Mating Rituals

by Tina Gayle

  His luck had abandoned him today.

  With the Trisar package due in two days, his meeting with Lord Kaleva tonight, and his dad adding pressure with the Morrison brothers, the burn of juggling too many fires churned through Stihl’s stomach.

  Having Cyd escort Marohka to the train should’ve been a minor bump to his busy day.

  “There’s no time to search for her now.” Stihl refused to let her disappearance cost him the plans he’d made with his last investor. If he did, it might jeopardize the Trisar deal. He needed this deal to fund the success of his family’s mining operation and reject his father’s plan of strip mining the ranch. Marohka, it appeared, had other plans too.

  Upset with her, Stihl felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten. He’d suspected she’d try something. Had even mistakenly thought he’d covered the problem, but she outflanked him. With a deep breath, he turned to stare out the large picture window at the end of the table. The transporter was ready to depart, and onlookers waved their farewells. The train’s engines vibrated under his feet.

  He couldn’t blame Cyd. He’d tried everything to secure Marohka. The girl just liked to be difficult.

  “It’s not your fault. With the Trisar deal on my mind, I forgot about the hive she lives in. It’s honeycombed with secret passages.” Stihl shrugged, a nagging sense of failure building in his chest. “I should’ve had all the exits covered, but I didn’t plan for her to act so quickly. If I ever catch her, I won’t underestimate her again.”

  Cyd smiled, relief apparent in his eyes. “Well, you’ve got to admit, she’s clever. I wasn’t able to find a single trace of where she disappeared to.”

  “Yeah, but I bet she had help.” Stihl wondered how best to proceed. “Dad will find her. After all, how many unmated Royals are there running around in the streets?” He glanced out the window. “With a wimple on her head, she’ll be easy to spot.”

  “But what if she trashes the thing?” Cyd asked.

  “She won’t. It’s a tradition for unmated royal girls to wear one.”

  Cyd’s eyebrows lifted. “Yeah, but?”

  Stihl remembered what he read in her report. She followed Lustralia rituals faithfully by attending the mating ball every season for the last eight years. Her apartment was located in the housing provided for unmated Royal women. The pictures in the file showed her wearing the wimple in public. No, the gray areas of tradition were the only place where she’d extended her liberties.

  “She could leave it off, but the hat gives her protection from unwanted male attention.” Stihl shrugged. “As for me, she sees me as a minor annoyance, not her mate.”

  “Then why did she run out on you?” Cyd brushed his hair back. “What was she afraid of?”

  “I don’t know.” Stihl remembered Marohka’s determination to not lose the duel. She even resented him beating her, but he hadn’t revealed his plans for the future. “Maybe, she hoped to avoid having to move in with me.”

  “Is that why you wanted me to bring her to the train station?” Cyd glanced out the window. “I thought you just planned to say good-bye.”

  “No, I wanted to take her back with us.”

  “But the law states she only has to see you occasionally during the thawing period.”

  Stihl stacked up his paperwork. “Yes, but most couples today live together after the girl’s father gives his approval.” He placed his work case on the table. “I don’t have time for a long distance courtship like my brothers did. Dad wants proof of us bonding, before he’ll back me at the next family meeting.”

  Cyd shook his head. “Do you think she suspected what you were up to?”

  “Who knows?” Stihl stashed away his paperwork. “We might as well grab some food.”

  “Could you already be telepathically linked?”

  Stihl turned to his friend. The humorous glint in Cyd’s eyes sparked ideas of Marohka reading his mind. “There’s no way.”

  “Any visions of her?”

  “Of Marohka?”

  Cyd nodded.

  “Yes, but none I’m willing to share.” Stihl smiled. A few heated fantasies flashed in his head over the last few zitons about her lying warm and willing under him.

  “How about,” Cyd prodded, “where she might be hiding?”

  “Not that I recall.” Stihl’s mind, packed full of nothing but Marohka and getting to Central City, sped through his to-do list.

  Both served a purpose. With her in hand, he would gain his father’s support and be one step closer to receiving his inheritance. He also needed to return to Central City to talk to Lord Kaleva. The man’s involvement would contribute more to the profit of the Trisar deal.

  “It won’t hurt to try, Stihl. Your father says he knows where your mother is every ziton of the day. And even your brother, Joha, says he sees flashes of places his wife is going. Who knows? If you concentrate on her, maybe we’ll learn something.”

  Stihl gave his friend a doubtful glance, leaned his head back against the headrest, and closed his eyes.

  Marohka.

  He pictured her in his head the way she looked during their match. She reminded him of a tabby cat. If riled, she’d be untamed and wild. Then once satisfied, she’d be cuddly and submissive. Both captivated his desires.

  The tight braid she’d forced her hair into hadn’t been able to contain it. Somewhere during their fight, her hair had broken free and had tumbled down around her shoulders like an autumn spray of leaves. A wild mixture of colors had sparkled from light brown to strawberry blonde. Her green tiger-eyes had never relaxed their surveillance. Not even after she’d lost the match did her focus waiver.

  With her soft beneath him, he’d fought the urge to stroke her luscious body until she purred with desire and curled her legs around his waist. Stihl smiled at the idea of running his hands along her enticing curves. His mind shifted to a picture of a transporter pulling into a station. He opened his eyes and glared out the window.

  The train, running parallel to the loading gateway, pulled into the last stop before the four-ziton trip to Central City. “This isn’t working.”

  “What did you see?”

  He glancing at his friend then turned back to the window. “I saw us entering the station.” He stared at the crowd. “Which means if it’s a clue, she’s either out there waiting to board or already on the train.”

  “Why don’t I go look for her?” Cyd jumped to his feet. “She could be on the train, and we wouldn’t even know it.”

  Stihl grabbed his friend’s arm before Cyd stepped to the door. “No, let’s wait. I don’t want her slipping away if we happen to be right. We’ll search for her after the train leaves the station. That way she has no means of escape.”

  Sighing, Cyd sat back down. The frustration of the moment held both men silent.

  “You know, the vision might not apply to this train. It might simply be a reflection of our arrival at the station.” Stihl thought the chances of them both taking the same transporter out of town couldn’t be very high.

  “Hmmm.”

  “Cyd, there’s no point in getting up our hopes.” He noticed his friend’s preoccupation with someone outside the window and scanned the crowd. “What do you see?”

  “Look at the lady in the green cloak. The way she moves reminds me of—” His words stopped. “I’m not sure. I can’t catch sight of her face but—there, did you see that?” His voice rang with excitement, and he pointed to the lady in crowd.

  Stihl studied the woman. From their current angle, other passengers blocked his view of her form. Shrouded in her coat with a hood covering her head, it could be anyone. “She looks about Marohka’s size and—” He stopped. The woman’s head shifted slight to the right. “There’s something about . . .”

  Both men waited until the lady in question turned and glanced around with a frown at the crowd. A green wimple framed the edge of her face surrounded by a hood, which covered her head.

  Stihl grinned. “Gotcha.”
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br />   Chapter Three

  Thick colorful coats formed a padded cocoon around Marohka. She’d taken every precaution imaginable to avoid discovery. The closer she stepped toward the transporter, the stronger the tingling sensation running along her spine grew. Someone, somewhere, traced her steps.

  Slowly, so as not to draw any notice, she checked over her right shoulder, scanned the crowd, and searched for a man with blue hair. Instead, she caught the innocent smile of a small boy. Uneasy, she nodded and turned. She lacked the patience to face that particular fear today. Edging closer to the train, she waited her turn to board.

  Her mind sped over the list of things she needed to do once she arrived in Central City. First, she had to confirm the reports coming out about the Trisar’s mine at one of the outpost offices. Then she’d arrange for alba-oxen to carry her to the mine. If all went well, she’d be deep in Lustralia’s outback by late afternoon.

  Surrounded by excited people, Marohka noticed the charged energy dancing in the air. Notes of joyful laughter sang, cleft by cries of delight. Both blended to create a cheerful song of bliss. Caught up in the festive mood and with her feet firmly planted on the train, Marohka’s spirits lifted.

  Each activity fed the passengers’ eagerness to get under way. Walking down the aisle, people worked their way to their assigned seats. Only the slight vibration under her feet indicated the departure from the station. Then with a silent whoosh and a dipping sensation, which rushed through the pit of her stomach, the train surged forward on a gush of power.

  Marohka sighed. With this being the last stop for Royal City, some of her fears fell away. She’d managed to outsmart Stihl and stood one step closer toward achieving her goal.

  The smiling T-rep punched her ticket before passing her on his way through the cabin. A smile bloomed on her face. Nothing could stop her now. The path in front of her cleared. Marohka edged her way farther along the aisle, until a large man dressed in black blocked her way.

  “Hello, Princess. Glad you could join me.”

  Marohka glanced up. Stihl stood in her path. Trapped, she quickly peeked over her shoulder for an exit route. The blue-haired giant she’d escaped earlier stood a few steps away. Her heart fell.

  No place to flee.

  “How did you find me?” she demanded in a loud voice.

  Stihl caught her hand. Whether to restrain her or comfort her, she couldn’t tell. “Why don’t we head to our cabin? We’re in the next car.”

  Ready to argue, the slight pressure of his hand stopped her words of anger. He smiled at the people near them. Curious eyes bore into her, waiting for her reaction. Cornered by her good manners, she nodded and followed him along the aisle.

  She tugged on her hand and whispered. “Let go. There’s no way I can escape.”

  Stihl didn’t alter his pace or release her hand. Her anger grew. How dare he track her down like a criminal? She’d done nothing wrong. All right, maybe she’d escaped his guard, but she owed him nothing.

  At the door of his cabin, she marched past him without acknowledging his presence. Bold red cushions and white walls greeted her. The bright color was an unwelcome surprise. Most of the cabins were decorated in ground tones of brown and tan. The tall cushions on both walls fed into long bench seats. A sleeper car. Her anxiety grew.

  She walked to the far end of the bench seat, wrapped her cloak around her waist, and settled onto the cushion. The past few zitons flashed through her head. After escaping the center, she’d managed to hop on a transit rail and travel across town to catch the train to Central City. Along the way, someone had stolen her luggage, and the black cloud of doubt had dogged her steps, but she hadn’t turned back. Yet, after everything, he’d still found her. Nothing was working out like she’d planned.

  “A coward,” sang through her thoughts like a tribal chant. Even if she blamed him for the whole horrible mess, she still couldn’t ease her guilt over her actions of skipping out.

  I have to face him head-on. Her decision renewed her energy, and she turned.

  Stihl stood next to the door, talking to his friend. The sight of his bulging muscles increased her pulse. Dressed in tight black pants, he wore a short-sleeve shirt that revealed the long tan column of his neck. A sprinkle of his dark chest hair glowed against his tan skin. He looked like a display model for a fantasy lover. A tingle of awareness ran through her, but she refused to give credence to her illusion.

  “That should do it.” He slapped the large man on the back. The blue-haired giant left, and Stihl turned. “Would you like me to take your coat? I’ll hang it in the closet for safe keeping.”

  Because of the temperature in the room, she didn’t require a coat, but she hesitated to give it up. Her cloak offered a thin layer of protection.

  Confused by his pleasant tone, she searched his face for any sign of resentment or anger. Surprise, his expression held none. She balked at the evidence, and doubts about his motives clouded her mind. What was the man up to?

  The fear coursing through her blood forced her to her feet. She shoved the hood from her head, loosened the tie, and undid the snaps on the front of her cloak. Her wrinkled clothes wouldn’t place her in the running for Stihl’s fantasy lover. She opened her coat. His eyes narrowed, and heat entered his gaze. A shiver raced down her spine.

  “Why don’t we cut the niceties?” Marohka clutched the lapel of her coat. “Why did you follow me?”

  Stihl stepped closer. Avoiding him, she pivoted on her heels. His firm hands lifted the weight of her coat from her shoulders. Marohka remembered those hands. A flash of their gentle strength sent a twinge of awareness over her skin, and the memory of their kiss after the mating duel sped through her mind.

  “Who said I was following you?”

  Stihl’s breath caressed her ear. Marohka shied away from the seductive warmth. Her next words sounded harsher with her attempt to squash the trembling nerves in her stomach. “Then how did you find out I’d be on this transporter?”

  “I didn’t,” he said, crowding her with his presence. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you out the window boarding the train.”

  She stepped forward to escape him and turned. “You want me to believe you haven’t been pursuing me?”

  Marohka crossed her arms over the bag lying on her chest. It held the only items she had left for the trip. “What kind of idiot do you think I am?”

  “I don’t think you’re an idiot at all.” Stihl threw her coat over his arm. “As a matter of fact, I believe you’re a very smart lady, which is why we should discuss our future together.” He paused. “Would you like me to store your body-pack in the closet too?”

  She slipped the straps off her shoulders and handed him the bag. “Thanks.” Watching him closely, she fumbled with her gloves and stuffed them into the pocket of her pants.

  “Look, whether you believe it or not, I’m not the enemy. I can help you.” After storing her things, he stepped to the bench opposite her and sat. “We can help each other.”

  Unwilling to buy into the nice guy act, Marohka retook her seat. “And how, may I ask, do you plan on helping me?”

  “Isn’t the award for best mineralogist up for grabs? If my sources are right, you’ll win.”

  She worked very hard to receive the highest recovery rating. The prize should be hers. But how did the award have any bearing on their relationship?

  “I deserve to win.”

  “No doubt about it. But”—Stihl paused—“if someone on the council of elders said you don’t deserve it. Well then.” He studied his hands. “I’d say you wouldn’t have much of a chance.”

  Not liking the implied threat, Marohka voiced her fury. “Are you telling me your father would black ball me because I’m . . . what . . . not living with you?”

  Stihl slid back in his seat and smiled.

  Whatever the man’s strategy, he exudes the confidence to win. She shrugged. If she lost the award, so what. She’d lost before. But his father could ruin her career
.

  “Let’s just say my father will do anything to make me happy.”

  “So what do you want?” Marohka barked in a tight voice. “Because if you think I’m blending with you, you’re mistaken.”

  “No, I’m only after a little cooperation. Promise to stay with me. We’ll get to know each other and see what develops.”

  She didn’t answer, and Stihl continued. “No other strings.”

  “And tell me why I should believe you.” Marohka knotted her hands in her lap. After his veiled threat, she had no reason to trust his promises.