by Mary Calmes
“I don’t fret!” I was indignant. “I just want you to be safe and—”
“I will be perfectly fine meeting a semel and the djehus. If I have too many men with me, it will seem like I’m there to impose your will instead of talk. Take my counsel on this.”
That was the second time he’d used that word. “What’s a djehu? I mean, I get that it’s some kind of leader, but the word’s new to me.”
“A djehu is like an aker, except it’s elected. Apparently, this is how the tribe of Feran is. Hakkan Tarek allowed djehus to be picked by the people instead of them just going to the sylvan.”
“Why?”
“Because they are two very diverse groups who live apart, don’t ever mix, and have basically nothing in common.”
“Except that they’re all panthers.”
“Except that.”
“You know you don’t have to explain it to me like that. I’m not a child.”
“No. You’re not,” he said, his voice sultry and full of heat.
I swallowed hard.
“So, I’m going to meet with the semel, get Garai home, and then speak to the djehus and bring you back all their concerns, whatever they are.”
“Fine,” I growled, prickly with frustration.
“Good.” He soothed me. “Did you want to kiss me or—”
“Just go.” I was terse.
Instead of listening, he took my face in his big hands, hauled me close, and kissed me hard and deep and possessive. When he tipped my head back, my mouth opened, and he swept his tongue inside and mated it with mine.
I grabbed hold of the heavy jacket, my hands curling around the lapels as I whimpered in the back of my throat. I needed more, wanted more, and I resented everything, all of it, because being semel-aten meant I could not claim my mate whenever I wanted.
The rules, the protocols, the granted audiences and the myriad of people I saw in the course of a day kept me continually from his side. And then when I did see him, it often erupted because I was angry and he was the only one I could vent my frustrations to—or on—and became me attacking him, yelling, picking fights….
I wanted everything to be right between us before he left. I put all of it, everything I was thinking and feeling, into the kiss. He had to know how much I loved him. I needed it engrained in him, simply recognized and understood.
I sucked his tongue inside my mouth, then slid mine over his, stroking, slipping it back and forth, drawing the kiss out, feeling the shiver run through him. I moaned loudly when his hands gripped my ass tight.
“Domin,” he whispered. I kissed him until he had to tear his lips from mine to breathe. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Just trying to make an impression,” I said, lifting my mouth for the next one, tightening my arms around his neck to bring him back down to me.
“I’ll never get out of here,” he pretended to complain as he fused his lips to mine.
Seconds later when he shoved me away, I was surprised. “What?” I was panting.
“I have to go.”
“Yuri—”
“Love.” The tone, the lull in it, the adoration, brought me out of my pheromone-fueled haze.
“I have to go,” he repeated.
“Take your phone.”
“It’s in my pocket.”
“Okay.”
“You’re adorable.”
Faced with the dancing clear-blue eyes of my mate, I couldn’t even growl at him. I forced a smile instead to hide my worry, my fear, my aching heart, and most of all, my devouring need to keep him with me. “How long?” I posed the question as nonchalantly as possible.
“Two weeks, I would think.”
“How far away is Ipis?”
“It’s a ten-hour drive,” he said, taking my chin in his hand to lightly brush his lips over mine. “I’ll be home before you know it. I love you.”
I dismissed him with a flick of my wrist. The evil glint in his eyes said I wasn’t fooling him in the least.
Watching him walk away was almost physically painful. What the hell was I supposed to do without my mate for two weeks?
Chapter 2
YURI had called me once from the road and apologized for accidentally taking the wrong phone with him. He’d taken his regular one and not the satellite, so the reception would be spotty at best. I had not been amused.
“You did it on purpose,” I groused.
“I really didn’t,” he said, chuckling. “But please don’t worry. I’m under your protection. Who would dare touch me?”
It was not comforting. I had not been able to talk to him since. I wasn’t really worried—more annoyed with him for not being more careful—but I didn’t even have time to do that properly because of everything swirling around me. I was lucky a new semel wasn’t expected to host the Feast of the Valley until the second year of his reign. I would have been royally screwed since it would have been a mere three weeks away. How it was July already, I had no idea.
“Elham,” Ebere said, standing when I walked into the room. I still didn’t know what she was doing in Sobek. Maybe it was time to pin her down.
“What?” I said curtly, feeling like I had just walked into a conversation already in progress.
“We still haven’t talked about him.”
“First off, what the hell are you doing in Sobek? Cairo too boring for you all of a sudden?”
“I was getting to that.” She was annoyed but trying not to let me hear it in her voice. “And no, I love Cairo. I came to talk to you about Elham. I––”
“What’d you do with your kids? Ditch them somewhere?”
She glared at me. “My children are safe with my mother and their aunt, my lord. Thank you for your concern.”
I grunted. “So now you want to talk? You haven’t wanted to fill me in about anything since you got here.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“And now, after days of silence, you want the topic of conversation to be your dead husband’s brother?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Why would I want to discuss anything about him?”
“Because we must.”
I groaned. “Why?”
We were friends after six months, so alone, behind closed doors, I could treat her however I liked. She was the mate of the last semel, his yareah, and I had saved her from losing any status at all after I killed him in the pit. Taking her as my mastaba, or mistress of my home, put her and her children under my protection. If I never had any offspring of my own, hers would be my heirs. And even though she had two girls and neither of them could ever be semel-aten, whoever was named next would then protect them as my progeny. It was all very tidy, and I liked it. So did she. But now there was a problem, one that she was apparently ready to talk about.
“Because Elham was Ammon’s brother,” she said. “If he fights Crane in the pit and wins, when he becomes maahes he can ask you for me, and by rights, you cannot refuse him, as his lineage gives him prior claim.”
“This is boring old news that I know already,” I retorted.
“You’re not taking this seriously,” she volleyed back. “Where is your sylvan? He needs to give you his counsel.”
“I don’t need my—”
“Elham is going to become your maahes and take me from you if he beats Crane Adams in the pit.”
“Crane can beat him.” I dismissed her concerns as I walked over to the enormous monstrosity of a desk that came with the whole semel-aten gig. It was all hand-carved out of some extinct wood that surely had been prettier shading a stream somewhere.
“It’s not just a simple test of strength in the pit, you know.”
My eyes flicked to hers.
“You see,” she said as she threw up her hands. “You have no idea what—”
A knock on the door stopped her.
I growled and then yelled for whomever to enter.
The door opened and Kabore Nour walked into the room. He was my steward, in cha
rge of the villa and of my private staff. I got the feeling he didn’t approve of me, though it definitely had nothing to do with me being gay. He liked Yuri quite a bit, but then everyone did.
“Yes?” I was irritable.
“You have a visitor, my lord. Korneiley Church from Nevada. He requested an audience at once.”
The cherry on the cake of my week. Koren.
“Show him in.”
There had been a time when my heart would have flipped over at the news that Koren Church was anywhere near me. I had been wildly, madly, desperately in love with him, and our on-again, off-again relationship had only added fuel to the fire. I had wanted him but couldn’t have him, he had wanted me but our timing was bad, and round and round it had gone. We were both stupid, both self-centered, and both of us had wanted the other to cave. The last time he walked away, though, had almost killed me. My heart had been too mangled and the jealousy eating away at it just not worth it. You couldn’t always wonder if the person you loved, loved you back. There was a time to simply know and be content in that knowledge.
I stood when he walked in.
He stopped by the door. The man was still very easy on the eyes. The short, thick blond hair, deep olive-green eyes, laugh lines, long and straight Roman nose, full lips, the gold of his skin, the grace of his movements… there was no missing his beauty.
I opened my mouth to greet him as Samani Baro, hathen of my house, slipped past him into the room.
“I must speak to you,” she said quickly.
In that instant, I saw his eyes glide over the stunning woman—and he liked what he saw.
Sometimes life gave you reminders without anyone else having to know. Stupidly, for a second, my heart had opened because it was so good to see him. But any words now were empty, as I had seen his interest in another. It was as simple as that. When I was in the room, Yuri saw no one else. I had gotten used to it, to being the most important thing. I would not give that up for anything.
“I was—” Koren began.
“Wait.” I stopped him, rounding on Samani, who had not been distracted at all by the beautiful man in our midst, her focus all on me.
“Yes?”
“The contingent from the tribe of Aswanet has barred me from checking on the concubines in their quarters. Your khatyu must break down the door to gain entrance, and nothing may be destroyed inside your home without your permission.”
Why was I being bothered with such mundane crap? Didn’t she know I didn’t care?
She made a face. “I know you don’t like to deal with this kind of thing, but your sekhem, who is normally here to handle these requests, is absent. Because of that, I must come to you.”
“What does he usually say?”
“He says to do what I think is best.”
“That sounds like good advice. Do that.”
“And I have your permission to act in your stead?” She was making sure.
“You do.”
She made to leave.
“Wait.”
Her eyes came back on me.
“Make sure you let me know if the girls are hurt.”
“Of course.” She gave me a quick bow, spared a nod to Ebere, and then left.
Koren watched her go.
“I always liked her.” Ebere said brightly. “She always handled Ammon so well. He used to come to my chambers fuming because she’d outmaneuvered him again and again.”
“Your mate complained that he had missed bedding another?”
She tilted her head, and there was just a hint of a smile.
“It’s a wonder you didn’t kill him yourself.”
Her gaze met mine.
“I’m glad you didn’t hate me.”
“Nothing to hate.” She was adamant.
I cleared my throat. “I enjoy having Samani here.”
“You were smart to elevate her to hathen.”
“Someone needed to do it, and you certainly wanted nothing to do with the harem.”
She scoffed. “No, I didn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
We were both finally focused on Koren.
“You have a harem?”
I waggled my eyebrows.
“All semel-atens have harems,” Ebere educated Koren, the censure in her voice evident. “Everyone knows that.”
I came clean. “I didn’t.”
“No?”
My quick laugh made her eyelids flutter before she glanced over at Koren.
“Who are you, may I ask?”
He moved forward, hand extended. “Koren Church.”
She took the offered hand. “Oh, yes, I see the resemblance to the semel-netjer now. Pleasure to meet you.”
“You know Logan?”
“I’ve had the pleasure, yes,” she sighed, “and of meeting his mate, as well. Your tribe is blessed to have them both.”
“We think so.”
“When is Yuri due home?” Her focus was back on me.
“In a couple of days.”
“Where did he go?”
“Again,” I said on a huffed exhale, “he went to speak to a semel for me.”
“Yes, but where did he go specifically? I didn’t ask and you didn’t say.”
“You could have questioned Kabore.”
“It’s unseemly for me to make that inquiry of your steward when I should ask you.”
I grunted. “He went to Ipis to meet with the semel and the djehus.”
“Whatever for?”
“The semel of the tribe of Tegeret—”
“Ehivet Milar, yes?”
“He’s missing his son.”
Her eyes narrowed. “If Ehivet is missing his son, why on earth would Yuri be involved? And why would he go to Ipis? He needed to go to Minya, where the—”
“Ehivet sent his son to Ipis.”
“I’m missing something.”
“He and the semel of the tribe of Feran have a covenant bond for their children.”
“Oh, I see.”
“And he’s also speaking to two of Tarek’s djehus. There’s a land dispute or something. The catacombs figure into it.”
Her breath caught excitedly, which surprised me. “And is he going to see the catacombs while he’s there?”
“I would think so, yes. Why?”
“Oh, I always wanted to go to see the great cavern, but Ammon would never take me.”
“Why?” I was instantly on edge. “Is it dangerous?”
“No, quite the opposite. I understand the catacombs are gorgeous and quite safe.”
“So why, then?”
“Ammon said that until the petty feuding was forcibly ended that he would not dignify the semel with his presence or mine. He felt that—oh, and now I can’t think of his name—”
“Hakkan Tarek.”
“Yes, Tarek.” She seemed relieved. “He felt that as a semel he should simply discipline his tribe and take matters into his own hands.”
“I hate to agree with a power-mad tyrant, but, yeah. Hakkan Tarek needs to send his sheseru and khatyu to the homes of each djehu, bring them to his house, and everybody stays there until it’s fixed or he just executes them and starts over.”
“Domin!”
“What? It’s true,” I insisted.
“You have to understand the problems, not negotiate at knifepoint.”
“I think you’re missing the point. There would be no negotiating.”
“There are two distinct groups,” she pointed out. “They have to learn to coexist.”
“They’re all panthers; they need to get over it.”
“You realize that you’re not just talking about Ipis, yes? This scenario can be used on the whole world. Why can’t people just get along? They’re all human.”
I shook my head. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Of course it is.”
“Panthers must adhere to the law. We are all bound to our semels and our tribes. The semel made a mistake allowing these two factions to coex
ist within his tribe. He compounded his error by allowing them to elect their own people to take their complaints to.”
“Yes, but now they all have to learn to get along within what they’ve constructed.”
“That’s crap. If Yuri comes back and tells me that these two djehus are unreasonable, I will take men back there, sit everyone down, and talk it out. If that doesn’t work either––then I will discipline.”
She was glaring at me.
“What?”
“These things are not so simple,” she tried to impress upon me.
“Sometimes they are,” I said, and then something occurred to me. “So Ammon was aware of these problems as well.”
“Yes.”
“So it’s been going on a long time.”
“The struggles with these two groups are ongoing. Everyone knows that the tribe itself has a conflict going on within it, a civil disturbance. But the semel never reached out to Ammon.”
“He didn’t reach out now; it’s Ehivet Milar, who is being kept from his son, who has reached out to me. If Hakkan Tarek didn’t want someone in his business, he should have sent the boy back to his father.”
“Perhaps there is a reason for his silence.”
“Well, Yuri will find out or has already. He’ll have a full report for me as soon as he gets home.”
She appeared sad.
“Why are you making that face?”
“Oh, nothing, I just—I wish I’d known that Yuri was going out there. I would have loved to tag along and see the catacombs.”
“You can go once we know what’s going on.” I snickered. “I’ll send a delegation with you to keep you safe.”
“Maybe next time I visit,” she said, her eyes warm as she studied me. “So how many men would you send with me? The same as you sent with Yuri?”
She was being funny, but the question made me realize I had no idea how to answer her question.
“Domin?”
Why didn’t I know that?
“How many men did you send with Yuri?”
I had no idea. “I’m not sure, besides Constantine. He was the only Yuri mentioned.”
“So it’s possible that your mate left simply with one of your khatyu.”
“He’s the captain of the house guard.”