by Candy Nicks
He lifted his hand. Heard the clink of the dangling chain. Behind the hut lay the natural barrier of the mountains and beyond, freedom. Hissing against the pain, he heaved himself upright and stopped to catch a breath.
He should have jumped the man and stolen his clothes, but that would have set him on a path of no return. And disappointed Naima. For all she would be sad to find him gone, he didn't want her thinking her faith in him had been in vain.
He cocked his head and listened, mapping out the room in his mind. Bright sunlight made it impossible for him to see more than a blurred haze and the effort of standing and wrapping himself in the sheet left nothing for his wolf.
With a palm flat to the wall, he felt his way to the door and groped for the handle. Not locked. Good, he hadn't wanted to break it. However this looked, he remained grateful for the care he'd received here. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he fought to stay upright. He wiped it away with a forearm. Forcing his wolf forward, he glanced around the lobby area, located the outer door and lurched towards it.
Fire burned in his chest. His wild brothers would look after him. Help him heal—if he could reach them. On his journey here, he'd been aware of first their curiosity, then their quiet support and protection as they shadowed him.
"Help me,” he said through clenched teeth. “I'm one of your own. Help me."
Nothing. He made a fist and took out his frustration on the wooden wall of the hut, his rage turning him into an angry mixture of wolf and man. His pounding soon grew weaker and the sheet, now spotted with his blood, clung to his chest. Sliding down the wall on rubbery legs, he slumped back, at least feeling purged of the anger and frustration. Why had the Goddess allowed him a life if she had no use for him other than as a freak-show? He'd never understood her motives.
"Give me strength,” he said raising his eyes heavenward. “A sign of some reason to all this. Otherwise, what's the point?"
Finn turned his eyes to the sound of the key scraping in the front door lock, the hinges squeaking. The door opening. Footsteps. First he was a wolf, cornered and about to spring. A split second later a man, relieved that it was Naima. He caught her scent, made out the outline of her body. Heard the horrified gasp of surprise when she saw him slumped by the wall.
"Finn?” Her tone held both censure and question. As if she were chastising a wayward child. One she cared for deeply. “Finn,” she said.
The question remained unspoken. Of course he was crazy; she didn't have to say it.
"If the Goddess sent you, tell her the answer's no."
Naima crouched before him. “Oh Finn."
Her tone held such heartbreak. Whether for him, or herself, he didn't know. With her there, escape was irrelevant. The mountains much too far away. He groped for her hand, locking them together, palm to palm. The way she squeezed back told him she at least understood something of his reluctance to help Carine.
"You can't let anyone find you like this. Please understand. You must go back to bed and let me shackle you."
Cool fingers touched his hair, his face. He rubbed his cheek hard against her hand, voraciously lapping up every crumb of comfort. In her, he'd made a leap of faith, and the time had come to trust in his decision.
"Are you my jailer,” he said. “Or my freedom?” His nostrils twitched at the scent of tears. He heard her sniff and his wolf, curious to investigate the sight of someone crying for him, rather than because of him, came slowly forward.
"I think I'm both,” she said. “If you leave in this state, you won't survive."
"My brothers will look after me."
"Are you being followed?"
"Yes.” The tenderness in her expression stirred some far-off memory. His heart constricted and he reached out, wanting more.
"The bounty-hunters won't give up. Can you stand? You'll be safe here, Father won't let them get to you."
"You want me to stay?"
"I want you to be safe."
"That's not what I asked. I'll stay if you want me to. Give me a reason to stay. Otherwise, let me go. I'll take my chances with them, up there on the mountain."
The silence lasted too long. Her conflict, too obvious.
"I just want a life. I can't help your friend,” he said, angered at having allowed himself to believe in her. He growled softly at her lack of response. “Fine. Don't make me hurt you. Get out of my way and let me go."
"Finn, don't be angry with me. It's not about what I want. I love Carine, and I owe her everything."
The tears remained, shining like stars in her blurred eyes, in her wavering voice.
"I've already told her, I can't help. She thinks the Goddess sent me here for her. It's a false hope. Now get out of my way."
"No, don't go."
Her sudden movement panicked his wolf. It snapped, jerking him forward with a snarl, making Naima recoil.
"I'm not afraid of you,” she said, the words sounding braver than her voice. “I don't believe you'd hurt me. There might be a way for you to help Carine and live the life you've always wanted. We'll never know unless you stay with us and heal."
Another snarl. This time she held her ground. The scent of her overwhelmed his senses as she moved closer into his space. Vainly, he struggled to win the battle of wills, already knowing he'd lose. Her words beguiled him. Made him believe he might somehow have it all. Her cheek, wet with tears, brushed his and her nearness stole all of his resistance. All that mattered was now, he realised. No use in worrying about a future that may, or may not happen.
"Naima, forget Carine, your father. All of them,” he said. “Pretend they don't exist. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes."
"Now, you're free. Tell me what you really want. Show me."
* * * *
"I want to see you healed.” One look at him and her resolutions turned to dust.
"You have that power."
"I have?"
"I came back for you, Naima. I'll stay in this life, for you. What else do you want?"
"To be with you."
"You're with me now."
"Yes.” She glanced at the door. Outside, the world went about its business. Her father worrying, Carine hoping. Kandar waiting. The space inside the room became a private bubble of existence removed from the ebb and flow of life. Finn, with his steady, challenging gaze, held her there and dared her to imagine a different kind of life.
"I want to kiss you.” No longer afraid, she kept her movements measured and slow, mindful of his poor sight and wounded chest. There was healing in touch. The way he moved into the kiss, first with a light brush of the lips, then catching her by the shoulder and pulling her in, his mouth pressing harder, firmer, showed her what her love would do for him. She'd walk to the ends of the world for another kiss like that. Luckily, she didn't have to. Finn stopped only for a panting breath before kissing her again, his tongue, not gentle, but demanding pushing hard against hers.
The strength left her in a rush, and a sweet, sharp ache pulsed low in her belly. Groping for his hand, she pressed his palm to her stomach and pushed it downwards, groaning into his mouth at the tidal wave of lust that had hit from nowhere. Now she understood his urgency. Life waited outside the door to resume its relentless path. Here there was only Finn, taking her to a place from which she must, eventually, return.
Please, not yet. She caught his fever and ground against his seeking fingers, her lips pressed to his.
Finn's mouth slid from hers, his breath heaving. “Can smell you,” he said. “Feel how wet you are. You've no idea how much I want to fuck you."
The words turned her backbone liquid. Made her feel as if it had slithered from her skin and her whole body crumbled away. “I want to,” she said, her voice rough with desire. “Your injuries..."
"Open your pants."
Without hesitation, she rocked back onto her heels and yanked at the fastenings hindered, rather than helped, by his impatient fingers tangling with hers. A faint rumble of thunder, high over the mount
ains, caught her attention. Finn heard it too, hesitating briefly before renewing his efforts to touch her. Another, louder rumble released the rain, which came down in a deafening torrent, beating at the roof and windows of the hut. The short-lived, violent spring storms would have everyone scurrying for cover, giving her a little more time out of the real world. Time she'd have to pay back, one day.
I will, I promise. She hadn't realised how all-consuming love could be. How reckless or how bold it made you. How selfish. If not for Carine, this could be hers for all time. His fingers pushed inside her, deep and intimate as his mouth found hers and sucked the breath and the cries of relief from her body.
"Cavita aro, Naima."
His mouth slid from hers, leaving a wet trail over her cheek-bones, murmuring, nipping at the skin below her jaw. The words were dark and rich and whatever they meant, the answer was already yes.
Blue lightning lit the room, like a camera singling out one moment for immortality and freezing it forever in the memory. Finn's raven hair, edged with radiant light. The sound of his wheezing lungs giving her everything they had. The unfamiliar words spoken with such possessive passion.
She clutched at his shoulders, feeling the beaded braids of his hair trapped beneath her cheek, and let herself go. The storm outside would pass just as quickly as this one. The sun would come out and the leaves and flowers unfurl. People would creep from their shelters and homes to view the world with new eyes, for it would not be the same world as before.
Naima sat back on her heels, a hand resting on Finn's shoulder. His wolf-eyes glowed in the aftermath of passion. A smear of blood stained his lip. Had she done that? The sheet, spotted with more blood, clung to his chest. He'd used up all of his reserves on her. Asked nothing for himself. Now, she must get him cleaned up and manacled. The world was rushing back with a vengeance.
"If not for them,” she said. “This is what I would choose. Let me put you back to bed."
Finn refused to move when she curled an arm around his back and encouraged him to stand.
"Choose me,” he said, his tone urgent and demanding. “Be my mate. Can't you feel how much we were meant to be?"
"Finn, come back to bed. Yes, I feel it."
"I'll love you for life. Protect you."
"You belong to the Goddess. She has plans for you."
"Stuff the Goddess! She doesn't care for me or your friend. You said I might have it all. What did you mean?"
"I said it to get you back to bed. See how you've re-opened your wounds. I don't want them to fester with infection."
After the heat of passion, the cold practicality of saving him hit her like a frigid shower. Finn's expression clouded with puzzlement at her change of tone. Unsteadily, he levered himself to his feet.
"I don't believe you. Kiss me and I'll go back."
Despite his injuries, he was stronger. His grip held her in place. So did his resolve. While she struggled to balance her desires with doing the right thing, he, untroubled by conscience, already knew what he wanted.
One more kiss. She swayed towards him, lips already tingling in anticipation. What harm would one more kiss do? Apart from lead to another, and another?
His lips were sweet and gentle, like the kind of kiss she imagined a couple would share when the first blaze of passion had died down. A concession, of sorts and, strangely, far more intimate than anything that had passed between them. He fixed her with a stare, a flash of something otherworldly lighting his amber gaze. Ran a finger down her plaited hair. Those eyes of his, the creature he kept inside, would watch her, unblinking, for an eternity and beyond.
"I'll come with you,” she said. “We'll find the Soul Cleansing Stones together. Bring them back for Carine."
"And out-run the bounty-hunters, and your father. Only to find the Stones don't exist. I'm tired of running. Tired of being used. No more, Naima. This is where I stop. Where I stand and fight for what I want."
"You need to get better. Regain your strength."
"There must be a place for me, somewhere. Help me find it."
"You're not moving until I agree?” She couldn't help smiling at the sight of him, bloodied, but unbowed. The light of a million possibilities glowing from every fibre of his being.
"This is where I die,” he said. “On this very spot. Unless you agree to be my mate."
"Your mate? And if I say yes, you'll go back to bed?"
"If you say yes, and kiss me again.” The corners of his mouth twitched in a tentative smile of encouragement. “Where are you?” he said, groping for her, palms outstretched like a blind man.
"Here.” She'd renewed her hold on him, concern evident in her voice, before she realised his smile had turned decidedly smug.
"You know where I am,” she said, throwing it back at him. “You may kiss me and in return I'll make sure no one knows of this.” She touched the dangling manacle chain.
The kiss took her right back to the beginning. A man and a woman with something undeniable between them. Both of them anxious to know more and see where it might take them.
No, not simply a man. She had yet to discover what he kept inside of him. And whether she could cope with the revelation.
Wife? Mate? If you loved someone, did it matter what you called it?
Finn lay back on the bed, obediently offering the wrist bearing the broken manacle. Neither of them spoke as she replaced it with one she'd taken from the armoury. Re-shackling him felt like a betrayal. Take his chances with the wolves or stay with her? Who knew which would be better.
With her. Whether she wanted it or not they'd made a decision, of sorts, although the practicalities didn't bear thinking about.
One step at a time, she told herself. While he lay immobile and resolute, she fixed his bandage. Found him a clean sheet and fed him painkillers, all the while trying to remember a time when her whole life wasn't focused on the person in this room.
He'd already crept so far into her heart that she couldn't.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 7
"It's lovely, Kandar."
"Keep it."
Naima handed back the intricately tooled leather belt. Hand-crafted, natural products were as good as credits in the City. “I can't take this,” she said. “Although it's a kind thought. You'll need it for the trading fair. I've just seen the first wagons setting up camp outside the walls. Which reminds me, I must go and sort out the herbs. The taraga was popular last time. I think I might double the crop this year."
"Naima."
"And Aphrodisia. Unsurprisingly, that always does well."
"Naima, stop.” Kandar tossed the belt onto his kitchen table and, in two strides, moved to block the open doorway with his huge body.
"Never mind the belt.” He pointed to a chair. “Sit. Please."
Naima assessed her chances of making it to the gate without being caught and decided this conversation might as well take place. She edged her way to the chair and lowered herself, taken aback by Kandar's implacable stance. The tense muscle in his jaw, the strained expression, told her how thin his patience had become. His unbound hair fell in glossy waves to his waist. His powerful arms and shoulders bulged against his sleeveless tunic. Every bit the Eagle warrior. Everything Ancel wanted for her.
Satisfied she wasn't about to bolt, he closed the door and pulled out a seat for himself. Naima sat, unmoving, her back pressed into the chair he'd made with his own hands and waited for him to broach the subject she'd been so desperate to avoid.
"Naima,” he said in a voice even deeper than her father's. “I would speak to you with my heart. Will you listen?"
"What?” A wave of panic hit her. “No Kandar, don't."
"Naima, watch for me and listen for me. I will be in every sunrise and in every sunset. I will be the wind in the trees and the soft rain falling in your hair. I claim you as my own. For all of this life, until death us do part. Will you do the same for me?"
The words droned out, one after the
other with no space in between. She listened with a sinking heart to the marriage vows of the tribes of the Eagle. If she chose to repeat them back to him, it would be so and their betrothal would be set. Finally, he stopped talking and stared at the table, his finger picking out the swirling wood-grain.
"All you need to is repeat—"
"I know.” Panic made her snap the words back at him. “I know,” she said, more gently. “I'm really sorry. I can't."
"You need more time?” He spoke as if trying to convince himself rather than her.
"No, I don't need more time. I admire and respect you, Kandar. I just don't love you."
"Love is something that will grow. Your father approves of this match. Everyone expects it.” He grabbed one of her hands between both of his and she saw him swallow hard.
"I want to father your children, Naima. Gods, how I want to father your children. Let me show you how much I want to."
"Kandar!” Naima snatched away her hand, praying that the temporary madness shining in his eyes would evaporate as quickly as it had appeared.
"How could you say such things?"
"His bark of laughter made her start. “Oh, that's rich coming from you. Hiding behind propriety now?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Then why do you blush?” He leaned forward, the better to see the guilt displayed so openly on her face. “You think we don't see what's going on? Have you lost all sense of decorum? Would you like a lecture on proper behaviour befitting an Eagle maiden?"
"My answer is no. Accept it with good grace.” She rose and faced him. “What's come over you?"
"You have.” He rose too, arms braced, hands gripping the edge of the table. “It's all planned. I built this house, made the furniture. The marital bed. All for you."
Pride kept him in place, his expression set in stone. She could only imagine the turmoil behind the mask.
"You'll make some woman a wonderful husband one day.” Her voice trailed away to a whisper. “Just not me."
"I'll need to tell your father."
"He already knows I intended to refuse you. He will not force me to marry."