“You see, Urkan?” Savyr drawled. His arctic demeanor thawed into cruel satisfaction, feeding on Yrenna’s fear and Arek’s humiliation. “You just have to find the right incentive to motivate these humans.”
He removed the point of his blade from Yrenna’s cheek. He tasted the blood on the edge of the blade, cleaning both sides with a slow lick of his tongue. Imhara wrenched her gaze away, the knot in her stomach tightening with his sadistic enjoyment.
“While I know it’s a hard task for any female, I’ll leave any further disciplinary action for this slave to you, Na Kaal.”
Imhara let the slur slide and bent her head in mute thanks. Did Arek realize just how close he’d come to death? To watching Yrenna die? Why had Savyr stopped Yur and ceded control of Arek’s fate to her?
She pursed her lips. Whatever his reason for restraint, his benevolence worried her. Arek had just pushed her ass-first into a position of vulnerability.
“It’s a good thing you’ll be mated before the end of this season.” Savyr’s comment drew her gaze back to him. “Then the responsibility of dealing with slaves need no longer fall to you.”
Imhara sucked in a short breath. Was that his motive? Use his generosity to pressure her into mating?
Savyr released Yrenna as he pushed to his feet. Yur followed suit. The young woman curled up among the cushions, her head buried in her arms, her sobbing silent. A healer could staunch the bleeding of her wounds, but would they be able to repair the scarring?
“You’ll pardon me if I reserve judgment on that, Na’Rei.” Holding on to her temper, she stood. “At least until I see how well my potential mate handles any sort of responsibility.”
For the longest heartbeat, Savyr stared at her with his piercing gaze. “Ambition and attitude has served you well the last few years, Na Kaal, but don’t forget who you’re addressing. You’re being given the choice of mate, but this arrangement can be altered.”
An icy finger scraped between her shoulder blades. She let her gaze drop in a gesture of submission and acknowledgment.
“But I do admire your sass.” His chuckle was low and deep. A complete surprise. “Many don’t, Imhara, but I do. Perhaps because I see so much of me when I was younger in you.”
Imhara hid her grimace. That wasn’t a particularly comforting comparison.
“Commander Jirri is looking forward to meeting with you.” Savyr sheathed his dagger. “Make yourself available to receive his visit tomorrow.” A clear warning. “Your hospitality has been”—here his gaze flickered to Arek and his lips tugged upward—“entertaining.”
Imhara bowed her head. “Your presence is most welcome at our hearth again, Na’Rei.”
Rassan saw both Na’Reishi out. As the small group left the tent, her gaze dropped to Arek. He remained on his knees, head pressed to the rug. Fresh anger spurted through her.
Merciful Mother, what had possessed him?
Goose bumps prickled her skin as the last ten minutes replayed through her mind. She rubbed her arms. How close had she come to defying Savyr? To drawing her blade, fearing he would murder someone she cared for.
She stared at Arek. Lady knew she felt a connection with him, but not once had she ever put her personal needs over the safety of her Clan, yet this time she had.
The thought left her shaking even as her anger ratcheted back up. She paced to the table, needing to work off her agitation.
“Sayla, Miry!” The two servers scrambled to their feet. “Get Yrenna to a healer.”
Rassan returned as the two women left the tent, the young scout cradled between them. Her Second held the flap open, then let it close behind them and strode into the room.
“They’ve gone.” A gruff, clipped statement. His black-flecked gaze reflected her own tumultuous emotions.
His boots thudded hard on the ground as he crossed to Arek. Fisting his hands in the Light Blade’s tunic, he hauled him to his feet. Arek offered no resistance.
“You put every person in this camp in danger with your stupidity.” He released the human with a hissed curse, his expression as thunderous as his low-pitched voice. “By the Light, I’m tempted to drag you to the stocks and leave you there for the duration of our time here!”
A flush darkened Arek’s cheeks. His mouth pulled down at the corners. “I’m sorry. . . .”
“Sorry?” Imhara gripped the edge of her desk until her fingers went numb. It was either that or manhandle him as Rassan had. “Yrenna deserves more than an apology.”
Eyes closing, Arek scraped his hands over his face then fisted them. The heavy acidic odor surrounding him intensified.
“Lady forgive me, I know.” His hoarse voice wavered, and shadows darkened his gaze. “I truly am sorry.”
At least his regret was genuine. That was something.
Imhara reined in her temper but censored none of her contempt. “Your apology had better be accompanied by a good explanation, or I’ll be the one carrying through on Rassan’s threat.”
His brow dipped and a spark of anger glittered in his eyes. “What happened is my fault, I know, but I told you I’d make mistakes.” His voice thickened. “I just wasn’t expecting him to hurt her to get to me.”
His gaze turned inward, and his hands clenched and unclenched. A tart muskiness stained his scent.
Grief.
Imhara frowned. It was much stronger than expected, considering he didn’t know Yrenna all that well. What carved such lines of pain on his face? She seesawed between not wanting to intrude on his memories and figuring out what had provoked him.
The safety of her Clan had already been jeopardized once for him. His doing but she’d compounded the error. They were both to blame. She had to know if he was a liability.
“Start talking, Light Blade.”
His expression morphed from shell-shocked to reticence with a flex of his jaw. Imhara folded her arms, steeling herself for . . . what? She had no idea, but they couldn’t afford another catastrophe like this evening.
“In order to bring Savyr down, you demanded I be open and honest.” She grimaced. “Ten minutes ago I’d have killed Savyr to save you, risking everyone I love to do it. Lady knows why I care as deeply as I do for you; I shouldn’t, but I do.”
From the corner of her eye, Rassan’s brows rose high on his forehead. Imhara kept her gaze fixed on Arek. Despite her admission, Arek’s expression remained closed, and any explanation remained locked behind flat-pressed lips.
“You swore allegiance to our cause, Arek.” She stabbed a finger at him. “You lost control. I want to know why.”
Chapter 26
“I want the truth, nothing held back, or your part in this ends now.”
Imhara’s ultimatum sent a rush of adrenaline surging through Arek. Need and fear clawed within him with equal fervor. Mother of Light, there was no doubt he owed them all an explanation for his behavior, especially Yrenna, but the idea of sharing his personal history twisted his innards. Yet he couldn’t lose the opportunity of avenging his parents’ deaths.
His whole body heated, scalp to toes, and his world narrowed to the heavy beat of his heart against the inside of his chest. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to ease the sensation.
Strangely enough it wasn’t so much the revealing that bothered him but the pain that would come with it. Like a live brand, it burned a hole in his soul, imagining the nightmarish scenarios of his mother’s life as a captive, of the desolation his father had experienced, the depths he’d descended to before he let it claim his life, leaving him behind with an embittered grandfather.
The what ifs of the difference they’d have made if they’d both been in his life haunted him since he’d been old enough to realize their absence and mourn their loss. Not that he’d any choice with Davyn reminding him almost daily.
Lady knew what scents were pouring off him. They had to be awash with conflicting impressions if the roiling in his stomach was any indication.
He flicked another look at Imhara and
grimaced. Even if she hadn’t risked her cover by protecting him, she was right, his oath bound him. Her threat—and there was no doubt it was one—was reinforced by a glittering gaze, and the stubborn tilt of her chin warned him she wouldn’t back down.
“My patience is gone.” Her arms folded. “Rassan take him to Jawn’s quarters. Your part in this is over, Arek.”
The Na’Chi started toward him.
“Wait.”
Rassan halted, his gaze swirling with just as much impatience as Imhara’s.
Arek licked his lips twice before he could find enough moisture to wet them. “I was three years old when Savyr Gannec killed my mother. My father never reconciled her death and took his own life not long afterward.”
How many times had he uttered those words only to have the hollow maw inside him opened wide until the pain, so familiar and raw, oozed out like an infected wound to poison him, like it was now?
While Imhara’s expression softened momentarily, she shrugged. “So? During his reign as Na’Rei, Savyr’s hurt countless others in a thousand ways. My life, my clan’s lives included. What makes your loss any more tragic than ours or theirs?”
Arek scraped a hand over his face. Where did he start an explanation? Most people within Sacred Lake knew of his past and had never needed to be informed of the entire story.
“Although he didn’t know it at the time, my grandfather killed Savyr’s eldest son in a border skirmish some thirty years ago. Savyr discovered the identity of the Light Blade warrior, then found out he had a daughter. Rather than kill Davyn, to avenge his son’s death he decided to kidnap the warrior’s daughter with the intent of siring a child on her. Once the child was born, he was going to send her home with it.”
“The stigma of a half-demon child.” Rassan shook his head. “A twisted plan but one suited to Savyr.”
Arek nodded. “Indeed.”
He’d never known Davyn to be anything but consumed by the loss of his daughter. Although Savyr would never know it, he’d succeeded in his goal. The shame and humiliation of having a half-blood grandchild had driven Davyn insane, proven when he’d tried to kill her.
“Savyr kept my mother prisoner for a year. She died giving birth, almost thwarted his revenge. Without her alive, no one would ever be able to prove the child’s bloodline.” His mouth twisted in a wry parody of a grin. “But the Lady works in peculiar ways. It took twenty-five years for Savyr’s plan to reach fruition.”
Imhara’s brow creased at his cryptic remark. “What do you mean twenty-five years? How do you know all this if your mother died?”
“Because, just recently, the child she gave birth to escaped to human territory.” Here Arek took another deep breath, fighting to remain calm, but the steady thump, thump of his heart in his chest grew more pronounced. “My grandfather had a picture weaving likeness of my mother. Annika Gannec is the spitting image of her. She revealed the details of this story.”
There. He’d said it.
He hadn’t been able to acknowledge Annika as blood-kin that fateful day in the apartment when Davyn had tried to kill her. Nor had he uttered the words the day of the failed rescue mission when he’d asked Kalan to apologize to her for not getting to know her sooner.
Now he had, out loud. Finally.
Rassan uttered a hoarse curse and Imhara’s expression morphed as they both made the connection. Although he doubted either felt the horror he’d experienced being related to a demon. Or the anger of being betrayed by a man he’d loved like a father all of his life, despite his flaws and their numerous disagreements.
They were worlds apart in that respect.
“Annika is your half sister?” Imhara’s eyebrows shot up. “Merciful Mother!” She shared an astonished look with Rassan. For several heartbeats no one said anything, then, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
Before he could answer, Rassan spoke up.
“Imhara, he’s never experienced the Old Ways until now. See this from his point of view.”
Her frown deepened and her gaze turned inward. She nodded slowly. “You’re ashamed of having a half-blood sister.”
While her tone remained neutral, said aloud the words heated his cheeks.
“There is that, but I’m trying to deal with it or was before I was captured.”
He wasn’t going to hide from the truth. Not this time. He’d done that by ignoring Annika, denying their familial relationship just as Davyn had, allowing blind hatred to cloud his judgment. He was the poorer one for it.
He grunted silently. Kalan and Kymora had tried to counsel him. He’d never really listened. The Lady hadn’t given up on him, Her patience and guidance endless, although he hadn’t realized that until now. Kalan had always claimed he was bullheaded. It’d taken the failed rescue mission, a crofter’s death, being claimed by Imhara, and seeing Savyr in person to teach him that lesson.
And, if he searched deep within, he was grateful. He didn’t want to end up like his grandfather, bitter and intractable, consumed in his hatred like an addict on haze—a poisonous attitude that would possess him all his remaining years.
“You’re talking about the other Na’Chi living at Sacred Lake.” Rassan’s soft comment drew him from his thoughts. “Your connection with them.”
“They helped me adjust to the revelations that came with Annika’s appearance in our lives.” Lady, how he missed Varian and the company of some of the other scouts he’d trained with. “Their leader is much like you, Rassan. He’s a friend.” This time his smile was genuine. “You’re both men I admire and respect.”
Bronze flashed in the flecks of Rassan’s eyes. The warrior’s dark lips curved into a slow grin and he gave a nod of acknowledgment. “And your friend’s name?”
“Varian.”
Rassan grunted. “One day I would very much like to meet him, and the other Na’Chi. We owe them a debt of gratitude for opening your eyes.”
Imhara strode away from the table to the other side of the tent, her head bowed in thought. When she turned around, the resolute expression was back. His smile faded.
“As startling as your information is, your inability to control yourself around Savyr threatened every plan we put in place.”
Her accusation stung but he accepted it. “What happened caught me as much by surprise as you. But it’s a mistake I won’t repeat again.”
“I can’t take that chance, Arek.”
“You and I share a common goal.” Her flat-out denial shot a frisson of uncertainty down his spine. “You know what this means to me.”
His voice was on the rough side of hoarse. He closed his eyes, regretting that his statement came across more as an allegation than a reasonable accounting of facts. Lady’s Breath, he hadn’t displayed this lack of self-control since he’d first started Light Blade training.
“What about the next time you’re in Savyr’s company?” The scorn in her tone snapped his eyes open and triggered a furious rush of heat inside him.
“I’m not some green scout out on the training field,” he retorted. “Give me some credit for being able to adapt.”
“Slaves mean very little to any Na’Reish.” Her mouth flattened. “Particularly Savyr. To him you only serve two purposes—to be used for food or for his pleasure. You amused him this time. Give him the smallest reason, and he’ll end your life with the snap of his fingers.” Creases appeared in the skin around her eyes. “Another slave will replace you before your body turns cold.”
Her concern was strangely comforting, yet her doubt niggled and prodded his guilt. Yrenna had suffered because of his lack of control. Still he pushed on.
“You can’t do this without me.”
Her raised eyebrow said otherwise.
She was intractable as Kalan when her mind was set. He’d worked with his friend too many years to know that pushing her wouldn’t be a smart move.
Reining in his frustration, Arek gave a rough sigh and adopted a more neutral tone. “What can I do to convince y
ou?” He spread his hands wide. “I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?”
The inflection in her tone gave him pause yet he nodded. Her gaze turned thoughtful. He held his breath, hope rising. After a moment, a small smile curved her lips. He frowned.
What was she thinking?
“All right.” She made her way toward him. “You have tonight to persuade me.”
Her gaze raked over him, head to toe, the transformation into Na Kaal so flawless he blinked. Her blatant perusal and the touch of her hand against the bare skin of his arm set his pulse racing.
“If you truly want a second chance, let me tell you what I expect.” She circled him like a lira stalking her prey. “Tonight you show me you can be the perfect slave. You’ll serve my every need, every command, every desire. No avoiding my questions. No protesting my orders. No hiding your scent.”
Holy Mother of Light. What did she plan on doing?
“I don’t want a Light Blade warrior. I don’t want a man who plays at being a slave when it suits him. I want someone I can trust. Someone who can perform the role required of him regardless of his personal desires.”
Her pointed look brought another flush of heat to his cheeks.
“I can’t be second-guessing or worrying about your actions every time we mix with other Na’Reish. By tomorrow morning we have to be a team, but I don’t think you’re capable of doing what I want.” Imhara placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in against his back. Warm, moist breath brushed against his neck, prickled his flesh. “You still don’t trust me.”
Her accusation lashed at him, stirred his guilt.
“It’s all or nothing, Arek.” A challenge, and while softly spoken, the warning was also clear. “You refuse an order or lie to me, your chance ends.”
Her hand trailed over his jaw, her touch searing across his skin as she completed her circuit and came to a halt in front of him. Her fingers came to rest on his neck, just beneath his jaw, and he had little doubt she could feel the rapid beat of his pulse in the vein there.
“Care to prove me wrong? Do you have the self-control you claim to possess?”
Allegiance Sworn (A NOVEL OF THE LIGHT BLADE) Page 20