“I want to know everything about you, Kasim.” She gave him a wry smile. “Or at least, the parts of yourself you’re willing to share.”
“All right.” His hands trembled and a nervous sweat broke out on his palms. He didn’t pull away and Winter gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. Kasim swallowed down the lump in his throat. “As you know, when my parents died, I went to live with my aunt and uncle. A growing boy with an appetite to match, I place an added burden on their already stretched resources.” He turned his body so he faced Winter front on.
“Looking back now, as an adult, I understand they genuinely loved me. That they were happy to be able to give me a home. But the boy … the child I was saw everything in terms of loss. My parents were gone. I’d been taken from my home, my friends and my village. And while I was very grateful to my aunt and uncle for taking me in, I could only see the downside of them having me in their home. Because of me, there was less food for the family, and their children had less opportunities because my needs had to be taken into account.” He’d felt his mere presence in the house was onerous.
“And you were grieving.”
“Yes.” That grief had never disappeared, but he’d found a way to live with it. “As soon as the weather turned and spring showed her face, I started hunting. I’d learned the art at my father’s knee, and I was as good a shot as any man in the village. I knew how to trap, and where to catch the best game. I could read a trail as though it was written in words. Then, one day—”
His throat closed up, and for a moment he didn’t think he’d be able to continue. Licking his dry lips, he tried to find the spit to swallow. Twice.
“One day, I set up camp in a shallow cave. I was at the back wall stacking my gear when a trapper called out. He asked if I could share my fire and my dinner if he contributed to the pot.” He kept his eyes on Winter, even though he wanted to look away. “The tundra was sparsely populated, but when trappers and hunters ran into each other, it was common enough practice to share a camp.”
“So you had no reason not to trust him.” Her voice was calm, sure, and held no hint of censure.
“No. As I said, it was common practice.” Then his courage failed him, and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Twisting to face forward, he placed his forearms on his thighs and looked down at the floor. “After dinner, we cleaned up. When I went to the back of the cave to put my plate away, he came after me. He hit me hard enough to rattle my brains and I couldn’t get my arms and legs to work.” The dizzying sensation seeped from his memory and filled his body in the here and now. The carpet spun before his eyes and the edges of his vision went dark. “He stripped me, even though I tried to fight. He tied my hands and feet. And then … and then…”
“He raped you.”
“Yes.” Kasim’s breath came in slow painful draws, his lungs resisting every movement. “He beat me and forced himself on me. He kept me there all night, doing whatever he wanted.” Hours and hours of the kind of nightmare that still clung to him. “When he left in the morning, I was barely conscious.” His face and body battered, Kasim had been ready to curl up and let the elements take him.
“How did you survive?” Winter’s voice pushed through the memories, giving him an anchor in the here and now. He laced their fingers together, then he placed his spare hand on his me’hendra’s head.
“Shallamar.” Keeping the three of them connected, he lifted his head and looked at Winter. “Shallamar found me. She freed me from my bindings and helped me clean myself up. She hunted for me and kept me safe and warm at night. We spent a week together in that cave, and I suspect I still would have been there if she hadn’t forced me out.”
“So, you went back to your aunt and uncle?”
“Yes, but not for long. Being claimed by a me’hendra is an invitation to join the rhe’hashan. I packed my belongings, and Shallamar led me to the closest cadre. I was escorted by a relay of rhe’hashan until I arrived at the training center in Aurora.” He shrugged. “And the rest is history.”
Winter was quiet for a moment, but she didn’t seem repulsed and there was no pity in her expression. Sympathy, yes, and definitely thoughtfulness. He wondered what was going on in her busy mind.
She squeezed his hand. “I want to give you a hug, but I don’t want to trigger any bad memories.”
“Shamira, your touch is always welcome.” He’d laid his heart open to her, but somehow she still didn’t understand. Sucking in a deep breath, he gave it to her straight. “I love you. You’re my mate.”
Her jaw dropped. When she finally found her voice, she was still wide-eyed. “You love me?”
“Yes.” It was what he’d been telling her all night, one way or another.
“Just like that?”
“No, not just like that.” He offered her a wry smile. “You know better than anyone how difficult it’s been for me to fight my demons. I’ve fought hard, Winter, but not for myself. I fought so I could have a chance to be with you.”
“Oh, Kasim.” She flung her arms around his neck. Gripping her waist, Kasim lifted her so she straddled his hips, her ass nestled in his lap. Pulling her closer, he settled her head on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her.
She snuggled in, sliding her hands around his waist. “I love you, too.” Shuddering in relief, Kasim held her tight. “But I think this mate thing is going to take some getting used to.”
The fact that she was even considering it eased his heart. “Take whatever time you need,” he said, even though he didn’t mean it. He wanted to claim her as his own right now.
Her warm breath ghosted over his chest. “So, being mates. That’s like being married, right?”
Winter’s question gave him cause for optimism. Every step she took toward their mating took him ten steps away from the lonely life he’d thought was his only future. He’d confessed his worst experience to her, and she’d turned to him with love and generosity. His heart filled with the kind of hope he never thought he’d have. And he planned to kindle that hope into a flame.
“The Jendari believe physical intimacy is a natural part of life. We don’t have the same taboos or social expectations that seem to abound in human society. Through his or her adult life, a Jendari will have many lovers, both long and short-term. Relationships can be casual or serious, some might only last the night while others might last a lifetime. These patterns also hold true for the rhe’hashan.” He stroked his hands up and down the slender lines of her back. “We only differ from regular clansfolk if our animal half gets involved. A rhe’hashan can have many lovers, but he or she will only ever have one mate.”
Winter stilled in his arms. “That’s a lot of pressure.”
It probably seemed so, to her. “The bond is what it is. A rhe’hashan has no control over his or her other form when it comes to finding a mate. It can become quite complicated. For example, I could be madly in love with a woman, but if my lepardine doesn’t claim her, she’ll never be classed as my mate.”
Kasim wasn’t sure if Winter was aware of what happened to Tallis when his tigaren bonded to Jasmine. To keep her safe, Tallis stayed away from her, and his tigaren pined so badly Tallis almost died.
Which was information Kasim wasn’t going to share at this point. “My lepardine has claimed you as our mate. That is a fact that won’t change. What we do with that information is up to you. We can throw ourselves fully into a relationship.” Which was his first choice. “We can date for a while to see how things go. Or you can walk away and never see me again.” Please, Badria, don’t let Winter choose the third option. “It’s up to you how we proceed from here.”
Winter sat up and looked deep into his eyes. “What do you want?”
“I want you.” He didn’t know how many ways he could say it. “You’re my mate, so as far as I’m concerned, my place is by your side.”
Winter held his gaze, but he couldn’t read the emotion in her brown eyes. “On this world, there are some animal species that mate for lif
e. Is that what it’s like for your lepardine?”
“Yes.” If Winter refused him, Kasim might go on to have other relationships, but his feline half would never accept anyone but her.
“I need to think about it for a while.”
“Of course.” Kasim gave her a reassuring smile, then lied his ass off. “Take whatever time you need.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Winter repressed a smile, hearing the lie in Kasim’s voice. When he said “take your time” what he meant was “hurry the hell up”. Snuggling back down on his chest, she reveled in the freedom of being able to touch him whenever and however she wanted. He was all hard muscle and warm skin, and when he locked his arms around her, she felt safe and cherished.
Which was weird considering how independent she was and how vigorously she defended her right to stand on her own two feet. Without even trying, Kasim had taught her the difference between controlling and protective behavior. And she was beginning to learn that it was okay to depend on someone other than herself.
Kasim loved her. He’d said it and she believed him. The knowledge sent sparks of joy shooting through her body, swelling her heart until it felt too big for her chest. When he’d explained the significance of the mating bond, she very nearly threw herself at his feet in surrender. She loved him too, and the possibility of being with him in a full-time relationship made her head spin.
But there were other things to consider. How would she deal with keeping the most important part of her life secret from her family and friends? Would she still be able to work? Where would they live? And how would they protect her from the risk of exposure?
She was in the news business. If word got out that a human was in a relationship with an alien, it would send the media into a feeding frenzy. And it would put an even bigger HEC target on her back. She shuddered at the mere thought of those assholes looking in her direction.
“You okay?” Kasim’s voice rumbled over her head.
“Yes.” They both knew that was a lie.
“What were you thinking about?”
God, where to even start? Taking the coward’s way out, she chose the least emotionally charged item on her list. “The HEC, and how I’m going to deal with being one of their targets.” If she chose to accept the role as Kasim’s mate.
“I’m glad you brought them up.” He resumed stroking her back in the long sweeps that liquefied her bones. “Tell me what happened when you left the ballroom.”
She jerked up right. “What? No. That’s not what I meant when I said—”
He put his fingers over her lips. “It might not have been what you meant, but it’s where we’re going. I shared my most painful memory with you in part to build trust, in part because you’re my mate, and in part because you need to know I understand. All those feelings you experienced are ones I’m intimately familiar with. I won’t judge or offer advice. I’ll just listen.”
Sliding his hand along her jaw, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her forward for a slow, thorough kiss. His hold was firm, his lips soft, and when he slid his tongue against hers, all the fight went out of her. And he kept kissing. Licking and stroking into her mouth, nipping her lips, sucking on her tongue.
When he finally eased her back, she was breathless, dizzy, and not quite seeing straight.
He smiled, more to himself than her, and scooped her into his arms. Before she had the presence of mind to protest, Kasim had stretched out on the sofa and tucked her in tight beside him. Pulling down a throw rug from the back of the couch, he covered them both. He settled her head on his shoulder, tugged her arm around his waist, and lifted her knee so her thigh rested across the top of his legs.
She should have been outraged by his highhandedness. Instead she found it funny, and totally endearing.
“So, what happened when you left the ballroom?”
Jeez, stubborn much? Winter let out a huffy breath and rubbed her hand over his broad chest. “If I tell you, I’m liable to blub all over you.” Again.
“I hope so. The Jendari believe tears are a sign of healing.”
“Oh. Well, that’s … enlightened.” Most men she knew ran for the hills if a woman so much as teared up.
Kasim rolled a little, his gaze searching the floor for his me’hendra. “Shallamar, would you mind?”
Mind what? Winter was about to ask when she heard Shallamar growl. As the me’hendra padded into the kitchen, Winter decided to keep her curiosity to herself this time.
Moments later, Shallamar came back with a tea towel in her mouth. Kasim chuckled, the movement vibrating into her body. “Thank you, Shallamar.” He took the offering and placed it near Winter’s hand. He smiled down at her. “I was hoping for the tissue box, but honestly, I’m just grateful it’s clean.”
It took her a moment to realize the tea towel was going to be her handkerchief. She didn’t know whether to laugh or be appalled.
“No more excuses, Winter. Get it out.”
She tried to rummage up some righteous indignation, but she knew he was right. And he had the courage to open up to her. How could she do any less? Damn him.
Pressing herself close to his warm body, Winter mentally braced herself. “The guy who came to escort us from the table looked as though he meant business. He was dressed in the same tuxedo as every other man, but there was something menacing about him. I used the ring to chemically tag him, just in case.”
Kasim arms tightened. “That instinct probably saved your life. We tracked the tag as soon as it went live, and that’s how we found you.”
Thank God. Winter tried not to think about what would have happened if she hadn’t been able to mark him. “Lubanski led us down a couple of corridors and into a small room. I was still moving forward when I felt a pinch on my neck and then everything went dark. I woke up in a room wearing nothing but my panties and a set of discount store sweats.”
Knowing she’d been stripped and re-dressed by a faceless stranger made her shudder. The thought that Lubanski might have been that stranger made her want to puke.
“Keep going, shamira. You’re doing well.”
Yeah, not really. Keeping her eyes on the rise and fall of Kasim’s chest, Winter told him everything. The bowel-clenching terror of being led into the basement, the helpless indignity of being tied to the chair. And the inescapable pain. Of all the words in her vocabulary, there were none to adequately describe the agony her body had suffered.
Her recitation wasn’t linear, and she stopped and started between bouts of tears. Kasim asked the occasional question, but mostly he just held her. For a man who kept his own emotions on such a tight leash, he was very good at reading her needs.
When she was done, she felt tired, but free of the weight that had been dragging her down. There didn’t seem any point in hanging onto her guilt. Kasim had forgiven her, and that was a gift she never expected and had no wish to dishonor. And it wasn’t as though she could go back in time to change things. She’d been kidnapped and tortured, and she’d revealed information to the rhe’hashan’s enemy. Those things were done, and, while she wasn’t proud of her behavior, there was nothing she could do to change it.
Her only course was to go forward, trying to do better. Trying to be better.
And in the quiet, curled up against Kasim, she had to wonder what the best version of herself might look like. Could she refuse Kasim’s offer and simply go back to her old life? She doubted that was possible, knowing what she did about the Jendari. Knowing what it was like to have a rhe’hashan in her life.
The idea of being Kasim’s mate was both wonderful and terrifying. To have him for her own, to have him claim her, was the perfect solution as far as her heart was concerned.
But she had other needs, other responsibilities. She had a job she loved, friends who were really family, and social interests that included going out in public. As much as she loved Kasim, she didn’t see how he would fit in to any of that.
“I can hear your brain wo
rking.” Kasim rubbed his cheek on the top of her head. “I can’t alleviate your concerns if you don’t tell me what they are.”
Lifting herself up on elbow, Winter used the fingers of her free hand to comb through Kasim’s hair. She didn’t know how to phrase her concerns in a way that wouldn’t make her sound weird, and she was too worn down to try.
“My mother can’t exist without a man in her life, and once she has a man she’ll do anything to keep him. I’ve seen her work in jobs she hates, and I’ve seen her give up jobs she loves, just because her man-of-the-moment demanded it. I’ve seen her go from hard drinking to complete abstinence, from shy and quiet to outgoing and loud, depending on the requirements of her current lover. She’s a chameleon, adapting to the color and personality of the man sharing her bed.”
Winter gazed down into Kasim’s beautiful face. “I can’t be that. I swore I would never live my life according to someone else’s dictates.”
“I understand what you’re saying.” He ran a warm, calloused hand down her arm. “But I’m not sure how that applies to me. I love you just as you are. I don’t want to change a thing about you.”
Winter smiled. “I’m not questioning our feelings for each other. I’m worried about how those feelings are going to impact on the life that I’ve built here. I have a job that I love, and I have friends who mean a great deal to me. I don’t want to relinquish either of them..”
Kasim was quiet for a moment, and his gaze lost focus in a way that made Winter think he was talking to Shallamar. When he blinked and locked his eyes on hers, Winter shivered under the ice-blue intensity. “If you agree to be my mate, your happiness becomes part of my responsibility.” He pulled her down for a soft kiss. “And my privilege,” he whispered against her lips. With a sigh of satisfaction, he eased her back until she was looming over him again.
“If you agree to become my mate, I’d like you to move in here with me. I have no problem with you working, nor do I have issue with you maintaining your friendships. It’s true we won’t be able to go on dates in the way humans do, but I’m motivated to find a workable go-around. I’ll make sure you still get to the movies and the theater, even if management has to sneak us in when the lights go down.”
Breaking Ice (The Jendari Book 2) Page 21