War Bride (Battle Born Book 7)

by Cyndi Friberg

  The pain she’d sensed within his mind flashed into his eyes as he whispered, “Arton is my son, but that’s all I’ll say about him.”

  He’d spoken of his mate in the past tense, yet Arton still resided in the present. If the child was alive, why did thoughts of him cause Kryton so much pain?

  “I’m sorry I scanned you.” When he did nothing but stare back at her, she added, “It won’t happen again.”

  His fingers tightened against her arms. She thought he’d yank her closer and resume their battle of wills. Instead, he pushed her back and let go. “I’ll send Tonn to clean up the mess. Don’t open the door for anyone else.”

  Chapter Four

  As promised, Tonn arrived a short time later and cleared away the dishes. “Was something wrong with the food?” He glanced at her then went back to shoveling the uneaten entrees into the recycling unit.

  “We were distracted.” The word didn’t begin to describe the conflict building between her and Kryton, but it was the best she could do right now.

  Tonn released a snorty sort of laugh. “I just bet you were.”

  She tried to assist him, but he wouldn’t let her. Finally tired of being shooed away, she stood back and watched as he worked. “Why are you the only one he trusts to come near me?”

  Tonn’s brows arched as he paused to look at her. “Would you rather have someone else?”

  “No. I was just wondering why he trusts you more than anyone else. Are you related or something?”

  “I’ve known General Lux longer than you’ve been alive.”

  She wasn’t sure if he realized he’d repeated the blunder or if he just didn’t care if she knew. Either way, she didn’t point it out to him. “Were you around when his son was born?”

  He turned from the recycler, clearly shocked by the question. “He told you about his son?”

  She chose her words carefully. If she played this right, she might be able to draw out more information by inferring she knew more than she did. “His name is Arton and his mother passed beyond.” It was a guess. She didn’t know for sure that Kryton’s chosen mate had been Arton’s mother. But it made sense that the two sources of sorrow were connected. “Did she die in childbirth? Is that why it’s so painful for Kryton to speak of him?”

  “I can’t believe he told you anything about Arton. Kryton never speaks of his son.”

  “Why? If Arton is alive, wouldn’t that help ease the pain of losing his morautu?”

  Tonn shook his head, astonishment clear in his expression. “He told you about Jiatta too? This is extraordinary.”

  She moved closer to Tonn and lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “He only told me enough to completely confuse me.” She sighed and glanced away then looked deep into his eyes as she said, “I want to understand him better. Will you please explain what it all means?”

  Motioning her back to the table he’d just cleared, they sat across from each other. “I’m only sharing any of this because he brought it up first. It’s vitally important that he never know I told you.”

  “I understand and appreciate the risk you’re taking.”

  Even with her sincere assurance, he hesitated. “Kryton was very different while Jiatta was still alive. You wouldn’t have recognized him. He laughed and smiled, told jokes and plotted mischief. He would have done anything for her.”

  Not wanting to distract him, she simply nodded.

  “They were ecstatic when Jiatta realized she was going to have his baby. They’d been mated for two years and had begun to wonder if something was wrong.”

  “Did something go wrong with the pregnancy?”

  “In a way.” Tonn averted his gaze and began to fidget. “Arton was born with harbinger coloring.” His eyes shifted back toward her as he asked, “Do you understand what that means?”

  There were no harbingers on Bilarri. Though she also had prophetic dreams and could see into the future, she wasn’t controlled by a ruthless guild. She’d heard horror stories about Harbinger Guild. They were secretive and self-serving. And worst of all, they claimed any child born with silver hair and silver-ringed blue eyes regardless of the parents’ objections. She couldn’t imagine why Rodyte authorities allowed such things to take place. It was barbaric.

  “Harbingers came and took the baby?” She was almost afraid to ask.

  “Not exactly. Kryton managed to hide Arton from the guild for a little over five years. Kryton’s still not sure how they found out.”

  “And there was nothing Kryton could do to stop them from taking the boy?”

  Tonn shook his head, looking pained by the memories. “He wasn’t there when it happened. I’m sure the harbingers planned it that way.”

  “Did he try to get Arton back? Couldn’t he just storm their stronghold and demand his release? Kryton is a general, for creation’s sake.”

  “He tried everything you can imagine, but Harbinger Guild is armed with more than prophetic dreams. They employ a variety of mercenaries from all over the star system. Harbinger Academy is a fortress. Kryton is a favorite of the crown, but even that connection couldn’t force Harbinger Guild to give him back his son. The guild’s right to potential harbingers was established in laws a long time ago.”

  “What?” She’d known the details would be unpleasant, but her stomach was tied in knots and her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. “There are laws giving Harbinger Guild the right to steal children from their families?”

  “Only those with Harbinger coloring.” His resentful tone assured her he was not defending the practice in any way.

  “Why is their coloring so important?”

  He seemed surprised that she didn’t know. “Harbingers are a side effect of genetic manipulation. The anomaly that gives them their powers also results in their unusual coloring.”

  “Does everyone with silver hair and blue eyes end up with prophetic abilities?”

  He shook his head. “The ones who develop their powers naturally are known as organic harbingers. They tend to be more powerful—and more unstable—than transformed harbingers, which are those created through genetic manipulation.”

  Rodytes had been manipulating DNA for decades, often with horrific results. Bilarrians, Skyla included, found the practice appalling. “Is Arton still with the harbingers?”

  Again Tonn nodded. “His abilities are unique and exceptional, so the guild elders guard him like a priceless treasure. Despite all of Kryton’s attempts to rescue Arton, it’s been twelve years since Kryton last saw his son.”

  She pressed her hand over her heart, unable to ease the ache. Those bastards had robbed Kryton of his son’s childhood. Even if they rescued Arton now, he was nearly grown. “No wonder he’s so…intense.” Tonn had no reply, so she risked another question. “How did Jiatta die?”

  “She was murdered by one of Kryton’s enemies. Kryton hunted down everyone who was there and killed them, but he still blames himself for not protecting his morautu.”

  Skyla wasn’t sure which story was sadder. Each left her feeling empty and miserable. “Thank you. This helps a lot.”

  He inclined his head. “Why do you want to understand him better?” A hint of challenge threaded through the question.

  Confiding in Tonn was foolish. Obviously he was close to Kryton, likely more friend than subordinate. There was a distinct possibility that Tonn’s kindness was part of Kryton’s overall strategy, but she had no one else. “If he were the beast he pretends to be, he would have taken what he wanted last night. I’m hoping I can reach the man beneath the anger.”

  Tonn’s lips bowed into a secretive smile, but he didn’t respond to her comment. “His mood was particularly dark when he summoned me. Now I understand why. It’s doubtful he’ll return. You should get some sleep.”

  The door closed behind Tonn, and Skyla’s heart dropped into her belly. Was she disappointed or relieved? She honestly wasn’t sure. She’d thought knowing why Kryton was so angry, so bitter, would help her
deal with him. All it did so far was make her feel sorry for him. A reaction that would enrage him, no doubt.

  She was too agitated to sleep. This was only her second day as a captive and already she was irritable and restless. How in creation was she going to survive nine months or longer? Kryton had promised that things would be different as soon as she surrendered to their attraction. But surrendering to a Rodyte went against her basic nature and everything she’d been taught to believe.

  An exasperated sigh shuddered out as she sank onto one corner of the couch. She kicked off her shoes and drew her legs up under her skirt. Tonn’s explanation left her with more questions than answers. First and foremost, how could a man who had experienced having a child forcibly torn from his life ever consider doing the same thing to someone else?

  Ever since her dreams revealed that she would be captured by a Rodyte, she’d been most bothered by the thought of losing her son. Kryton’s obvious aversion to rape gave her a security she hadn’t expected to have once she became his prisoner. Yet their genetic compatibility was a complication she’d never even considered. The game was rigged against her. Succumbing to his seduction was all but inevitable, but how would she live without her little boy?

  Anger built within her like an ancient engine building up steam. Confronting Kryton in person would incriminate Tonn. But there was another possibility. She was a dream walker. She could slip into Kryton’s dreams and interact with his mind. It would give her the freedom she needed to explore his reactions and emotions. Anything could happen in dreams, so it was doubtful he’d question her knowledge of his mate and little boy.

  A pang of guilt made her pause. She’d promised him that she wouldn’t scan him without his permission. She’d said nothing about dream walking. Besides, he’d kidnapped her. Surely that entitled her to a little misbehavior.

  She rolled her shoulders then scooted down until she lay across the cushions. It had been several months since she dream shared with anyone, but she’d mastered the skills long ago. She took a deep breath and cleared her mind, releasing the tension and silencing all the questions. Once she achieved a calm sort of emptiness, she projected her being across the metaphysical plane, using Kryton’s image to guide her.

  Locating him was easy. Already their spirits had connected. Her soul sensed a potential mate and was drawing her toward him, making resistance harder with each encounter. Unfortunately, Kryton was brooding rather than sleeping, so she released the trance with a frustrated sigh.

  She read for an hour at the work station then tried again, but Kryton was still awake.

  After finishing the book and wandering around the cabin, examining every corner of her new cage, she finally felt drowsy. So she went to the bedroom, decreased the lighting to a faint glow, then undressed. Sleepwear was the only garment Tonn had neglected, but Skyla didn’t care. As long as she was sleeping alone, naked was fine with her.

  As her mind settled down and she waited for sleep to claim her, she decided to try connecting with Kryton one last time. His churning energy drew her toward him, the path even easier to navigate than it had been before. An image appeared in her mind, growing more detailed and more tangible as she opened herself to the connection. It was imperative that she match her energy to his or he would sense her presence in his dream.

  She hovered beyond the scene for a moment, observing rather than participating in the dream. He stood beside a bed wearing only his uniform pants. His big body blocked her view of the person lying on the bed, but they were bound both hands and feet, open and helpless before him.

  “Are you finally going to end these foolish games?” His voice sounded gruff and demanding.

  She eased around him, knowing what she’d find, yet unprepared for the impact of the image. She saw herself spread-eagled, naked, and trembling. But she looked flushed and hungry rather than terrified.

  Unwilling to let his idea of her ruin this opportunity, she sank into her image and took control. “I didn’t start ‘these games’. You did.”

  He bent one knee on the bed then paused. “Why do you continue to resist? I know you want me. Even now, I can smell your arousal. Why are you still afraid?”

  “I’m not afraid. It has never been fear that holds me back.”

  “Then what? Why do you still refuse me?”

  “Our son.” Revealing this much might be foolish, but it was the only tactic available to her. “I don’t want to be separated from our son.”

  “Son?” Now he sounded tense and disbelieving. His knee was mere inches from her side and yet he made no move to touch her. “Why are you so certain you’ll bear me a son?”

  “I’ve seen him in my dreams, just as I saw you. If we continue down this path, I will bear you a son, not the daughter you want.”

  His expression hardened and his lips thinned. “You’re just saying that to dissuade me.”

  “Open your mind and I’ll show you his face.”

  “Bilarrian mind tricks.” He sneered and moved his knee off the bed. “Only a fool would allow such a thing.”

  Emboldened by his subtle retreat, she provoked him further. “If I’m the one paralyzed by fear, why do you keep tying me up?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her gaze to the sculpted perfection of is torso. Was he really this well-toned or was his appearance the result of ego. This was his dream after all.

  “Why would you hurt me if I want you as much as you claim?”

  He chuckled and strolled toward the foot of the bed. “If you wanted to wrestle, my love, all you had to do was ask.”

  My love? Why would he use such an intimate endearment in his dream when he remained emotionally distant in reality? He unfastened the ankle restraints, so she held her tongue, not willing to risk provoking him again until she was unbound.

  He released her wrist restraints as well then stood back and watched her. She sat and rubbed her wrists, making no attempt to hide her naked body. She wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject of his son. If she didn’t stay within the context of the dream, it would likely jar his subconscious and he would awaken.

  In the stilted manner of dreams, he was suddenly on the bed in front of her. He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms and drew her to her knees. He knelt as well, so she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes.

  “Don’t fight me, please.”

  His soft, nearly pleading, tone shocked her. He never allowed himself to appear vulnerable. “I must.” She sucked in a ragged breath, her heart pounding wildly. This was her opening, the only opportunity she’d get. If he kissed her, she’d be lost. “You want to steal my child from me. How can you, of all people, do that?”

  He tensed, his fingers digging into her arms. “Me ‘of all people’? What do you mean by that?”

  There was no turning back now. There was no way he’d tell her while awake. Would he be any more candid while dreaming? “You know the heartbreak of losing a child. How can you inflict such pain on another?”

  His chest heaved and his phitons glowed. She was half afraid he’d lash out physically. He was clearly infuriated. “It is not the same thing.” But guilt bled through his other emotions. She didn’t need to scan him to recognize what he was feeling. “It’s because of Arton that I’m doing this.”

  That was odd. She met his gaze directly, struggling to remain calm. “How does seducing me help you rescue Arton?”

  “How do you know about that?” He yanked her against him, making it hard for her to see his face. “You shouldn’t know.”

  “I’m a figment of your imagination. I know what you want me to know.” She whispered the explanation against his chest, her breath warming his skin.

  “I can’t fight them.” His voice was harsh, almost strangled. “They see every move I make before I make it. I have no weapons to use against their powers.”

  Understanding unfurled inside her. She’d been born with similar gifts. Kryton was planning to use her to ta
ke on Harbinger Guild. Uncertainty sped her pulse and respiration, drawing her attention to her naked breasts. Her nipples rubbed against his chest with each anxious breath, creating an entirely different sort of tension.

  “I’m just one woman.” She eased back, breaking contact with his chest and allowing her to see his face. “I’m not sure I can help you.”

  “Not while you fight me at every turn.” His hand slipped into her hair and formed a loose fist. “Agree to help me rescue my son and I’ll set you free.”

  She searched his eyes, confused and angered by the offer. If her visions were correct, she would bear his child. So either the offer was false or it would take a very long time to accomplish the rescue. “Will you still release me if the attempt fails?”

  His fingers slowly tightened in her hair as his expression turned savage. “Three attempts and then I’ll free you regardless of the outcome.”

  “And until then?” Her heart began to pound again. “Am I still your prisoner?”

  He lowered his head, lips barely touching hers. “I’m not honestly sure who has captured whom.” Then he tilted her head and sealed his mouth over hers.

  She held perfectly still as his lips caressed hers. This was his dream. It wouldn’t seem odd if she surrendered. And she wanted to surrender, had wanted to join with him even before he kidnapped her. She’d suspected there was more to Kryton than his harsh exterior and now she knew why. He wasn’t trying to breed his way back to magic. He was a father desperately fighting to free his son.

  They’d first met in her visions. So it felt natural to touch him, to meld with him while enveloped in the surreal haze of dreams. She parted her lips, allowing the tip of his tongue to venture deeper.

  He turned and laid her back across the mattress. She parted her legs, making room for him between her thighs. His throaty groan urged her on as his kiss grew more demanding. The hand grasping her hair shifted to her shoulder, positioning his forearm beneath her neck. His other hand wandered across her breasts, staking his claim with touches every bit as bold as his dizzying kiss.