill her if she showed up on time for a formal social event. Teresa Dhakir had raised her daughter to make an entrance.

She smoothed the front panel of her dress and sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to wrinkle her gown. Zavian had arrived with his parents and grandfather that morning. Liken and Creary had sequestered themselves in a private meeting with the Malkia, Rhys, Thane and other leading male members of the tribe. How a tribe led by a woman remained so patriarchal was beyond her.

Rhyna on the other hand had hustled Zavian directly to Ilexa. The worried mother hadn’t even bothered going to medical. She’d pounded on Ilexa’s door with such fervor, Ilexa had raced to fling the door open with her toothbrush still in her mouth. 92

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After reassuring the worried mother that she’d thoroughly examine the baby—and spitting out the toothpaste—she’d escorted them to medical. Rhyna quickly proved impossible to work around. She peppered everyone with questions when she wasn’t hovering over the baby and interfering with the test Quatres was trying to run. Ilexa had barred the woman from the exam room the fourth time Rhyna had pulled her from the healing trance.

An old hand at soothing frazzled parents, Ilexa had found Rhyna a challenge unlike any she’d encountered before.

Overall, the baby appeared well, though he wasn’t progressing nearly as quickly as Ilexa would have liked. She wanted to suggest the baby stay longer than the celebration so she could encourage his healing, but refrained. She wondered if it might be possible to travel to Zavian for a few follow-up visits.

She considered various ways to approach the Malkia about visiting the Quixivon until enough time had passed and then she made her way to the great hall. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, took a deep, cleansing breath and composed her expression. She intended to represent N’yota with as much grace and dignity as she could manage. And if she happened to upstage Karia, all the better.

Tafari met her at the bottom of the stairs and swept a dramatic bow. Ilexa hid a smile and took the arm he offered. It seemed she had become the focus of a young crush.

“You look ravishing.” Sincerity oozed from his pores. “My sister will be green with envy.”

“Your sister?”

“Karia.”

“I didn’t realize the two of you were related.” Prophetess, the Hakimu remained secretive about family relations. She wondered if some cultural imperative drove them to keep such information quiet.

At least now she understood where Karia’s sense of entitlement came from. As the Malkia’s granddaughter, she likely wielded a great deal of influence. It probably burned her buns that she wasn’t born the Malkine.

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“Did anyone explain the encomium to you?”

A little frisson of alarm chased up her spine. “It’s a ball to welcome the Quixivon into the good graces of the Hakimu. Is there something I’m supposed to do, some ritual that will be performed?”

Tafari laughed. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is dance and enjoy yourself.”

“I can manage that.”

“The Quixivon guests will be wearing armbands with their green and black tribal symbol on them. The Telonia and Chrylian tribes sent delegates to witness our behavior and ensure our intentions are honorable.”

“To see that the gesture wasn’t a trick to ambush the Quixivon,” Ilexa guessed.

“Exactly.” Tafari beamed at her as though she was an exceptionally bright child solving a complex math problem. “The Telonia are wearing blue arm bands, and the Chrylian are wearing yellow ones.”

“So anyone without an armband is Hakimu?”

Tafari nodded, but his eyes darted about, drawing Ilexa’s attention to several men bearing down on them. Her stomach fluttered nervously at the attention, even though she had intended to receive it.

“Would you like to dance?” Tafari actually shouted the question in a nervous rush.

“I’d love to.” Her tolerant smile turned to a grimace as Tafari stampeded over her feet in his rush to the dance floor.

She stumbled and hobbled behind him. Tafari didn’t seem to notice her discomfort as he hauled her across the floor in perfunctory movements. Finally gaining her balance, she had to hide a smile as she watched the young man’s lips move, silently counting, “One, two, three, one, two, three…”

The music ended on a two, throwing Tafari off balance. Ilexa quickly stepped back to save her aching feet and dropped into the required curtsy.

“Thank you for the dance,” she said to give Tafari time to recover himself. Before the smitten youth could reply, a hulking man with a yellow armband appeared before her, requesting the next dance. Seven dances—with seven different 94

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men—later and Ilexa desperately wanted something to drink. She was considering how to excuse herself from the next dance when Thane appeared before her. She could sense his anger. He elbowed the other man out of the way and announced,

“This dance is mine.”

Her thwarted dance partner grumbled and stalked off as the music started. Ilexa turned back to Thane, expecting him to take her waist. Instead, he stared at her, not moving, as couples drifted around them.

Uncertain about his behavior, she chose to ignore it in favor of her more pressing need. “I need something to drink.”

Thane grabbed her biceps and dragged her towards the refreshment table. She realized others perceived Thane’s anger and dangerous mood when they moved quickly out of his path.

He snatched a cup of punch off the table, but didn’t so much as pause in dragging her out into the hallway. Ilexa’s quick reflexes saved her dress when she caught the cup he thrust at her. Drops sloshed over the rim and splashed harmlessly onto the stone floor. Her temper ignited, chasing away her bewilderment at his odd behavior. “What has gotten into you?”

“Me?” he demanded. “What has gotten into you? Look at how you are dressed. Members of the Telonia, Chrylian and Quixivon tribes have almost come to blows over who gets to dance with you.”

She sucked in an offended breath, focusing on his most important complaint. “What is wrong with my dress?”

“If you are trying to start a riot, you picked the right dress.”

Ilexa glanced down at herself. The bodice was low cut and a little snug, but that was necessary to hold up a strapless gown. The skirt flowed freely around her legs. Granted, it molded to them if she moved too fast, but compared to the dresses she’d seen on other women, her dress was downright conservative.

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Why was she making these arguments to herself? She liked the dress. “There is nothing wrong with this dress. Compared to what the other women are wearing, this dress has too much material to it.”

“You are teasing men from different tribes, playing them against each other. Are you trying to start a conflict between tribes?”

She gasped so hard, she almost choked. “I am doing no such thing. I’m just dancing. What is wrong with you?”

“I’m trying to stop you from causing an incident—or making a fool out of yourself.”

Ilexa clenched the cup she held so tight, her knuckles turned white. With effort, she restrained herself from dashing the contents into his face. She might be furious, but she refused to be a cliché. She placed the cup on a ledge between two candles and squared her shoulders. “I refuse to listen to this. I’m going to assume that you have had too much to drink. I’m going to return to the party.”

Head held high, Ilexa stalked back to the dance floor seething. Thane tried to grab her arm, saying something about culture, but she wrenched free and hightailed it to a more populated area. Thane had too much pride to make a scene before the tribe. Besides, if they cared so much for cultural differences, they would have let her meet the counselor upon arrival.

Swallowing her anger, she smiled sweetly up at a handsome warrior with a green armband and let him lead her out on the dance floor. An hour later, she was cursing herself for not drinking the punch when she’d had a chance. She could have taken a break and obtained a beverage, but she had no intention of giving Thane the satisfaction of seeing her leave the dance floor. A young man around her age with a skinny build and nervous manner approached her. He wore a yellow armband and a wobbly smile. “I’m Jakum. Would you do me the honor of the next dance?”

While he had a gawky appearance, he had a voice that rivaled any professional announcer. Low, smooth and completely out of place in its outer wrapper. She returned his smile with a confident one of her own. “I would be delighted.”

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The Hakimu bandleader stepped forward and announced the next segment of dancing would be traditional Dunian reels and tribal dances. Ilexa grimaced. “I’m afraid I don’t know any of the dances that are about to begin.”

Jakum’s expression fell. “I understand.”

“However, I’m dying of thirst. Would it be too much trouble to escort me to the refreshments table?”

Jakum’s face lit up like an ion trail behind a star cruiser. “I could use a drink myself.”

The consummate gentleman, Jakum escorted her to a bench by the main entrance. With the party in full swing, no one loitered around the two large, open doors. While Jakum left her to retrieve drinks and snacks, Ilexa took the opportunity to study the intricate carvings in the wooden doors.

Each door held half a carved tree, so that when closed, a whole tree formed the center of the artistic work. Above the tree, the night sky of Dunia revealed constellation groupings Ilexa found foreign. A sense of homesickness washed over her, leaving her feeling alone and dejected.

Jakum returned, and Ilexa hid her emotions behind a serene expression. She accepted the cup with gratitude. Jakum settled beside her, placing a plate of finger foods between the two of them.

He raised his cup. “To new alliances.”

She smiled, clinking her cup against his. “To new alliances.”

Ilexa drank the entire cup in one sip, enjoying the cool wetness sliding down her throat. It left an unpleasant aftertaste, but she chased it away with a puffy chocolate pastry.

Jakum leaned back against the wall and selected a small finger sandwich. “You seem thirsty.”

She blinked, thinking over the question. “I am.”

He grinned. “Why don’t we sneak over to the kitchen and get an actual glass instead of the few drops these cups will hold?”

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That sounded like a brilliant idea. Probably the smartest idea anyone had ever had. She beamed at the genius sitting with her. “You are so smart,” she blurted out. Jakum rose and offered her his hand. She knocked the cup over onto the plate and paused to worry about it. Finally, she realized the empty cup hadn’t made a mess and raised her arm to take his hand. After three misses, he reached down and took her gently by the arm.

“Let’s go out the main doors and circle around,” he suggested. “That way, we can avoid the crowd.”

Something didn’t seem quite right with the suggestion, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She nodded her agreement, anyway. Jakum seemed to know what he was talking about.

She staggered behind him. Fortunately, he had a good grip on her hand, so she didn’t fall. He caught her around the waist and helped her out the main doors. The stars in the moonless sky seemed to swirl, and Ilexa swallowed trying to settle her stomach.

“I’m not usually so clumsy,” she whispered, before tilting into blackness.

***

“She’s gone.” Thane’s voice vibrated with rage. “She’s not in her room, and she’s not in medical. No one’s seen her in almost two hours.”

Rhys scowled. “A member of the Chrylian delegation named Jakum is missing as well.”

The two stood in a hallway off the main kitchen. Thane knew they needed to keep Ilexa’s disappearance as quiet as possible, before other warriors went after her in hopes of stealing her from the first thief. The party continued in full swing, and he prayed that no one else noticed Ilexa was gone.

“I’m going after her,” Thane growled.

“I’ll send a few warriors—”

“No.” Thane’s tone brooked no argument. “I’ll find them.”

A cold smile curved Rhys’s lips. “Jakum is a scientist.”

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“He’ll never know what hit him,” Thane promised.

“Don’t kill him.”

“I won’t…unless he’s hurt Ilexa.”

“Deity go with you.”

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Chapter Nine

Ilexa awoke to a jostling motion and the sound of repeated cursing. She tried three times, before she managed to force words past her dry throat. “Where am I?”

“Shut up. I have to concentrate.”

She knew that voice. Prying her eyes open, she turned to find Jakum behind the wheel of a skimmer. Straightening her back, she discovered she’d been harnessed into its passenger seat. Her brain felt as though it had been wrapped in cotton, but other than that, she didn’t seem to have been harmed.

Her eyes drifted shut as confusion reigned, only to snap back open when realization struck. “You drugged and kidnapped me!”

“I said shut up,” he snarled.

“What in all the hells do you think you are doing?”

“Bride-stealing. Now shut up!”

“I will not. Where do you think you are taking me?”

“Are you trying to get us killed?” he demanded. “I need to concentrate so we don’t crash. So shut up!”

If he thought telling her to shut up would work, he had no idea who he was dealing with. By the gods, she had five older brothers. She had learned the power of constantly talking at a very young age. “What you need to do is turn around and take me back to the Hakimu holding.”

“I can’t turn around,” he gritted out, clenching the wheel.

“This is not going to work. I’m not going to marry you.”

“I don’t care.”

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Well that stung. Apparently, Thalia hadn’t exaggerated about the men not actually wanting Ilexa. She squashed the blow to her self-esteem. “This will not endear you to my brother and sister-in-law. In fact, it will just make them angry.”

Jakum muttered something unflattering under his breath, then took his right hand off the wheel and ran it over the console. The shutters over her windows rolled back, and Ilexa finally saw the rain beating against the skimmer. She’d never before understood the concept of a torrent. Even with the lights of the skimmer on, she couldn’t see anything beyond the windshield—not the exterior of the skimmer.

“This has to be dangerous. Shouldn’t you stop?”

“The rains came early,” he snapped. “If we don’t get to higher ground we will be swept away in a flash flood.”

“Why in all the hells are you kidnapping me during a possible flash flood?”

“I’m not kidnapping you, I’m bride-stealing,” Jakum shouted. “And the rains weren’t supposed to come for another week.”

Ilexa glared at him, not that he took his eyes off the instruments to witness her anger.

“You couldn’t check a weather report?”

“No one expected the rains to come so soon. Otherwise, the Hakimu wouldn’t have held the encomium,” he defended.

Great. Not only did she have to be kidnapped, she had to be kidnapped by a complete idiot. Ilexa opened her mouth to respond, when Jakum let out a yelp. Before she could process his distress, the skimmer pitched forward and slammed into something with a loud crunch.

***

She felt achy, but warm. For some reason, that surprised her. Elusive memories of being cold and wet assailed her as she stretched awake beneath a warm blanket. She opened her eyes to find herself lying in a cave. Not a cave like the Hakimu keep, but the type of cave that had her scanning it for a hibernating animal. A small fire blazed nearby and she realized she lay on a portable mattress.

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Sitting up, she discovered that she was completely naked beneath the blanket. A rush of panic assailed her. Tears stung the back of her eyes as she twisted around searching for Jakum.

Hearing a noise, she spun back to the cave entrance in time to see a drenched Thane cross the threshold—did caves have thresholds?—carrying two large survival packs. Rain pounded down in sheets behind him. He dropped the packs beneath her dress, which had been draped over a small ledge in such a manner that it hung to dry. He turned his attention to her. When his gaze dipped down, she realized the blanket had pooled at her waist, leaving her breasts exposed. She jerked it back up and held it against herself, knowing her skin flushed pink with embarrassment.

“Did he hurt you?” Thane ground out.

“Drugged me.” Ilexa shifted on the mattress. She didn’t feel any soreness or telltale stickiness between her thighs. For her own peace of mind, she still had to ask, “Where did you find me?”

“A few kilometers away in the lowlands. That idiot crashed his skimmer into a hill.”

“I was still strapped into the passenger’s seat?”

Her fear must have translated to Thane, because fury blazed in his ice blue eyes. “He didn’t appear to have…touched you. You were dressed and strapped in. Did he touch you before the crash?”

“I don’t think so.” To her frustration, a renegade tear managed to escape down her cheek, leaving a cool trail behind.

Thane swore crudely, grabbed his shirt, which lay on the ground by the entrance, and dried himself vigorously with it as he crossed the small cave, and hauled her—blankets and all—into his arms. He sat carefully on the mattress, settled her in his lap and cradled her against his chest. She gave into temptation and wrapped her arms around him. Burying her face into his neck, she accepted the comfort he offered.

***

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Thane regretted the promise he’d made to Rhys with every fiber of his being. He had never wanted anything more in his life than to see Jakum dying a slow death from a gut wound. He stroked Ilexa’s back while murmuring soothing nonsense.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered against his neck.

“Why? What are you sorry for, Lex?” he asked gently.

“Getting kidnapped.”

“Honey, that’s not your fault.”

“You tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen. I shouldn’t have even gone to the party.”

Guilt swamped him. He’d let the jealousy he’d felt at seeing her in the arms of so many different men override his judgment. Now, she blamed herself for the actions of an idiot. “Of course you should have attended the party. What happened isn’t your fault.”

She didn’t respond for a moment, and he knew she didn’t believe him. He searched his mind for words to make her understand.

“Where’s Jakum?” she asked, surprising him.

“I don’t know.”

She raised her head. “What?”

He saw the alarm in her eyes, and cursed himself again. “I left him with his skimmer and instructions to find high ground. He won’t be able to make it here without a transport, I promise. But he will be able to find someplace to weather the rains. His tribe will eventually search for him.”

“What about us?”

“We’re in good shape. I had two survival packs in the transport, along with the inflatable mattress and two blankets.”

“I’m glad you weren’t hurt. I know it was dangerous coming after us. Jakum couldn’t control the transport.”

“Jakum drove a light-weight skimmer not designed for long distances, much less rough terrain and dangerous weather. My transport is designed to handle rough conditions. Once there is a break in the rain, we’ll have no problem getting back to the keep.”

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She nodded against his neck, and he wondered to what she was agreeing. Deciding to forgo that question, he addressed his more pressing concern. “I don’t think you broke anything in the crash, but I’m not sure about any internal injuries. You need to use your gift to examine yourself.”

“It doesn’t work like that. Healers can’t heal themselves.”

“Not even to check for injuries?”

“No, but I’m fairly certain nothing is wrong. I was strapped in tightly. I’m sore, probably bruised, but nothing serious.”

Her answer frustrated him, but he kept his touch on her light and soothing. The front end of the skimmer had been crushed, but the interior of the vehicle had shown little damage. In all likelihood, Ilexa suffered no serious injury, but that did nothing to eliminate his worry.

She pulled back sharply and looked at him with anxiety. “Don’t the rains last for months?”

Her alarmed expression brought a reluctant smile to his lips. “We won’t be trapped in this cave for months. I’m just waiting for the first wave to pass. The rains will lessen in their intensity for a few days, before the heavy seasonal rains settle in. We’ll leave then.”

“So how long will we be trapped in this cave?”

“A couple of days. Maybe three. Four at the outside.”

“Is there a deck of cards in one of those packs?”

The weak smile she offered him didn’t reach her eyes, but he appreciated the effort.

“There’s food and water.”

“Water?”

She sounded so hopeful, he cursed himself again. Of course she needed something to drink. He also needed to make sure she ate. He forced a light tone when he responded.

“Trust me, water is not going to be a problem.”

After settling her back on the mattress, he turned his back to her and surreptitiously adjusted his pants to hide his burgeoning desire. He gave a mental headshake as he crossed to the packs. The icy rain that left him with cold, soaked pants should have 104

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prevented him from reacting to a woman, but holding Ilexa wrapped in nothing but a blanket, caressing her skin and feeling her cling to him, had stoked his need. He pulled out a bottle of water and a meal pack. “I should warn you. These aren’t particularly appetizing.”

“I just want something to drink.”

He returned to the mattress and knelt beside it. Ilexa had arranged the blanket around her body, but he saw the wet spots from where he’d held her. After passing her the bottle of water, he massaged the meal pack to activate the heating component. He pulled the spoon off the top and opened it. “Beef stew. It will help warm you up.”

“I’m warm. You should eat it.”

He sat the packet in her lap, careful not to spill it, and retrieved the other blanket. He laid the blanket beside her on the mattress. “I’m going to set up a cistern. It will take a few minutes. When I come back, I expect you to have eaten every bite of that stew and wrapped yourself in the dry blanket.”

“Shouldn’t you warm up first? Can’t the cistern wait until morning, when you have some light?”

“You don’t have rains like these on N’yota. This rain is so heavy and the clouds so dense, sunlight won’t pierce them. It’s going to stay dark out there. I’d rather go ahead and take care of the cistern now. When I get back in, I’ll dry off and warm up. Now eat that stew.”

Ilexa turned her big, luminous eyes on him. Her voice whispered just shy of a plea,

“Thane…”

Intuition kicked in and he cupped her face. His hand seemed large and coarse next to her soft skin. “I’m not going far, baby. You give a shout and I’ll come running. I’m going to be just outside the mouth of the cave. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She worried her lower lip and gave him an embarrassed look. “I’ll be fine.”

He admired the bravado in her voice. “I mean it about the stew. You eat it and wrap up in the dry blanket, or I’ll pink your backside.”

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Surprise and something else flared in her eyes at his threat. He dropped his hand and strode out of the cave, letting the freezing rain take care of his desire.

***

She did feel better after eating the stew. A little demon inside her taunted her to stay wrapped in the slightly damp blanket, just to test Thane’s threat. When she realized she was actually considering it, Ilexa quickly shucked off the blanket and wrapped the dry one around her in a complicated manner, forming a traditional N’yotan dress. Not that anyone had worn that style on her homeworld in a few centuries, but her mother had taught Ilexa the tradition.

After gathering the little bit of trash into a small heap, she carried the other blanket over to a rock protruding just above her head. It took three tries before she managed to get it to hang on the rock without falling.

She hung his shirt with more ease, and turned to survey the small cave she’d be calling home for the next couple of days. Thane had set up two portable lights on opposite sides of the cave. The fire burned in the dead center with the mattress on the opposite side of the mouth of the cave.

That struck her as odd, and she glanced at the ceiling, expecting to see smoke teeming in the air. She didn’t. A closer inspection revealed a number of large fissures running along the ceiling. She surmised the fissures didn’t lead straight to open air, because no rain fell into the cavern.

A sound behind her made her jump, and she spun to face the entrance, swallowing the instinctive scream that leapt to her throat. Her face must have reflected her fear, because Thane paused in the rain.

He held his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. “It’s just me.”

Her heart’s galloping pace didn’t slow, but she schooled her face to relief. “That was fast.”

“Simple set-up. It’s a temporary one, but it’s all we need.”

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“I’ll get you a towel.” She hurried over to the survival packs. It was either that or succumb to the desire to lick every drop of water off that magnificent chest. She’d been admiring it since he greeted her upon her arrival on Dunia. The tattoo appeared to beat its wings as his chest muscles flexed and bunched. There was something raw about seeing such a primitive marking on a man’s chest. Something that called to the primal woman within her.

Thane accepted the towel with murmured thanks, after wringing out his hair with a vicious twist. He briskly rubbed it along his bare torso and arms. At close range she could see the chill bumps…and his hard nipples.

Unconsciously, she licked her lips. “Go sit by the fire. I’ll get you some stew.”

Thane bent and retrieved a small wad of cloth from the pack she had been rooting through. He hesitated a moment, concern in his eyes. “I need to get out of these wet pants.”

She couldn’t stop the blush that spread across her face. She prayed that he’d attribute it to embarrassment and not the desire she felt at the thought of his hard, naked body.

“The other blanket isn’t dry. We could cut this one—”

“I have this.” He held up the small wad of clothing balled in his fist. “It will cover my…necessities. I wouldn’t change if it weren’t important to dry off.”

She realized the source of his concern and stepped forward, placing a kiss on his chilly cheek. “I’m fine. I’m not made of glass. I was disoriented and I panicked. I’ve found my spine again.”

He caught her chin in his cold hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t belittle your experience or natural reaction. Just know you are safe. I’ll take care of you, Lex. I promise.”

He held her gaze for a long moment and Ilexa’s knees went weak. Caring, promise and more turbulent emotions blazed in his blue eyes. Surely that much passion meant more than mere concern for his friend’s sister.

“I’m going over by the fire to change,” he finally said.

“I’ll find the stew.” She knelt to search the pack and struggled with the temptation to sneak a peek.

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She found the stew and a pleasant surprise. She rubbed the stew’s packet according to the directions and had begun to rise when Thane called out, “I’m decent.”

Ilexa turned with a smile and froze when she saw him. He’d turned to shake out his pants, leaving him in profile—and to her relief—oblivious to her reaction. He’d changed into a loincloth similar to the ones worn by the hunting party on her first night on Dunia. She took advantage of his inattention to admire his physique. He had no visible body hair, just bronze expanses of flesh stretched over long, thick muscles. His hair lay in a twist over one shoulder, giving her an unimpeded view of his neck and face. Prophetess. Even the man’s earlobes were cut. With a final snap of the pants in his hands, Thane straightened and his blazing blue eyes pinned her for an interminable moment. She wrenched her eyes from his and nearly stepped into the fire in her haste to shove the instant meal at him.

“I’ll hang your pants.” Ilexa could have kicked herself for the squeak in her voice. Thane fumbled the stew when she snatched the pants from his hand. He recovered and caught the stew and the trailing leg of his pants before it dragged through the fire.

“Eat,” she ordered and rushed across the cave. Unable to find another makeshift hook, she spread his pants across a large rock. Her reflexes came back online before she bashed the bottle of Inderian whiskey she’d found against the rock. Get a grip, she ordered herself and carried the bottle back with her to sit beside Thane.

He cast her a worried look. “I’m sorry. This is all I had that was dry.”

Damn. His kindness and concern wore against the shields she had scrambled to erect against her growing desire for him.

“Fearing for your virtue?” She offered an exaggerated leer. Relief lit his eyes. “You might be more woman than I can handle.”

As the gods as her witness, Ilexa could no more have stopped herself than quit breathing. She stretched sinuously and placed the bottle of liquor on the ground between them. Leaning back on her hands, she purred, “No question about that.”

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To her satisfaction, Thane swallowed hard. He swept up the bottle and took a healthy swig. He passed it back to her. “Sorry no glasses.”

She laughed and thought what the hells. After taking a strong swig, she passed it back. It burned down her throat with a pleasant heat that chased some of the cavern’s chill away. “It’s a good thing you’re a more competent warrior than Jakum.”

Thane’s sneer conveyed volumes. “Jakum is no warrior. Unlike the Hakimu, all members of the Chrylian are not required to undergo warrior training. They’re a caste system. Jakum belongs to the academic caste.”

“So I was kidnapped by a weak idiot.”

A bark of surprised laughter escaped Thane. “Actually, Jakum is a renowned scientist.”

“Please. The man couldn’t find North with a thousand compasses and a cartographer pointing and yelling ‘it’s that way’.”

Thane snorted and took another swig. Changing the subject, he asked, “So who’d they exchange you for?”

“What?”

“The IMEP. I understand it’s a one-for-one deal. Each planet receives one IMEP

volunteer in exchange for each of its own volunteers.”

“A Freykan acupuncturist.”

Thane jolted, incredulous. “A needle pusher?”

“An acupuncturist,” Ilexa repeated.

“‘Let me shove a needle here and it will fix all your problems’,” Thane mocked.

“And if someone had said a healer could kneel beside a boy and almost rebuild his arm without touching it?”

Chastened, Thane grimaced. “You have a point.”

“I’d hoped to be assigned to Freyka,” Ilexa confessed. “I’d like to study acupuncture and chi.”

“Chi?”

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“It’s what healers call our life force. That part of us we collate and send into a patient. The Freykan have a similar concept, though they use needles to manipulate the patient’s chi rather than using their chi to aid the patient.”

“You’ll forgive me if I admit you are talking above my head?”

Ilexa laughed. “It’s not a ‘head’ thing. Few understand, except practitioners.” They sat in comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth. After several minutes, Ilexa asked, “What time is it?”

“A few hours until dawn.”

“The morning after the encomium?”

Thane started as though her question had given him insight into her mind. “You were only missing a few hours before I found you,” he growled. Tears pricked behind her eyes. “My internal clock is all scrambled.”

Thane cursed. Despite having five brothers, Ilexa had to admit she’d never heard so much swearing in one day.

“You need to get some sleep and recover.”

“You need to eat that stew.” She tapped the spoon for emphasis. He grimaced and opened the meal packet. “I hate these things.”

“There is probably something in it that might resemble nutrition. If nothing else, you need the warmth.” Warmth was becoming a distant memory for Ilexa. Thane’s sharp eyes swept over her. “You’ve got chill bumps.”

She shrugged. “It’s cool in here.”

Close to freezing was more like it, but Thane had suffered the elements while she stayed by the fire. She’d be damned before she complained about a little chill. It took effort not to shiver, but she’d shown enough weakness.

“You should wrap yourself completely in the blanket.” Thane spoke between shovelfuls of stew.

A wave of guilt swamped her. He’d been out in the cold rescuing her and arranging a water supply. Now he sat beside her in nothing more than a loincloth and worried about her comfort. “You should take the blanket. My dress is probably dry by now.”

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Thane snorted a laugh as he crumpled the empty meal wrapper. “Don’t worry about me, Lex. I can take care of myself.”

The implication she couldn’t stung. “Likewise.” She gritted her teeth, realizing that wasn’t actually true. “I appreciate you saving me from Jakum, but I’m perfectly fine now.”

Thane’s expression turned serious. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I just want to see you comfortable.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, well aware of her stiff manner. Thane heaved an exasperated sigh and pushed to his feet. He grabbed the trash from his meal—and the small pile she’d created—and carried them to the packs. He pulled out a small bag and shoved the trash into it before crossing to check the various hanging items.

Ilexa enjoyed the flexing of his thighs as he rose and the play of skin as it moved over strong muscle as he moved about the cave.

“Nothing’s dry enough for you to wrap around yourself. You’ll have to keep using that blanket.”

His voice jolted her out of her sensual perusal. She glared at him. “And what about you?”

“I’ll sleep on the side of the mattress closest to the fire.”

She could only blame Llewoki, the god of mischief, for her response. “By all the gods. We are both adults. I think we can share a blanket.”

Thane froze and she saw his muscles tense. “You’ll be naked.”

Ilexa would have rolled her eyes if desire hadn’t hit her so hard. She swallowed and forced a professional mien. “Thane, the fire is helping, but we need to share body heat. If you can’t handle skin to skin, I can put the dress back on.”

If his raised eyebrows were any indication, Thane clearly heard the challenge in her voice. “I can handle it, baby. Can you?”

Twenty minutes later, she wasn’t so sure. Snuggled against Thane, her naked breasts pressed to his bare chest, the chill receded, but her worry followed her into sleep.

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***

He’d lost his damned mind. There was no other explanation for his actions. Granted, the temperature of the cave caused discomfort, but it hovered nowhere near a temperature dangerous to their survival.

He gritted his teeth as Ilexa stretched and snuggled back down. He’d lost count of the number of times she’d rubbed against him, bringing a certain part of his anatomy to full attention.

Her suggestion that they share the blanket had given him hope that she’d meant the invitation as more than just sharing warmth. One touch of her chilly skin had simultaneously doused his optimism and kindled his arousal. Pulling her flush against him to warm her had him swallowing a groan and carefully positioning his lower body. He considered sliding out from beneath the blanket to alleviate his most pressing need, but Ilexa held onto him with a death grip. Reminding himself she’d endured a trauma, he resolved to endure the suffering.

Images of the crumpled skimmer he’d found danced through his mind and he tightened his hold on the sleeping woman. He’d taken care of Ilexa first. Ascertaining no broken bones, he’d carried her to his transport with care. He could have kicked himself for going back to rouse Jakum. He should have left him to rot—and hopefully be swept away in a flood.

Ilexa pressed her ample chest against him and he groaned. It was going to be a hell of a long night.

***

Ilexa woke to the unmistakable sensation of a mouth on her nipple. Given the erotic dream she’d been having of Thane naked before the fire in the great hall, it took a moment for her mind to recognize it was actually happening and not part of her dream. 112

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In the dim firelight, she saw Thane’s profile as he suckled her nipple before nuzzling the valley between her breasts. Sensations rippled from her chest to her core and she shifted to her back, gripping his shoulders to pull him along with her. He latched onto her other nipple and her back arched, forcing herself deeper into his mouth. Her legs parted of their own accord and he settled between them. When he pressed against her, the loincloth did nothing to hide the man’s…gifted status. Her heart raced and she pointedly ignored the voice in her head warning her to take it slow, to talk to Thane first. He rubbed his lower body between her legs and sensation drowned out the annoying little voice.

“Thane,” she breathed.

A strange, snorting sound was her reply.

Her body froze and she ignored its clamor for completion. Lifting her head, she took in Thane’s face. Even in the flickering light of the fire, she could see his eyes remained closed. A snuffle escaped him.

The blasted man was asleep.

Irate, Ilexa bolted upright, shoving the snoring man off the mattress—and herself. Thane came awake and rocketed to his feet.

“What’s wrong?” he thundered, the light of battle in his eyes, his hand going to his naked waist for a weapon that wasn’t there.

“You were asleep,” Ilexa shrieked, coming to her own feet. Thane blinked at her. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Furious, she put her hands on her hips. “Nothing. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

He switched on the light closest to the mattress. “Ilexa, I can’t protect you unless I know what’s wrong.”

The reasonableness of his tone only exacerbated her temper. With the light on, she could see his arousal straining against the loincloth. Having felt it, she wondered how the small cloth contained him. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Ilexa—” he growled.

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She sniffed haughtily. “If you want to know what’s wrong, I suggest that next time you wake up before making love to a woman.”

The battle fire in his eyes shifted to a different type of heat. His gaze raked over her, reminding Ilexa she stood naked before him. Pride kept her from covering her body with her arms and hands—though it was a close thing.

His hot gaze fell to the junction of her thighs. A glance down revealed moisture glittering there. Thane took a step towards her and she took an instinctive step back.

“Was I making love to you, Lex?” He didn’t slow his advance and she quickly found her back against the wall—literally. He pinned her there with his body. She’d raised her hands in defense at his approach and found them skimming the smooth skin of his chest just below the nipples. It certainly put a new spin on the phrase between a rock and a hard place.

He lowered his head until his lips hovered a few centimeters from hers. She felt his breath blow across her lips when he asked, “Were you enjoying it?”

“Thane, we should talk.” Ilexa swallowed when the tip of her finger grazed his nipple. Gods, the man’s body produced a furnace of heat.

“Talk? Is that what you want to do?” He punctuated the rhetorical question by capturing her lips.

The man had talent. He traced her lower lip with his tongue, a delicate touch that sent her pulse skyrocketing. Then he deepened the kiss. His tongue stroked over hers with an erotic skill that set her body on fire. He tasted spicy and she craved more. Twining her fingers in his hair, she wantonly pressed herself flush against him. Only then did she realize he’d held her captive with his mouth alone. Tense and straining, his arms hung by his side.

She shifted to cradle his erection between her legs. That broke Thane’s tenuous control. He thrust against her, the rub of his loincloth against her created a delicious friction she enjoyed for the split second it took the force of his desire to drive her spine into a protruding rock.

“Ow!” she yelped, shoving at him.

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Thane took two steps back and tripped on the edge of the mattress, which sent him sprawling. Naturally, he landed on a mattress. He raised his head to glare at her. “What the hell?”

“A rock, Mr. Romance.”

Thane held a hand towards her. “Come here and I’ll kiss it better.”

The little voice started screaming caution, but Ilexa easily ignored it in favor of the sensual promise shining in Thane’s eyes. Moving forward, she took his hand and let him pull her down beside him.

She lay still as he raised himself over her.

“This has been a long time coming,” he admitted before adding with a wry grin,

“Pun intended.”

He swallowed her laugh when he took her mouth, before rolling her over and kissing his way down her spine. She had to admit, it did make it better. He continued to worship her body with his mouth. He turned her onto her back, and lowered his mouth to her breasts, bringing her to a fevered pitch before finally rising over her. Lying between her thighs, he pinned her hands on either side of her head. He ignored her writhing and asked, “Are you sure? Decide now before I make you mine.”

The timber of his growl vibrated through her, and she would have promised to explore Dunia’s largest moon without an atmosphere suit if it meant she could feel him inside her. “Yes.”

He hesitated. “You’ve done this before?”

She supposed she should have been touched by his concern, but at that moment, she wanted to kill him for the delay. “Yes. Have you?”

He grunted a startled laugh and finally pushed home, stretching her and creating a fantastic burn. They moved together driving each other higher and higher until the world splintered and they cried out together.

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Chapter Ten

Thane lay replete with Ilexa draped across his chest. One hand sketched gently across her back while the other cupped her neck beneath that amazing mane of hair. He felt whole for the first time in his life, and that brought a rush of panic. Seeking to distract himself, he asked, “Why did you come?”

“You made me,” she muttered.

He laughed. “Not that making you come wasn’t wonderful. I meant why did you come to Dunia?”

“The IMEP assigned me here.”

“Lex.”

She heaved a sigh, which pressed her lovely breasts harder against him. “I’m a healer, Thane. It’s not a job or a career. It’s who I am. As much as my hair color or circulatory system. And I’m good at it.”

The vehemence in her voice took him aback. “I know you’re good. You’ve managed to set Dunia—if not the entire Central Alliance—on its ear. But you gave up an exalted position on N’yota for what amounts to an internship.”

She kept quiet for a moment. He could almost see her weighing her words.

“I need to use my gift as much as I need to eat or walk. I wasn’t using it on N’yota.”

“Talon never mentioned you stopped healing.”

She laughed and the bitterness in it hurt to hear. “Healers are rare in our population, only about five hundred of us total. We only work in two hospitals in the capitol, which has the highest concentration of healers. When we returned from Tmesis, I took the trials and advanced very quickly to become a high healer.”

“I know. Talon called me to brag when you passed each stage. He swelled with so much pride, you’d think he’d taken the trials.”

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“Rumors started in the medical community that I received the ranking because I am the Damaia’s sister-in-law. Soon, I’d show up to work only to discover the schedule had been changed, but no one had notified me. Then, on the nights I was on emergency call, there were no emergencies. That doesn’t happen. Not once, much less repeatedly.”

“They called someone else?”

“I discovered a rotating schedule four other healers set up to hijack my emergency cases.”

Having seen her work, the revelation stunned him. “Surely your record spoke for itself?”

“Facts are a weak weapon in fighting rumor.”

“Why didn’t you file a complaint? Isn’t there a body that governs healing?”

“There is, but healing has a foundation in trust. I couldn’t force them to trust me.”

“So you joined the IMEP.”

“At least here I can treat patients.”

“Why didn’t you explain this to your family?”

“Because they would have had two reactions. They would have been angry. All my brothers would have tried to ride to my rescue and wound up making matters worse.”

“And the second reaction?”

“Guilt. They would have felt guilty—especially Talon and Lia. So, I tried to hide it from them.”

“You failed miserably.”

She lifted her head to glare at him. “Thanks.”

“You need to tell them. They are worried about you. I’ve seen your brother in battle, but I’ve never seen him scared before.”

“I was trying to protect them.”

“Promise me you’ll explain.” At her hesitation, he added, “Either you tell them or I will.”

“Fine. I’ll tell them. You know for a fierce warrior, you’re a worse busybody than an old woman.”

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“We all have hidden depths.”

“Shouldn’t the fire have burned down by now?”

As a subject change, it lacked any semblance of smoothness, but he let it go. Discussing Talon made him uncomfortable. After all, he was lying naked with the man’s sister. “It’s a rei-moss fire. A small amount of rei moss will burn for days. It’s growing all over the mountain. Fortunately, I found some sheltered beneath an overhang. I’ll bring in more when I get water from the cistern so it can dry in case we are stuck here longer than anticipated.”

She turned her head towards the cave’s mouth. “Surely, it can’t keep raining like this.”

“It will rain like this for the next few months. Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s lunchtime.”

“How can you tell?” She sat up to look at the deluge. The blanket pooled at her waist, and the sight of Ilexa—hair mussed from sleep and passion—naked to the waist caused an abrupt physical change. He went from semiaroused to bellybutton high in a heartbeat. With effort, he focused on her question. “You can tell because instead of being pitch black outside, it’s pitch gray.”

She squinted her eyes, but her expression remained skeptical. “If you say so.”

“I also have an excellent internal clock,” he announced, pulling her back down. She shifted and her expression told him when she felt the evidence of desire. A wicked gleam entered her eyes. “Exactly how hungry are you?”

***

Twenty-eight hours later—if she believed Thane’s internal clock—they were packing up the mattress. It had been two days of nonstop lovemaking and fantasy fulfillment. Her body felt deliciously sore as she slipped into her dress for the first time in two days.

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They hadn’t discussed the future, and Ilexa found herself surprisingly uneasy and self-conscious. Seeking to fill the silence, she asked, “Should we look for Jakum?”

“No.” Thane scowled as he doused the fire. “There is only a brief break in the rain. We don’t have time to search for him.”

“Oh.” She worried her lower lip as she folded the blankets. Thane left to load the first pack in his transport as she shrank the mattress and finished packing the second. She sealed the pack and stood, smoothing the stiff material with her hands. The silk would never recover.

Dripping wet, Thane reappeared. She held out the towel she’d saved from the pack.

“Maybe you should add an umbrella to the survival packs.”

Thane had been scrubbing the water from his face when she made the suggestion. He lowered the towel enough to glare at her. “Thanks.”

She shrugged. “Just a thought.”

Thane eyed the pack beside her. “Did you leave a towel packed on top? You’ll need it when we reach the transport.”

“I did.” He’d only mentioned it seven times before carrying out the first pack. She watched as Thane glanced around the cave with a look that she’d almost call wistful. “Then it’s time to head out.”

Reluctant to leave their small haven, Ilexa couldn’t stop herself from stalling. “Are you sure we shouldn’t wait for the rain to let up a little?”

“We only have a brief window before the second wave hits.”

Ilexa studied the downpour dubiously. “I thought you said there’d be a break.”

Thane hoisted the pack onto his shoulder. “This is a break. Things are going to get much worse.”

“Your definition of ‘break’ is different from mine.”

“You get used to it.” He gestured towards the outside world. “Shall we?”

“If you say so.” Ilexa moved towards the cave’s mouth, but before she could step into the rain, Thane stopped her by placing a hand on her arm.

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“I think we should speak our vows as quickly as possible. We can have any type of ceremony you’d like later. I’m sure you’d enjoy a ceremony full of pomp on N’yota. We could take a trip somewhere afterwards.”

“What?”

He huffed an impatient breath. “Our marriage.”

“Marriage?”

Concern colored his face. “Are you feeling well? Of course, our marriage.”

When he laid a hand against her forehead, she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. “I don’t recall us discussing marriage.”

Thane’s brows lowered and thunder rolled behind those vivid blue eyes. He drew himself up, towering over her and invading her space. “You are Hakimu.”

“So?”

Fury pinched his features. “Members of our tribe do not casually share their bodies.”

Thalia’s lecture leapt to the forefront of her mind. Ilexa had been so focused on the bride stealing she’d forgotten the rules governing sexual behavior between tribe members. She blinked at him. In her life, she’d felt inadequate, confused, lost, slow and a slew of other emotions. She’d never felt stupid before. “I’m a daughter of N’yota temporarily adopted into the tribe and—”

“You are Hakimu. Do you believe I hold my honor so loosely as to dally within loopholes?”

“I’m not questioning your honor—”

“No?” He stepped so close that if he took a deep breath, he’d brush her chest with his. “Then you admit to agreeing to be my wife before I entered you?”

Are you sure? Decide now before I make you mine. Thane’s words took on an entirely different meaning in light of the present conversation. “That’s not what I thought you meant by—”

“What did you think I meant, Lex? That I’d use you? That I’d betray my tribe? That I’d betray your brother?”

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“No! ” One thing she’d never doubt was Thane’s honor. She swallowed. No, she’d never doubt Thane. But did that mean he’d given in to the electricity between them and would sacrifice his future and fall on his sword? Or had he wanted her for his wife and been unable to wait. “Why?”

“Why?” A touch of confusion wrinkled his brow.

“Yes, why?”

“Ilexa, we don’t have time for me to soothe whatever feminine feathers I’ve ruffled. Just agree so we can go.”

In his response, she heard avoidance and her heart sank. Hope that she’d been unwilling to admit to herself withered in her chest. Thane would do his duty no matter what. She refused to allow him to do it—and she refused to settle for someone settling for her. “I’m not promising anything to avoid the rain.”

To emphasize her point she stomped out of the cave. Three meters later she stopped. Nothing ruined a great exit like getting lost.

***

Thane scowled at Ilexa’s rigid back as she preceded him into the great hall. The stubborn woman had refused to speak to him after storming out of their cave. After ten minutes in the transport, he’d acquiesced to her silence, but only because it was a matter of keeping them alive. He’d focused all his attention on returning them to the keep in one piece.

When they arrived, the Malkia and Rhys stood in the great hall trying to calm Creary and Rhyna who argued loudly for permission to send their warriors after Ilexa. Liken leant silent support to their argument standing behind them with his arms crossed.

“I will retrieve Ilexa Dhakir.” The rumbling voice of an offworlder silenced the debate.

Amusement coursed through Thane, momentarily eclipsing his shock at seeing the Inderian standing opposite the suddenly quiet Quixivon tribe members.

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Vardin faced the citizens of the Central Alliance with his fangs fully extended and fiery red eyes gleaming. Inderians were the fiercest warriors in the League, though few ever left their homeworld. Rumors of cannibalism and ritual sacrifice ran rife, fueled by the beastlike stature of the Motherland’s children. No one crossed an Inderian, and only the foolish failed to give them a wide berth.

“Vardin?” Ilexa’s surprised gasp drew all eyes to her. Ignoring them, she repeated with an excited yell. “Vardin!”

Thane grabbed at her, but wound up clutching empty air as she hurled herself towards a man the civilized worlds considered a barbarian. Vardin caught her in a bear hug, swinging her off her feet. His nostrils flared and Thane knew the Inderian had scented him all over her. Vardin looked at Thane who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Vardin returned an equally perceptible nod, conveying he would remain silent.

“What are you doing here?” Ilexa asked as Thane moved to join them. “Did Talon send you to check on me?” The suspicious gaze she leveled on Vardin still held the warmth of her affection for the fierce warrior.

“Vardin.” Thane greeted the man, arm extended. Vardin grasped his forearm and they shared the arm clasp Inderian culture reserved for brothers and brothers-in-arms.

“Welcome to Dunia.”

“It is good to see you.”

The Quixivon delegation tensed at Vardin’s expression. Thane couldn’t blame them. He’d forgotten how frightening Inderian grins were.

“Oh no you don’t,” Ilexa cut in. “You aren’t avoiding my question.”

Thane smiled. He couldn’t help it. She looked so fierce trying to defend her independence.

This time the Malkia saved Vardin. “Ilexa, Thane, I’m pleased to see you safely returned.”

A blush stained Ilexa’s cheeks. “Thank you, Malkia. Please forgive my rudeness. I was excited to see such a close family friend.”

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“That is understandable.”

“Forgive my rudeness, as well,” Rhyna spoke from her husband’s side. Literally. She’d pressed herself so tight against him they’d need a crowbar to pry her free. “With Ilexa safely returned, we’ll need to leave as soon as possible to avoid the rains. I’d like Ilexa to look at Zavian again.”

“We’ll go now. Where is he?” Ilexa’s tone dared anyone to contradict her.

“Quatres took him to medical to run scans so you could see them when you returned.”

Ilexa nodded. “If everyone will excuse us?”

“Of course,” the Malkia agreed.

Rhyna backed cautiously away from her husband. Apparently her baby worked as well as a crowbar.

Ilexa hesitated and glanced at Vardin. “Will you be staying?”

“Just overnight.”

“The rains—”

“I piloted a shuttle craft down. The rains are not an issue.”

The stab of jealousy surprised Thane when she smiled warmly at Vardin and said with enthusiasm, “Wonderful. I can’t wait to catch up.”

Vardin awarded her a bow and she led a nerve-wracked Rhyna towards medical.

“I’m glad to see her returned safely, but confess I’d looked forward to rescuing her.”

Creary’s cheerful, booming voice dragged Thane’s gaze away from Ilexa’s retreating back.

“And taking her to the Quixivon holding?” Thane felt no hostility towards the other man and the question lacked rancor. Such behavior would be expected by tribal tradition.

“Where else?” Laughter crinkled the man’s eyes and Thane marveled at the change in the man’s disposition.

Liken spoke for the first time. “We should prepare for departure so we can leave once Zavian’s exam is over.”

“You honored us by attending,” the Malkia replied.

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“You honored us with the invitation.” With the ritual parting words, Liken and Creary withdrew.

“How is Ilexa?”

Thane heard the question beneath the question the Malkia asked. Tradition prohibited forcing unwelcome attention on a stolen bride. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen. It had been his fear as well. He’d tasted terror as he chased after Ilexa. Aware of Vardin’s scrutiny he chose his response with caution. “Jakum crashed his speeder. She has bruising from the harness and a bump on her head. Otherwise, she’s unharmed.”

“And the man who took her?” Vardin growled.

“I left him with his speeder.” A cold smile curved Thane’s lips. “Conscious, but in the flood plain with no transportation.”

Rhys nodded. “His fate lies in the Deity’s hands.”

The Malkia placed her hand on Thane’s shoulder. “I’m pleased to have you both safely returned. You’ve done well.”

Such words came as high praise. He inclined his head in respectful acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

“We will let you clean up and reacquaint with your friend. I expect to see you and Ilexa at dinner.”

“We will be there.”

The Malkia and Rhys both nodded to Vardin before taking their leave. Thane shook his head and clapped Vardin on the back. “It’s good to see you my friend, but I need a shower and some clean clothes.”

Vardin had proved his friendship many times over and did so again by not asking any questions. Thane left him in the living area of his small apartment. Racing through his shower, he returned to find Vardin kneeling on the carpet with his eyes closed. Thane paused, but Vardin must have heard him enter because his eyes opened.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your meditation.”

Vardin rose to his feet with fluid grace. “You did not. I was just centering myself.”

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“I’m assuming Talon sent you to check on his little sister, but what brings you to this side of the galaxy?”

“Is our friend’s request not enough?”

Thane snorted. “Not even Talon would ask you to schlep to Dunia all the way from the Motherland.”

“I do not share your certainty of that, but you are correct. Another serious attempt on Lia’s life was narrowly averted. Talon does not wish to alarm his wife with the knowledge while she is heavy with his child. I understand she is experiencing some recent complications. I volunteered to return to N’yota to oversee her security for the duration of her pregnancy.”

Rage and worry bubbled in Thane’s blood. He’d grown to admire his friend’s wife when he’d helped rescue her from the Mining Guild—though Lia would dispute they

“rescued” her—and on the long trip to return her to the N’yotan people. Though he’d been appalled by the barbarity of an arranged marriage, Talon and Lia had managed to find happiness.

“Is it the religious extremists again?” he growled, focusing on the terrorists first.

“That is the banner around which they rally. However, N’yota’s peace and prosperity have eradicated the need for certain unsavory, albeit lucrative, activities. Individuals accustomed to such a life are seeking to restore their power base.”

Thane rolled his eyes. He knew his friend was practicing for dinner. Used to being viewed as a cannibalistic beast, Vardin enjoyed shocking humans with his communication skills. “So black market cartels are using religion to try and destroy the Damaia.”

Vardin inclined his head.

“And the complications?”

“Minor, but she requires more rest and is instructed to stay off her feet, lest things become serious.”

“Ilexa will worry.”

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“Now that you have finally made Ilexa yours, I leave the decision to tell her with you.”

Vardin’s statement caught him off-guard. He’d thought he’d hidden his attraction well. “I didn’t realize I was that obvious.”

“You were not, but some things are simply true.”

If he hadn’t spent years serving with Vardin, he’d never have understood that sentence. He’d learned that sometimes Vardin did “simply” know certain things. It wasn’t a precog ability, just an insight that went beyond logic and intuition. Thane didn’t like knowing Vardin’s gift included knowing his feelings about Ilexa. Or did Vardin speak of Ilexa’s feelings as well?

“Why don’t you tell her she belongs to me?”

Vardin threw back his head and laughed. “Oh no, my friend. Only a fool interferes in matters of love.”

Love? Thane felt the world pause as if holding its breath. Did he love Ilexa? He desired her. He enjoyed her company. He worried about her. She consumed his thoughts. But love? He considered it.

Fuck. He did love her.

The world released its breath as Thane’s life got very complicated. He needed to change the subject. “She won’t let her question go. She’ll badger you to admit Talon sent you. Then she’ll be mad at both of us on principle.”

“If you choose to tell her about the threat to Lia, Talon’s worry will be more palatable. If not, I will explain that I travel on business and stopping here allowed me to reassure Talon while visiting a brother-in-arms.”

Every cell in Thane’s body screamed for him to keep the truth from her. If she knew the threat to Lia had increased, she might feel the need to return to N’yota and offer support—worse—it might give her the excuse to run from him. If he didn’t tell her and she found out he’d known, she’d never forgive him. Plus, his conscience would eat at him. Ilexa deserved honesty from him. She would be his wife 126

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and he would not start their marriage off with deception. If she chose to leave, he’d go with her. Perhaps the time in a cramped, relatively small ship could be put to good use.

“I will tell her, but not at dinner. I think she should receive such news privately.”

And if he were going to be honest with her, there was something else she should know. Just thinking about broaching the subject made him swallow a groan…and consider leaving the planet so he could tell her from a safe distance.

“Very well.”

Thane gestured towards a chair. “Sit down, my friend. We have some time before dinner. Tell me, how are things in the Inderian Motherland?”

***

Ilexa’s hackles rose when she entered the great hall and saw the number of seats around Vardin empty despite his proximity to the Malkia. Though Thane sat at his side and Vardin was accustomed to such social shunning, Ilexa wanted to scream. Instead, she swept across the great hall with her head held high and kissed Vardin on the cheek before circling the table to take the seat across from him. She noted with snide amusement that the fearless warrior Karia sat nowhere near Thane despite the seat availability. The daggers in the woman’s eyes when Ilexa sat down caused a satisfied smile to curve her lips. That and the newfound realization that Karia had never shared Thane’s bed. Otherwise, he’d have married her. Vardin examined her with narrowed eyes before nodding. “You look well.”

She grinned. “So do you.”

Before the conversation could evolve past the greeting stage, Drea rushed up and skidded to a halt across from Ilexa worry tingeing her fine features.

“Are you hurt?” she breathed.

“Not a bit.” Ilexa hurried to reassure the still fragile woman—who didn’t appear to notice the Inderian beside her.

“Thank the Deity.” Drea’s posture wilted as her muscles visibly released tension.

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She couldn’t avoid introducing them. Manners demanded it. Vardin shifted to rise in anticipation of greeting Drea. Sending a silent prayer that Drea wouldn’t scream, she said, “Drea, may I present a close friend of mine, Vardin of the Inderian Motherland. Vardin, this is Drea.”

Drea blinked twice, but otherwise showed no outward surprise to the Inderian who rose to tower above her. “I’m pleased to meet any friend of Ilexa’s.”

“Would you join us for the meal?”

“I’d be delighted.”

Ilexa exchanged a relieved look with Thane and realized he’d been just as concerned for Drea as she had. As Vardin seated Drea, Ilexa glanced around the hall and noted the tribe’s reaction. No question Drea had elevated her standing in the tribe by joining the Inderian for dinner. From the women whispering to each other and sending furtive looks toward Karia, Ilexa surmised Karia’s reputation had suffered. That suited Ilexa just fine. Vardin reseated himself, and Ilexa pinned him with her gaze. “So how did Big Brother convince you to traverse the galaxy to check on me?”

“I am in this part of the galaxy on business. Talon asked if I could stop on Dunia. Doing so allowed me to ease his worry while visiting a brother-in-arms I have not seen in two years.” Vardin shrugged. “Surely you do not begrudge us such a small thing.”

She opened her mouth to blast Vardin—she wasn’t buying his “aw shucks”

explanation—but Drea spoke first.

“Talon is your brother?”

Ilexa swallowed her hot retort and forced a smile. “I have five older brothers, which proves the gods are cruel. Talon is the eldest and the one known as Big Brother.”

“He’s just worried about his family,” Thane interjected, but she heard the censure in his voice.

“He doesn’t seem to worry about Mal or Dante or Bastian—well, maybe Bastian.”

“He understands Malachi, Dante and Tristan. He knows what motivates them and how they will react when provoked. You and Bastian are variables he cannot predict.”

“How lovely. My brother considers me a variable he needs to predict.”

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Thane shook his head. “You are trying to pick a fight. I won’t accommodate you.”

Drea fluttered her hands and appeared near tears. “Let’s not fight.”

Vardin placed a gentle, albeit clawed hand on Drea’s shoulder. “Of course no one is going to fight. Talon is brother to Thane and I, which gives us license to tease his sister in his stead.”

Ilexa swallowed the response that had sprung to her lips. She wouldn’t upset Drea and risk crushing the beautiful spirit slowly emerging from its cocoon. It took effort, but she managed a smile for the worried woman. “With five brothers, I’ve learned to come out fighting or get trampled by their good intentions.”

Thane leaned around Vardin to meet Drea’s eyes. “Just wait until we start meddling in your life.”

That made Drea laugh and Ilexa could have kissed Thane for it.

“I don’t have much life for you to meddle with.”

“You will,” Ilexa predicted. “And trust me, they will make you want to scream.”

The meal passed in amiable banter until Ilexa’s personal timepiece chimed. “I’m afraid I have to check in with Big Brother.”

“I’ll escort you.” Thane rose and fixed her with a look that cut off any argument that she might make.

After graciously excusing themselves, Thane led her to the door of the communications room, where he pressed her against the wall and kissed her into oblivion.

It took more effort than she would ever admit to pull away. “I have to call home.”

“It can wait.”

She dodged the kiss he aimed at her. “It can’t. One of Talon’s spies reported my kidnapping. You wouldn’t believe the messages he’s been leaving. If I don’t check in, he might stage an invasion.”

Thane traced the curve of her cheekbone and stared into her eyes. “We need to talk.”

“We’ve talked.” She didn’t even try to keep the anger and bitterness from her tone.

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He shook his head. “There are a couple of things I need to tell you.” His eyes hardened. “As for our earlier conversation…we aren’t done talking. Not by a long shot.”

“Thane—”

He pushed away from her. “Call your family. I’ll stop by your room later.”

She watched him walk away, his purposeful stride carrying him down the hall. She appreciated the view of his tight ass flexing as he moved, and her insides clenched with desire at the thought of caressing that ass. Lying to herself never got her anywhere, so she admitted she was looking forward to “later”—and this time “later” would include a real bed.

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Chapter Eleven

Thane rapped once on Ilexa’s door and let himself into her room only to draw up short. She sat cross-legged on the floor with Quatres. Their knees and foreheads touched with hands resting on each other’s shoulders.

He didn’t remember moving, but found himself across the room holding Quatres to the wall by the throat with one hand. The boom behind him indicated he’d slammed the door in his charge to rip the medic from Ilexa.

Thane bared his teeth at the gurgling man. Before he could rip the man’s head from his shoulders, Ilexa wormed her way between them.

“Have you lost your mind?” She shoved ineffectually at his chest. “Put him down.”

“He was touching you.”

She didn’t appear impressed by his fury. “I was touching him.”

His blood pressure rose even higher at her admission. “There’s going to be nothing left for you to touch.”

Quatres gurgled again, but made no attempt to struggle.

“I’m a healer. Touch is important.”

A thin blade of reason edged his rage, enough to loosen his grip and allow the man to breath. “Then why aren’t you in medical?”

“This is something Quatres isn’t ready to make known.”

Shit. “Perhaps I’ve overreacted.”

“Perhaps? Perhaps? ” If not for the rains, her shriek would have altered the migratory path of local birds.

“Lex—”

“Put my friend down.”

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Friend? He realized he still held Quatres by the throat. Oh yeah. He lowered the medic to the ground and watched him crumple to the floor. Ilexa knelt next to him and began to straighten his sprawled limbs. “Quatres?”

“I didn’t hold him long enough for him to be unconscious.”

“He wasn’t conscious when you grabbed him.” Ilexa’s silver eyes held shards of ice when she glared at him.

“He was touching you.” The Deity himself couldn’t have stopped Thane from growling at her.

Ilexa sat at Quatres’s head and cradled it in her lap. “He was in a healing trance.”

Thane held himself in check, managing to not rip the unconscious man away from Ilexa. “Healing trance?”

Ilexa smoothed the hair from the young man’s forehead, seeming oblivious to Thane’s rage. “I think Quatres may have the gift of healing. If so, he’s the first offworlder blessed with it. He came to see me tonight— finally willing to give it a try. I wasn’t about to put him off.”

“And this is a secret?”

“If Quatres is a healer, he can’t be a warrior. If he embraces the gift, he’s afraid he’ll no longer be Hakimu, because he won’t be able to fight or train.”

Understanding and something akin to guilt burned in Thane’s chest. “I see.”

“Then you’ll keep his secret?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Be quiet and let me heal and wake him.”

“Heal⎯?”

“Be quiet, Thane.”

He shut up. Ilexa’s eyes unfocused and took on that strange, healing glow as he watched. After a minute, Quatres came awake and jolted up, coughing and sputtering.

“Easy,” Ilexa soothed.

“What happened?” Quatres looked around with a bleary expression until his eyes came to rest on Thane and fear crept across his face. 132

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Ilexa shifted so that she faced the medic, drawing his attention. “You did it. You achieved a healing state.” She shot a glare at Thane. “We were interrupted before I could ascertain your level, but it seems high enough to train as a full healer.”

Quatres glanced at Thane and showed self-preservation by inching away from Ilexa.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, but let’s try this again without interruption. Tomorrow after lunch?”

“And if I am a healer?”

“If you want to pursue your gift, it would be best if you went to N’yota to train.”

“You can’t train me here?”

“I could.” Reluctance lined her face. “But you’ll learn more working with other students than you ever would from a teacher.”

Quatres rose and nodded to Thane. “This doesn’t mean I’ve made a decision.”

“Of course not,” Ilexa reassured him. “But there is nothing wrong with exploring all your options.”

Quatres hesitated.

“Thane won’t say anything.”

“Not a word,” he concurred when Ilexa shot him a warning look. Quatres left without saying anything else.

“He seems well,” Thane mused.

Ilexa rounded on him. “No thanks to you. Would you care to explain yourself?”

Thane saw the lack of satisfactory explanations in his arsenal. He went straight to groveling. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“Yes, you did.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “What were you thinking?”

Oh no. He wasn’t dumb enough to answer that one. “I saw another man’s hands on my wife and didn’t stop to think. I apologize.”

She opened and closed her mouth several times before she managed, “I’m not your wife.”

“You are. You just lack the ceremony to believe it.”

“You are unbelievable!”

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“Not at all. I have no trouble believing you are mine.”

She glared at him for a silent moment before grinding, “Get out.”

“No.” He sat comfortably on the bed. “We need to talk.”

“We’ve already had this talk.”

“Did you speak to Talon?”

“No, Lia.” She eyed him with suspicion.

“So she told you about the complications?”

“She told me she’s supposed to stay off her feet, but isn’t quite on bed rest.”

“There’s more.”

Ilexa moved to sit beside him. “You mean the increased threat to her life?”

“How did you know?”

Ilexa rolled her eyes at him. “Lia told me. She’s not stupid.”

“Talon doesn’t want her to know.”

“She knows he doesn’t want her to know. That’s why she’s not letting him know that she knows what he doesn’t want her to know.”

“What?” She’d lost him.

“Talon feels better if he thinks he’s keeping this from Lia. So she’s letting him believe it.”

“Security could be tighter if Talon knew she—”

“Thane, it’s not up to us to tell him.”

That was debatable, but Ilexa looked so serious he swallowed his protest. “There’s something else we need to discuss.”

“I can’t wait to hear this.”

He met her eyes and resisted clearing his throat. He couldn’t believe how embarrassed he suddenly felt. “Something occurred to me on the trip back to the keep.”

She raised her brows. “Really?”

“Lex, who’s primarily responsible for birth control on N’yota? The man or the woman.”

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“The man. It’s easier and less damaging to the body to kill sperm in the—” She cut herself off and faced Thane with wide, alarmed eyes.

“In the military, birth control is universal. There’s something in the food that works on men and something in the drink that works on women. On Dunia, women have always held the responsibility for birth control. It’s something I didn’t think about before.”

Ilexa remained silent for a moment, and Thane found himself proud of her for taking the news so well. Then she shifted—and fell off the bed.

“Lex—?” Her fist cut off his concerned question. He rocked back on the mattress, but recovered in time to catch the next fist she threw at him again. “What the hell?”

“I am going to kill you,” she thundered, leaping up from the floor. It took no effort for him to catch her around the waist and flip her onto the bed. In less than a second, he had her pinned snugly beneath him. He ignored the pleasure her wriggling caused, “I thought healers couldn’t do violence.”

“This isn’t violence. This is anger.”

“So a temper tantrum isn’t violence?”

“I am not having a temper tantrum.”

“Oh? What would you call it?”

She glowered at him. “I can’t believe you didn’t mention this to me!”

“I’m mentioning it to you now.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned it before?”

“I didn’t think about it until we were on our way back. You weren’t speaking to me then.”

“You couldn’t have thought of it earlier?”

“You didn’t think of it either,” he pointed out in a reasonable tone.

“Prophetess! This is not happening.” Ilexa stopped struggling underneath him, and her head fell back, eyes closed in despair.

Now he was offended. “Carrying my child is hardly the end of civilization.”

Her eyes snapped back open. “Do you want me to be carrying your child?”

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“I’d rather you be married to me first, so your brother doesn’t kill me, but yes, I want you to be carrying my child. I’ve thought of little else since the possibility occurred to me.”

Her mouth fell open, but no words came out.

“You can’t heal yourself, but would you be able to sense if you are pregnant?”

She shook her head.

“Then tomorrow, you can run a pregnancy test in while you’re at work.” He smiled wickedly at her. “Tonight, we’ll just have to do things that won’t get you pregnant. Tomorrow we’ll use birth control, at least until you are ready.”

He started to lower his mouth to hers, intending the kiss to be passionate enough to ignite an evening of inventive passion. He’d put some serious thought into the night’s activities, but the panic on her face threw his plans out the window. Calming her fear became the most important thing in his life. “Ilexa, do you want to go to medical now?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He shoved his upper body away from her. “We’ll go now.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I don’t want you worrying about this.”

She wrapped her arms around his lower back. “I’ll worry, but the test will still be in there in the morning.”

He furrowed his brow in concern. “I don’t want you worrying.”

“Then maybe you should distract me.”

Beneath the worry, he saw a silver spark of desire in her eyes. He captured her mouth with his, before she could change her mind.

***

She turned the corridor to medical and saw Thane pacing outside the main entrance, worrying his lower lip. Her face flushed with heat as memories of what he’d done to her with those lips during the previous night flooded her mind. He caught sight of her, and she knew he saw her blush when his expression became cocky. 136

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“What are you doing here?” she asked.

His brow lowered. “I’m here to hold your hand.”

Her heart turned over. “That’s sweet of you, but I’ll need my hands to run the test.”

“I’m still going with you.”

He sounded defensive, and for some reason she’d never understand, she found that touching. “Fine. I’ve been using the closet we were keeping Zavian in as my office,” she explained as she led him towards the small space she’d claimed as her own. His large hand closed around her biceps. “Slow down. It’s not a race, and you are attracting attention.”

She breathed deeply and measured her pace. After an eternity, she reached the closet and shut herself and Thane inside.

“They are going to be wondering what you are doing in here with me,” she realized. Thane snorted a laugh. “They won’t ask. Aren’t you medical people discreet?”

“Discreet? Yes. Nosy? Hells yes,” she grumbled, turning to pull a small kit off the shelf behind her.

To her everlasting embarrassment, her hands shook as she tried to open the sample kit. A sharp rap on the door startled her. She shrieked and jumped, sending the kit flying into the air. Thane caught it with one hand and dropped the other onto her shoulder and squeezed.

“Come in.”

Quatres poked his head around the door and slipped in. He locked it behind himself and held out his hand. “I’ll run the test.”

“Test? What test?” Was her voice always so high and squeaky?

Thane pulled the hand holding the kit from behind his back and deposited it in Quatres’s palm. “I think our secret’s out.”

Quatres grinned. “It wasn’t hard to guess after last night. Everyone else thinks you are being treated for a bravani sting you received rescuing Ilexa. Given the location of the sting, she’s treating you in private to spare your pride.”

Ilexa breathed a relieved sigh. “Thanks, Quatres.”

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“What are friends for?” he asked cheerfully as he stabbed the side of her finger.

“Ouch!”

“You can’t just do a scan?” Thane asked curiously, leaning over to study the blood sample Quatres collected.

“Too soon. The blood test for hormonal changes will be more accurate,” Ilexa explained, putting her bleeding finger to her mouth. Quatres added two drops of clear liquid to the test strip, and Ilexa’s breath caught in her throat. The strip turned green. She met the medic’s sympathetic gaze and didn’t even try to stop the tears from brimming.

“What? What does green mean?” Thane asked, a hint of alarm in his voice. Tears scalded Ilexa’s face, leaving cold paths in their wake. “I’m not pregnant.”

Thane wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his chest while Quatres patted her shoulder awkwardly from behind.

When her tears turned to sniffles, Quatres asked, “Do you want birth control?”

She nodded into Thane’s chest and listened to Quatres moving around.

“Arm?”

She nodded again. Quatres pushed up her sleeve and the injection stung the flesh above her elbow.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Quatres said, and she heard the click of the lock followed by the door opening and closing.

Thane wrapped his arms tighter around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. Rocking her gently, he asked,” Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

And he just held her.

***

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Thane was waiting outside her door after her session with Quatres. He walked with the medic partway down the corridor speaking in tones too low for her to hear, before turning and striding purposefully back to her room.

Karia opened her own door and stepped out to waylay Thane, resting a slim hand in the center of his chest. “Hello, my dear,” she purred, shooting Ilexa a triumphant look out of the corner of her eye. “Did you come to escort me to lunch?”

Gods help her, Ilexa didn’t mean to laugh but Karia’s behavior was so over the top, she couldn’t stop herself. The woman’s expression showed her loathing and Ilexa quickly ducked back into her room, knowing as she did so it was too late to hide her amusement. She was resting her back against the closed door trying to snuffle her laughter when the door flung open, sending her sprawling onto the floor. Thane closed the door and turned an annoyed expression on her.

“That wasn’t wise.”

“I couldn’t help it,” she said between giggles.

“Karia is a powerful warrior, and not someone you want as an enemy.” He frowned.

“I didn’t like the look on her face when you laughed.”

She found his concern adorable, and it brought another round of laughter. He extended his hand and she let him pull her to her feet. Getting a grip on her laughter, she asked, “What brings you by? Aren’t you supposed to be out hacking at someone with a sword or yelling at other people who are hacking at someone with swords?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment at her meltdown that morning. Especially since she couldn’t understand why she had been so upset. To his credit, Thane had said nothing further about wanting a child. He clearly wanted her to handle it in her own way and put no pressure on her. He’d even made her apologies to Vardin when he saw the Inderian off so she didn’t have to say goodbye.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, but ducked her head shyly. Desperate to fill the awkward silence, she asked, “What did you say to Quatres?”

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If Thane heard the nerves in her voice, he ignored them “I asked about the healer testing. He seemed a little stunned.”

“He’s got a strong gift. I think he’ll find it lies with pain management and comfort, perhaps some system strengthening.”

“Not everything, huh? So you’re still our only healing prodigy?” Thane teased.

“He’s got it in him to be a mid-level healer, Thane. That’s a real gift, but he’s conflicted. He can’t embrace healing and be a warrior. True violence impedes our healing.”

Thane pulled her into a hug. “I also told Quatres he was excused from training while he makes his decision.”

Damn it. There he went again, reminding her why she loved him. And had loved him since she was a girl. Could she make him love her? And could she survive if she couldn’t?

Thrusting away the heart-wrenching questions, she said, “I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“It would help if we could establish guidelines. A list of things he could and couldn’t do as a healer.”

She pushed free to pace. Her mind consumed with worry for Quatres. “That’s the problem. There isn’t a checklist. The goddess seems to handle each healer differently. I’ve clobbered most of my brothers without a problem—”

“Most?”

“Talon is too dignified to ‘clobber’. Him I hit.”

Thane laughed and settled onto her bed, one ankle hooked over his knee. “I’ve given into the urge and ‘clobbered’ Talon a time or two.”

Ilexa smiled, and when Thane patted the bed beside him, she joined him, snuggling into his side. “Good to know someone kept him in line while he served the League.”

“He had no problem keeping me in line, too,” Thane confessed. She laughed again before sobering. “The point I was trying to make is I’ve hit my brothers with impunity, but I know one healer who slapped someone and suddenly her 140

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gift was gone. I do know in all the instances of healers physically defending a patient, the goddess has never punished the healer.”

“Then perhaps Quatres can train, but not fight. That would go a long way towards making things easier on him.”

“Perhaps,” she hedged. “Remember, Quatres believes in your Deity, not the N’yotan pantheon. This is uncharted territory all the way around.”

Concern tightened Thane’s eyes. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“You hit me. Will that affect your healing?”

“Nope.”

“How do you know?”

She hesitated. How to explain? Faith remained a nebulous area in the universe, but she knew Havilla’s limitations for her own healing gift. Explaining it however, was something else. “I just do. Thane, I’d let someone kill me before I’d jeopardize my gift.”

There was a pregnant pause. “That’s what frightens me.”

She placed a hand on his biceps—the gods must have hewn his arm from granite.

“Thane—”

He gave himself a shake and pointedly looked at his chronometer. “I need to go.”

“Of course.” She pulled back, trying to not be hurt.

“My father returns today. We will share a private dinner. I would like it if you joined us.”

“The Intertribal Council has recessed?”

“Yes. Senators are returning home to wait out the rains.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Senators walk from the shuttleport. It shows their strength, and in truth is safer than speeders.”

“Oh.”

“Will you?”

“Will I what?”

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“Join us for dinner?” He ground his teeth so hard Ilexa feared they’d break.

“I didn’t know you cooked.”

“Ilexa.”

“Sorry,” she laughed. “I’d be delighted.”

Thane beamed at her and pressed her to the mattress with the passion of his kiss. When he lifted his head, she was wet and achy, but he evaded her attempts to grab him and pull him back down.

He rose and crossed to her door. “I’ll see you in my quarters at seven?”

She struggled to sit up. “Seven.”

“And Lex, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“My father. He’s a real bastard.”

“Thane—”

“Not all of us have loving families, but whatever he says or does changes nothing between us.”

With that, Thane was gone, leaving her staring at the wooden door in bemusement.

***

Thane’s palms actually slipped on the doorknob when he opened the door to Ilexa’s knock. Surreptitiously, he wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers and accepted the bottle of wine she extended. “Thank you.”

She smiled. “I brought this with me from N’yota. I hope red is all right?”

The nervous glint in her eye swept his worry aside. He wanted her comfortable in his home—of course, once she married him, he’d request larger quarters in the family section of the keep—but for now he wanted her relaxed and thinking of him in homey ways. Unable to resist, he brushed her lips with his own. “Red is perfect.”

She smiled again, and he snaked an arm around her waist, and swung her into his living area.

“Thane—” she whispered a warning.

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He ignored it. “Father, may I present Ilexa Dhakir, my ahali.”

“What in all the worlds does ahali mean?” she demanded under her breath. A tall lean man stepped forward to appraise the woman he held. Cold eyes the color of charcoal swept over her and Thane had to fight the urge to shield her with his body.

“Ilexa, may I present my father Nytham Msaka.”

She turned that beautiful smile to his father and extended her hand. “I see where Thane gets his good looks.”

Nytham ignored the proffered hand and flared his nostrils in disdain. “I understand you have no warrior in you.”

“Father…” He ground out.

“I’m a healer, sir.” Ilexa squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Thane felt a surge of pride at the backbone she displayed.

“Let’s get this farce of a meal over with.” Nytham stalked to the table set in an alcove and sat down in a chair. “At least you spared me the humiliation of having to dine with her in public.”

Fury blinded Thane for a moment. He’d known his father would not be pleased he’d bucked tradition and chosen an offworlder over a warrior, but he hadn’t anticipated such virulent hatred. “You will not insult Ilexa. Apologize. Now.”

Ilexa’s fingers curled around his arm and she squeezed. The pressure surprised him enough to stop him from taking the menacing step towards his father.

“I’m not insulted,” Ilexa lied. “I don’t want to cause difficulty. Perhaps I should leave.”

“The hell you will,” Thane growled, not taking his eyes off Nytham. “I said apologize.”

“I will not. Thane think. What kind of weak sons will she bear you? She’s not Hakimu. Fuck her if you must, then send her home and find a strong warrior for a wife.”

In a flash, Thane suddenly understood his visceral opposition to Talon’s search for Lia. He’d helped his friend find his lost wife, but hadn’t kept his personal feelings on the matter quiet. He’d disdained Talon’s arranged marriage. Hated it as a matter of fact. But

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it wasn’t Talon’s arranged marriage he’d despised, but his own father’s attempt to find him a broodmare while sending him out to stud.

However, rage at the insult dealt Ilexa eclipsed his fury at his father’s machinations and left him momentarily speechless.

In the charged, rage-filled pause, Nytham added, “Deity. You haven’t gotten the bitch pregnant have you?”

Thane snarled and started to launch himself at the cold son of a bitch who’d sired him, but Ilexa flung her arms around his neck and dangled against him.

“Let go.” The words came out so soft and dangerous Ilexa flinched, but valiantly held her grip.

“No. Both of you stop this.”

“You dare give me orders?” Nytham roared.

“I dare.” Ilexa twisted to glare at his father, but didn’t release him. “And for the record, not only am I Hakimu, I’m head of my own family, an honor granted me by the Malkia.”

Thane had the satisfaction of seeing his father’s mouth fall open.

“And your son is too honorable to get a Hakimu woman pregnant without marriage.”

He had to hand it to Ilexa, she met his father’s eyes when she baldly lied to the man. Still, his hands clenched and unclenched with the rhythmic need to wrap them around his father’s neck. “Ilexa, let go.”

“No.” She didn’t take her eyes off Nytham. “You don’t have to like me sir, but Thane deserves a basic level of courtesy in his own home.”

“You dare to dictate to me?” Nytham repeated, clearly stunned by Ilexa’s demands.

“I do.”

“While you hang on my son’s neck like a coward?”

“While I hang on your son’s neck to save your miserable life.”

“I don’t like you.”

“I actually figured that out on my own.”

“I want you out of his life.”

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“I got that, too.”

Thane wondered if his father heard the ribbon of amusement in her voice. Nytham rose. “I will leave, but I am home now and I will find a way to cut you from my son’s life like the cancer you are. You will not mother the next generation of Msaka men.”

With those ominous words, Nytham slammed from Thane’s home.

“I’m tempted to marry you just to spite him.”

Thane supposed he should be ashamed of the fact he’d let her, but he’d have for his wife no matter how he had to obtain her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he clutched her to him before it could occur to her to let go. “I’m sorry. I knew he’d be displeased, but I didn’t know it would be this bad.”

“Maybe you should go after him. Talk to him.”

“No.” He tried to soften his refusal. “I’d rather have dinner with you.”

“Thane, he’s your father. You should talk to him.”

He tried to lighten the mood. “No. Unless you want to punch him, too.”

“No. Hitting him would cost me my gift.” Her voice held such conviction, he didn’t doubt it.

She studied him. “What does ahali mean?”

“Fiancée.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t exactly true either.

“Thane, I haven’t agreed to marry you.”

Raw from the confrontation with his father, he lashed out. “Are you suggesting I should take my father’s advice and just fuck you like a convenience and then send you away?”

Her eyes clouded and her arms fell from his neck. She stepped back, and with reluctance he let her go.

“He’s really hurt you,” she said quietly and retrieved the bottle of wine he didn’t remember dropping.

“Lex…” The right words to apologize hovered just out of his mind’s reach.

“It’s okay, Thane. Let’s eat dinner. I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.”

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A few hours later, after dinner and sharing the comfort of their bodies, Ilexa stirred beneath him.

“I should go.”

“Stay.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to give your father any more ammunition.”

“We’ll go to the Malkia and have her marry us now.”

“Thane.”

The exasperation in her voice grated his nerves. “You know you are going to marry me, otherwise you wouldn’t be lying here. Why are you putting it off? Putting me off?”

For a brief moment, he thought she would tell him.

“I need to go.”

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Chapter Twelve

It didn’t take long for word of the estrangement between Thane and Nytham to make its way around the keep or for people to surmise its cause. A knock on the closet door drew her from her worry. “Come in.”

Quatres appeared and settled on the stool across from her. “You doing okay?”

She forced a smile. “I am. You?”

“I suppose I should say yes, but that would make two liars in such a small space.”

She ignored the fact he’d called her on the lie. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have broached the possibility of you being a healer.”

“No. You didn’t have the right to keep it from me.”

“That’s how I would have felt. Still, I feel bad for burdening you.”

“It’s a harder decision than I anticipated,” he admitted.

“You look tired.”

“I’m not sleeping.” He hesitated. “How do you handle it?”

“It?”

“The tribe. Don’t you feel isolated?”

Ilexa mulled that over. “A little, but a lot of that comes from being an outsider, and I’m starting to find my place. I’m making friends in medical and others are warming up to me. If nothing else, the tribe is becoming accustomed to my being here.”

“A few of the old women still call you a witch.”

That prompted a laugh. “Old women need something to gossip about. I’m happy to provide the entertainment.”

Quatres smiled. “You saying I’ll have an easy time of it?”

She sobered. “No. I’m not. People hate change and things that are outside their own experiences, but you have a support system. Friends, family, colleagues.”

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“I suppose that’s true.”

“Some are going to hate you for walking a different path, but it’s your path to walk. Have you talked to anyone? Your family? The Malkia?”

Quatres’s eyes became as wide as saucers. “I couldn’t bother the Malkia with my problems.”

Ilexa waved a dismissive hand. “She loves her tribe.” Memories of the Malkia’s anger—and hurt—at Drea’s suffering had her adding, “I think the Malkia wishes more of her tribe would let her help them.”

“I’m not sure I’m strong enough to be a healer.”

She knew he didn’t refer to the strength of his healing gift. “It’s a difficult path for you. Perhaps you should visit N’yota and counsel with some of our teachers.”

Quatres consider that. “I’ll think about it.”

“Talk to the Malkia first,” Ilexa entreated, knowing the woman’s support could make all the difference to him.

“Maybe,” he hedged. “I’m sorry Nytham is causing you such headache. I’d expected Thane to have proposed by now.”

It took a second for her mind to make the topic change and her cheeks to heat with embarrassment. Quatres believed Thane had thrown her over because of his father. The sympathy in the medic’s eyes made her confess. “I can’t accept it. Things were complicated before, but with his father’s disapproval…”

“Thane? You’ve turned down Thane?” Shock born of hero worship shone in his eyes.

“I haven’t exactly turned him down.” At least not in any way I know he’d truly accept.

“So you are just stringing him along?”

The appalled look on his face struck her in the gut. “I’m not stringing him along. I can’t say yes. I can’t be his ahali.”

Quatres sucked in a breath large enough to decompress an airlock. “He called you ahali.”

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Ilexa narrowed her eyes. “It doesn’t mean fiancée does it?”

“Sort of.” But he shook his head. “Thane has declared himself your husband, claimed you as his wife. Even if you refuse him and leave or marry someone else, you will still have his commitment. Such a declaration can’t be erased. Thane is yours until death—either his or yours.”

Ilexa rocketed to her feet. “That son of a bitch.”

Ignoring her outrage, Quatres continued. “He bound himself to you. Not doing the same is cruel beyond measure.”

She was going to kill him.

***

Thane lowered his weapon and berated the warrior on the ground before him. “This is not a holovid where dancing and acrobatics matter. It’s a two handed sword that means keeping both hands on the weapon and not twirling it like a school girl’s baton.”

Kavin panted with humiliation but didn’t rise from the ground. He couldn’t even meet Thane’s eyes. Thane knew the younger man had been showing off for the women watching the training and the ease at which he’d been disarmed shamed him. Still, Thane couldn’t muster any sympathy. Kavin shouldn’t have been showing off like a trainee. The silence around them drew his attention. Warriors stood frozen in place, some with weapons poised above their heads, while others had cast their weapons to the ground.

And hurtling through the throng was a vision in a blue unitard. It took a moment for him to realize what had happened. Then it clicked. Ilexa had rushed into the covered arena with no thought to the men wielding sharp objects. For a long minute his heart stopped, then began to beat triple time. He leapt over Kavin, charged forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Have you lost your damned mind?”

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The woman didn’t have the sense to look chastened. Instead she shot back, “Want to explain ahali to me? Are you going to try and sell me that crock about it meaning fiancée again?”

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“No, but I’m going to kill you.”

He shook her, and because it felt so good, he shook her again. “Did you not notice that my men are training with weapons—real weapons? These aren’t holographic training tools.”

Her mouth fell open and she glanced around at the warriors staring at her. A heartbeat later she squared her shoulders and turned her furious gaze back on him, clearly dismissing the risk she’d taken. “You were going to explain ahali to me.”

He was going to throttle her. But the shocked breaths drawn almost in unison reminded him of their audience and he magnanimously decided to let her live. However, they had given his men enough of a show. He released one of her shoulders and used his grip on the other to haul her away from the arena—and didn’t stop until the reached her room.

He slammed the door behind him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Me? You’re the one who entered into a one-way marriage.”

“The hell I did. I just had the courage to make a declaration, to behave with honor while I wait for you to stop dragging your feet.”

She snarled at him. “Are you saying I have no honor and no courage?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” He shoved a hand through his hair, dislodging it from the queue at the nape of his neck. “Damn it Ilexa stop twisting my words around.”

“I’m not twisting your words. I’m trying to understand.” She pulled away and began to pace. “You married me.”

“No, I didn’t. I would never take your choice from you.”

“So if I refuse to marry you, you’ll find someone else?”

“No.”

“No because you won’t or because you can’t?”

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“This doesn’t matter. You won’t refuse me.”

“What is an ahali?”

“Obviously someone already told you.”

“I want you to tell me.”

He sighed and plopped into the chair. It wasn’t dignified for a warrior to plop, but exasperation made it impossible to do anything else. “Our tribal lands are large by any standard, but modern technology makes them easy to traverse. In ancient times it could take months or even years to do so. Traditionally only the Malkia or a tribal elder could perform a marriage ceremony.”

“And it could take a long time for a couple to see one,” Ilexa concluded.

“A man claiming a woman as his ahali and she claiming him as her waume became common practice. A marriage without the ceremony.”

“And if the woman didn’t claim him as waume?”

“She remained free while he was bound to her. Even if she married he was not free of his commitment.”

“And these laws are still in effect.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

A tear tracked its way down her cheek. “Damn you.”

Alarmed, he stood. “Ilexa?”

“You know I’d never leave anyone—let alone you—in such a position.” Another tear followed the first. “I’ll marry you.”

The expected sense of triumph didn’t fill him. Instead, he felt…sad? “Give me your word.”

“I just did.”

She sounded so indignant, he didn’t press the matter. He knew a kiss was the traditional way to seal the promise, but from her expression she’d rather kiss a gundar. Rocking on his feet like an awkward teen, he spoke. “What… How do you want to handle it?”

“Handle what?”

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“The wedding.”

“Does it matter?”

She looked so forlorn it should have prompted him to comfort her. Instead, it made him angry. “It matters.”

“Oh.”

The surprise in her eyes didn’t cool his temper. “I’m going to go place a call to Talon. We shouldn’t announce anything until I actually speak to him.”

“Fine.”

Now she sounded pissed. Good.

He shoved past her to the door. Pausing in the threshold, he couldn’t resist. He wanted to hurt her like he was hurting. Even if warriors shouldn’t “hurt” like an emotional teenage girl. “I’d appreciate it if you started behaving with a little more decorum. Your actions now reflect on me, and I shudder to think what additional havoc you could cause this tribe.”

Ilexa gasped and paled.

He had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes flare with pain before he slammed the door.

Before the guilt rose to choke him.

***

By the gods she wouldn’t cry. She’d skewer him, but she wouldn’t cry over him. Not again. She should have pointed out she could marry him without her brother’s consent. At the very least, she should have gone with him to face her family and make the announcement.

But she couldn’t. Not when he’d been so angry and she’d felt so hurt. Depression beat at her and she wanted nothing more than to curl up and hide. In all the years she’d known Thane, she’d never seen him so angry and never hateful. Why was he angry? He’d gotten what he wanted. Maybe he’d truly wanted her to refuse him. 152

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She dropped to the bed. In all her little-girl fantasies, Thane had come to N’yota and professed his undying love for her. He’d gotten to his knees and begged her to marry him. And they’d lived happily ever after.

When she’d seen him two years earlier, she’d discovered the childhood torch she’d carried still burned, but her new fantasies had a decidedly more adult content. He’d still only seen her as Talon’s kid sister, but that hadn’t kept her from dreaming. Now she was going to marry him and it devastated her. And she couldn’t say why. She’d resigned herself to a loveless marriage before leaving N’yota. Thane was actually the second fiancé she’d had. Of course, no one knew that because her first engagement hadn’t lasted three hours.

Jason had swept her off her feet and she’d naively handed him her heart. His proposal had come with flowers, candy, dancing and moonlight. They’d made passionate love and Ilexa had fallen asleep dreaming of a wonderful future. She’d awoken alone and padded down the hall in search of her fiancé.

He’d been conversing via link with his father. Assuring him that their family’s connection to the Damaia had been secured—and he’d make sure Ilexa didn’t learn about his mistress, the apparent love of his life.

She’d had the satisfaction of seeing his horror when she’d stepped fully into the room. She’d left without saying a word, wearing nothing but his bathrobe to the sound Jason’s father berating him for his “lack of caution”. She’d never said anything—and only Lia knew they’d been dating. Her sister-in-law never asked a question or made a single comment, but Jason and his social climbing family disappeared from palace invitation lists, and Ilexa had blessed Lia’s perceptiveness.

Jason had taught her a valuable lesson and she’d made a list of what she required in her future husband. Thane exceeded those requirements by far. She had found an honorable man who wasn’t interested in a connection to the Damaia. A man upon whom she could rely and trust to be faithful. A man who liked her and would love their children.

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A man who didn’t love her.

It wasn’t a requirement. It wasn’t even on her list. She didn’t know why the thought popped into her head. Strong marriages required more than fairy-tale love. She could live without love. She absolutely could. And if she made it her mantra she’d eventually believe it.

***

Thane came to dinner late. Ilexa believed he’d chosen to eschew the communal meal because of her. Not that she blamed him. If she’d had a kitchen, she’d have skipped the meal to avoid him.

That wasn’t true. The last time she’d tried cooking she’d set the kitchen on fire making soup. So—if she could cook and had a kitchen, she’d have skipped the meal. Drea had come for the first course but was leaving for a self-defense lesson when Thane arrived. He took the seat Drea vacated.

“Where’s she going?” He sounded surly.

“One of the women warriors is going to teach her self-defense. I hadn’t realized she wasn’t born Hakimu.” Shame burned her cheeks. She should have known that about her friend.

Thane frowned and looked over his shoulder at Drea’s retreating back. “I hadn’t realized that either. We should require brides from other tribes to undergo some level of training and put a support system in place for them.”

“That’s a good idea.” Ilexa’s lips twitched.

“What’s so amusing?”

She shrugged. “Brides from other tribes. It sounds like a lame song title.”

A smile ghosted his lips. “It does, doesn’t it?”

The tribe member assigned to serve their table placed plates before the couple. The seats immediately surrounding them were empty and Ilexa watched Thane take notice of that.

He turned back to her. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

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“Ask what?”

“What your brother said.”

“You spoke to him?” That surprised her. She’d expected it to take more time to actually pin her busy brother down.

“He gave his staff orders to put any communication from the Central Alliance through immediately.”

“Good thing your Council is in recess and can’t take advantage.”

That prompted…not quite a laugh, but certainly a little thawing of his expression.

“True enough.”

She worried her lower lip. “What did he say?”

Thane grimaced. “Not much, but he wasn’t pleased.”

“I expected him to be thrilled to add you to the family.”

That brought a glimmer of amusement to Thane’s eye. “No man likes the idea of a friend with his sister. Talon’s known me a long time. He knows my faults and he doesn’t like the idea of me putting my hands on you.”

The god of mischief prodded Ilexa to say, “I doubt it’s your hands he’s worried about.” Thane choked on his wine and she continued. “And I doubt it’s your faults as much as he knows where you’ve been.”

“Ilexa.”

“Am I wrong?” she asked as innocently as possible.

He glowered at her, and a little of the despair that had wedged in her chest when she’d accepted his proposal thawed.

“He expects to talk to you tonight.”

It was her turn to grimace. “I don’t suppose it’s to celebrate the joyful news.”

“I assume he wants to talk you out of it.”

She heard the undercurrent of concern and it made her temper flare. “I gave my word.”

“You did.”

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The noncommittal tone had her counting to ten. She took a deep breath. They would make this work, damn it. “Are you trying to provoke a fight?”

Thane considered her for a moment. “Yes, I believe I am.”

“What? Why?”

“I prefer you angry to depressed.”

“I am not depressed.” Her pride demanded the lie.

“Despondent then. That’s not the reaction a man wants to a proposal.”

“You didn’t propose.”

“I most certainly did.”

“When?”

He opened his mouth and closed it as she watched realization dawn.

“Ha!”

He had the grace to look chastened. “I apologize. I know you women put a great deal of value on men saying pretty words.”

She couldn’t tell if he was still trying to pick a fight with her or thought those words actually constituted an apology. “No woman wants false words.”

“I am not toying with you. My declaration is real.”

Touchy. Touchy. So he could dish it out but not take it? Not that she’d been trying to provoke him, but the principal remained the same. “I’m aware of the sincerity of your declaration. Otherwise, I would never have agreed to bind myself to you.”

His brow lowered. “Now you’re trying to start a fight.”

“I’m not. I just want us to go into this thing honestly. No false hopes or promises, but with our eyes wide open.”

“I haven’t misled or lied to you.”

“No, but you’ve made assumptions—such as my marrying you when we left the cave.”

“Fair enough.” He shoveled some vegetables into his mouth, chewed and swallowed.

“I promise you this Lex, I will be the best husband I can be to you. I want you to be happy in our marriage.”

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The sincerity radiating from him nearly broke her heart. She forced a smile. “I will be as good a wife as I can be, but I’ll never be a warrior.”

Thane studied her for a ponderous moment. “If I wanted a warrior, I would have been married by now. I want you.”

She hadn’t known a heart could break and swell at the same time.

“Besides you can be more fierce than a rabid gimfrey.”

It took her a second to process the sexual innuendo and damned if it didn’t make her cheeks burn. Unwilling to back down, she said, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

She had the satisfaction of watching him choke on his wine. She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“I’m looking forward to seeing more,” he growled when he recovered.

“So what do we do next?”

“I take you to the nearest bed and bring out the animal in you.”

She took a delicate bite of bread and smiled sweetly. “I meant about the wedding.”

He glared at her. “If I had my druthers, the Malkia would marry us right now.”

“Druthers? Who says druthers?”

He ignored her. “But I want your family’s approval.”

“Really? Druthers?”

“So talk to your brother tonight and decide how you want to proceed. We’ll have the Malkia make the announcement of our intent to marry in the morning.”

“What exactly is a druther?”

“As I’ve said before, we’ll have whatever service you like on N’yota, but you will legally be my wife before we leave the holding.”

“Is that a druther as well?”

“Make that by the end of the week.”

***

“No. I’m not.” Ilexa said with quiet dignity and ended the transmission before Talon could respond.

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Fury and hurt raged within her. How dare Big Brother demand to know if she carried Thane’s child before even bothering to say hello. Even though she and Thane had been careless, it offended her that Talon assumed that—or worse assumed Thane had knocked her up to manipulate her.

The communications panel chirped, but she ignored it and rose from the table. She left, telling the poor man assigned to communications to advise her brother to go to the fieriest hell. She felt a spark of guilt. The man on the evening shift was younger than her and clearly terrified of relaying her message. She squelched the guilt and wandered towards her room.

She wanted to go to Thane’s apartments and lose herself in his caress, but doubted he’d be there. He no doubt expected her chat with Talon to take longer than eighteen seconds.

If she did go to Thane, she’d only have to sneak out when she’d want to stay and cuddle in his arms. Bolstered by her anger at Big Brother, she reached a decision. She would wed Thane in the morning. If nothing else, she could then enjoy their sex life uninterrupted.

And she’d find a way to turn her love for him into fond friendship if it killed her.

“Ilexa.” The cold voice pulled her from her thoughts. She realized she’d reached her door when she saw Karia standing in the hall.

“I’m not really up for a confrontation with you tonight.” She couldn’t help being blunt. The emotional rollercoaster of the past few days had exhausted her. The other woman seemed to hesitate. “I’m not seeking a confrontation. Thane has claimed you as his ahali.”

“He has.”

Karia gestured towards her own room. “We should try to make peace. Will you join me for a cup of tea?”

Ilexa wanted to scream. She wanted to tell Karia to make her own peace. Hells, she wanted her mother. Instead, she mentally squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Better to resolve things with Karia before the wedding. “I’d enjoy a cup of tea.”

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***

Thane reclined casually in the seat across from the Malkia. Tribe attendance had been low for the evening meal, so he’d moved to enjoy a glass of wine and discuss the day’s training with Rhys.

From the glances the Malkia kept giving him, she’d heard he’d declared Ilexa his ahali. He ignored the expectant air around her. He would make no announcement or request for her to officiate at a wedding until Ilexa spoke to her family. He suppressed a wince at the recollection of Talon’s fury. His blood brother felt betrayed having trusted Ilexa to Thane’s care. Not that Thane blamed him. They’d chased—and caught—women in their younger, wilder days. Often they’d competed for the same woman for more the thrill of competition than actual desire. Hell, he wouldn’t want Ilexa around a man like his younger self. Just the thought of it set his blood to boil.

In the middle of a discussion about arena maintenance, Drea ran full tilt into the great hall and charged towards their table. Instinct launched him to his feet even before she drew close enough for him to see her tears.

Rhys and the Malkia rose as well, drawing all eyes to them. Drea grabbed Thane’s arm with such strength the muscles in her fingers trembled with exertion. He realized it was the first time he’d seen her stand so close to a man, much less touch one. His alarm escalated, but he was careful to hold it in check, not wanting to frighten the fragile woman.

Keeping his voice evenly modulated, he asked, “What’s happened?

“Something’s wrong,” she breathed.

That was obvious, but yelling at the distraught woman wouldn’t help matters. His mind screamed Ilexa’s name. He knew whatever had happened involved her. Otherwise, Drea would have gone to Ilexa.

“Tell me what’s happened.” His voice came out low and controlled.

“They took her and she wasn’t fighting them.”

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“Who took Ilexa?”

“Your father and Karia.”

Thane’s heart stopped and his lungs couldn’t draw in breath.

“What do you mean ‘she wasn’t fighting them’? Was she injured?” Rhys moved around the table to stand by Drea.

Drea shook her head violently. “I was cutting back to my apartment through the vehicle bay and I caught a glimpse of them. Borys never looked at me with the hatred I saw on the faces of Karia and Nytham. And Ilexa got into a transport with them.”

“Willingly? She made no protest?” Rhys asked.

Drea turned wild eyes to Thane. “There was no expression on her face. None. I know something bad is happening. Please. You have to believe me.”

Air finally rushed into his lungs as terror made room for fury. He opened his mouth to respond, but the Malkia spoke first.

“We believe you.” She turned to Rhys. “This is an act of treason and falls under the jurisdiction of the war council.”

Nausea rolled with fear in Thane’s stomach. He’d never heard of a tribe declaring one of its own a traitor, much less turning jurisdiction over to the warriors. In effect, the Malkia had just given them carte blanche to kill a senator and her own granddaughter. Rhys didn’t hesitate. He looked over his shoulder, snapped his fingers at a nearby tribe member and ordered, “Sound general quarters,” before turning back to Thane.

“We’ll organize a search using a theta pattern and—”

“No.” Thane shoved down debilitating emotions in favor of becoming the cold, methodical killing machine the League had trained. “I’m going after them now.”

“The rains will wash away any trail they might leave. A strategic search—”

“The rain won’t wash all their trails away,” Thane shot over his shoulder as he ran from the hall, forsaking his duty to lead the tribe for the first time in his life. Blessedly, the armory was on the way to the vehicle bay. He coded the lock and grabbed a blaster, two knives and a sword. As an afterthought, he snagged a first aid kit and bolted to the bay.

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He selected a transport far lighter than he would normally consider wise for the conditions, but knew in his bones he needed the faster speed the transport would provide. He leapt into the cockpit and gunned the engines, barely edging through the slowly opening doors in his haste.

Clearing the keep grounds, he switched off the terrain navigation feature and ignored the blaring systems alarm as the transport protested his override. He pulled up the magnetometer screen. With one eye squinting into the blinding rain and the other watching the mag spike and fall with anomalies, he followed their energy trail.

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Chapter Thirteen

Ilexa bounced along stretched out on the floor behind Karia and Nytham. She’d tried repeatedly to sit up, but her lax muscles refused to comply. The fog around her mind thinned, and while she had no memory of anything after accepting Karia’s cup of tea, only an idiot wouldn’t be able to deduce that she was in deep shit. It took two tries to get the words past her dry throat. “What did you give me?”

Karia swiveled in her seat, a malicious smile on her face. “Kahana root. It puts your mind into a trance-like state and as it wears off, it breaks down into a chemical that causes paralysis. Don’t worry, you won’t suffer long.”

Ilexa didn’t hold much hope the woman meant the effects would wear off quickly.

“Where are you taking me?”

“We’re not taking you anywhere. You’ve been stolen by a member of the Quixivon tribe. You’ll fight him, slip and fall into a fast-moving water rise. You’ll drown, but your corpse will be found with Quixivon tribal beads. We’ll accuse the Quixivon. They’ll deny it. Blood feud begins again, undoing your interference.”

“You’re going to murder me to restart the feud?”

Karia snorted. “That’s just an added benefit.”

“Be quiet, Karia. There’s no need to tell her anything.”

Ilexa silently thanked Nytham’s high-handed arrogance. Nothing could have better guaranteed Karia would continue to talk than the patronizing instruction to be silent. Karia tossed her head. “Who’s she going to tell?”

Nytham growled. “Bragging isn’t becoming of the mother of the next Malkine.”

That would have had Ilexa’s mouth dropping open if her muscles were working correctly. Was Karia carrying Nytham’s child? And what did that have to do with her?

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True to form, Karia ignored the rebuke. “We’re killing you to free Thane. The Malkias came from the Msaka line almost exclusively until a few generations back when the preference switched to my line. With you gone, I’ll marry Thane and the child we create will be the Malkine.”

The unholy gleam in Karia’s eye wasn’t religious fervor but a lust for power. Ilexa’s struggles to formulate a response ceased as the transport stopped and Nytham announced, “This is the best spot.”

She heard a door open and the thundering rains before it slammed shut again. While Nytham exited the transport, Karia climbed out of her seat to kneel at Ilexa’s side.

“You don’t know for certain that you will marry Thane, much less conceive the Malkine.”

Fury contorted Karia’s features. “I know.”

“You are committing murder. Will your Deity allow the Malkine to be born to one who committed such a sin?”

Hope surged in Ilexa’s chest as doubt clouded Karia’s face. Then the cloud cleared and hope withered with the words, “Genetics are not driven by religion. I will be mother to the next Malkine.”

The woman produced a set of intricately carved beads. She lifted Ilexa’s head with a none-too-gentle hand and wrapped the strand repeatedly around Ilexa’s neck. When she finished, Karia shoved a ripped piece of cloth in Quixivon colors up Ilexa’s sleeve. Desperate, Ilexa pointed out, “They’ll autopsy my body.”

“They won’t find anything. Kahana root is undetectable.”

The door opened. “I’ve found a ledge. Is she ready? Water’s rising.”

“She’s ready.”

Nytham grabbed her calves and hauled her up over the seat and out the door. As her body slammed against every surface inside the transport, Ilexa discovered that kahana root did nothing to deaden nerve endings.

Nytham slung her over his shoulder and without a word, walked about thirty paces from the transport and jumped down. They only fell a meter, but unable to see, Ilexa

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screamed when her stomach plunged with the fall. They landed on what she assumed was the aforementioned ledge.

The lights from the transport cut through some of the rain, giving her greater field of vision than she’d had at the cave, but hanging over his back she could only guess about their forward progress.

With no warning, she found herself unceremoniously dumped off his shoulder, landing with a hard thump that rattled her teeth and sent pain ricocheting through her body. She sprawled across the ledge flat on her back in an undignified position. Her head lay propped on a wayward rock, angling her so she could see Karia on the slight ridge above.

Icy rain sheeted down on her and she blinked rapidly against it, thrilled that the muscles controlling her eyelids still worked. After a moment, she found herself worrying that she’d drown from the deluge rather than the rising water. Somehow, that seemed less dignified, and for some reason ticked her off.

Nytham dusted his hands against each other as though he’d touched something filthy. He peered over the ledge behind her and gave a satisfied nod. “This will work. Water should crest the ledge in the next few minutes.” He turned back to Karia. “Let’s head back.”

“We need to make certain she actually drowns.”

“Water’s rising and we need to get back. The longer we’re gone, the greater the risk someone will realize we aren’t there. It might look suspicious later.”

Karia looked behind her, tilting her head slightly up as though looking at something up a slope. She turned back to him. “We’ll have plenty of time before the water is a hindrance to the transport. We need to see this through. If something should happen, and she lives, our lives will be forfeit.”

He studied Ilexa’s semi-prone form. “What could happen?”

“Nothing I can think of, but it’s always the unthinkable that trips a person up.”

“The risk of our being discovered missing is greater than the risk regarding Ilexa’s life.”

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Morbid humor at his word choice pierced her despair. Their definition of risk regarding her life diverged drastically from hers.

While Nytham and Karia bickered, Ilexa considered using her gift to invade his body. He stood close enough that she could do it. Once she accessed his body, she could likely interrupt the electrical signals in his brain and trigger a seizure or even paralyze him.

But doing so would mean forsaking her oath and she would not do that. Even if she did, it was no guarantee Karia would call for help. Instead, the warrior woman would be more apt to leave them both to die.

“We’re going,” Nytham snapped and strode purposefully towards Karia. The rising water licked against Ilexa’s boots and calves.

“The water’s rising faster than I expected. We’re going,” he repeated. Terror squeezed Ilexa’s chest and she fought to stay silent. She would not give them the satisfaction of hearing her scream.

Nytham put a hand on the ridge, but before he could lever himself up, an orange glow bathed Karia and she crumpled to the ground. A figure appeared from behind the fallen woman. Though the rain obscured his features, she’d know that silhouette anywhere. Still, it took several heartbeats for her mind to process that Thane had come for her.

And in the nick of time. The water covered her lower legs and climbed steadily upwards, lapping at the sides of her thighs and filling the hollow of her spine.

“Pick her up and carry her to the transport,” Thane ordered with no inflection to his voice.

“She’s ingested kahana root. Letting her die would be the merciful thing to do.”

Until that moment, she hadn’t even considered the paralysis could be permanent. A soft whimper escaped her, drowned out by the rain and roaring water.

“Pick her up and carry her to the transport.”

“I won’t do that.” Nytham’s voice became as lacking in humanity as his son’s.

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Thane must have believed him, because he pulled the trigger. A faint yellow glow flashed at the barrel and the blaster began to beep the power-drained alert.

“If you want a weapon to work, you have to keep it maintained,” Nytham sneered. “I taught you better than this.”

“I’m taking Ilexa back to the keep.” Thane tossed the blaster aside and leapt down to stand toe-to-toe with his father.

The cold water covered her from legs to waist and teased the underside of her breasts. She offered a blanket prayer to every god and goddess for herself and Thane. She couldn’t bring herself to include Karia and Nytham, even if it felt petty to exclude them. Nytham grabbed Thane’s shoulders. “Son, I’m doing this for you.”

Thane knocked the hands from his shoulders and tried to step around the older man. Nytham blocked him and swept Thane’s leg out from under him. While the rising water rapidly covered Ilexa, it only reached mid-calf of the two men. Still, Thane landed with a splash.

He shot back to his feet in an explosive movement, driving Nytham a few steps back.

“I’m getting Ilexa, whether you agree or not.”

“I can’t let you do that. You’ll thank me later.”

Nytham rushed his son, but Thane sidestepped and drove a fist into his father’s stomach. Nytham recovered quickly, spinning to catch Thane under the chin with a right hook. Thane’s head snapped back, he countered with a left cross. She couldn’t hear the meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh over the roar of water. It had risen to cover her torso and to caress her neck and the sensitive skin beneath her chin. Panic, hope and guilt warred within her as she watched father and son try to tear each other apart over her.

Nytham stumbled back and Thane advanced, carrying them out of her field of vision. She lay powerless to turn her head and follow them.

The water covered her lips when she heard the high shrieking whine of metal scraping against metal. Thane shouted something that was lost in the metal clang. The 166

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water swallowed her, and the last thing she saw before the darkness took her was Nytham’s face flying at her.

***

Her nose itched. She reached up to scratch it before realizing she shouldn’t be alive, much less able to move.

Her eyes flew open and she discovered a familiar face hovering above her. “Tristan!”

She sat up and flung her arms around her brother. He was handsome and dour—and she’d never seen a more welcome sight.

He squeezed her so tightly she couldn’t draw breath. “By the Powers, brat. You scared the hell out of me.”

When he released her, she pulled back enough to realize she lay in her bed at the Hakimu keep. “What—?”

“Take it easy. You are still recovering.”

“How—?”

His sigh cut her off. “Marlus cleared the kahana root from your system. It did some damage, but with a little physical therapy, you’ll make a complete recovery.”

“Marlus is here?”

“And it’s a damned good thing he is. The Hakimu had you written off as untreatable.”

Her mind spun with questions, but she focused on the most pressing. “Where’s Thane?”

Tristan shifted to his right, revealing Thane in the chair behind him. Paler than she had ever seen him, he slouched down with his head tilted to the right and his eyes closed. Alarmed, she started shoving the covers off her legs, desperate to reach him. Tristan caught her arms. “He’s well. They slipped him something in his drink this morning so he’d sleep. He’s been awake for the three days you’ve been back.”

“Three days?”

“Fortunately, Marlus and I arrived shortly after Thane returned with you.”

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“Three days,” she breathed, stunned. “What happened?”

“When Thane brought you in, they took you to the health center—”

“Medical,” she corrected.

“—and Marlus made them put you in here and set about removing the poison from your body.” Tristan grinned at her. “Wiped him out so bad it shut him up for a while.”

She grinned back. Marlus would talk until a listener’s ears fell off—actually, he’d lecture until their ears fell off. Then he’d pick them up, reattach them and keep going.

“He said the rest of your healing had to be done by your body.”

She shook her head. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve been worried sick, so someone had to come check on you.”

“Big Brother sent you.”

A faint red stained his cheeks. “Not exactly.”

She raised her brows. “You worried until you had to come check on me? Tristan, you are too sweet for words.”

He glowered at her. “I am not. I’m a cold-hearted bastard and don’t you forget it.”

“Of course you are,” she agreed with a chastened air, before ruining it by leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I’m so glad to see you.”

He shook his head. “You are impossible.”

“I try.” She glanced around the room. “Where is Marlus?”

“He’s meeting with your friend Quatres. Looks like we’ll be taking him back to N’yota with us for training.”

“I think he’ll enjoy that.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I’ve been trained,” she pointed out, confused.

Tristan gave the annoyed-older-brother eye roll. “Will you be returning with us?”

The question surprised her. “No. Didn’t Talon tell you? I’m marrying Thane.”

“From what I understand, he married you, but you are still free.”

“I’m marrying Thane,” she repeated quietly.

“You don’t have to.”

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“I’m marrying him.” A thought crossed her mind. “Did Talon send you here to kidnap me from Thane?”

Tristan barked a laugh. “No. I left N’yota a few days before your auspicious announcement. It takes time to get here, remember.”

“He could have suggested it to you after you left.” She’d had a lifetime of dealing with meddlesome brothers to build a healthy level of suspicion when interacting with them.

“He probably would have, but Bastian now outranks you on Big Brother’s shit list.”

“Bastian’s a free spirit. Talon needs to accept that.”

“Our free-spirited brother just registered ownership of a slave.”

Ilexa gaped. “Slavery is illegal in the League. And even if it weren’t, Bastian would never own a slave.”

“He does now.”

“Never. Never. Never.”

“And several of the oldest members of the League are grandfathered in on the slavery provision. Rykaya, Voltra, the Central Alliance—”

“There’s no slavery in the Central Alliance.”

“No, but technically it is on the books.”

Her blood boiled. She and Thane were going to have a talk about changing “the books”. Then she and the Malkia. Then she and the entire Intertribal Council if it were necessary.

“Lex, we don’t want you stuck here, married against your will.”

She had to forcibly drag her thoughts away from the slavery issue and back to her brother. It took a moment to process the subject change. “I’m not stuck and I’m very willing.”

A cloud passed over Tristan’s face and he glanced back at Thane.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Her brother hesitated.

“Tristan,” she warned.

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“Thane’s father…”

She’d been trying very hard to not think about her abductors. “I assume he and Karia are under arrest.”

“That bitch was, but she’s been sentenced. They branded her face with a T for traitor and threw her out. Apparently, the brands ensure no other tribe takes her in. Banishment means no one with speak to her or offer her shelter or aid until the day she dies.”

The harshness of the punishment didn’t bother Ilexa. She knew it should, but she could still feel the water rising around her and it drowned out her sympathy. “What about Nytham?”

“There’s no easy…” Tristan squared his shoulders, before saying starkly, “Thane decapitated him.”

Ilexa leaned over the side of the bed and dry heaved. Tristan rubbed her back in soothing circles. “Nytham refused to allow Thane to save you. When the water covered you, Thane had no recourse.”

Grateful that she’d had no food in her stomach, she pushed back into a sitting position. Tears flowed down her face. “He’ll never forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Lex. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She stared at him, knowing he believed it. But emotions weren’t logical. Because of her, Thane had been forced to kill his father.

“There’s more.”

“More?” she whispered, starting to feel a strange numbness.

“Thane’s renounced his family name. Something no one has done in over a thousand years.” Tristan patted her hand in an awkward gesture of comfort and glanced back at Thane. “Without a family, he has no place in the tribe. He’s lost his position as a warrior leader.”

“He’s not the Knife of the Hakimu?”

“Maybe you should lie down. You look really bad.”

“Tristan!”

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“He’ll get it all back when he obtains a family name, and he’s been offered hundreds.”

“But…” She tried to articulate the visceral understanding that didn’t translate well to words. “He’s Thane Msaka.”

Tristan’s eyes shone with an unusual light of sympathy. A memory ambled across her mind from childhood. She saw Tristan laughing and tossing her into the air. What had happened to make her brother so dour and unhappy?

“Now, he’s just Thane,” Tristan said.

She studied the man passed out in the chair making strange, snuffling noises through his nose. In her heart, he’d always been just Thane. “I can’t believe he did that.”

“Close to eight hundred tribe members belonged to the Msaka family. They’ve all renounced their name.”

“Because Nytham tried to kill me?”

“Because of how Nytham tried to kill you. If you weren’t exempted from fighting, he could have challenged you to a duel and killed you.” Tristan gave a disbelieving shake of his head. “That would have been acceptable.”

“So all those people are…nameless?”

“Yep. Apparently, they renounced Msaka now to show support for Thane rather than wait until Thane found a new family and renouncing when they could obtain a name immediately.”

“Why hasn’t he accepted a new family?”

“The name he wants hasn’t been offered yet.”

Ilexa began to get angry. “Anyone would be lucky to have him in their family. What family hasn’t offered?”

“Dhakir.”

She blinked twice. “He wants our name?”

“No, he wants your name. As I understand it, you are the head of your own family within the tribe.”

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He’d been forced to kill his father for her and he wanted her name? He still wanted her? “He told you this?”

“Not in so many words. He asked me if I thought Talon would mind. Of course, he’d been sitting by your side for two days without sleep. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have given up that much.”

She peered around Tristan with hope swelling her heart. Maybe he didn’t blame her. Maybe there was still hope.

The door opened and Marlus strode into the room. He stopped short seeing Ilexa sitting up in bed. “Look who’s conscious.”

“How’s Quatres?”

“He has a strong gift—and a strong spirit.” Her mentor crossed to stand by the bed.

“When the doctor declared you untreatable, Quatres tried to use his gift to help you. The attempt was feeble at best, but you have to admire the boy’s spirit. He will make a fine healer.”

“You’ll watch over him on N’yota?” She worried her lip. “He’s not a child of Havilla.”

Marlus patted her hand. “Of course he is. The way we define the divine has no bearing on his gift. Though, it will set those religious stuffed shirts in the temples on their ears.”

She grinned at that. “So you’ll keep an eye on him?”

“I will.” Marlus gave Tristan a shove and ignored her brother’s disgruntled look as he usurped the younger man’s position on the bed. “But first I’m going to look after you.”

Marlus placed a hand on her forehead and she closed her eyes, enjoying the cool, familiar mind touch of another healer. She floated in the quiet darkness while Marlus worked, letting herself enjoy the temporary peace. She finally felt him withdraw and opened her eyes with reluctance.

“You’re healing well, but I’m going to give you some exercises to do to rebuild your muscles.”

“All right.”

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“You will do them.”

“All right.”

“I mean it, Lex. Three times a day.”

“I said I would do them.”

“She’ll do them.”

They all turned to see Thane rubbing the crick in his neck.

“You’re awake.” Ilexa tried to cover the stupidity of that remark with, “How are you feeling?”

He rose and moved to stand beside her. “I’m fine. The question is how are you?”

“She’ll make a full recovery,” Marlus assured him.

“I need to contact my family and tell them she’s conscious.” Tristan locked gazes with Thane.

They exchanged hard looks in a silent, masculine communication she couldn’t understand. Appearing satisfied with the outcome of the nonverbal conversation, the two men nodded at each other.

“I’ll be back in a little while.” Tristan paused when he reached the doorway. “Any message I should relay?”

“Give everyone my love,” Ilexa replied, though she was pretty sure the question hadn’t been directed to her.

“I will.”

Marlus rose. “I will give the two of you some privacy.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Ilexa staring at Thane and wondering what the hells to say.

***

Thane settled on the vacated spot beside Ilexa. She looked pale and tired. The ordeal had drained her. She’d not fared well on Dunia.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

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“I’m fine.” She cupped his cheek with the soft palm of her hand. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

Guilt had him pulling his head back. He didn’t deserve her kindness. “I’m fine.”

“Thane, I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m so sorry about your father.”

Hate for the man burned like acid in his chest. He couldn’t bear to hear Ilexa, with her beautiful spirit, speak of a man so. She shouldn’t know such horrors existed, much less have ever been confronted with them. “Do not speak of him.”

She didn’t so much as blink at the harsh order, much less heed it. “Thank you for saving me. There aren’t any words to tell you how…sorry I am about Nytham.”

He wanted her to stop talking about it. He’d rather face his father again than hear her mention him. The greening bruise on her cheek where his father’s flying head had struck her only inflamed his fury—and his need to see her safe. “I think you should return with Tristan to N’yota.”

She shook her head. “I know you think I need a big ceremony on N’yota, but I’d prefer to marry you quietly. Here. Though I would like to go visit when Lia has the baby.”

Deity, it nearly killed him to tell her “I won’t marry you, Lex. I’m sorry.”

Tears swam in her eyes. “Because you had to kill your father to save me.”

“No!” How could she believe that? How could she stand to consider marrying the spawn of the bastard who tried to kill her? “I want you to return to N’yota.”

A speculative expression settled onto her face. “And leave my waume behind?”

“Don’t say that! Ever. Someone might overhear you.” His panic for her eclipsed his thought process for a moment. “Not that it matters. Waume doesn’t mean anything on N’yota.”

“It does. By signing the League charter, N’yota recognizes all Central Alliance laws and contracts that are executed within its borders.”

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“Shit!” Thane shot to his feet. He’d forgotten that legal tidbit. “You can’t call me waume, Lex. Someone might here and you would be bound.”

“I will call you that,” she shouted, leaping from the bed. He barely caught her before she pitched face first to the floor—her legs too wobbly to support her.

“You will do those exercises,” he growled.

“Don’t change the subject,” she ordered haughtily as he settled her back on to the bed. “I will drag myself to the hallway and call you my waume to the first passerby if I must.”

“Lex, think.”

“I am thinking.”

“Do you really want to spend your life with a man of Nytham’s blood? Do you want that blood flowing in the veins of your children?”

“I want to spend my life with you and I want your blood to mingle with mine in the veins of our children.”

“You aren’t being rational.”

She swallowed hard. “Love isn’t rational, Thane. And I’ve loved you since I was a little girl.”

She’d have shocked him less if she’d punched him in the kidney. “Lex—”

“No.” She cut him off with an emphatic slash of the hand. “I know you don’t love me and that’s fine, but you will not run me off.”

He wanted to weep and wrap himself in her forgiveness and love, but he couldn’t. She deserved so much better than him. “You aren’t thinking clearly right now—”

“Could you be more patronizing?”

“Lex, you need to recover and not let sympathy and pity drive your thoughts and words.”

She shrieked at him in such a high-pitched frequency, he couldn’t understand her. He supposed that was for the best given the expression on her face.

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Finally she took a deep breath. “You’re stuck with me, Thane. You might as well accept it.”

Unable to face such heart-wrenching sincerity, he rose. “You need to rest. I’ll talk to you later.”

He nearly crumbled, his hand on the door knob, when he heard her say in a wistful voice, “I do love you.”

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Chapter Fourteen

Thane waited outside the communications office for Tristan to emerge. It turned into a long wait and Thane finally slid his back down the wall and settled cross-legged onto the ground. A man with no name, no family. He had no pride left to protect. Sometime later, Tristan appeared. The man looked startled to see him sitting there.

“I trust your family wanted the explicit details of Lex’s recovery.”

“Just Talon and my mother.” A half-grin quirked Tristan’s mouth. “More Talon than my mother. Everyone else was happy to know she’ll be fine.”

“Your brother cares deeply about his family.”

A flicker of amusement lit Tristan’s eyes. “I assured him you were recovering as well.”

Pain sliced through him, but he kept his face impassive. “I need you to take Ilexa off Dunia immediately. Don’t let her speak to anyone. Drugging her first would be best.”

A cold mask settled onto Tristan’s face, wiping the humor from it. “You planning on breaking my sister’s heart?”

I do love you floated through his mind and he steeled himself against his softening resolve. “It’s for her own good.”

“Explain ‘her own good’.”

Tristan growled the words, but Thane couldn’t fault the younger man. He hated himself at the moment. “There is an old Hakimu expression—blood will out—and I am Nytham’s son.”

His ahali’s brother regarded him for a silent moment. Then surprised him by sliding down the wall to sit beside him.

“On N’yota, we have an expression as well. No one can walk the path before you but you.”

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“Blood will out,” Thane repeated wretchedly. “Maybe further down the path, but it will out.”

Fuck. He was miserable and wallowing in it. Fuck it. He deserved to wallow and proceeded to engage in wallowing for ten minutes, before being interrupted.

“I have spent the last two years watching my sister turn into a shadow of herself. That fun-loving, lighthearted spirit slowly disappeared, and none of us knew why. She trusts you enough to confide in you and let you bully her into telling her family her troubles. We’ve spent months, years, trying to get her talk to us. She finally confessed her problems via subspace, all because she trusted you first.”

“Her time on Dunia has hardly returned her fun-loving, lighthearted spirit.”

“Once innocence is gone, it can’t be retrieved, but Lex is no longer lost. Her spirit is back. It’s just matured.”

Thane didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m not going to drug my sister and haul her offworld,” Tristan finally announced. Fear raced through his veins. “If she calls me waume on Dunia, she will be bound to me by League law.”

He could see the other man turn the words over in his mind. Finally, Tristan said, “I will be honored to call you brother.”

“Ilexa deserves better,” he shouted in shocked response.

“I’m not sure there is better. I can think of no other man who would risk his life to save hers, who would kill his own father to rescue her, and who would drag her to safety believing she was permanently paralyzed even though he was tied to her for life.” Tristan dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to the family, Thane.”

Thane sat in stunned silence as Tristan pushed back up and strode off in the direction of Ilexa’s room.

***

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Ilexa awoke to blessed silence. She cracked a wary eyelid, searching the dark for the bickering over the chessboard.

“Your brother and mentor have retired for the night.”

A match flared to life and the Malkia lit several candles on the bedside table. In the flickering light, the woman’s ethereal eyes gleamed with inner illumination.

“Malkia,” Ilexa greeted, forcing herself to a seated position.

“I promised your brother I would sit with you.”

Embarrassment burned her cheeks. “I’m well, please feel free to retire.”

“I am here by choice.”

What in all the hells did that mean? “That is kind of you.”

A secretive smile flitted across her face. “I am pleased you will fully recover.”

“Thank you.”

“Thane’s injuries are more severe than yours.”

Terror jerked her upright. “Has Marlus seen him? What’s his prognosis?”

“His injuries are not physical.”

“We have mindhealers on N’yota—”

“Child, you are not hearing me.”

Ilexa swallowed the questions that sprang to her lips.

“Thane struggles with the guilt of the pain the Msaka family caused you.”

“He’s not responsible—”

“He feels responsible.” The Malkia said softly. “It will color his actions for the rest of his life, one way or another. Can you handle that?”

The Malkia’s quiet wisdom struck Ilexa. Some things fundamentally struck a person’s psyche so deep they never escaped it—no matter how much therapy they had. Ilexa had no doubt that decapitating one’s father fell into that category.

“I can handle it,” Ilexa replied with quiet sincerity. “But I fear seeing me only causes him more pain.”

“You are wrong. Seeing you will always soothe his soul.”

“How can you know that?” Ilexa asked, anguished.

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“There is more to being a Malkia than the tribe knows. The Deity whispers to me of Thane’s heart and mind.”

Blasted tears made their way down Ilexa cheeks. “You’re sure?”

“The Deity is never wrong. The only question is whether you can live with Thane.”

“He’s my waume,” she replied in an almost reverent tone. The Malkia inclined her head solemnly, but Ilexa saw the satisfaction in the elderly woman’s eyes.

“So be it,” the Malkia pronounced, rising.

***

Though Tristan and Marlus supported most of her weight. Ilexa managed to walk into the great hall for breakfast.

“There is no need for this,” Marlus complained. “Breakfast can be brought to you. You were always my most stubborn student.”

As Marlus continued to rant, Tristan gave her waist a supportive squeeze. She lifted her head—only to nearly fall on her face when her dour brother gave a conspiratorial wink.

“What in the name of all that is holy is she doing out of bed?”

She snapped her head forward to meet Thane’s furious—and incredulous—

expression.

“She has come to join her waume for breakfast.” To Ilexa’s satisfaction, her voice carried through the great hall.

Thane paled a moment before he scooped her up, wrenching her away from her brother and Marlus. She felt the fury vibrating within him as he carried her back to her room.

He dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed. “Have you lost your damned mind?

The entire tribe heard that!”

“As did my brother and Marlus.”

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Her observation failed to calm him. “You just bound yourself to a man with no name and no honor.”

“I’ve bound myself to the most honorable man I know.”

“Ilexa…” He scrubbed his hands over his face as he paced the confines of her room.

“You don’t understand what you’ve done.”

She swallowed, nervous in the face of the despair radiating from him. “I know exactly what I’ve done.”

“I said I wouldn’t marry you.” Bewilderment twined around the despair in his voice.

“I remember.” And she always would. The pain those words had caused still burned in her heart.

“Then why?”

“Because I love you. I’ve loved you since you were just a little girl’s fancy.”

“Lex—”

“No!” She tried to stand, staggered, and settled for leaning against the bed. “Nearly dying made me see how foolish I have been. It doesn’t matter that you don’t love me. I love you and you are my waume—regardless of your family affiliation.”

It was a testament to her determination that she didn’t pitch face first to the rug before she finished. Thane caught her and settled her back on the bed a little more carefully than before.

“What am I going to do with you?”

She shook her head, feeling sad. “There’s nothing for you to do. I’m not trying to trap you or guilt you. And if you insist, I’ll break my IMEP contract and return to N’yota with Tristan.”

Indecision crawled across Thane’s face and her heart shattered. Before he could utter a response—or even format one—she said, “But right now, I’d like to get some more rest…and maybe some food.”

Thane nodded and, to her disgust, looked relieved. “I’ll have breakfast delivered.”

He escaped with a grateful air that both hurt and made her angry. Staring at the closed door, she told herself she’d done the right thing.

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Now, she just had to convince herself.

***

He avoided Ilexa for the next three days. Though avoid was probably too strong a word, given all he had to do was not visit her room. Trying to drown his misery in work, he took to the arena. No longer responsible for overseeing the training, he lost himself in the physical exertion of battling other tribe members.

Though he didn’t speak to anyone, nothing stopped him from hearing the questions and speculation floating around him. And he couldn’t completely drown out the little voice in his head urging him to go to Ilexa.

When the clang of weapons stilled, Thane watched the other warriors file out of the arena, sharing casual conversation and laughter. Exhausted, he cleaned the sword, returning it to the proper stand.

He watched the cleanup crew wheel the weapons away with narrowed eyes. He would have to choose a family soon so he could resume his role as Knife of the Hakimu—if for no other reason than to determine who had failed to properly store the blaster he’d taken to rescue Ilexa. Such negligence could have resulted in her death.

“Thane?”

He jolted back to himself. Rhys stood before him. Inclining his head respectfully, he said, “Sword of the Hakimu.”

Rhys shook his head. “Son, you are my right arm. Addressing me so formally is ridiculous.”

“A nameless man—”

“Enough.” Rhys didn’t have to raise his voice to have it whip through the arena with authority.

So mired in his own misery, it took Thane a moment to process the older man’s anger. Of course Rhys was angry. He and the Malkia had lost their granddaughter. Worse, they’d lost the woman they believed their granddaughter to be. He couldn’t 182

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understand how they could stand there radiating concern for him. The man who’d exposed Karia’s lack of honor. The man who had caused her banishment. Feeling confused, he wisely held his tongue.

“You are allowed to grieve. Deity knows you are entitled to your pain, but your tribe needs you. I need you. Without a Knife, we are weakened and over seven hundred tribe members no longer have a name. An identity. Your suffering costs them their existence in the tribe.”

Thane closed his eyes. Rhys spoke the truth. “I will join a family by morning.”

“Join the one you truly desire.”

The soft, authoritative voice of the Malkia in his ear made him jump. His eyes flew open to see her at his side. Apparently, he’d lost his senses when he’d lost his name.

“There are a few choices that appeal to me …”

She shook her head. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you turned coward.”

He physically jerked at her words as his pride fought to raise its head. The Malkia stared at him as though she could see his soul. “What about the name you desire? The one you haven’t let be offered yet?”

Thane was shaking his head in denial when Rhys said, “She’s leaving in the morning.”

He froze mid-shake, attention arrested. “Leaving?”

“She’s returning to N’yota with her brother and the other healer,” the Malkia told him.

He’d thought he’d been suffering before, but the Malkia’s words sent shards of pain tearing through his system like bits of broken glass. “That’s for the best.”

“Is it?” In contrast to her consort, the Malkia’s voice held sympathy and compassion.

“She’s legally bound to you.”

“She might be unable to legally wed someone, but she could still build a life with him. Somewhere away from here. Somewhere safe.”

“She could,” the Malkia agreed. “But she won’t. Her commitment to you is as strong as yours is to her. That beautiful, vibrant woman will spend her life alone. No one will

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share her joys or help her through the trials of life. She’ll never know the joys of motherhood or those of being a grandmother.”

Guilt and longing spun through him like twin tornados. “Maybe that’s best.”

The Malkia shook her head. “Despite what Karia became, I would not trade a moment of her childhood for anything. I have regrets. Gerund is weak and I should have taken a more active role in raising her after my daughter died, but I will always cherish the joy she brought me.”

“Even if Ilexa never has children, off Dunia, she’ll be safe.” Why couldn’t they understand that?

“Ah,” the Malkia breathed. “Now I see. It’s not just your blood you blame, but your tribe.”

Thane closed his eyes against the truth of her words.

“Malkia, may I speak with Thane?” At her nod, Rhys ordered, “Walk with me.”

The two men fell into step and walked in silence along the outer rim of the arena. The roar of the rain drowned out the sound of their footsteps.

“I hate this tribe.”

While being nameless had affected Thane’s senses and instincts, it had not affected his balance. The quiet words uttered by the Sword of the Hakimu didn’t knock him off his feet—but they did make him stumble. “What?”

Rhys ignored the obvious shock in Thane’s voice. “I was born into this tribe and fought my way to position of Knife.”

Thane nodded. He knew Rhys’s history and warrior reputation.

“When I became Knife, I first met the Malkine. I’d seen her often since she’d been born, but never spoken to her. When I had to talk to her the first time, my knees actually knocked. After the celebration of my rise to Knife ended, I went out into the rain to escape the lingering well-wishers and the Malkine followed me. We stood in the downpour and had to shout to be heard. Through the mystic veil of the Malkine, I saw a beautiful, kindhearted, neglected woman. Someone so much more than the role others expected fulfilled.”

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Unbidden, images of Lia rose to Thane’s mind. Sovereign of N’yota and interplanetary power, she would always be Talon’s spirited wife in Thane’s eyes.

“I’ll spare you the romantic drivel, but I fell fast and hard. I’ve never forgiven the tribe.”

“For…?” Thane couldn’t seem to connect the dots.

“For not seeing her as I see her. For not seeing her. A person. A woman with a beating heart. Someone worthy of her own name. I protect the tribe because she loves it and for no other reason…” Anger poured off the warrior in hot waves as Rhys visibly battled his anger. “I tell you this, because I want you to know that I understand your rage. The tribe should have protected Ilexa.”

Thane’s soul sang with relief that someone understood his fury. “She deserved the tribe’s protection.”

“She did and we failed to keep her safe from an evil living among our own people, an evil within my own bloodline. But will you continue to punish her for the tribe’s failures? For your father’s?”

Thane sucked in a harsh breath, but before he could respond, he realized they’d lapped the arena and the Malkia stood less than five meters from them. While the Malkia hadn’t moved, something inside Thane had shifted. Something he couldn’t quite explain had changed about the woman. A spark of anger ignited. “She deserves a name.”

“I gave her one.” Pride threaded Rhys’s voice.

Oblivious to Thane’s new view of her—or at least willing to ignore it—the Malkia approached and placed a hand on his arm. “We want to see you happy.”

He inclined his head.

“We should leave Thane to his decision.”

The words implied the decision about his family name, but they all knew the real issue with which he wrestled.

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Making polite noises and excuses, he returned to his apartment, opting to skip the communal dinner. The thoughts in his head and the emotions in his gut made food impossible.

***

Ilexa sat cross-legged on her bed trying to center herself. She’d long since abandoned the idea of sleep, but her mind wouldn’t allow her to relax enough to complete even a basic breathing exercise.

Giving up, she stretched out lengthwise along the edge of the bed and stared down at the rug with the beast design. Memories of the mystical creature inked onto Thane’s chest brought a rush of longing that didn’t come close to filling the hollowness inside her. They’d be leaving in a few hours, and she knew in her heart she’d never return. She’d never see the Hakimu keep again. Drea and Quatres would correspond with her for a while, taking care to never mention Thane. Then they’d slowly drift away from her and become a fond memory.

She’d been surprised when Tristan had tried to discourage her from returning to N’yota with them. Even more surprised when Tristan hadn’t challenged or tried to kill Thane. Not that she’d asked. One of the benefits of Marlus’s care was any information she might want—and a lot she didn’t—was volunteered. The hinges creaked as the door opened, but she didn’t bother to look up. Tristan had started hovering when she announced she would accompany them home. “I’m fine.” As an afterthought she asked, “What time is it?”

“A little after two.”

She jerked and reared up on her forearms to see Thane standing in her doorway.

“May I come in?”

Dry mouthed, she nodded. Sitting up, she watched him warily. “Did you come to say goodbye?”

He sat on the edge of the chair across from her and something about his posture indicated he was ready to bolt. Finally, he asked, “Do you hate me?”

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“For staying away? No. I figured it was easier and less awkward for both of us that you did.”

He eyed her oddly. “I apologize for staying away. I needed to…get some perspective.”

“It’s fine, Thane. I understand.”

“Do you hate me? For my blood?” He ran a hand through his loose hair. She’d told him this before, but he obviously needed to hear it again. “You aren’t responsible for your father’s actions. I can’t forgive you. You’ve done nothing for me to forgive.”

He didn’t meet her eyes. “Do you hate me for being Hakimu?”

She’d poured her heart out to him, laid her soul bare and confessed her love. What in all the hells prompted these questions? “I don’t understand. Of course I don’t hate you. I’m Hakimu, too. Remember?”

He raised his eyes and the pain in them struck her like a physical blow.

“We failed you. Your tribe failed you. How can you not hate us? Hate me?”

Prophets and gods, his pain was tangible. “I don’t hate or blame you—or the tribe.”

“You should. I do.”

The hatred and rage in his eyes almost frightened her. She rose on shaky legs and took the few steps to throw her arms around him. “Don’t. Please don’t let this define you or your relationship with the tribe.”

He caught her off-guard when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his lap, clinging to her like a drowning man to a piece of flotsam. She held him just as tightly. Something had broken his emotional dam and she feared him being swept away in the current. They sat like that for a while, Ilexa savoring the feel of him.

“The Malkia tells me you’re leaving,” he whispered into her hair.

“Not because I’m angry or afraid,” she told him emphatically. “I thought it would make things easier for you if I went.”

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She felt him turn his head and rest his cheek against her crown. “How would not seeing you make things easier? That’s like taking away light to help me see.”

Cautious hope began to bloom in her chest. “You need me?”

“More than my next breath.” He shuddered as he inhaled. “Don’t leave me, Lex.”

“Why?” She asked, unwilling to make an assumption on something so important.

“Why don’t you want me to leave?”

“Because I love you. I need you.”

She didn’t cry—though she was close to it. She needed all her energy to help hold him together. “I love you, too.”

“Marry me.”

“Anytime,” she promised and lifted her head for a kiss. The heat between them sparked and flared, but Thane pulled back, shaking his head.

“You have to heal.”

She felt his excitement beneath her, but he shook his head again. “Not until you’re better. I won’t risk it.”

Taking his earlobe between her teeth, she nipped him. “But I ache. Don’t you want me to feel better?”

He swept her up and deposited her on the bed with a glower. “Not until Marlus clears you.”

“Thane, I’m a healer. I know what’s safe.”

“You’ve told me you can’t heal yourself. We’ll wait until he gives us permission.”

Thane paused. “And we’ll wait until we’re married.”

“Thane!”

“I’ll use whatever incentive I have to hurry this along.”

“Why are you suddenly in such a rush?” she griped.

“I don’t want you to change your mind.”

His tone was teasing, but the haunted look on his face made her regret sniping at him. On impulse she said, “Marry me in the morning and let’s go visit my family. We can be there for the birth of my niece or nephew.”

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He hesitated. “I’m not sure…”

“Please,” she wheedled, before shifting to shameless blackmail. “Otherwise, I won’t marry you until I return after the birth. I’ll just leave you here alone—” she stretched, arching her back to thrust her chest out, “—until then…”

He groaned.

She dropped the sensual pose and let solemn promise fill her eyes. “But regardless of our relationship status, I would be honored if you took the name Dhakir.”

“Not as honored as I am to accept it.”

They sealed his acceptance with a tender kiss, but this time, she pulled back first.

“Marry me in the morning.”

Thane released a put-upon sigh. “Fine, but that means facing Talon in person. You owe me.”

She laughed. “Talon will be thrilled. Besides, he’ll be so worried about Lia, he won’t be able to give you grief.”

“It’s not grief as much as assassination I’m worried about.” Thane grumbled.

“No worries there. Your death would upset Lia.”

“It would?”

“And it would destroy me.”

He lowered his head to rest against hers and she sensed the emotion churning within him.

“First thing in the morning, we’ll have the Malkia marry us. Then we’ll brave your family.”

“Second thing,” she corrected.

“Second thing?”

“First thing, I’m getting clearance from Marlus.”

He crawled into bed to hold her and she savored the sound of his chuckle.

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About the Author

To learn more about Liz Craven please visit www.lizcraven.com. Send an email to Liz at liz.craven@lizcraven.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Liz! groups.yahoo.com/group/lizcraven_newsletter

Look for these titles by Liz Craven

Now Available:

Prophesied

Is he the hero of her childhood dreams…or the death of them—and her?

Prophesied

© 2008 Liz Craven

On the day of her birth, Lia fulfilled a prophecy that ended a 5,000-year war, and became a wife. But being the fulfillment of a sacred prophecy makes for a stifling childhood—not to mention a dangerous one. When an assassination attempt goes wrong, Lia takes the opportunity and runs from her destiny—as well as from her absent husband. Talon isn’t sure what to expect when he rescues his bride from a mining colony on a barren moon. What he doesn’t anticipate is her lack of gratitude and her repeated escape attempts. Determined to convince his wife to accept her duties, Talon knows he also needs to keep her safe, even if he has to lock her up in his own quarters to do it. As they get closer to their planet and Lia’s coronation, the danger around them increases, and so does the tension between them. For their growing attraction to turn into something more, they need to stay alive and learn to trust each other—a tall order when Lia’s experience in life has taught her that trusting people can get you killed.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Prophesied:

Lia’s eyes, accustomed to the dark mines, burned under the harsh office light. Blinking the tears back, the face of the speaking soldier wavered briefly, before coming into focus.

Her heart stuttered, and she managed to keep her jaw from dropping. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse—or any better, she wasn’t sure which. His face was leaner than she remembered, giving his cheekbones a sharp edge. He had lost the soft features of a young man. The roundness of his cheeks had faded, making his square jaw more pronounced and giving him a determined look. He regarded the rep with gray eyes, the color of melted xyreon ore when light struck it. Unlike the ore, however, his flinty eyes were ice cold. The world “ruthless” flitted across her mind and a shiver danced down her spine.

His body had been long and lanky when she had last seen him, but the man before her was not the awkward boy she once knew. His chest had filled out, making him easily three times her width. His upper torso tapered to a lean waist. Body armor hugged trim hips and strong legs. The red emblem of an elected planetary official gleamed on his shoulders.

He barely glanced at her, and the feeling of disappointment that swept over Lia surprised her. She hadn’t wanted him to recognize her and had no business feeling hurt because she had gotten her wish.

As she studied him, he glanced at a soldier behind him and jerked his chin in her direction. A man with blond hair and the flush of youth still in his cheeks stepped towards her. He smiled at her—the first courtesy ever offered to her in the rep’s office—

and extended his arm.

“This will only take a moment,” the young soldier assured her. Staring at the device he was holding, Lia took a cautious step back. The rep still had a death grip on her arm—her fingers were going numb—so the step was small, but it was enough for the soldier to hesitate.

“What is that?” she demanded, relieved she sounded angry rather than panicked.

“It won’t hurt.” His tone was polite, if condescending, but he didn’t lower the device.

“What ‘won’t hurt’?” Lia snapped out.

The young man actually blushed. “It’s a simple DNA scan. It will take less than five seconds, and you won’t feel a thing.”

This time Lia wrenched her arm free from the rep as she leaped backwards.

“Absolutely not.”

“I promise it won’t hurt,” the youth reassured her.

“I said no.”

Then he spoke, and he had the audacity to sound amused. “Madam, we are looking for someone. The DNA scan will help narrow our search by eliminating you. We will compensate you for your time.”

She snorted. Even if they gave her money, the rep would be the one “compensated”

for her time. “I still refuse.”

“We must insist.”

Ignoring the furious glare of the rep, she stood her ground. “Under League privacy laws, a DNA scan cannot be compelled unless an individual is under arrest. Am I under arrest?”

He lifted an eyebrow. She resisted the urge to reach up and yank it back down.

“You are not under arrest—” he conceded.

“Then I am free to refuse the scan.”

“Neither are you in League territory,” he continued. He gestured towards the youth.

“Caden.”

Lia’s stomach sank. They had her. League laws meant nothing on Tmesis. The only thing she could do was endure the scan with dignity. The young soldier stepped forward, pointing the scanner at her. Dignity be damned. With fury fueled by fear, Lia kicked out, knocking the scanner from the unsuspecting soldier’s hand. She spun and darted for the door. She didn’t make it three meters, before slamming into another one of the soldiers who had circled around to block her path with inhuman speed. Her breathing hitched when she took in his glowing red eyes, wide-spread jaw, and sharp pointed teeth. An Inderian. A proud and fierce race of warriors steeped in tradition, blood feuds, and honor. If their inherent skills weren’t enough to inspire fear in those they met, the rumors of ritual sacrifice and cannibalism were. They rarely left their home system, but those who did usually hired out as assassins.

Were the soldiers seeking her out to ensure her death?

The Inderian turned Lia to face the others, lifting her completely off her feet to do so, and she hated that her face was flushed. The impromptu flight embarrassed her. Where did she think she was going? There weren’t a lot of hiding places on a barren moon. Especially when you needed pesky little luxuries like water. Fortunately, the dirt and grime smearing her face hid her blush. At least she hoped they did. He stood in the same place, his arms crossed and that infuriating eyebrow still cocked, making no effort to hide his amusement.

Caden held the scanner again, his gaze flicking back and forth between Lia and his commander who met Lia’s narrowed eyes for a brief moment before nodding. Caden approached her cautiously, like drawing near a nest of vipers. Lia felt a crazy urge to laugh. The Inderian held her immobilized. She could barely turn her head, much less attack a trained soldier. She wasn’t fooling herself. The only reason she’d succeeded in kicking him before was the element of surprise.

No miner in their right mind would attack a League soldier. Lia supposed that meant she was no longer in her right mind. Not that it mattered, seeing how they were probably going to kill her.

She had feared for her life for as long as she could remember and had half-expected to feel relief at finally facing death. She didn’t. She was pissed-off, plain and simple. And under the anger, her heart ached that the one good thing she remembered from childhood—this cold and amused man—was an illusion. An illusion that was probably going to kill her.

Caden pressed a button and a beam of orange light moved over her. The crucial procedure took mere seconds. The light disappeared, and Caden began inputting data into the scanner.

Scrapping together what little dignity she had left, Lia addressed the Inderian. “You can release me now.”

A nod from their leader, and she found herself standing on her own two feet. The Inderian shifted behind her and she knew he prepared to catch her if she bolted. He needn’t have bothered. With the scan completed, she felt oddly resigned and drained of energy. With her anger gone, the long day, the cave-in and her injury finally caught up with her. Not to mention the strain of the last five minutes. She wanted to sit down. Actually, she wanted to curl into fetal position. She did neither. A pair of boots stepped into her field of vision and she looked up into the face of the man from her past.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” The brisk tone lacked warmth, but Lia sensed he was trying to be kind. Her anger had amused him. She wondered if her dejection bothered him.

She decided to answer his question honestly. “Yes, it was.”

He blinked, and she realized she had surprised him. Instinctively, she knew very little surprised this man.

He inclined his head politely. “I apologize for the inconvenience.” He hesitated before dropping his voice to prevent the rep from overhearing. “We only seek to find a missing person. The scan will be used to eliminate your DNA as a match for hers. Once done, you will be free to go. We will not be passing scan results on to authorities or storing them in any public database. Your privacy and secrets will remain intact.”

He thought her a criminal afraid of being caught. She was about to surprise him again.

He turned away from her, dismissing her. “Caden, I believe we have taken up enough of this young lady’s time. Record her as a non-match and reset the scanner for the next subject.”

“I can’t,” Caden sounded nervous.

“You can’t? The scanner is malfunctioning?”

“No, sir. I just ran and reran a diagnostic on it. I also ran the results four times,”

Caden rushed to assure him.

“Then what seems to be the problem?”

“There’s no problem. It’s just that…” He hesitated.

“That what?” the commander barked.

“I’m a match,” Lia said wearily. “I’m your wife.”

Could he give up the stars…for her?

Earthchild

© 2008 Katriena Knights

Taken in as an infant and raised by the primitive, non-human natives of the colony planet Denahault, Noisy Girl has always known she was different. Human settlers initiating peaceful contact confirm it—her true home is a planet called Earth, millions of miles away among the stars.

Her search for her heritage leads her to the home of Harrison Fairfax and Trieka Cavendish, and their guest Jeff Anderson, Trieka’s former second-in-command. For Jeff, Trieka’s offer to captain the legendary ship Starchild is a lifelong dream fulfilled. Then he meets Noisy Girl, an entrancing young woman who speaks only in sign language. She captures his imagination like no other woman ever has, and his efforts to teach her English deepens a relationship he never thought was possible for him. But the claustrophobic, technology-laden atmosphere of Earth traumatizes the gentle Noisy Girl, and suddenly Jeff’s choices aren’t quite so clear. If he accepts permanent command of Starchild, all hope of happiness with this beguiling woman will be destroyed. Unless a compromise can be found…

Enjoy the following excerpt for Earthchild:

“…so she just stripped right there and put it on.”

“At least you know she liked it,” said Fairfax.

Jeff glanced down the table at Noisy Girl. He wasn’t comfortable talking about her while she sat only a few feet away. But her smile reminded him she had no idea what he was saying. Even if she had, he didn’t think it would have bothered her because she had no idea why what she’d done might seem unusual.

Trieka gestured with her fork. “She has no concept of nudity, Jeff. Think about it. She’s lived her whole life among people who are physically incapable of being naked.”

He nodded. That part made sense to him. “But the merchant—he barely blinked an eye.”

“It’s a frontier planet.” Trieka shrugged. “Most of the people here left Earth because they wanted to get away from the restrictive environment. There’s a lot of acceptance here. As long as you aren’t hurting anything, nobody really cares what you do.”

“Personally, I’m highly in favor of women running naked in the streets.”

Jeff stared, barely believing the comment had come from Fairfax. It must have, though, because Trieka, grinning, smacked his arm. Fairfax, unfazed, opened his roast beef sandwich and added another spoonful of horseradish. Jeff decided it would be easier to change the subject than to dwell on the fact he’d never in his life had so much fun shopping with a woman. And that it would have been fun even if she hadn’t taken her clothes off. “There have to be rules, though. Don’t tell me the whole planet is anarchist.”

“Not as many rules as there were,” said Fairfax, “and there weren’t many to begin with.”

He took her to the observation lounge. They sat at a small table near the huge, curved, transparent wall where the stars shone like a carelessly scattered bag of diamonds, and the great, blue sphere of Earth drew the eye. It still amazed Jeff with its pure beauty. From here, it looked unsullied, as if man had never touched it. The night side would be scattered with lights, echoing the surrounding stars, but the day side appeared as pristine as it must have been on the day of its birth.

“It’s beautiful,” Lark said. “It doesn’t look very different from Denahault.”

“Not from here.” He reached across the table to take her hand because he wanted more than anything in that moment to touch her. “From the ground, it’s a different story.”

“You’ll be with me.”

Her trusting smile humbled and frightened him. How could he promise to protect her from dangers she couldn’t imagine? But he would promise, and he’d do the best he could.

“I’ll be with you as much as I can.”

It seemed an appropriate time. He slipped his free hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew a small velvet box. Gently, he laid it on the table. He’d bought it earlier in the

day at one of the space station’s newer shops, on an impulse, as he’d tried to work his way around the delicate dilemma Lark presented.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Open it.”

She withdrew her hand from his and picked up the soft, maroon box. He tried not to be impatient as she caressed the velvet, sliding her fingers around the small object as if it were something wonderful and new. He supposed it was to her. Another woman would have ignored the box entirely, bent on discovering the contents. Her admiration of it made his heart warm.

Finally she tipped the lid upward. He studied her face for a reaction, but saw only a small reflective frown. After a moment, she looked up. “Rings?”

“Yes.”

“They’re very pretty.” He could tell from her tone she was waiting for him to explain the rings’ significance, or if they had any at all.

“Call them promise rings,” he said finally. “I thought about having a contract drawn up, but you said you didn’t want that. So I got the rings instead, as a symbol of my promise to take care of you and be with you for as long as you want to be with me.” He paused, then took the plunge. “And to love you.”

Tears glittered through her smile. She pulled the larger ring out of the box. “Give me your hand.”

He held out his hand, suddenly conscious of the three or five other people in the room, the sudden silence that had fallen. He didn’t want to look up. He should have taken her back to his quarters for this, made it a private moment. But she seemed unaware of anyone but him as she slid the ring over his finger. Then she handed him the velvet box, and he slid the matching ring over her left ring finger. From elsewhere in the lounge came applause. Embarrassed, he tried not to look, but Lark, grinning, stood and took a bow. “They’re happy for us,” she said, sitting back down.

He dared a sidelong glance, barely meeting a variety of warm smiles. “Yes, I think they are.” He kissed her hand, looking at the silver filigree ring, the way it fit her finger, how right it looked. “I love you, Lark.”

“I love you, Star Man.” She leaned across the table and kissed him. “Take me back to my room.”

She barely let the door close behind them before she was in his arms, her mouth finding his, her hands finding their way under his shirt. So much for a slow seduction, he thought. Then he quit thinking entirely and lost himself in her enthusiasm. He’d made love to more experienced women, but never one with such exuberance. She kissed him hard and long, following his lead as his tongue found hers and danced with it. Her lithe, warm body responded to his every move until they were hot and bare and stretched across the bed that seemed huge after the narrow shipboard berths . It was far too late to turn back now, and he didn’t want to. If he could have everything he wanted in his life, it would be this woman and the Starchild. She stretched long and sleek beneath him and he explored her with his hands, cupping her breasts, feeling the curves of her ribs, tracing the round tattoo beneath her right arm. Her skin was milky in places where the sun had never touched it, brownish and marked with tiny scars in other places where sunlight and the forest had left their signs. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful as the thorn-scratches on her ankles, or the odd blue-black mandala under her arm.

Then his fingers moved between her legs, found her hot and damp. Her hips jerked as he explored, tracing each fold, resting his fingers a moment against the evidence of her virginity. He hoped he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Have you done this before?” he asked, his voice quiet, strained with the effort of self-control. His erection grazed her legs, steely and insistent, while he forced himself to ignore it.

“Not with a partner,” she answered. The image of her pleasuring herself sent all the blood rushing from his head. He couldn’t think anymore. Instead, he moved his fingers away from her heat and put his mouth to her.

Lark was far from ignorant about sex, but she’d never anticipated this. She knew how her body worked, knew what caused pleasure and what brought the deep, pulsing fire. But what she’d discovered on her own was nothing compared to what Jeff coaxed out of her now.

She held still, letting herself feel. Jeff’s mouth and hands teased her for a time, then he shifted his body over her, his mouth on her breasts. She slid her hands down his back, reveling in the smoothness of his skin, excited by the tension beneath it. She knew he held back, also knew he had no reason to. Lowering her hands to his hips, she shifted under him, opening her thighs until his thick erection nudged against her.

“It’s all right,” she whispered.

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