Kinn

by Susan Hayes

  Hands out to his sides, he took a step back and then another before turning.

  “Lord Tane, I didn’t see you there.”

  The deadliest being on the entire planet made a slight nod to Kinn but never took his eyes off the Mother Superior. “I have warned you not to antagonize my alphas, Ariadne.”

  “I was not the one doing the antagonizing.” She smoothed a hand over her white blonde hair, her face a neutral mask once more. “But as the Lord Healer has reason to be unsettled, I forgive him.”

  Kinn had to bite his tongue to keep from reminding the female that she was in no position to forgive anyone. “The Fade. Tell me what you know.”

  She raised her hands in a gesture of elegant surrender. “I already have. They make a choice, Healer. Serena has made hers.” Her eyes met his for the briefest moment. “The only thing that might stop it is if you give her what she needs. I can’t be sure, though. None of your kind have ever willingly made that choice.”

  He looked from Tane to the tiny woman in front of him. “What choice?”

  “Her freedom.” A note in Mother Superior’s voice made him feel like a small child once again, one who had missed the obvious lesson.

  “Freedom?” He shook his head. She couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. “As in, to not be my omega anymore? That’s—” he looked to Tane. “That’s ridiculous! The bond cannot be broken. It would kill her!”

  “As opposed to what is happening now?” She glanced pointedly over her shoulder at the closed door to the room Serena still sat in.

  The Lord Overseer shook his head. “The bond is unbreakable. It’s always been this way. Once claimed, an omega and her alpha are bound for life.” Tane touched his chest. “And for every life thereafter. It is our way.”

  “And it was our way to be allowed to make our own choices.” The Mother Superior bowed in a surprisingly elegant and formal motion to the Lord Overseer. “But ways change. I have given you what advice I can, Healer T’kinn. Do I have permission to depart?”

  “Not yet.” Tane cocked his head in a way that made Kinn glad he wasn’t the one the overseer was looking at so intently. “What do you know about the membrane T’kinn found on Serena’s foot? The one that seems to allow omegas to hide their nature from us?”

  “I have no idea what you mean. What membrane?” The expression on Mother Superior’s face didn’t change. Not by so much as a minute muscle tic. Her blue eyes, as serene as a mountain lake, looked back at them, wide and free of guile.

  Tane sighed, the sound filled with a rattle of frustration. The hairs on the back of Kinn’s neck rose. That was not a good sound to hear the Lord Overseer make. Ever.

  “Kinn, you may depart to care for your omega.”

  He couldn’t leave the beta here with the lord, not with the tension mounting in the small space. She knew more about this Fade than he did, information that would be lost if Tane killed the woman. “My lord, I think I shou—”

  “Go! Now!” Tane’s voice rose to a near roar. “Ariadne, you will stay.”

  Interestingly, the woman hadn’t flinched, not even in the face of the overseer’s anger, whereas Kinn knew to withdraw. Quickly. It might be his healing hall, but it was Lord Tane’s citadel.

  “She is just through here. I will take her another way.” He thumped his fist to his chest in salute to the overseer, nodded to the Mother Superior, and entered the room where Serena waited.

  She hadn’t moved.

  He took her hand, which was cool and slack in his. “Come, little star. It’s time for you to eat.”

  “Yes, my alpha.” The words rang hollow in his ears. He was her alpha, and he was losing her. Worse. He was losing them both.

  “You know more than you’re telling us. Don’t you, Ariadne?”

  Frustration rolled through Tane as he stalked toward the tiny human female in front of him. As always, she looked down demurely, her hands folded in front of her. He growled, the sound low and dangerous, wanting to rattle that damned calm she wore around her like the blue robes of her faith and calling.

  He stood in front of her, willing her to look up at him and meet his eyes with those blue pools of her own. She rarely looked him directly in the eye, but he lived for the days she did, and often deliberately rattled her to get her to do so. Today was not one of those days.

  “I have always been honest with you, Lord Overseer.” She didn’t look up at him, but her voice changed so a hint of a smile was buried in the words.

  “When I ask you a direct question, yes.” And that was one source of his frustration. She would answer his questions, but he had to guess which ones would be useful. He only tolerated her behavior because she was important to the humans. Her being in the citadel was a declaration of his intent to do better than the L’crav. It was also insurance against the humans trying another foolish attack.

  He pulled the wickedly curved knife Rath had given him out of his pocket and showed it to her. “You’ve never mentioned these before. Your people call it a mercy. Don’t you think that was something I needed to know?”

  She shrugged her slender shoulders. “The L’crav knew. Didn’t they tell you?”

  He bit back his growl. If the L’crav had known, they hadn’t seen fit to share it with the H’thor and therein lay the problem. He was fighting a battle on two fronts—the human resistance and the memories of what the other clan had done here, the untold damages they had wreaked on the human population. But to admit that would make him look weak, and he refused to look weak even in front of one insignificant beta female.

  He stepped forward, crowding her space and making her back up against the stone wall of the corridor. Her startled look flicked up to his face but then darted away again before their eyes met. Then her back was against the wall, and he was so close her body heat beat at his skin.

  “You’re not afraid,” he murmured, leaning in to run his nose along the side of her throat. He scented her but didn’t touch her. He stood so close he felt the small hitch in her breathing and heard her swallow nervously.

  She was nervous. Good. She should be.

  “Yes. I’m afraid,” she murmured. “You’re an alpha. Only someone who was insane wouldn’t be scared of you.”

  He stilled and inhaled deeply. Her scent was as it always was. Neutral. Faintly floral but unalluring, and yet there was something about her… “And yet you were antagonizing T’kinn a few moments ago. Defying him. Angering him.” He touched the chain around her neck, sliding one finger under it to lift the holy symbol she wore a bare inch off her flesh. “This won’t protect you from him, Ariadne. Or any other alpha. You must be more careful.” He toyed with the chain some more. “The only thing protecting you from them… is me.”

  Her lips parted on a gasp and she wrapped her fingers around the symbol, something with two crescent moons, the meaning of which he’d never bothered to ask about.

  “My faith does protect me.”

  For a moment he thought she was actually arguing with him. Adrenaline and awareness flooded his veins. Yes! He wanted her to argue, wanted to see something other than the bland mask she always presented him with. He’d seen glimpses of it sometimes—a look or an edge to her voice when she wasn’t careful and in conversation with others when she didn’t think he was near.

  And… he wanted to see more.

  She bowed her head, her body language sliding back to neutral and deferential. “But so do you, my lord, and I am grateful for that.”

  He wanted to snarl, his lip curling back. His words held an edge as he spoke.

  “How grateful?”

  “You are in my prayers each night, Lord Tane.”

  Prayers? He didn’t want her prayers. He wanted… He cut off that line of thought with another snarl. D’warr was right. He should just find a willing beta and slake his pleasure on her like the others did. Only he wasn’t interested in any other betas.

  Just this one.

  He released the chain and moved back a few inches before
changing the subject. “Can you save Kinn’s omega from the Fade?”

  This time, she did meet his gaze for a brief moment. “No. Only he can do that.” She stared down at her hands. “Humans have an expression, Lord Tane. It is said that if you love something, you must set it free. Only if it comes back to you is it truly yours.”

  He frowned. “That makes no sense. If you let something go, it’s gone. If he lets his omega go, they will both die. One cannot exist without the other.”

  “And that is the difference between our species, my lord.” She looked, tilting her head to the side with a frown on her face. “You said they would both die? Why? T’kinn is an alpha. They do not suffer the Fade.”

  He hesitated. This was knowledge the humans didn’t have, and he was loath to give it to someone who might use it against them someday. “They do not suffer if the mating bond is weak. The L’crav do not appear to have formed any lasting attachments with their omegas. But in the case of a true bond…” He inclined his head to the door Kinn had left through. “When one alpha is called by the scent of his omega? That is a different thing. If Kinn has truly bonded to Serena, he is unlikely to survive their separation. To experience that… it drives us mad.”

  “But he might survive. Whereas I can assure you, she will not survive here. Neither she nor the baby will live.”

  He sighed. “I hoped it would not come to this. Once he realizes, he will perform the Iratzi Tarn to save her.”

  She tilted her head to the side, interest lighting her eyes. “The Iratzi Tarn? What is that?”

  “The Leavetaking. The ritual suicide of a warrior.” He paused, studying her expression carefully. “He will take his own life to free her from the bond.”

  The reaction was barely there. Her eyes widened and her lips thinned, but it was gone so quickly he almost missed it. “He would do that? For an omega?”

  “For his omega and his child, yes.” He leaned over her. “Or do you think your people are the only ones strong enough to make sacrifices for the good of others? We are H’thor. We have honor!”

  He surged forward, slamming his hands to either side of her head on the wall hard enough to crack the stone.

  “More than that, little female,” he murmured. “We are what it means to be alpha. We protect our omegas, always. Even if it means we must die. Understand now?”

  8

  He could feel Serena slipping away with each and every breath. Kinn’s throat thickened, the big warrior healer fighting back the prickle of tears as he held his precious omega wrapped in his arms. He savored the feeling, knowing it was the last time he would hold her as the sun rose. The last time he would wake with her in his embrace. That wasn’t strictly true. The last time he’d woken with her in his arms was yesterday because he hadn’t slept after carrying her to his bed. He hadn’t wanted to lose even a fraction of the time he had left with her to something as mundane as sleep.

  So he’d held her. Parthed. Told her she was beautiful and that if she remembered nothing else, he wanted her to remember him with kindness.

  It was all arranged. She could return to her people. To her sister. The Mother Superior would see to it. There was a letter for her, a declaration that she was under the Lord Overseer’s personal protection as well as his own. It should safeguard both her and their child.

  A child he would never see.

  Everything he was screamed in protest at what he was about to do, but he had no other choice. If he kept her close so he could protect her, she’d die. His beautiful, stubborn xarthing little star would let go of this life rather than accept her new role.

  He had to let her go.

  The sun rose, the golden light streaming through the window announcing his time was up. “Serena. It’s time to wake.” He kissed her cheek, allowing himself one last moment of tenderness when no one was there to witness it. Not even his omega. She hadn’t truly been aware of anything for a day now.

  “You’re going to see your family soon. You want that. Don’t you?”

  She didn’t answer him, no life in her eyes when she opened them. He smiled, the expression bittersweet as he reached out and brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. It was almost bearable if he told himself it was a visit. That she would be back in a few days. And in his mind, in another time or parallel universe, that’s what would happen. She would come back to him, happy and filled with sass and they would live out their lives together.

  “Come on, little star,” he murmured, helping her up out of bed so she could get dressed. He locked each moment away in his memory and cherished the seconds until they were gone.

  He opened the door to find Mother Superior waiting in the corridor outside. Her expression was different. Surprised. Sympathetic. Approving. He didn’t even rail at the last one. He didn’t need anyone’s approval, much less some beta human’s. But… he couldn’t bring himself to snarl at her and remind her of her place.

  “Thank you,” the priestess said in a low voice. “I really didn’t think you would do it.”

  He nodded, the movement sharp. “I am alpha. The wellbeing and happiness of my omega is all.”

  She nodded. “I’m beginning to see that.”

  “I don’t want to know where you’re taking her or when she will leave. I am trusting you to protect her.” He ground his teeth. “I may ask you that later. If things…” He shook his head. “Don’t tell me. In fact, I suggest you stay far away until I am gone.”

  The beta nodded. “She will be safe. You have my word.”

  “Then go before I change my mind.” He placed Serena’s hand in Ariadne’s and walked away. He barely managed to get the door closed before the change took him.

  He embraced it. The door wouldn’t open again until Tane himself unlocked it. He needed to be alone. And if he destroyed everything he owned, it likely wouldn’t matter soon. He had never felt like this in his life. He never would again. She was his truly bonded omega, and without her, his mind would crack.

  It had already started.

  Hours later his memory returned in scattered patches. Lord Tane unlocked the door, no expression on his face as he recovered Kinn from the destroyed apartment. He drank with the lord and his brother warriors as they toured all of the bars in the citadel, downing pint after pint of ja’tyr. He drank so much that his body, usually able to metabolize any alcohol within minutes, couldn’t keep up. He was drunk, dead drunk, and… singing?

  Each time he came to, he was in a different bar but with an awareness of the inexorable march of time. The night faded into the early morning and he took a deep breath as the last sweaty, smoke-filled bar faded into an alley and finally under the rising sun at the edge of the ritual arena at the center of the citadel.

  He sighed, the breath leaving his lungs as he tilted his head up so the sunlight fell on his face. His last sunrise. The slight breeze washed over his cheeks. They were wet. It wasn’t raining.

  Lord Tane stood in front of him. The overseer was dressed in full court regalia.

  It was time. The Iratzi Tarn hadn’t been performed in… Kinn couldn’t recall the information. He’d known it once. Had even looked it up while he was making preparations, but it was gone now. His mind was unraveling. Facts and memories were vanishing like mist in the morning sun. If he didn’t do this today, nothing would be left of him by sundown. T’kinn the healer would be gone, consumed by the rage that boiled within him. Soon he’d become untethered. Later, he’d be unstoppable—a wild animal that would have to be put down.

  This way was better. He would still have his honor, and Serena would have her life.

  Jaxx and Warr stood on either side of him, supporting him and keeping him upright. He vaguely recalled they’d been doing it for hours, guiding him from bar to bar, leading the songs and toasts that celebrated his life. Every battle. Every honor. Even now, they were being marked in the fireworks being set off around the arena. The story had been told across the city. And now, it was time for it to end.

  He stra
ightened, looking Tane in the eyes.

  “Are you ready, warrior?” Tane asked.

  “I am ready.” Kinn thumped his fist to his bare chest. When had he lost his shirt? “It has been an honor to serve, my Lord Overseer.”

  Tane’s expression tightened, a small muscle ticcing in the corner of his jaw. “The honor has been mine, brother,” he said, returning Kinn’s salute. “Go in peace. Enter the halls of Kranov and claim your reward.”

  It was all Kinn could do to nod. Then he turned to walk to the stone block in the middle of the sand. Warriors lined the path, fists crashing against their chests as he made the final walk. Time skipped and he found himself kneeling, Jaxx and Warr at either shoulder. They held his blades out, the hilts wrapped in silver ribbon, the Tolathian color of mourning.

  “For you, Serena, my love,” he whispered to himself as he reached out to take the blades, his mind clearer than it had been for hours. Just two strokes and he would free his omega.

  Give his life so that she might live.

  Serena sat at the window of the ratty little room she’d woken up in and watched the sky start to lighten over the city.

  It was the first time in days she had woken willingly. Awareness had poured into her like water into an empty cup. She knew where she was. Who she was. And above all else, she knew she was free. Kinn had let her go.

  Kinn.

  The alpha who had claimed her, held her prisoner, and then for some reason she didn’t understand, had let her go. She touched a hand to her stomach. He’d let them go—his omega and their child.

  The enormity of that stunned her. It didn’t make sense. Didn’t fit with anything she’d ever been told about alphas. They never let omegas go. Yeah, the little voice in the back of her head whispered, and they also passed omegas around between them, knotting them to death.

  That hadn’t happened.