by Kama Spice
Sehra fumed. “I understand enough,” she said quietly. “I understand gold coins and I understand greed.”
Her father stood, clenching his fists. “What did you say?”
Her mother’s eyes widened in alarm. “Sehra, mind your words!”
Sehra continued. “I understand pride and arrogance too, Father.”
“Watch yourself, little cub,” her father said. His voice was deadly. “You know not the trap you’re laying for yourself.”
“That’s what you do, isn’t it, Father?” she asked. The words were tumbling out of their own volition. She knew she was indeed sealing whatever fate her father had in mind for her, but she would not go into it without a fight. “You lay beautiful, enticing traps for people to walk into. I’ve seen you do it since I was little. You’ve become a master…”
She didn’t even see the backhand coming. It connected with her face like the clap of dry thunder over the pridelands.
Her scream, followed by Mother’s, reverberated throughout the den.
“One mating with a wretched Copper and this insolence becomes second nature?” His voice was smooth as silk. “You will not set foot outside this den until I make plans to move your Uniting Ceremony sooner. Say farewell to your mother. Once you are securely installed in your new pride, you will not see her again. And you will not return here.”
Sehra looked at the blood on her hand where she had touched the corner of her mouth. The side of her face throbbed and she knew there would be a bruise there soon. But she felt no pain. She squinted up at him from where she’d fallen as she reeled from his blow.
“I know why Rawa left now,” she said softly. “If his father was a hundred of you rolled up into one Lith’han, I’d have left far sooner than he.”
Her father looked as if he might strike her again but seemed to think better of it. He clenched his fists at his sides and marched to the entrance of the den. “I am nothing like that Copper’s father,” he said through gritted teeth. “Everything I’ve done, I did for you and your brothers. And I will not stop now.”
After he left, the only sound in the den was the sound of Mother sobbing softly into her hands.
Sehra reached for a small cloth and dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “How could you sit there and let him do that?” she asked, her body finally giving in to the trembling it had been holding back.
“You were insolent, Sehra,” her mother said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “You should never talk to your father in that tone. He only wants the best for you.”
“That’s not true and you know it, Mother. He wants what’s best for him. If it was about me, he would take my wants and desires into consideration. He did not even once ask me what I wished for.”
Her mother tightened her lips. “We could smell your wants and wishes on that blanket, Sehra. Your father is right. Mating with a Copper will not help you become stronger in your abilities. His are merely physical gifts—yours…yours are special. They are gifts directly from the stars. The ancestors selected us and those of higher lineages to wield these gifts because we are worthy. Theirs is a wisdom beyond our comprehension.”
Sehra stared at her mother. “You know Rawa!” she yelled. “You know what a heart he has, how he saved me from killing myself on many an occasion when we were young! You loved him like a son, Mother.” She jutted her chin out, daring her mother to deny it.
“I did,” her mother said sadly. “But that does not change the fact he is of the Copper lineage. And it does not change the way things are.”
“But look at the Leader King Valren and the Silver Kessa Lyah!” she blurted. “They are of different lineages.”
“They are both of high lineages,” her mother corrected. “Those of higher lineages intermingle freely, Sehra, you know that.” She stood and walked to where Sehra was leaning against the rock wall of their den. “My sweet,” she said, tilting Sehra’s face toward her. “We want you to become part of those higher circles. You could become a Leader Queen someday, or even sit on the Council…you would raise our lineage and our den in particular to heights we can’t even imagine.” Her eyes glittered with excitement. “Everyone would know our name. We would mingle with the likes of Silvers and Emeralds!” She paused to tuck a lock of hair behind Sehra’s ear. “You have a stronger gift than both your father and I, and either of your brothers,” she said, searching Sehra’s face. “Don’t you see, my child? Don’t you see why it is so important to nurture your gift?”
Sehra clamped her mouth shut. No, she didn’t see. She didn’t see how her mother could be so blind. That, in all of the arguments she presented in defense of Father and his decisions, not a single one referred to love. For the first time in all her life, Sehra wondered if Mother had ever loved Father. And if she hadn’t, why had she chosen to make her True Mate vow to him?
* * * * *
Sehra knew Father had protectors posted all throughout the pridelands. She was using her gift—the same gift her mother and father thought was so special they were willing to sell their only daughter to the first higher lineage male to come calling. Sehra gingerly touched the side of her face. If she were Rawa, she would have healed already.
Hot anger tore through. What made her “gift” more important exactly?
She closed her eyes again, searching the pridelands with her thoughts. Oh mighty Ancients, grant me but a drop of the light of the stars above so this daughter of Onyx lineage may See.
The wind whipped up around her, even though she was in a quiet part of the den, far into the mountainside. Whispers filled her ears, conversations from long ago flowing like rivers into and out of one another. Words from her ancestors.
Sehra threw the first question into the deep well of Knowledge. “Where is Rawa?” she asked in the silence of her mind.
Nearby.
“Is he well?”
He is as yet unharmed.
She paused, knowing she wasn’t supposed to ask questions about the future. The gift wasn’t meant to predict, only to guide. But she asked anyway. “Is he my True Mate?”
He is.
Sehra’s heart expanded in her chest.
But then, He isn’t.
“Which one is it?”
It is both.
She sighed in frustration. Very well then. She would have to play by the rules. She thought carefully about her next question.
“Why did Mother make the vow with Father?”
There was no response.
Sehra tried again. “Did Mother love Father when she made her True Mate vow?”
No.
As much as she’d suspected that to be true, Sehra was still taken aback. “Then why did she do it?”
There was a long pause. Just when Sehra thought she would get no response, an answer came through.
She was born of mixed lineage. Her mother was an Onyx descendent and her father was Yellow. Her mother never made a vow, but had your mother. She swore, when she met your father’s family that her cub was of full Onyx lineage. It would secure her place in the pride and she would become a respected elder as a result.
Sehra yanked herself out of the trance. She took huge gulps of air as she fought to regulate her pulse. Her mother, a Yellow? How could that be? Did her father know?
As hard as she tried to go back to the well, she couldn’t relax enough. She kept hitting a solid wall until she finally gave up on searching for answers.
Right before she fell into the clutches of a tormented sleep, Sehra let her thoughts go back to the lovemaking from the night before. She imagined herself with Rawa, licking the thin, soft skin on the insides of his thighs. She pictured his beautiful body, long and lean, with tightly corded muscles rippling beneath skin that gleamed with the sheen of perspiration.
Heat spread through her limbs as she squeezed her thighs together, pressing the palm of one hand against her mound. “Rawa,” she breathed.
She rolled the tight bud of one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and Rawa’s
face flashed through her mind. Her clit pulsed within the folds of her labia as she pressed harder against it.
She turned over onto her stomach, keeping one hand firmly between her legs and rocking against it while the fingers of her other hand teased and squeezed her nipple.
“My love…” she gasped, desperate for her lover’s touch, for his mouth on hers, his skin warm and damp against her.
* * * * *
Rawa lay on the hard, cold floor. He had no idea where the bastards had brought him. They’d bound him with the thick twine from the Mun’hai tree and covered him with a dark blanket before throwing him over the back of a large Lith’hah form as they walked for what seemed like a full day. But he had no idea what time it was or how long they’d been traveling. He had no sense of his surroundings and no idea where in the pridelands they were.
He was alone for now, that was all he knew. The cave was dark and musty. Somewhere, not too far away, an underground stream burbled past. He had tried to open his senses, but could pick up nothing. They must have brought him to a cave far beneath the ground. Far enough underground that Sehra, even with her gift, would never find me, he thought.
He shifted his weight to his side, cursing when the twine dug deeper into his wrists. Let them all fight me one-on-one like true, honorable Lith’hah, he thought angrily. But of course they never would. He would easily win.
He wanted to laugh at the thought that it took six males to wrangle and transport him away from Sehra. And if he weren’t tied up in an underground cave with Sehra far away and in danger, he would have.
Rawa.
His body tightened. He opened up his senses. “Sehra?” he whispered into the darkness.
Nothing.
But he felt it—feather-soft touches, like soft puffs of air along his legs, moving up, stroking the insides of his thighs. Hot, gentle warmth against his ear, like her breath. He could almost smell her, for Ancients’ sake!
Rawa shook his head. He must be going mad. There was no one in the cave with him, of that he was certain. Even now, with his senses wide open, he knew he was alone. But then what…?
My love…
The touches moved to his stomach, swirling around his bellybutton, up his chest and along the sides of his neck. They were like hot, searing kisses, leaving his skin alive and burning in their wake. His cock hardened as he realized it was her. He didn’t know what she was doing, or how, but he felt her. It was her breath on him—her touch, delivered from however far away she was.
“Sehra,” he whispered again, not knowing if she could hear him.
The touches intensified. Little breaths moving like strokes along his cock, which was thick and hard, desperate for her. He pictured her gorgeous full mouth, breasts that fit perfectly in his hands, the large, brown nipples that puckered into hard beads for him. He moaned as his cock seemed to get swallowed in a moist warmth, stroked rhythmically and steadily until he exploded—his senses full of Sehra.
* * * * *
Rawa coughed as the ice-cold water hit his skin. He thrashed wildly before he remembered where he was. He was dragged to a wall and his hands were secured to a hook above.
“Awake, lover boy?”
Rawa stared, unflinching, into Bylon’s sneering face but said nothing.
“Smelled sex in here when we walked in,” Cylar said with a snort. “Did you have a visitor?”
“Yes,” Rawa tossed, “your mate visited last night. Said you weren’t half the Lith’han she hoped you’d be. Not to worry though. She left fully satisfied.”
A fist connected with his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs, but Rawa did little more than wince.
“You’re skilled, Cylar,” he said, his voice tight as he struggled to catch his breath. “Beating a bound Lith’han. Why don’t you untie me and we’ll see what a real match between the two of us is like?”
Cylar gave him a humorless grin. “Right. Fuck you, Rawa. You always were a cocky bastard.”
“And you both could never win a fair fight.” Rawa said. He raised an eyebrow. “I see you’re using the humans’ curses. Spent any time around them lately? If I remember correctly, your father’s good at providing those opportunities.”
That earned him a boot to the other side—this time from Bylon. “Keep talking about my family, Copper. Before you know it, you’ll be floating in the river, facedown.”
“You’d never get that far, Bylon, and you know it. As soon as I’m free of this twine, your game is over. That’s why you’re keeping it on me.”
“You’ll never get free of the twine,” Bylon said, spitting a berry pit next to Rawa.
Rawa’s stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in over a day.
“By the time that twine comes off you,” he added, “my sister will have taken her vow.”
“As long as I am alive, Sehra will not take the vow,” Rawa said. He knew this for a fact. He felt it from her when they’d bonded—as sure as if she’d spoken the words aloud.
Cylar shrugged. “She will if she believes you dead. She hasn’t mastered her gift enough to find you down here. Or even sense you. She’ll be joined and bonded to Kelum in the Eastern Territories before you can utter your own name. She, and our future as a den, will be bound with the Emerald lineage. We’ll be almost Silver-like in our abilities and influence.”
“We’ll be unified in kinship,” Bylon added, “with an Emerald den—with opportunities at seats on the Council. How could you possibly match that?”
Rawa’s blood boiled, threatening his calm exterior. He struggled to remain still—to not expose any of the rage erupting inside. He concealed his emotions from his captors with great effort and precision. If he failed, they would use the energy against him. All Lith’hah could sense emotions, but only some were skilled enough to mask them. Rawa had known Sehra’s brothers since they were cubs. He knew they couldn’t sense his fury…but they would know it soon enough.
He had to get to Sehra—had to stop her from making the biggest mistake of both their lives. If he had her gift, handed down from the Onyx lineage, he would simply appeal to the Ancients for guidance. But he did not. He had only himself to turn to and his gift of regeneration. He fought back words from the past as they invaded his thoughts—his father’s voice, drunk on bark brew. You’re a useless Copper. So what if you can outrun other Lith’hah, outclimb them and win every battle? What will that do for our den? You were born a useless Copper and you will die a useless Copper.
No. His eyes narrowed into slits as every fiber of his body strained against the restraints. He felt them cut into his flesh and shred his skin. His ankles and wrists burned and throbbed with pain. But still he pulled, quietly focusing his strength until both gave.
Within seconds, he was on all fours, shifting into his cat form.
Bylon cursed, shifting quickly and readying himself for battle while Cylar called out a name and shifted form as well.
Rawa wasted no time. He lunged for Bylon’s throat, sinking his incisors as deep as they would go, tasting the satisfaction of a thirst quenched. He missed the artery he was looking for by less than an inch, but Bylon squealed and collapsed underneath him.
Cylar pounced on Rawa from behind, tearing flesh away from his arm, but Rawa simply shrugged him off and held on to Bylon—clamping his jaws down harder, doing as much damage as he could.
Already, Rawa felt the wounds at his wrists and ankles healing.
Cylar was no match for Rawa’s strength and size, so he didn’t give a second thought to continuing his destruction of Bylon. Besides, it felt so good to have the asshole collapsed underneath him after all the filth that flowed freely from his mouth just moments ago.
But he should have been better prepared.
Two more cats leaped into the cave.
Rawa sprung off Bylon and crouched back, waiting for the pounce.
Bylon dragged himself to a wall where he leaned heavily and shifted back into his human form. He struggled to stop the flow of b
lood from his multiple wounds. “Kill the bastard!” he growled.
Cylar leapt first, grabbing a chunk of Rawa’s arm. The other two cats followed immediately. One clamped down on Rawa’s thigh and the other had Rawa’s throat, close to the spot where Rawa had been grinding Bylon’s flesh but more accurately positioned. If Rawa moved even a hairsbreadth, the other cat’s incisors would slice through his artery.
The cat who had his thigh released it and shifted into human form as well. “We’ll not have his blood on our hands, Bylon. I know he got you good, but if we murder one of our own, the Council will prosecute us to the fullest extent of The Laws.”
The other cat, the one who had Rawa by the throat, slowly pulled his jaws apart and climbed off him. He chuckled after shifting back. “Two of you couldn’t handle this one Copper? No wonder your father has us positioned outside.”
Then he turned to Rawa, who was shifting form and assessing the damage to his neck. “Watch it, Independent. The lieutenant told us you tried to dishonor Sehra. That’s a violation of The Laws and we’re keeping you under custody until the Council decides what to do with you.”
“Dishonor Sehra?” Rawa was astounded. He had to hand it to the lieutenant. He had covered all his bases. Now he had The Laws on his side too. Rawa shook his head. If he wasn’t so pissed off, he would have appreciated the irony of it all.
The two protectors brought in thicker twine and metal cuffs for good measure. They seated Rawa on a metal chair, securing his hands to the chair’s back behind him and his ankles to the chair’s legs. Then they cuffed the chair to metal fastenings in the rock wall.
“You’re not going anywhere, Independent,” the larger of the protectors said. “Even Coppers can’t break through those metal cuffs and heal the damage.”
When they’d left, Cylar helped Bylon up, draping the older man’s good arm over his shoulders.
“You’ll pay for this,” Bylon hissed.
Rawa kept his mouth shut as the two left the cave. With him tied up in here, these boys and their father held Sehra’s fate in their hands. Best not to rattle them any more than he already had. But he couldn’t resist a small smile. That arm on Bylon was badly damaged—the meat and tendons at his shoulders were ground to shreds in Rawa’s powerful jaws. It was a small thing, but it increased Rawa’s odds just the tiniest bit. And he would take whatever leverage he could right now.