"On occasion. If you are offended by the practice, I will stop."
"No.” Charity grabbed the woman's hand. “It's fine. Very much appreciated. Thank you."
The Antarean medic continued her treatment for a few moments, during which a soothing warmth spread through Charity's entire body.
She hadn't felt this much at home in longer than she could remember. Or this lonely, either. Her mother would have loved these people ... and been allowed to practice her art freely had she been fortunate enough to live among them.
"So,” she said finally, swiping at a tear that threatened to run down her cheek. “Did you put all my parts back where you found them?"
The woman smiled. “We only had a few left over. We're keeping them in a jar for you."
Charity's panic at the deadpan answer lasted only a split second. She laughed. “So you practice sarcasm here as well, I see. That's good. I should fit right in."
The Antarean woman's chuckle was deep and reassuring. She hitched one hip onto the corner of the bed. “Humor aside, you should heal well. You're body hasn't rejected the synthetic blood and there seems to be no sign of infection."
"I guess Kol fixed me up pretty well in the shuttle.” At the mention of his name, the woman seemed to stiffen a bit. The friendly smile left her eyes.
"Kol?"
"Yes ... he brought me here."
"I know to whom you're referring. I'm just surprised that you have his name."
Charity nodded. “He told me that names are sacred among Antareans. I'm honored that he gave me his."
"They are. You should not refer to him by that name except in the company of others who have been given leave to use it as well. If you call him A'Kosu'ri others will know of whom you speak."
Charity frowned. “Thanks. I'm Charity, by the way and it's okay to call me that. What shall I call you?"
The female Antarean rose and settled the food tray across Charity's lap before she replied. “You may call me A'Kosu'an, which is my title. If you do not know someone's title, anyone here will answer to the name A'Kosu."
"That must get confusing.” Charity tried to make a mental note, but her brain was still a bit fogged from the medications they'd given her and the faint buzz of pain in her belly. A'Kosu'an left her then with a curt nod and a faint smile.
She stared at her breakfast which suddenly seemed less appealing. Her desire to eat had been replaced by a longing, an emptiness in her that food would not fill, and it seemed to have come on her the moment she mentioned Kol's name.
* * * *
Barok paced before Kol, tapping one thin finger against his chin. Beyond the old man, the remaining members of the A'Kosu tribal council sat in their places on the curved podium of the Great House. Each of their faces was lit by a small spot of white light that made them appear as heads floating above the polished black surface of their table.
"The agreement was with Magistrate Gremin of Valencia, to track and capture a thief. That agreement was not upheld.” Yannick, the only female elder, repeated what had already been stated by each of the six other Council members in turn.
Kol fought not to roll his eyes or express any measure of fatigue. His gut twisted uncomfortably, and his errant thoughts turned to Charity and the severity of her wounds. No word had reached him yet about her recovery and concern ate at his thoughts, distracting him from the proceedings. “I request to have the prisoner speak before you. She tells of the conditions on the Rim colonies and how Magistrate Gremin hoards the selenite they need to power their generators. Colonists on her world are starving and she sought to buy them food and medicine, not line her own pockets."
Barok nodded. “I'm certain you believe this, Kol'A'Kosu. But we need more proof. The A'Kosu do not break their word lightly."
"The A'Kosu do not break their word at all,” First Elder added. His disdain for non-Antareans colored all of his decisions, yet he remained in the highest position of respect as First Elder because of his advanced age. Three hundred years of life had made Demnar wise, if not kind.
"If this human is lying to protect herself, we will bear the shame of it,” Yannick said. “All A'Kosu will bear it."
"Her claims can be verified with a trip to Celrax and the other Rim colonies,” Kol offered. He'd grown weary of this argument an hour ago and now hunched forward in his seat, guarding his aching stomach with one arm.
Barok's clever gaze assessed his posture, and he attempted to straighten to hide his growing physical discomfort. “Kol'A'Kosu, I ask again. Are you ill? We will suspend our discussion while you visit the infirmary."
"I'm well, Elder Barok. Merely fatigued from poor rations and lack of rest."
Yannick stood. She pursed her lips and stepped down from the podium. Kol held himself still while she circled his chair, her yellow robe flowing around her like a lake of sunlight. “He is not ill, Barok. He aches for his mate. Anyone can see that. Why has Kol'A'Kosu been denied a reunion with his loved one?"
"I have no mate.” Kol's answer was quick and final. His words echoed from the high ceiling and the dark walls of the Great House.
Yannick stared at him. “You hold yourself in the posture of the bonded. Your body weakens for want of another."
"No. I am merely fatigued. Lebron is a humid world with driving rains and dangerous wildlife. We had little food and—"
"You mated with the human female."
All eyes turned to Kol at Yannick's accusation. Even Barok stopped his pacing and turned around. “A mating bond?"
"No. A stomach ailment. Perhaps I am ill after all.” Kol held his ground. He'd gladly have purged his last meal as proof, but he'd eaten next to nothing since they'd left Lebron. Hunger gnawed at him along with the strange pain in his gut, but it was not nausea.
"What have your visions shown you, A'Kosu'ri?” This came from Demnar whose use of Kol's title spoke volumes.
"I have seen very little, only the human being tortured unjustly by the Valencians."
"And I have seen Kol'A'Kosu standing before us with this human by his side. We will investigate her claims,” Barok said. He placed a surprisingly strong hand on Kol's shoulder and squeezed. “I have seen it."
Demnar and the others rose, obviously unable to dispute the details of Barok's vision. “Then we will adjourn until the human can speak for herself, but know this, A'Kosu'ri, we will also seek testimony from the Magistrate and from the men you left behind on Lebron. Any decision we make will be based on all of the facts. The selenite will be held in the Great House under guard until such time as our decision has been finalized."
Kol rose, determined not to hunch forward to relieve the relentless pain in his gut. “Thank you, Elders. I will abide your decision, as always."
Barok gave him a hard look. “Until then, Kol, go and see A'Kosu'an. If this ailment of yours gets worse, I fear we will find you on the floor."
Kol nodded. He bowed to the Elders and backed out of the audience chamber. He would go to see A'Kosu'an and he would pray to Charity's goddess that he'd picked up an intestinal parasite on Lebron. He refused to acknowledge the absurd possibility that, somehow, a mating bond had formed between himself and a human female.
* * * *
The pain began as soon as the sedatives they'd given her wore off. Charity sat on the edge of her bed, moaning.
Outside her window, the Antarean moon popped over the horizon, casting the grounds of the A'Kosu compound in a wan, coppery light. Days here were short, only sixteen hours from sunrise to sunrise, and in half that time, Charity had gone from feeling nearly recovered to certain she was about to die.
She jumped when A'Kosu'an placed a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?"
"Something is very wrong. I think maybe the synthetic blood isn't working.” Charity sank down onto the mattress and crawled toward the pillows. She stretched her shivering body out while A'Kosu'an opened her bandages.
"The wound is healing on schedule. Your skin is cool and dry and of a proper color for a hea
lthy human. Where does the pain originate?"
"Here.” Charity pointed to the spot above her navel where a hot blade seemed to twist in her innards.
A'Kosu'an poked and prodded as doctors everywhere did. She frowned and hummed and muttered to herself, then poised her large hands over Charity's stomach. A stab of panic clouded the soothing vibrations emanating from the Antarean's hands and had Charity struggling to sit up. “It can't be. I'm not ... pregnant, am I?"
Just as she had at the mention of Kol's name, A'Kosu'an stilled. Her wide hands fluttered for a moment, then resumed the gentle movements over Charity's belly. “Forgive me. I thought for a moment you meant you had mated with A'Kosu'ri. I shouldn't have assumed you did not have a mate elsewhere."
"I did. I mean, I have. We have. But he told me he didn't think we were genetically compatible."
Now A'Kosu'an stopped her treatment. Her hands fell to her sides. “You are not. There is no pregnancy, but there is something else."
Charity groaned. “Oh, no. Don't tell me I've got some alien parasite growing in my gut?"
"You have A'Kosu'ri. This pain has no physiological cause. It's unrelated to your injury. Therefore it must relate to your separation from your mate."
Now Charity did sit up. “I don't have a mate."
"Your body says otherwise."
"What are you talking about?"
A'Kosu'an stood back and crossed her arms over her chest. For a moment Charity wondered if the Antarean woman might be jealous, but she looked so much like Kol it seemed more likely they were siblings or cousins than lovers. “It's best if A'Kosu'ri explains this to you. You should be with him before either of you become more uncomfortable."
A'Kosu'an left the alcove with a flourish of the fabric curtain and in her wake, Charity doubled over and rubbed her aching stomach. This made no sense. What could Kol have done to her to make her feel like this? Hopefully the medic had gone to fetch him and he'd be able to clear up all this mysterious Antarean doublespeak. In the meantime, though, Charity could do nothing but lie on her narrow bed in agony and wait for him to come to her.
* * * *
"I will not go.” Kol crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to stare down A'Kosu'an. Her true name was Gia, but even those closest to her rarely used it, as she preferred her medical title.
"This is a mating bond. There's no need for both of you to suffer. Come to the infirmary for the night and in the morning, if you are both well, I will dismiss you."
"If this was a mating bond—and it's not—but if it was, our being together now would only strengthen it. In the end, if the Elders choose to turn Charity over to the Valencian authorities, the pain of separation would kill us both."
"Kol, you've given her your name. You've filled her. How can you deny the mating bond?"
"Because of the look in your eyes, Gia. You, each of the Elders, even Barok. You are all appalled by my actions and more than a little concerned by the fact that I've brought a human home to the compound. To pursue such a bond would shame us both."
A'Kosu'an threw her hands in the air. “If that's how you feel about mating with a human, why did you? Surely that tiny female didn't hold you down and force herself on you."
Kol silenced her with a warning glance. “It was not a choice either of us made. Lebron ... the planet forced us."
A'Kosu'an laughed. “I've heard many excuses for thoughtless copulation before, but that—"
"There was a pollen fall. Spore from the trees covered the area where we crashed. I explained it all to Barok earlier.” Kol strode across his room and returned with the shirt he'd worn on the planet. It still bore yellow smudges of the infernal dust and smelled rather strongly of ... sex.
A'Kosu'an raised a brow and contemplated the shirt. “Pollen?"
"Yes. Clouds of it. It made all the higher mammals rut and we, being higher mammals, did the same."
"May I have this shirt to take samples?"
"Take it. You may burn it when you're finished. I never want to smell that scent again."
"It is rather pungent."
"Perhaps you can make an antidote."
A'Kosu'an frowned. “That's unlikely. It doesn't matter how the bond came to be. If it exists, it can't be denied."
"No.” Kol opened the door of his quarters and bowed to A'Kosu'an, a polite but unmistakable dismissal. “But it can be broken."
Long after A'Kosu'an left, Kol lay in his bed cursing his visions.
Until this mission he'd always considered them a gift. The Antarean colonists had found ways to extend their life spans and ensure good health. They'd bred the visions into their warriors to aid in battle and into their leaders in hopes they would be able to see the outcome of political decisions. The mating bond had assured loyalty among couples to strengthen bloodlines and keep families strong.
Today these gifts seemed like curses, not because he didn't long for Charity's touch, her unique taste and scent and the feel of her supple body in his arms, but because he could not justify the pain she would suffer if the Elders forced her to leave Antares.
He'd read of cases where the mating bond could be severed by less drastic means than the ritual betrayal enacted before the Council. Breaking the bond would bring its own brand of shame to his lineage, but at least Charity would be free to leave the compound and escape Gar Gremin's wrath.
Kol tossed and turned and his stomach knotted. Sweat drenched him, making the thin sheets of his bed cling to his body.
He saw her standing before him in the darkness, her body nothing more than a silhouette. He sensed her reach for him and his body responded, readying for her, hardening in anticipation of plunging in to her willing heat.
Her voice echoed in his mind. "Tie me up again before you do it, just do it!"
He couldn't deny her or himself any longer. He took her eagerly and with no thought to the consequences. The ecstasy of sinking his aching sex into her body replaced all logical thought and each thrust brought him closer to the relief he'd been begging for all day.
He woke gasping. His right hand, clenched around his still pulsing cock, was sticky with his own release. His body trembled with the force of it, and still his gut ached for her.
* * * *
Charity braced herself on the ornate door jamb outside of Kol's quarters. Had she been in better condition, she might have been able to appreciate the intricate Antarean architecture and the sense of aesthetics and efficiency with which the tribal village had been constructed.
Unfortunately the short walk at dawn through the pastoral gardens and serene landscapes from the infirmary to Kol's quarters had been made in haste and terrible discomfort. A'Kosu'an had left Charity on Kol's doorstep, like a discarded waif.
"The Council has deemed you A'Kosu'ri's legal and moral responsibility,” the Antarean woman had said. “He must care for you until they conclude their investigation."
Charity might have questioned A'Kosu'an, but it was all she could do to remain upright. She forced a long, determined breath out between clenched teeth and rapped on Kol's heavy wooden door.
When the door swung open finally, Charity managed a tight smile. At least Kol had the decency to look as bad as she ... had felt just a moment ago.
The sudden absence of pain staggered her and she wobbled. Kol caught her, but rather than scoop her up in his arms, he merely set her on her feet and glared at her. “You should have stayed away."
Charity growled and pushed past him into the luxurious suite he called home. Lightheaded with relief, she couldn't decide if she wanted to dance, or kick his tight Antarean ass into next week.
"Can you please explain to me how I can feel a thousand percent better than I did a minute ago? I've been in agony all night long and they tell me it's your fault.” She stabbed a finger into his brawny chest. “Goddess help me, if you don't give me some answers that make sense, I will not be held responsible for what I do to you."
Kol let out a breath and lowered himself to an overstuffed
chair. Charity glanced around at the décor, which was palatial and masculine. The dark walls had a rich appearance. Heavy accents of color hung here and there amid the lacquer furniture. On a raised platform sat a huge square bed topped with a tangle of bright white sheets. He'd had a rough night, too, apparently.
"How can just seeing you make the pain go away?"
"The mating bond is controlled by a retrovirus introduced into the Antarean bloodlines ten generations ago.” His reply was stiff and instructional. He didn't meet her gaze.
"So you gave me a virus?” Her lips clenched. A'Kosu'an had conveniently left that part out.
"Yes, but not intentionally. The mating bond isn't supposed to cross species, or even tribes."
Something about that didn't sit right with Charity, but the joy of being without the persistent pain in her belly dulled her anger a bit. She lowered herself to the edge of the bed and leaned back on her elbows, appraising Kol from across the room. “Well, something went wrong. Now what happens? We get sick every time we're apart?"
"Only in the beginning. The effect grows more manageable over time, but the psychological result is to ingrain in our minds a need to be together to ensure ... propagation."
"Propa ... but we can't get pregnant together. Right?"
"No."
Charity squinted at him in the dimness. “No we can't or no, I'm wrong?"
"No, we can't."
"Well, we weren't supposed to have a mating bond either, were we?"
Kol shook his head. He leaned forward and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands for a moment. Rather than anger, Charity felt sympathy and a deep affection for him. She wanted to go to him and touch him, to run her hands over his shoulders and down the lean lines of his back.
"Ummm. Does this also mean we're going to have sex every time we're alone, too?"
"No.” He rose, his spine stiff, jaw set. “That would solidify the bond. As uncomfortable as it is, we should stay away from each other and hope the effect wears down."
"What? And go through that kind of pain again? I don't think I can. I was shot—” She lifted the hem of her shirt to show off her bandage. “And that pales in comparison."
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