by Liz Craven
“You are allowed to grieve. Deity knows you are entitled to your pain, but your tribe needs you. I need you. Without a Knife, we are weakened and over seven hundred tribe members no longer have a name. An identity. Your suffering costs them their existence in the tribe.”
Thane closed his eyes. Rhys spoke the truth. “I will join a family by morning.”
“Join the one you truly desire.”
The soft, authoritative voice of the Malkia in his ear made him jump. His eyes flew open to see her at his side. Apparently, he’d lost his senses when he’d lost his name. “There are a few choices that appeal to me …”
She shook her head. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you turned coward.”
He physically jerked at her words as his pride fought to raise its head.
The Malkia stared at him as though she could see his soul. “What about the name you desire? The one you haven’t let be offered yet?”
Thane was shaking his head in denial when Rhys said, “She’s leaving in the morning.”
He froze mid-shake, attention arrested. “Leaving?”
“She’s returning to N’yota with her brother and the other healer,” the Malkia told him.
He’d thought he’d been suffering before, but the Malkia’s words sent shards of pain tearing through his system like bits of broken glass. “That’s for the best.”
“Is it?” In contrast to her consort, the Malkia’s voice held sympathy and compassion. “She’s legally bound to you.”
“She might be unable to legally wed someone, but she could still build a life with him. Somewhere away from here. Somewhere safe.”
“She could,” the Malkia agreed. “But she won’t. Her commitment to you is as strong as yours is to her. That beautiful, vibrant woman will spend her life alone. No one will share her joys or help her through the trials of life. She’ll never know the joys of motherhood or those of being a grandmother.”
Guilt and longing spun through him like twin tornados. “Maybe that’s best.”
The Malkia shook her head. “Despite what Karia became, I would not trade a moment of her childhood for anything. I have regrets. Gerund is weak and I should have taken a more active role in raising her after my daughter died, but I will always cherish the joy she brought me.”
“Even if Ilexa never has children, off Dunia, she’ll be safe.” Why couldn’t they understand that?
“Ah,” the Malkia breathed. “Now I see. It’s not just your blood you blame, but your tribe.”
Thane closed his eyes against the truth of her words.
“Malkia, may I speak with Thane?” At her nod, Rhys ordered, “Walk with me.”
The two men fell into step and walked in silence along the outer rim of the arena. The roar of the rain drowned out the sound of their footsteps.
“I hate this tribe.”
While being nameless had affected Thane’s senses and instincts, it had not affected his balance. The quiet words uttered by the Sword of the Hakimu didn’t knock him off his feet—but they did make him stumble. “What?”
Rhys ignored the obvious shock in Thane’s voice. “I was born into this tribe and fought my way to position of Knife.”
Thane nodded. He knew Rhys’s history and warrior reputation.
“When I became Knife, I first met the Malkine. I’d seen her often since she’d been born, but never spoken to her. When I had to talk to her the first time, my knees actually knocked. After the celebration of my rise to Knife ended, I went out into the rain to escape the lingering well-wishers and the Malkine followed me. We stood in the downpour and had to shout to be heard. Through the mystic veil of the Malkine, I saw a beautiful, kindhearted, neglected woman. Someone so much more than the role others expected fulfilled.”
Unbidden, images of Lia rose to Thane’s mind. Sovereign of N’yota and interplanetary power, she would always be Talon’s spirited wife in Thane’s eyes.
“I’ll spare you the romantic drivel, but I fell fast and hard. I’ve never forgiven the tribe.”
“For…?” Thane couldn’t seem to connect the dots.
“For not seeing her as I see her. For not seeing her. A person. A woman with a beating heart. Someone worthy of her own name. I protect the tribe because she loves it and for no other reason…” Anger poured off the warrior in hot waves as Rhys visibly battled his anger. “I tell you this, because I want you to know that I understand your rage. The tribe should have protected Ilexa.”
Thane’s soul sang with relief that someone understood his fury. “She deserved the tribe’s protection.”
“She did and we failed to keep her safe from an evil living among our own people, an evil within my own bloodline. But will you continue to punish her for the tribe’s failures? For your father’s?”
Thane sucked in a harsh breath, but before he could respond, he realized they’d lapped the arena and the Malkia stood less than five meters from them.
While the Malkia hadn’t moved, something inside Thane had shifted. Something he couldn’t quite explain had changed about the woman. A spark of anger ignited. “She deserves a name.”
“I gave her one.” Pride threaded Rhys’s voice.
Oblivious to Thane’s new view of her—or at least willing to ignore it—the Malkia approached and placed a hand on his arm. “We want to see you happy.”
He inclined his head.
“We should leave Thane to his decision.”
The words implied the decision about his family name, but they all knew the real issue with which he wrestled.
Making polite noises and excuses, he returned to his apartment, opting to skip the communal dinner. The thoughts in his head and the emotions in his gut made food impossible.
***
Ilexa sat cross-legged on her bed trying to center herself. She’d long since abandoned the idea of sleep, but her mind wouldn’t allow her to relax enough to complete even a basic breathing exercise.
Giving up, she stretched out lengthwise along the edge of the bed and stared down at the rug with the beast design. Memories of the mystical creature inked onto Thane’s chest brought a rush of longing that didn’t come close to filling the hollowness inside her.
They’d be leaving in a few hours, and she knew in her heart she’d never return. She’d never see the Hakimu keep again. Drea and Quatres would correspond with her for a while, taking care to never mention Thane. Then they’d slowly drift away from her and become a fond memory.
She’d been surprised when Tristan had tried to discourage her from returning to N’yota with them. Even more surprised when Tristan hadn’t challenged or tried to kill Thane. Not that she’d asked. One of the benefits of Marlus’s care was any information she might want—and a lot she didn’t—was volunteered.
The hinges creaked as the door opened, but she didn’t bother to look up. Tristan had started hovering when she announced she would accompany them home. “I’m fine.” As an afterthought she asked, “What time is it?”
“A little after two.”
She jerked and reared up on her forearms to see Thane standing in her doorway.
“May I come in?”
Dry mouthed, she nodded. Sitting up, she watched him warily. “Did you come to say goodbye?”
He sat on the edge of the chair across from her and something about his posture indicated he was ready to bolt. Finally, he asked, “Do you hate me?”
“For staying away? No. I figured it was easier and less awkward for both of us that you did.”
He eyed her oddly. “I apologize for staying away. I needed to…get some perspective.”
“It’s fine, Thane. I understand.”
“Do you hate me? For my blood?” He ran a hand through his loose hair.
She’d told him this before, but he obviously needed to hear it again. “You aren’t responsible for your father’s actions. I can’t forgive you. You’ve done nothing for me to forgive.”
He didn’t meet her eyes. “Do you hate me for being
Hakimu?”
She’d poured her heart out to him, laid her soul bare and confessed her love. What in all the hells prompted these questions? “I don’t understand. Of course I don’t hate you. I’m Hakimu, too. Remember?”
He raised his eyes and the pain in them struck her like a physical blow.
“We failed you. Your tribe failed you. How can you not hate us? Hate me?”
Prophets and gods, his pain was tangible. “I don’t hate or blame you—or the tribe.”
“You should. I do.”
The hatred and rage in his eyes almost frightened her. She rose on shaky legs and took the few steps to throw her arms around him. “Don’t. Please don’t let this define you or your relationship with the tribe.”
He caught her off-guard when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his lap, clinging to her like a drowning man to a piece of flotsam.
She held him just as tightly. Something had broken his emotional dam and she feared him being swept away in the current. They sat like that for a while, Ilexa savoring the feel of him.
“The Malkia tells me you’re leaving,” he whispered into her hair.
“Not because I’m angry or afraid,” she told him emphatically. “I thought it would make things easier for you if I went.”
She felt him turn his head and rest his cheek against her crown. “How would not seeing you make things easier? That’s like taking away light to help me see.”
Cautious hope began to bloom in her chest. “You need me?”
“More than my next breath.” He shuddered as he inhaled. “Don’t leave me, Lex.”
“Why?” She asked, unwilling to make an assumption on something so important. “Why don’t you want me to leave?”
“Because I love you. I need you.”
She didn’t cry—though she was close to it. She needed all her energy to help hold him together. “I love you, too.”
“Marry me.”
“Anytime,” she promised and lifted her head for a kiss.
The heat between them sparked and flared, but Thane pulled back, shaking his head. “You have to heal.”
She felt his excitement beneath her, but he shook his head again. “Not until you’re better. I won’t risk it.”
Taking his earlobe between her teeth, she nipped him. “But I ache. Don’t you want me to feel better?”
He swept her up and deposited her on the bed with a glower. “Not until Marlus clears you.”
“Thane, I’m a healer. I know what’s safe.”
“You’ve told me you can’t heal yourself. We’ll wait until he gives us permission.” Thane paused. “And we’ll wait until we’re married.”
“Thane!”
“I’ll use whatever incentive I have to hurry this along.”
“Why are you suddenly in such a rush?” she griped.
“I don’t want you to change your mind.”
His tone was teasing, but the haunted look on his face made her regret sniping at him. On impulse she said, “Marry me in the morning and let’s go visit my family. We can be there for the birth of my niece or nephew.”
He hesitated. “I’m not sure…”
“Please,” she wheedled, before shifting to shameless blackmail. “Otherwise, I won’t marry you until I return after the birth. I’ll just leave you here alone—” she stretched, arching her back to thrust her chest out, “—until then…”
He groaned.
She dropped the sensual pose and let solemn promise fill her eyes. “But regardless of our relationship status, I would be honored if you took the name Dhakir.”
“Not as honored as I am to accept it.”
They sealed his acceptance with a tender kiss, but this time, she pulled back first. “Marry me in the morning.”
Thane released a put-upon sigh. “Fine, but that means facing Talon in person. You owe me.”
She laughed. “Talon will be thrilled. Besides, he’ll be so worried about Lia, he won’t be able to give you grief.”
“It’s not grief as much as assassination I’m worried about.” Thane grumbled.
“No worries there. Your death would upset Lia.”
“It would?”
“And it would destroy me.”
He lowered his head to rest against hers and she sensed the emotion churning within him.
“First thing in the morning, we’ll have the Malkia marry us. Then we’ll brave your family.”
“Second thing,” she corrected.
“Second thing?”
“First thing, I’m getting clearance from Marlus.”
He crawled into bed to hold her and she savored the sound of his chuckle.
About the Author
To learn more about Liz Craven please visit www.lizcraven.com. Send an email to Liz at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Liz! groups.yahoo.com/group/lizcraven_newsletter
Look for these titles by Liz Craven
Now Available:
Prophesied
Is he the hero of her childhood dreams…or the death of them—and her?
Prophesied
© 2008 Liz Craven
On the day of her birth, Lia fulfilled a prophecy that ended a 5,000-year war, and became a wife. But being the fulfillment of a sacred prophecy makes for a stifling childhood—not to mention a dangerous one. When an assassination attempt goes wrong, Lia takes the opportunity and runs from her destiny—as well as from her absent husband.
Talon isn’t sure what to expect when he rescues his bride from a mining colony on a barren moon. What he doesn’t anticipate is her lack of gratitude and her repeated escape attempts. Determined to convince his wife to accept her duties, Talon knows he also needs to keep her safe, even if he has to lock her up in his own quarters to do it.
As they get closer to their planet and Lia’s coronation, the danger around them increases, and so does the tension between them. For their growing attraction to turn into something more, they need to stay alive and learn to trust each other—a tall order when Lia’s experience in life has taught her that trusting people can get you killed.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Prophesied:
Lia’s eyes, accustomed to the dark mines, burned under the harsh office light. Blinking the tears back, the face of the speaking soldier wavered briefly, before coming into focus.
Her heart stuttered, and she managed to keep her jaw from dropping. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse—or any better, she wasn’t sure which.
His face was leaner than she remembered, giving his cheekbones a sharp edge. He had lost the soft features of a young man. The roundness of his cheeks had faded, making his square jaw more pronounced and giving him a determined look. He regarded the rep with gray eyes, the color of melted xyreon ore when light struck it. Unlike the ore, however, his flinty eyes were ice cold. The world “ruthless” flitted across her mind and a shiver danced down her spine.
His body had been long and lanky when she had last seen him, but the man before her was not the awkward boy she once knew. His chest had filled out, making him easily three times her width. His upper torso tapered to a lean waist. Body armor hugged trim hips and strong legs. The red emblem of an elected planetary official gleamed on his shoulders.
He barely glanced at her, and the feeling of disappointment that swept over Lia surprised her. She hadn’t wanted him to recognize her and had no business feeling hurt because she had gotten her wish.
As she studied him, he glanced at a soldier behind him and jerked his chin in her direction. A man with blond hair and the flush of youth still in his cheeks stepped towards her. He smiled at her—the first courtesy ever offered to her in the rep’s office—and extended his arm.
“This will only take a moment,” the young soldier assured her.
Staring at the device he was holding, Lia took a cautious step back. The rep still had a death grip on her arm—her fingers were going numb—so the step was small, bu
t it was enough for the soldier to hesitate.
“What is that?” she demanded, relieved she sounded angry rather than panicked.
“It won’t hurt.” His tone was polite, if condescending, but he didn’t lower the device.
“What ‘won’t hurt’?” Lia snapped out.
The young man actually blushed. “It’s a simple DNA scan. It will take less than five seconds, and you won’t feel a thing.”
This time Lia wrenched her arm free from the rep as she leaped backwards. “Absolutely not.”
“I promise it won’t hurt,” the youth reassured her.
“I said no.”
Then he spoke, and he had the audacity to sound amused. “Madam, we are looking for someone. The DNA scan will help narrow our search by eliminating you. We will compensate you for your time.”
She snorted. Even if they gave her money, the rep would be the one “compensated” for her time. “I still refuse.”
“We must insist.”
Ignoring the furious glare of the rep, she stood her ground. “Under League privacy laws, a DNA scan cannot be compelled unless an individual is under arrest. Am I under arrest?”
He lifted an eyebrow. She resisted the urge to reach up and yank it back down.
“You are not under arrest—” he conceded.
“Then I am free to refuse the scan.”
“Neither are you in League territory,” he continued. He gestured towards the youth. “Caden.”
Lia’s stomach sank. They had her. League laws meant nothing on Tmesis. The only thing she could do was endure the scan with dignity.
The young soldier stepped forward, pointing the scanner at her.
Dignity be damned. With fury fueled by fear, Lia kicked out, knocking the scanner from the unsuspecting soldier’s hand. She spun and darted for the door.
She didn’t make it three meters, before slamming into another one of the soldiers who had circled around to block her path with inhuman speed. Her breathing hitched when she took in his glowing red eyes, wide-spread jaw, and sharp pointed teeth. An Inderian. A proud and fierce race of warriors steeped in tradition, blood feuds, and honor. If their inherent skills weren’t enough to inspire fear in those they met, the rumors of ritual sacrifice and cannibalism were. They rarely left their home system, but those who did usually hired out as assassins.