Kol drew in a steadying breath. “Rather than parrot the elders, why don't you look for a way to prove them wrong? Please contact me if you find anything useful."
He strode out of the lab, his heart racing. If only adrenalin were all he needed to break the bond, he could no doubt cure himself.
* * * *
Charity woke at dawn the next morning and let her blurry gaze travel across the room to where Kol slept on a portable pallet on the floor. He hadn't touched her since the elders’ decree and, despite remaining close enough to ward off the effects of separation, her body ached for him now.
It's all chemical. She repeated the mantra over and over as she shifted under the thin, snow white sheets of his bed. The way her heart fluttered and her stomach tightened when he looked at her had nothing to do with genuine feeling and everything to do with some genetically engineered bug designed to keep couples together long enough to raise their babies. She and Kol would never have babies together, nor would they be allowed to live happily in the quiet luxury of the A'Kosu compound.
The bond would be nothing more than a curse for them. And it had to be broken, if for no other reason than she couldn't bear to look at him knowing he'd made love to her because his body demanded it, not because his heart chose it.
She rose in the gray light and slipped into her clothes. He'd held off the separation ritual because he wanted to spare her the physical pain of it, but the Valencians would arrive before sunset today and she had to be ready to escape, or die trying.
Without waking him, she left his quarters and headed through the tranquil gardens toward the A'Kosu Great House.
* * * *
Her absence woke him. Kol rolled to his feet in a swift movement and focused his gaze on the empty bed.
She couldn't have been gone long, but the uncomfortable twinge in the pit of his stomach told him that each moment took his bond mate farther from him. Was she trying to escape the compound?
He'd made sure she understood that if she strayed too far from his side during this potent, early stage of the bond, the physical agony would incapacitate them both. He thought she understood.
Kol dressed quickly and flung open the door. Gia stood there, her head bowed. Her long, black hair had been carefully twisted into ceremonial braids and she wore her white, formal medic's robes.
"What happened? Where is Charity?"
"She waits at the Great House. The ritual of separation will begin as soon as you arrive."
A thousand rude questions sprang into his mind, but he suppressed them. By the look in Gia's eyes, Kol could tell she was not involved in this.
"I saw myself standing at your door, telling you this,” she said as he shouldered past her. “So I dressed and came over."
"What else did you see?” He tossed the cavalier question over his shoulder, not expecting a response. His long strides faltered when her quiet answer reached him.
"I saw my white uniform, covered in blood."
Kol resumed his pace, unable to form a suitable comment. This was not the time to debate the veracity of Gia's visions or his own. He'd seen nothing valuable in days, and that had him just as concerned as the disturbing visions that had plagued him since the moment he'd seen Charity's ship slicing through the storm clouds on Lebron.
The doors of the Great House were open when he arrived, and a crowd of his tribe mates had gathered in the front courtyard. It seemed everyone in the compound knew of the separation ceremony but him. With furtive glances, his brothers and sisters parted to allow him and Gia to pass.
When Kol's eyes adjusted to the dimness inside the Great Hall, he saw Charity. The pain of their temporary separation subsided instantly and was replaced by a different sort of ache. In three swift strides he passed her and positioned himself before the assembled Elders.
This time Barok occupied his rightful place next to Demnar, rather than pacing the chamber floor as he usually did. Kol addressed the Second Elder only, careful to keep his gaze averted from Demnar's strangely peaceful expression. “We were to be given a choice in this matter."
"And a choice has been made.” Barok's response was firm but held a palpable hint of regret. His own gaze fell on Charity and Kol turned to her.
"I made the choice, because I knew you wouldn't. You shouldn't have to give up your lineage for me, or for anyone.” Her tawny eyes focused on Barok. “It's not fair, but that's never stopped governments from making bad decisions before. We need to break this mating bond before the Valencians get here, and I want to get it over with. Tell me what I need to do."
Barok rose. “If you are not familiar with the rite, we cannot ask you to—"
"You're not asking. I'm telling you. Let's get it over with. Now."
With uncharacteristic glee, Demnar rose from his seat. His green robes swirled around him as he made his way from the podium to the gleaming floor of the chamber. He held in his hand the ceremonial lash, which he placed in Kol's hands with deliberate reverence.
"Break the bond you share with her, Kol'A'Kosu, or forfeit your place in the lineage of your tribe."
Just as Kol recalled from his vision, the room filled with the sharp scent of well-worn leather and the whispered comments of the A'Kosu who had now moved from the court yard to crowd the partially open doors of the council chamber. Most of them had never witnessed a separation ritual. This was a rare occasion, never undertaken lightly and usually accompanied by a pall of grief that kept all but those closest to the couple away.
Gia stepped forward then, and with a slight bow to Demnar, placed herself between Kol and Charity. She bent to whisper instructions in Charity's ear and his bond mate's golden eyes went wide. Full knowledge of the brutal nature of the rite would make her change her mind. Kol was certain of it.
His heart nearly stopped when she nodded and Gia stepped away.
Charity pulled off her shirt and tossed the garment on the floor at Kol's feet. No one in the room flinched or commented when, half naked now, she knelt at his feet.
A wave of vertigo swept over him. Not since the age of ten when his very first vision had come to pass, had he felt this sense of fear and revulsion. It was a side effect that all Antareans who possessed the gift learned to overcome, but now Kol felt as he had more than twenty years ago, sick with contempt for his ability to see what he could not change. The helplessness of it struck him once again, as it had all those years ago, like a physical blow.
He could not abide it.
Charity glanced up at him, adding guilt and grief and an unwelcome measure of arousal to his tumult of emotions. If he carried out the rite, he would feel nothing for her when it was over, and she would feel nothing for him. The relief would be a blessing.
"Kol. Please.” Her voice was steady and clear.
What choice did he have? She'd made her wishes known to the Council and if they did nothing else for her, they would at least uphold this request.
He closed his hand tightly around the wooden handle of the whip and took two small steps to put himself behind her, facing away from the Elders because he dared not look at them.
Let one blow be enough to sever this unnatural bond, he prayed as he raised the weapon.
Charity's voice echoed in the otherwise deafening silence. “Goddess, bless me. Hurry, Kol."
* * * *
Charity braced herself for the first blow. A'Kosu'an had told her three lashes with the ceremonial whip would initiate the chemical reaction in her body that would kill the bonding retrovirus.
Then she would be called on to administer the same to Kol. In the end they would renounce any claim to one another and leave the council chamber free of each other forever.
A'Kosu'an had promised Charity relief for the physical pain of the lashes, but nothing would soothe the tear in her heart that came when Kol accepted the whip from the First Elder. He clearly wanted his freedom. He hadn't chosen this bond and therefore he shouldn't be held to it. Charity had no right to expect Kol to love her. They'd shared nothin
g except a few difficult days stranded on Lebron and a few inarguably passionate nights. Where she came from, that was nothing more than a dalliance. To the Dedicants who still sought to rule Celrax with their antiquated beliefs, that was a crime, but to most of the people Charity had ever lived with, it was a way of life. No one stayed together forever. Her own parents had parted shortly after her birth, leaving her mother to struggle to raise a child alone and practice an art in a society that frowned upon both.
Mating bonds were the stuff of speculative fiction and Charity Foster had no time in her life for fairy tale love with a man whose own people were ready to disown him.
She closed her eyes. The first crack of the whip made her entire body stiffen, but the blow never landed.
A curious whisper traveled around the room and she held a moment, fearing perhaps Kol had simply missed. Instead of a painful lash across her back, though, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder.
With a subtle slap of leather, the whip landed beside her. The gentle pressure of Kol's touch guided her up from the floor.
"If this is what it means to be A'Kosu, I gladly renounce my lineage.” Kol's voice boomed in the deathly silent hall. Charity's jaw dropped, as did those of several of the Elders.
The female, in her sunny yellow robes, rose. “A'Kosu'ri, you understand your decision is final. You may not change your mind on this matter."
"Of course I understand. I have decided to leave Antares with my bond mate and seek protection somewhere else. If those I counted as my family, those to whom I have given my true name, would not help this woman, then I no longer wish to bear this lineage. I am no longer Kol'A'Kosu, son of Rand."
Everyone remained still and silent for the longest moment of Charity's life.
She wanted to throw herself into Kol's arms, but the stern looks of the Elders kept her frozen in place. Only when A'Kosu'an bent and scooped up her discarded shirt did Charity dare to breathe.
The blue-robed Second Elder stood now, and Charity imagined he looked relieved, maybe even proud of Kol's surprising decision. He bowed to both of them. “Kol, and Charity-Foster, I bid you peace and invite you to remain in the compound as long as you wish. The A'Kosu cannot intervene on your behalf with the authorities of Valencia, but we can offer you a place of rest and a parting meal before you leave us."
Charity might have refused, but this was probably the last refuge they'd have for a while and they needed some time to plan their next move. Gremin would not stop searching for her if she ran, at least not until he had a bigger problem to deal with. She assumed the Antareans would keep the selenite and give it back to Gremin's people when they arrived.
Beside her, Kol bowed to the Elders, though the gesture was brief, truncated. “We will be gone before sunset. Thank you, A'Kosu'ban."
Charity slipped her shirt back on and chanced a sidelong look at the Elders. The others had gathered around the one in green and he appeared both smug and slightly disappointed by the turn of events.
She didn't need Antarean visions to foresee the long and heated debate that would follow her and Kol's retreat from the chamber. A storm seemed already to be brewing among the leaders of the A'Kosu tribe.
Kol took her hand then and led her from the Great House. The assembled crowd parted and many even smiled at her as they passed. A few of the men bowed before Kol and a few turned their backs, but most wore expressions of respect. Apparently it wasn't often that an A'Kosu stood up to the Elders.
The walk back to Kol's quarters was swift and silent. When they arrived, Charity sank against the wall just inside the door, panting from the exertion of keeping up with his long strides. “What now?” she managed to ask between breaths. “Will they let you take a shuttle or—"
He was on her before the last exhalation left her lungs. He pinned her to the wall and drew her startled gasp into his mouth on a brutal kiss.
Charity moaned and her knees buckled. Only the pressure of his body pressing her against the wall held her up. She clung to his shoulders, digging her fingers into his hard flesh as he tore her clothes away.
"I want you,” he growled, and the scrape of his stubbled jaw against hers, down the smooth skin of her throat, sent a shiver through her entire body. “I can't keep my distance any longer."
"Is this the bond?” Charity whispered. Her vision had blurred with the pleasure of Kol's hands roaming her body. She gasped when he suckled a nipple and groaned when he thrust a searching hand between her legs. “Or do you really want me?"
He paused only for an instant and his eyes bore into hers. Something in her core ignited and turned to liquid heat. Moisture seeped down her spread thighs. “I could have resisted the bond, but I cannot resist you."
* * * *
Kol scooped Charity up in his arms and carried her to the bed. She stretched beneath him on the mounds of crumpled sheets and writhed while he shed his clothes.
How many times had he witnessed this? Too many of his visions had shown him rising above her, guiding his cock into her willing body and swallowing her cries of pleasure. His visions had showed him this woman in his arms, this woman taking pleasure from his body—how could he deny that any longer?
His lineage be damned, Charity Foster was the woman he wanted.
He plunged inside her roughly, driven by desire too long denied. Supple and pliant, she accepted him with a sharp sigh and a clenching of her inner muscles that massaged his sex until near madness overtook him. No Antarean woman had satisfied him thus—but, of course, no woman of his tribe had become his bond mate.
Beneath him, Charity rose to meet each thrust. Her legs locked around his waist and her long fingers raked up and down his back, adding a frisson of sensation that would hasten his orgasm.
This would cement their union. Each time he filled her with his seed, the bond strengthened. Nothing would break it now, not time or distance, and Kol didn't care.
He needed her in his arms and in his world, and if his tribal family would not accept her, so be it.
"Kol ... oh ... Kol,” Charity panted his name and clutched his arms which were braced on either side of her. Rising once more to meet him, her slim body spasmed and she shuddered with her climax. The contractions of her sex around his drove him nearly to the edge of his own release. “I don't ... want you to lose everything because of me.” Her words ended in a sharp sob, yet she continued to move with him, eager to bring him to his own orgasm.
The sensation of completion rose from his balls and rocketed toward the head of his cock, buried deep in her womb. With a roar, he exploded in her.
She shivered in his arms as he filled her and it seemed he delivered every last drop of himself into her body, giving her everything he had or would ever be.
Their heartbeats were synchronized now, and every movement of their sweat-slicked bodies was as one. “I've lost nothing,” he said, lowering his lips to hers. “With you in my arms, I have all that I need, my love."
* * * *
Charity's entire body pulsed with pleasure and contentment. Kol lay next to her, sleeping deeply, his broad chest barely rising with each breath. The white sheets of his bed lay twisted around their bodies. Charity squeezed her thighs together against the soft intrusion of the fabric between her legs. Her clit still ached and deep within her, her tired muscles stirred, yearning for more of the man who lay beside her.
This wasn't supposed to happen. The words echoed in her foggy brain. How had she come to this point? Her sole purpose in life a week ago had been to finally make a difference to the colonists on Celrax and teach Gar Gremin a lesson in politics. All she'd wanted to come away with was enough credits in her pocket to buy a few months worth of fresh rations, fuel for her ship ... and a new contraceptive patch so she might be able to get laid once in a while.
Now she had what? A husband it seemed. She hadn't had much time to study all the intricacies of the Antarean mating bond, but from what she gathered, the chemical union was legally binding in the eyes of his people.
Kol A'Kosu, bounty hunter, was now her bond mate, nothing but death could separate them. With Gar Gremin and his relentless Valencian Guard on her tail, that should have petrified her—having to worry about another life besides her own. Yet she felt strangely content and safer than she ever had in her life.
No matter how short-lived it might be, Kol had given her a temporary peace, and she loved him for that. She loved him.
Her fingers roamed over the hard plains of his abdomen and he stirred under her curious touch. He shifted his broad frame and rolled in her direction, reciprocating with a more demanding touch of his own. Her body ripened for him instantly and she slid into his arms.
In moments he was in her, filling her again, rising above her in passion. There would be time later to talk, to plan what their lives together would be like once they escaped Gremin, but for now she knew only him, his body and his touch.
They came together and lay panting, tangled together in the quiet of the late morning. The moment should have lasted forever, but before either could speak, the ground shook with the vibrations of what sounded like a distant explosion. A blaring claxon shattered the silence and the acrid smell of smoke wafted in through the open windows of the room.
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CHAPTER 12
The pale violet sky blackened with billowing smoke from several burning buildings at the north end of the compound. The screech of Valencian fighters as they careened overhead was deafening.
Panic tore Charity's breath from her lungs. All she could do once she and Kol had hastily donned their discarded clothes and dashed outside, was to keep her head low and run where he told her, toward the infirmary.
A sharp pain wound through her belly when he veered off from her and ran through the landing field. She screamed his name, but the roar of an engine stole the words and tossed them into the rising wind.
Kol was gone in a haze of drifting smoke before Charity could call out to him again. Dismayed by the suddenness of the attack and staggered by the pain of separation, she stumbled up the steps of the infirmary and lurched inside. Firm hands caught her before she could sink to the floor and she looked up into A'Kosu'an's sparkling blue eyes. Already the pristine white uniform she had worn this morning was spattered with dark Antarean blood.
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