by Autumn Dawn
She deserted him for her own room only to discover it was no longer hers. Her clothes had been moved to his chamber before she’d returned last night. How had she not noticed that? She still felt the need to be alone, however. Sharing a room with him only made her affliction worse.
She shouldn’t have gone so far, but they were married…almost. The qualification didn’t settle right in the light of morning. She was confused, afraid that the source of her confusion would do what he had promised—guard her sense of honor. Even if she went to him and asked for him to finish what he’d started, she knew he would refuse. It was a lowering thought, that she couldn’t even guard her own honor anymore.
He shouldn’t have seduced her. Her mind was a mass of confusion now, and she blamed it on his carefully planned trap. She’d been loved all night, enough to ensure her devotion, but she wasn’t a wife. Why had she promised her sister anything? Why couldn’t he have left her alone?
Chapter Ten
She wasn’t left alone long. Namae soon came for her and conducted her to a small reception of Ryven’s family and friends. She met Ryven’s other two sisters there and their families. Toosun and Shiza were present, along with the LG and the Lady Tessla. Namae only stayed because Xera collared her as she tried to slink away. “I don’t think so.”
“Mistress—”
“Sister, you mean. What ever else you are, you are also my aide. That means you stay by my side and try to keep me from embarrassing myself unnecessarily. It’s your job, Namae.”
Oddly enough, defining the action of staying with her family as a job seemed to relax Namae. She stood up straight and made no further protests, though she did move a respectful distance away.
“Cleverly done,” Toosun said in her ear. “I never would have thought to use that approach.” Ryven was talking to one of his sisters an arm’s length away and didn’t comment, but he glanced their direction.
“Too much sympathy is like eating too much candy—it sours the stomach,” she told Toosun. “How would you like to break your arm and then have the world treat you like you were made of glass?”
He blinked. “Interesting thought.”
Xera shrugged. “I was a younger sister, too, and probably overindulged.”
“You think we spoil her?”
She frowned at him. “You’re letting your sister pretend to be a servant and hug the wall.”
He stared at her. A reluctant smile tugged up his mouth. “You have a way with a rebuke. I think I’ll go and talk to her.” He shook his head as he turned, either at her or himself, but the smile remained. He leaned on the wall by his sister, a determinedly casual expression on his face as he chatted.
“What mischief are you up to?” Shiza asked her. His eyes lingered on Namae as he sent a curious glance her way. There was something guarded, pensive there. He handed Xera a drink. “You may want this—these family gatherings can be hard on the nerves.”
She accepted the glass but didn’t smile. She still didn’t like him. “But you’re not family, are you?”
“I grew up with Ryven. We are old friends.”
“Hm.” She looked around for someone else to talk to.
He wasn’t disturbed by her cool attitude. “How are you finding married life?”
That caught her attention. “We aren’t married yet. I haven’t informed my sister about it.”
“Ah. This is some custom of your people?”
“I made her a promise. Ryven is letting me keep it.”
Shiza looked at Ryven and smiled enigmatically. “How like him. He has far more patience than the rest of us. Or does he?”
Was he baiting her? The innuendo sparked her temper. She didn’t have to raise her voice to make it vibrate with fury. “You’re lucky I wasn’t your captive—I’d have slit your throat in your sleep.”
He leaned closer, amused as only one who loved to bait others could be. “You assume I would use force.”
“You’d have to,” she retorted.
He smiled. “I know my friend very well. You’ve had something of a wedding night. Was it so bitter?” He waited until the color in her cheeks betrayed her. “We’re brothers in that, sweetheart.” He sauntered away.
Xera was left feeling stupid and a little breathless. She glowered at his retreating back and went in search of a distraction. Since Shiza was heading toward Ryven, she went the other way.
Ryven looked meaningfully at his friend as Shiza joined him. “You’ve tormented my wife.”
“She is unaware I helped you move the table into your chambers,” Shiza said blithely. “She insists you are not married yet.”
Ryven’s expression was bland. “We reached a compromise.”
“I thought so.” Shiza looked at him curiously. “What’s it like, being married? Any regrets?”
“No. I doubt I’ll ever be bored with a woman like her.”
“Hm. How do you think she’ll hold up to her ambassadorial duties? It’s rare to have a woman in that office.”
“She’ll have help. Speaking of which, it looks as if my sister is haranguing her. Excuse me.”
As her husband extricated her from his sister’s clutches and moved her to a more private space, he asked Xera, “Tired yet?”
She gave him a look. “Your sisters are very like mine.” They were giving her qualified approval, but she sensed she was on probation. They hadn’t accepted her yet. Nobody said it, but maybe they wished he’d married one of his own kind.
Part of her was glad. She hadn’t given up on going home. Ryven might be working hard on changing her mind, but this wasn’t where she belonged.
“Headstrong, bossy and full of unsolicited advice?” he suggested. “I can see why you left home.”
She laughed, but the mood didn’t stay. “Tell me the truth—are we married?”
He looked thoughtful. “If I were to die this moment, yes, you would retain your status as my wife. This is to your benefit, of course. There is no requirement of pregnancy, for instance.”
She frowned. “Is that even possible? Our species may not be capable of reproduction together.” She was surprised she hadn’t thought of that before this, but all of the main bits of their anatomy were the same.
His brows lifted. “It won’t be for lack of effort.”
She exhaled in reluctant amusement and looked aside. After last night, she had no doubts he would go above and beyond the call of duty in that regard. Lucky her. However she felt about being stuck here, she had no doubts she would enjoy his tender ministrations.
“We won’t have the official reception until after you speak with your sister,” Ryven told her softly, breaking into her reminiscence. “We will use pressing business as an excuse for the delay.”
She looked at him in question.
“I and a small group leave tomorrow for the border. A fleet of warships is coming to parlay with us. You’ll step into your ambassador role very soon.”
She drew a breath. She’d be close to her people soon, as close to a ride home as she would be for a long time. She knew that all the while, he’d be watching her like a spy satellite.
“How many days is it to the rendezvous point?” she asked.
“Three. It’s another eight months travel to reach your world, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” They had never discussed it, but she knew he’d salvaged information from her wrecked ship. The distance depressed her. What had she been thinking, to travel so far from home? Her sisters were literally billions of miles away. Even if she could steal a ship and head home, she’d have a hard time reaching them. Traveling alone for such long distances could be deadly.
“We will be able to receive a message, though it is a vast distance to cover. Fortunately, communications are far swifter than ships, and while the communications relay won’t be done for a while yet, I think we can persuade the GE to pass on a message using their relays, this once.” Wormhole technology made possible for messages what was deadly for a man. No one knew how to send a l
ive body through a wormhole yet. Somehow, it was harder to be hopeful when they were so close.
He seemed to realize that. “Come. My aunt looks lonely.”
Xera snorted at that bold lie, but she let him distract her anyway. Brooding wasn’t helping anyway. She did offer a word of warning, though. “The GE are not to be trusted.”
He raised a brow in inquiry.
“They don’t always keep their word.” She didn’t know how to caution him further without betraying old loyalties, so she said no more.
He seemed content to drop the subject, for he said no more about it. He did look at her thoughtfully from time to time, though.
If she had been nervous or excited about the night to come, Xera never had a chance to explore it. A courier met them at the entrance to their room with an urgent message for Ryven.
“What is it?” Ryven asked grimly. He must have known what was coming.
The courier looked at Xera.
Ryven glanced at her, too. “Would you excuse us, Lady Xera? I won’t be long.”
“Sure,” she said in her own language, forgetting to translate. Deciding it would be explanation enough just to exit, she entered their quarters alone.
Ryven came in shortly afterward. “I’m sorry, hir-i’ami. There is something I must attend. There is no need to wait up for me.”
“Trouble?” she asked, following him into the bedroom. “It’s nothing to do with our upcoming trip, is it?”
“No, the other border,” he said as he rapidly changed out of his civilian clothes and donned his military uniform.
“What’s on the other border?” she asked curiously. It had never occurred to her to wonder what the Scorpio boundaries were, or what lay beyond them; her world had been a smaller bubble for the last week, and an absorbing one at that. Did they have more enemies, then?
He noticed her disturbed expression and gave her a comforting kiss as he took her hand and towed her into the living room. He picked up a remote and turned the viewing wall on, then thumbed through the programs. “Here. There are some shows about our northern border, and plenty of entertainment videos to take your mind off it after that. We’ll talk about things when I get back.” He really did look imposing. Putting on his uniform was like donning a mantle of war for him—his whole demeanor changed. It would have to, wouldn’t it? He was a leader and a warrior, and he’d only been a husband a short while.
She felt a twinge of intimidation, reminded of how they first met.
His eyes softened and he gave her another lingering kiss. “There will be another evening for us, hiri’ami.” He strode from the room.
A twinge of loneliness struck her. Surely she wasn’t becoming emotionally attached to him already after all he’d done, all he’d forced upon her—albeit pleasantly, and in her best interests? Shaking her head at herself, she settled down on the couch to learn about her new world and what Ryven faced.
Hours later, she was feeling decidedly chilled. The Khun’tat were a predatory race of flesh eaters who lived beyond the Scorpio frontier. Seven feet tall, leather-skinned and fanged, the aliens dressed in metal body armor and slit-eyed masks only a little less hideous than their faces. They had hoselike tails at the back of their skulls tipped with sharp spines that could stun prey, making it easier to devour them at leisure. The females laid eggs. Their hatchlings required fresh, warm blood to thrive, and the Khun’tat were not farmers. They seized what ever beast or person they could lay talons on to feed their monstrous appetites.
They had moved into Scorpio territory over a hundred years ago. Only the ferociousness of the Scorpio had kept them at bay, plus the Scorpio’s slight technological edge. It was scary to know this race was what the human race would have been facing if the GE had succeeded in pushing back the Scorpio borders. Humans had yet to encounter anything like it, and Xera hoped they never would.
Namae had told her once that her brothers were skilled pilots, some of her people’s best. Xera wondered how many battles they must have fought to develop those skills, and how often Ryven would fly into battle now. Would he be called away often, as he’d been to night? Did he lead the missions in person, or did he call the shots from a battle cruiser? Not that a cruiser couldn’t be shot down: the Khun’tat reportedly swarmed around those ships often, knowing the big score of blood that could be had inside. It was more economical than taking pilots ship by ship, especially when a pilot could trigger a suicide explosion rather than be taken as food.
Xera felt a hollow ball of fear settle in her gut. She’d seen Ryven in the field, knew what he could do, but his ship had been shot down along with her own. He was vulnerable. She could lose him.
She laughed at herself, at her misty eyes. She’d known him for so little time! How could she be feeling like this? Love had to grow, didn’t it? Didn’t she want to go home? What about her sisters? Her world?
She shoved those questions aside as a new thought occurred to her. The Scorpio didn’t need the hassle of the GE. What they needed were allies. If she herself were any indication, humans and Scorpio were compatible races. If she could use her position to help foster peace between them, it could help them both enormously. If the Interplanetary Council could be convinced to rein in the GE—or at least send them exploring in another direction—this could work. Her life could count for more than she’d ever dreamed.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Xera settled down to think.
Ryven found his wife curled on the couch hours later when he returned. A glance at the main view screen showed a video about the Khun’tat still playing. She must have fallen asleep watching, instead of switching to lighter fare. As he scooped her up and carried her to bed, he wondered if she’d had nightmares.
She stirred, saw it was him and relaxed. He smiled to himself as he helped her undress and slide under the sheets. In moments he was with her, curled around her sleeping body.
Xera woke to find herself in a heated tangle with her lover. Ryven had surely gotten less sleep than she, but he had woken first and was presently kissing her neck. She sleepily arched to give him better access before reality trickled in.
“Hey,” she rasped, giving him a half-hearted elbow. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why?” He licked his way up to her ear and suckled, sending chills down every nerve. Even her fingers tingled.
Not for one moment did she think he didn’t know why. “We’re waiting to be married.”
“Compromise,” he murmured. It sounded more like a command than a suggestion.
She sat up and frowned at him, the sheet clutched to her chest. “You don’t compromise—you sweep in and take over.”
He smirked. “So far that’s been to your benefit.”
She ignored his comment. “Look, this is a weird situation and I’m blaming you for that. First we were engaged, then virtually married in that ceremony I had no control over. You seduced me, too, which to my mind constitutes a verbal breach of promise.”
“Next time get a written contract,” he advised her, his head propped up on one hand. He looked sleepily entertained and deliciously mussed.
Her eyes narrowed. She was not going to laugh at him when she was trying to make a point, or she’d lose this argument…though so far it had been an argument of one. “The point is, I’m not about to give up any more of my seriously strained virtue.”
“Then take mine,” he suggested before she could continue her harangue.
“What?”
Those brimstone eyes sparked with mischief. “You can hardly sully what I no longer possess.” When she just stared at him, uncomprehending, he took her hand and brought it to his chest. He leaned back against the pillows. “I like it when you touch me, too.”
She blushed, unable to meet his eyes. In all their interactions, he’d always taken the lead, had always made love to her. Put on the spot, she didn’t know quite what to do.
He wasn’t inclined to make it easy for her, either. He crossed his arms behind his head and look
ed up at the ceiling like a lazy cat. “Coward.”
She gasped indignantly. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before!”
“Hm. Well, you have a willing victim.”
“Victim,” she muttered, and got distracted by all that bare chest. Miles of hard muscle stretched out under her fingertips. Her mouth went dry. Her fingers twitched, and suddenly she was trailing her fingers over him, exploring all the grooves and planes. He hummed when she traced his nipples and growled when she trailed her fingers over his belly. It was a powerful feeling, watching all that powerful animal flexing under her hands. She even trailed her fingers up to his neck and buried them in his hair, the better to lean over and breathe in his scent.
“I can’t help but notice you’re avoiding looking below the sheets,” he said huskily. “Aren’t you curious?”
She muttered something, avoiding his eyes.
“What?”
“I’m shy!”
He grinned. “I won’t bite.”
She half laughed even as she sent him a look of rebuke. After a moment her hand edged toward the blanket.
Ah, his wife was killing him, Ryven thought as he closed his eyes, but he didn’t want to be saved. He looked through his lashes as she lowered the sheet, saw her eyes dilate. She’d seen him before—he’d seen to that—but she always averted her eyes. This time she was looking, trailing a tentative finger down the length of him.
“It’s so hard,” she said, as if she couldn’t help herself. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“Enjoy it,” he encouraged her. “You’ll never see another one.”
“Arrogant,” she chided him, but her hand circled him just the same. He inhaled sharply and she started to let go. He grabbed her hand before she could. “Don’t stop. Feels good.” He curled his hand over hers, firming up her grip, then showed her how to move up and down. After all, she was driving him mad.
He was not tame in his passion, arching and moaning his pleasure. A glance at her showed how his voice made her cheeks flush, her lips part, but after that he stopped analyzing her reactions. She took instruction very well—he couldn’t wait to see what else she took to.