by Mary Calmes
A tall blond man who resembled Logan stood on the long porch of the huge three-story house, and when he gestured for us, the men with the guns strode forward, which moved our small company along. We stopped at the base of the steps, and Logan looked up at him.
“This is a surprise.”
The man cleared his throat. “Father reached out to me, and I realized it was finally time to accept my birthright.”
“You have no birthright,” Logan said implacably. “You’re third-born, Russ. Koren comes before you.”
Russ lifted his hand, though, and another man who looked a lot like both Logan and him moved in close. Easy to surmise who I was looking at.
“I secede my position as heir to Russ,” Koren replied, “and act as his second in his bid to become semel of the tribe of Mafdet.”
It was heresy, and even I knew that much. An older man came out of the house and joined the other two on the porch.
“I am Peter Church, patriarch of the Church line, guardian of the lineage, and as such, give my youngest son my blessing and name him semel-bennu, semel to be named, after the challenge is made.”
I knew grandstanding when I heard it. Memory or not, it was easy to discern.
Logan grunted. “I see, so you’re going to fight me in the pit, Russ?”
He nodded. “I will, and as states the law, your sheseru and sylvan will fight with you there against me and mine.”
I turned to look at Artem.
“But as you have not confirmed Artem Varda publicly since the death of Avery Cadim, and since you have no sylvan, it will be you alone facing me and my two choices.”
I waited breathlessly as two more men joined Logan’s father and brothers on the porch. They were both huge, and Logan grunted.
“This is Vincent Rector, who you met before in the pit in Mongolia during the trial for semel-aten,” Russ intoned deeply, “and this is Sasha Orlov, who—”
“I know Sasha,” Logan cut him off, and I saw Sasha smirk at my mate.
“—our father wanted you to make sylvan instead of Mikhail.”
“Yes,” Logan agreed softly, taking hold of my hand. “When will this trial take place?”
Russ answered, “At dusk on Sunday.”
Logan nodded. “I ask in the meantime that any who prefer not to remain in the tribe be allowed to leave and any who are loyal to me be allowed to come to me in my new quarters.”
“Of course,” Russ agreed, and his voice softened before he spoke the rest. “If I could make this transition without spilling any blood, Logan, I would. I don’t want to kill you, but to become semel, I have no choice.”
I dropped Logan’s hand and clutched at his arm, holding on for dear life.
Russ continued. “I realized a few years ago that the real reason I wanted nothing to do with being a panther was that I knew I could never be what I was born to be.”
“Semel,” Logan finished for him.
“Yes. I was supposed to be semel, and I’ve spent my whole life hiding from that fact. When Father called me… reaching out… I knew that it was fate.”
Logan just stood there, listening.
“I mated a year ago, and I already have a son,” Russ explained solemnly. “Father told me that a traditional family, a traditional semel and yareah to lead the tribe, is exactly what’s needed.”
“Traditional,” Logan repeated under his breath before raising his voice so it could be heard. “Tell me what you will do with my family if you win.”
Russ looked pained. “I’m sorry, Logan, but you know the law. If no one will claim your mate, he will fall under the knife, and your son—he dies with you.”
I jolted, but more than the fear, I felt something new.
Anger.
How dare he threaten the semel-netjer? Who did he think he was? Some pretender put forth by Logan’s father? And why would Peter Church betray his son? His heir? And Koren? How the hell did any of these men simply ignore the laws of lineage?
I grasped Logan’s arm tight, and he turned to me, concerned, ready to reassure me, but he stopped when he saw my face.
“Jin?”
Laws of lineage… how did I…. “They can’t do what they’re doing without just cause,” I apprised my mate. “What is the reasoning?”
Logan put his arm around me, drawing me close before returning his attention to the porch where his family stood. “What are the charges against me? How are you challenging me for the title of semel?”
Russ came down the stairs, and everyone followed until he stood directly in front of Logan. “Your reah makes you weak, brother. He makes your tribe strong, makes your claim strong, but he makes you, yourself, too weak to lead. It’s the piece that no one explains: that a reah brings peace and prosperity to a tribe but makes the semel half of himself.” He took a breath and then stepped back, addressing everyone. “While Jin was gone, Logan was distant and cold and forgot his duty to the tribe, to the business that supports the tribe, and to his own son. He’s been unwilling to heed counsel and has been unwavering in the belief of his own poor decisions. When Koren brought him a proposal that would enrich the tribe, he turned his back on both his brother and the opportunity.”
Logan dropped his arm from my shoulders and took hold of my hand again.
“A good semel would never forsake the whole for the one, even if that one is his true-mate,” Russ proclaimed to Logan as well as everyone gathered in front of the house. “Because of this, because you have sacrificed the good of the tribe for your own selfish interests and have forsaken the counsel of all others, I hereby challenge you, Logan Church, for your place as semel of the tribe of Mafdet.”
I wasn’t surprised at the cheer. They’d had time while Logan was gone collecting me to prime the crowd for an overthrow. Logan had to have been strong but still reserved and detached for nearly half a year before he was told where I was.
They wanted us out. They were done being the tribe with the semel-netjer and the freaky nekhene cat and the aberration that was our son. The tribe wanted normal, not us.
“After the challenge,” Russ continued, “I will release Rector and will claim for my sheseru, Artem Varda, as he fought bravely for what he believed in and should be rewarded.”
We all turned to him.
“I would not be your sheseru,” he told Russ.
“You will,” Russ contradicted, moving over in front of the bigger man. “You saw Avery Cadim as ignoring his position of sheseru just as I have seen the fault in my own brother. And while Logan, in his grief, did not respect his pact with you, I assure you that I will. I value your commitment to the tribe, and as everyone here honors you, so will I.”
The cheer from the crowd, in support of Russ’s announcement, was deafening.
I knew Artem couldn’t help but be moved by the support of his tribe and the words of the would-be semel. He’d been acting the part of a sheseru, but apparently Logan had not formally named him to the position. It was one thing to kill a challenger; it was another for the semel to announce to everyone Artem’s place and make that rank official.
And as I stood there and understood that, as the reasoning flooded my mind, I had an epiphany.
I was remembering the law.
Squeezing Logan’s hand, I nodded quickly, and he eased out of my grip to face Artem.
“I should have named you,” Logan said softly. “But Russ is right. I was lost in my own tragedy and so forgot to give you the honor for fighting for what you believed in when I was too blind to see what was going on under my own roof.”
“My semel, I—”
Logan lifted his hand for silence. “Had I made you mine, you would be standing beside me in the pit, and there’s only one other I would have before you.”
Artem nodded quickly.
“But Russ is not semel and so cannot claim what is not yet his. So I say to you that the line of Varda stands as sheseru to the tribe of Mafdet. Whoever sits as semel, there is no choice for sheseru but you, and after you,
your line.”
“I am humbled by your faith, my semel.”
Logan then looked to Russ. “Are we agreed?”
Russ glanced over at his father, and Peter Church nodded quickly. It made sense to solidify power with a man everyone already respected becoming sheseru. That way Russ had as sheseru everyone’s choice for the role and for sylvan, a man Peter had wanted Logan to accept for the position. “Of course we are,” Russ announced, and another cheer went up.
The tribe was hungry for a change in leadership, and even though I was certain that Logan had given them years of stability and growth, they needed to see their semel, interact with him, and apparently Logan had removed himself and me from them, even before the incident. We were like royalty, while the tribe wanted their semel to be one of them. And while I understood, I also knew that for a semel to lead effectively, he had to be above all others so he could sit as father to all, as well as king. They didn’t know what they were about to give up, but they would.
Logan nodded, and Artem went to his knees in front of Russ, who reached out and put his hand firmly on his shoulder.
“Artem Varda is hereby named sheseru of the tribe of Mafdet immediately following the challenge for semel.”
Because no matter what Russ or Peter said, Artem was not going to eviscerate Logan in the pit. That was what Vincent was for.
Logan took hold of my hand again. “I would like to see my son.”
“Of course,” Russ agreed quickly. “All your possessions, as well as your mate’s, have been relocated to the guesthouse toward the back of the property.”
Apparently Russ had already moved his wife and son into Logan’s home.
“Do I have your leave?” Logan asked.
It had to be weird for Russ to have his oldest brother ask for permission, but he nodded quickly, gave an imperious wave, and we were allowed to head to the guesthouse.
“My semel,” Artem gasped, barring our path.
Logan put a hand on Artem’s cheek. “Forgive me for my lapse in duty, and should he win, serve Ruslan well. He’ll need you, and your place, as well as that of your sons, is secured.”
“Because of you,” he whispered.
“No,” Logan sighed, patting his cheek before dropping his hand away, “because of you, Artem, and your loyalty to the tribe. You saw what needed to be done when I didn’t—when I couldn’t. I was lost, but you were here, present, and besides Crane and Yusuke and Andrian, I had no one else to trust. So please, there’s been no lapse in duty to me, and if you serve Russ, know that you do so with both my blessing and thanks.”
“I don’t want you to die,” he told Logan.
“I don’t want to die either,” Logan conceded with a grin.
Artem nodded quickly before glancing over at me. I was taken aback by the anger in his gaze, but at the same time, it made sense. If Logan had never met me, his tribe would not be losing him. I was the reason for everything, and if I were Artem Varda, I would hate the mate of my semel as well.
Logan rounded on Andrian. “You need to go home and pack up your family and be prepared to leave with us when we go.”
“When we go, my semel? Where are we going?”
“We’re leaving the tribe, one way or another. They don’t want me here, and I’m not forcing my rule on anyone. But I’m taking people with me, and you and your family don’t have a choice. You’re with me.”
“Yes, my semel, and I— It means more than you know that you would simply assume I would follow you.”
“Your loyalty to me is absolute,” Logan said, matter-of-fact, reaching out and squeezing Andrian’s bicep. “You are head of my khatyu, and even though those men have turned on me, I know you never would. Wherever I go, I want you and your family there with me. So, do as I say: go home, collect them, and then find a hotel in Reno and wait for my call. You need to be safely away from here.”
“I would prefer to be close to you and my reah.”
“Yes, but I can’t offer sanctuary, not yet. I’ll be able to once Domin gets here, but right now, I’m worried. I can’t do anything about those that used to live in the main house with Jin and me, but you and your family, I can. Do what I say.”
He nodded.
“I wish there was anyone to send with you, but Markel hasn’t fought in so long that his instinct for it is gone, and Yusuke has to stay here to protect her children.” Logan sighed. “And Artem won’t help anymore—he can’t.”
“I’ll be fine. They can’t keep me on the grounds. Why would they?” It would make no sense. If Logan’s khatyu now belonged to Russ, Andrian was no threat to him and, therefore, unimportant.
Logan surprised Andrian when he suddenly hugged him and then gave him a quick pat before turning to resume our walk.
Glancing back at Andrian, the smile he gave me was so very kind. At that moment I wished to God I could remember him. He’d said he was the first one I ever met here, and I wanted to think about that now as I lifted my hand and he returned the wave. I wanted to remember when it was that our bond had been forged.
As we joined Crane and Yusuke in their walk toward the guesthouse, I clutched at Logan’s hand, terrified to see Ilia and frightened by the events of the day.
THE HOUSE was not what I was expecting. While it was quite a bit smaller than the main one, it was still a large shed-style with huge windows. As soon as we got close, the front door opened and two little girls who couldn’t have been more than two years old flew out onto the porch and scrambled down the stairs.
Crane dropped to his knees, and both of them peeled across the yard to him, tackling him hard, chubby little arms wrapping around his neck as they squealed with joy. When Yusuke joined them, they were all four a warm ball of joyful homecoming.
“Logan!”
A woman yelled out to him and seconds later came racing toward us. He caught her when she leaped at him and crushed her to his muscular chest. The man who followed her out moved to reach Logan as well and put his hand on his shoulder. Logan turned with the woman still wrapped around him and threw an arm around his neck, hauling him close.
Not wanting to intrude, I stepped back as an older woman came running from the house, and Logan had just enough time to put down the younger one and release the man before she flung herself at him. He swept her up easily and hugged her tight.
I had no idea what to do. Standing there, watching, seemed rude, so I walked a few more paces away, trying to offer them some semblance of privacy. I was about to excuse myself altogether when the smell hit me. It was like a rush of freshly mown grass, sunshine on clothes, and a fire on a crisp fall day. I inhaled deeply as I felt warmth roll through my entire body. When I wheeled around to look for what could be causing the scent and sensation, I saw the black cub bounding from the woods toward me in an all-out dash.
Ilia.
I couldn’t recall anyone telling me that he was a black panther, but it made sense as I was as well. Bolting forward, we met in a crush of arms and paws, and his sweet whines changed to whimpering in moments and I had a little boy in my arms hugging the daylights out of me.
“Oh, honey,” I crooned, my tears coming fast as I took off my cardigan and wrapped him up in it, petting his hair and hugging him so hard he squeaked followed instantly by an eruption of giggling.
“Papa,” he sang out, kissing my cheek as he tried to burrow closer. “You came home! I knew you would. Everyone said you were lost, but I knew you weren’t—I knew you’d find me even if we moved from the big house down here.”
“Yes,” I cried. “I’ll always find you.”
“You were scared you hurt me, huh?”
“I was,” I said, my nose already clogging with tears.
“You could never, I know that. I just got scared, and then Dedushka acted like he hated me, and he still is… but not you and Daddy, huh? You don’t hate me.”
“Oh no,” I said, squeezing him again. “I love you and Daddy more than anything.”
Suddenly I reeled, t
he pain at the base of my skull like an ice pick being driven into my brain.
“I love you,” Ilia cried.
Oh God, how much did I love him back? Before he was born, I’d thought I could never love anyone or anything as much as Logan, but then Ilia was there, in my arms and… it just happened. I did. I loved him. He was my whole life. It was different, the love for a child, and more humbling than anything I’d ever experienced. My heart was there, in my son, separate from me, walking around like he owned the world.
My son. I remembered the day he was born… and I remembered the day I thought I killed him.
It had all started because Avery Cadim never thought I was special. He’d given a lot of lip service to it, had professed to understand, and had sworn to Logan that he believed I was a marvel, but deep down, where it counted, he thought all the hoopla was crap. I understood, I did, I was just me; there was no reason for Avery to have to buy into the whole mystique of the nekhene or believe in the blessing a reah brought to a semel and therefore the tribe. I was fine with his indifference because he served Logan, absolutely worshipped my mate. The issue was that because he wasn’t being my champion or training the khatyu—they were led by Andrian—Avery ended up with a lot of time on his hands.
Logan was, as usual, with Ilia, trying to impart discipline and caution. So much of his days were spent driving home the idea of boundaries and limits. He was absent from many meetings with his father and others because of his son. So Artem had taken his thoughts and fears to his maahen, to Yusuke, down on one knee in the great room, asking for her blessing as I watched.
“A sheseru cannot have a divided loyalty between the desires of the flesh and service to his semel and reah. If he’s mated, then the mate comes first, then semel and the semel’s mate. If he’s not mated, then the semel and his mate are first. Avery is mated but puts neither his own mate nor semel and reah first. Instead he places the greatest attention on sleeping with the mate of another,” Artem finished, almost spitting out the last of his words, clearly incensed.