RESURRECTION (RIBUS 7, #5)

by Shae Mills

  Chelan nodded. “I understand. I really do. I just wish things were different. I just wish he would take one more chance, one more risk, and let us in.”

  Korba finally smiled. “Maybe he will one day. And how is his arm coming along?”

  Chelan looked up at him. “That is the other thing. I have not seen it in weeks. Stose showed me what needed to be done in the beginning, and after that I saw Dar daily for maybe two weeks at most. All the visits were short, semiprofessional meetings, and the arm was doing very well during that time. But then at one point a switch seemed to flip in him. One day he just refused to let me tend to him, no explanation given. Consequently, he has been back to seeing Stose. I have seen him only in his shroud since then, and then not at all over the past week. He is once again behaving like an elusive phantom, hell-bent on infuriating everyone trying to maintain some assemblage of a connection with him.”

  Korba released her, his body suddenly going rigid. “So when was the last time you actually saw his arm?”

  “About a month ago.”

  “I am wondering if there is a problem...”

  “He says not. I do not think he would hold anything back from me pertaining to it. At least I hope that is the case.”

  “I don’t know what to do or say, Chelan. I am as stymied as you. He engages with me only if I seek him out, and then he disappears as quickly as he is able. Our conversations are polite, but nothing of any substance is ever discussed.”

  She frowned. “Well, I suppose I should let it be.” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “On a more personal note, in the past, you always said that you took solace in the fact that I had Dar or Fremma to go to. You said that while you were gone for long periods, it was important that I had them to ease my loneliness; that you did not want me to pine away for you in isolation. Now, with you in the Palace most of the time, and since I travel with you on missions, you know that is no longer a factor, right? So essentially, this is all a moot point.”

  Korba’s fingers traced over her face. “I do know that. We have discussed it before. But as things stand now, there are other reasons I feel that what you had with Dar should be rekindled in whatever manner you find acceptable. Dar captured your heart in strange, unique ways long ago. Your love for him was always meant to be, regardless of my presence. That is still the case. I know you cannot simply release him, nor would I want you to.”

  “I may not be able to release him. But it seems we are destined simply to be friends. And that will work out fine in the end. He periodically affords me his presence while visiting Jason, and the three of us together just feels so right, so natural. As for the rest of it, all the guilt he harbors, I no longer have the energy to deal with that. I have offered all to him in understanding, but he only walls himself off. And oddly enough, I am beginning to be okay with that too, even if at times it frustrates me.”

  Korba smiled. “Well, at some point we will continue with this topic, but I have to meet Zane for a few moments. I know that Dar should be back from his daily checkup with Stose. If you are available, why don’t you go see him? Force him to show you his arm so at least we both know that it is okay. And who knows—someday he may shed some light on his complicated mindset. At least we can hope.”

  Chelan nodded and watched Korba go. He was right. Leaving Dar alone was going to accomplish nothing. If she at least availed herself of him, maybe then the emotional dam would bust at some point.

  She padded out after Korba and began her journey to Dar’s suite. The doors were no longer closed to her, and she simply stepped in unannounced. She looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen. She walked over to the large bed and sat down heavily. She closed her eyes, his rich scent rising to envelop her. Her thoughts began to wander.

  Just then, the doors opened and Dar strode in. He stopped abruptly, surprised to see the alabaster beauty seated on his bed.

  She looked up at him almost dreamily. “You spent a long time with Stose today.”

  He smiled. “Actually, I skipped my appointment with Stose.”

  She watched as he stepped up to the table and pulled a scabbard and blade out from under his shroud. He laid them down.

  Chelan’s eyes widened. Then she noticed his hair. It hung limp, his face coated with perspiration. She stood in alarm. “Where have you been?”

  “In training.”

  Chelan teetered, fear for him gripping her. She knew well that only one arm was needed to wield a sword, but two certainly helped, especially for balance. And she knew Iceanean warriors engaged in the competition of sparring, held nothing back.

  He turned from her. “I will return in a moment. I need a shower.”

  She watched in dismay as he left the room without another word and entered the en suite. Had he been doing this ever since he refused to let her tend to him any longer? Had he been deliberately keeping her in the dark about something? Had he been deceiving her by omission?

  Chelan took a moment to collect her thoughts and then hustled over to the en suite. She stepped through the door, her fists clenched for battle. But instead of confrontation, she froze. She watched the water cascade down his bronze back, droplets disappearing between his slim, hard buttocks. His thighs were pillars, well sculpted, dense muscle. But what caught her eye now was his hair as he washed it, two hands running through it—two hands, one each at the end of two perfectly formed, perfectly proportioned arms.

  Her throat dried at the same instant her body warmed. Then he turned around, his hands leaving his hair and sliding down over his steel-plated chest and rippling abdomen. He was an icon of superb masculine genetics. Perfect symmetry achieved. Finally, his azure eyes opened to hers.

  Her gaze coursed over him unabashedly several more times. Then her surprise dissipated, replaced by anger. She marched up to him, halting at the shower’s threshold, his seven-foot frame towering over her. “How long have you been whole?” she demanded.

  He looked down at her. “Since just after I quit allowing you to work on me. That week Stose began using a new growth hormone, one formulated for me by the Cleosans. It could not be used in the beginning when the cell division was new and potential cell designations were a little unstable. The hormone added too early could cause the cell differentiation to go awry; the potential for cancer was too great. But later, once everything was settled, the hormone was administered and things advanced rapidly, most of the transformation happening in a few days.”

  “Your arm has been back to normal for about a month,” she repeated flatly. “And you did not care to tell me?”

  Dar tipped his head back into the water a moment, the spray dashing over his handsome face. Then his luminescent eyes came back to haunt hers. “The lengthening process accelerated more rapidly than any of us anticipated. Maybe it was the intense workouts I added to my regime. I do not know, but it was of no consequence.”

  “That is crap!” she shouted. “Do you not think I would have wanted to know, to be happy for you?”

  Dar stepped past her, the water rippling in sheets as it shed from his body. “I knew you would be happy, Chelan. But the state of my arm changes nothing.”

  Chelan’s world spun. “What? What has not changed? What are you talking about?”

  He yanked on his pants and then stepped into his boots. “Us.”

  “What about us?”

  “I have most of my strength and ability back. As soon as I can prove that on the practice fields, I will apply to Korba for my own ship, and then I will be gone.”

  Chelan literally staggered. “But... you will return to Iceanea at times?”

  Dar put a hand on his hip and looked down. He rubbed his brow with the other and sighed. Then he looked to the ashen beauty. “Chelan... Pretty lady. It can never be. I have searched my heart, and even after all these years of reflection, I still cannot share you.”

  She launched herself at him, eyes wild and emotions clouded. “Damn you!” she yelled.

  Dar caught her by the wrists and
struggled with her.

  Chelan wrenched against him. “All this time I thought you were only worried about your arm, worried that I would shun you because of it! But now it is normal and still you choose to bury everything we once had as if it never happened!” she shouted.

  She kicked at him, but he subdued her. Turning her back to him, he pinned her to his body, his massive arms surrounding her torso. “That was a factor, Chelan, and that has been resolved. But there is another factor of far greater importance, and he will always be there.”

  Chelan struggled for a brief moment more. Then she went limp. All she had just spoken to Korba about accepting the situation left in a whoosh. “Damn you to hell, my Lord, because that is where you have just cast me with your stubborn determination to remain a recluse.”

  Dar hugged her close. “Oh, pretty lady, please let me go.”

  Chelan found renewed strength and tore herself from his arms. She swiped at her hair, clearing it from her face. Then she glared at him through savage eyes. “You said you loved me—you have always said that—but now I know you twisted the truth. Your heart is as hard as the ice-rock from which you harken! If for nothing else, for the sake of our son you should find it in your soul to share me with his Lordship, the only father he has ever known!”

  “Bringing Jason into this is not fair!” Dar boomed, pointing at her. “You speak of love. Then as on Earth, if you love me so hard, leave Korba, and let us be a true family!”

  “We have been through this before, long ago, well before Jason came into the mix. Are you telling me that centuries of your societal morals have simply washed out, never to be reintroduced? How many woman have you seduced out of duty and desire, Dar? How many orgies have you devoted yourself to? Then I come along, and you throw it all away as you did on Earth. But things have changed, through no fault of either of us. You were dead to us all, and I am back with Korba, and we have your son. So now it is time to readjust and learn to accept what Korba and I have.”

  “I did throw away my culture’s mores away for you! I adopted your world’s ways, as did Korba. But if you want me back, back as we once were, then you need to stick with your culture’s ways too. I will not be second best in anything!”

  “Right now you are just behaving bloody selfishly!”

  “So are you! You want both of us. But we can have only you. Is that fair?”

  “That became your choice long before Earth. I never demanded that of you outright!” she yelled.

  He strode up to her, jerking her up straight. “No? Then come to me, pretty lady. I will choose another woman, and we three will make love.”

  “You bastard...,” she hissed.

  He grabbed her again. “You see? It is not completely my choice. You would not allow it.”

  “Then ignore Jason! Go find your Iceanean women. See if they fulfill you like I once did. See if they make love to you the way I once did.” And she wrenched away from him and stepped back. “I have had it. I have been through hell and back for you more times than I can count. You shall indeed have it your way. We may be forced to be in one another’s company off and on in the future, but you will never touch me again!” she shouted.

  She turned and ran through the en suite door and into the bedroom only to slam headlong into Korba just as he entered Dar’s quarters. The ebony-haired Warlord caught her, his eyes ablaze.

  Dar rushed out after her and skidded to a halt. “Sire,” he gasped.

  Korba held onto the distraught woman as his eyes raked over Dar. “I see that you are well?”

  Dar straightened himself. “Yes, my Lord.”

  Korba looked down at Chelan. Her gaze had hardened, and her previously quaking body was now frighteningly still. Korba’s eyes skated back to Dar. “And I see you are fit enough to dispose of her once and for all?”

  Dar’s hands balled into fists, his anger renewed. “That is not fair,” he seethed. He glared at the Emperor. “And you would not understand. You are the one who has her.”

  Korba’s deep voice shattered the air as he shouted. “I have her because I love her and because I allow her to love! I have her because I am not fool enough to let her walk away. And I would certainly never, ever push her away!”

  “Then we both love her, just differently!”

  Korba signed in battle language to the security entourage standing at the entrance to Dar’s quarters, and they all stepped back out, allowing the doors to shut.

  Chelan felt caged, trapped between two male animals, and her mind went blank. She closed her eyes and attempted to shut out the conversation. She had had enough. She needed peace and tranquility. She needed to retreat, to disconnect, but she was powerless to do either. All she could do was stay nestled into Korba’s chest as the Warlords squared off, and hope like hell the two men did not engage in battle.

  Her mind disengaged from all that was being said, and she inhaled Korba’s scent, his masculine musk sending her disarrayed thoughts into utter confusion. She wanted him here; she wanted him now. She wanted to immerse herself in him to the exclusion of all else, his physical love transporting her away from all that was causing her pain. And then the realization hit her: She wanted to strike back at Dar and hurt him any way she could.

  Dar began to pace, Korba’s eyes tracking his adversary. “You are a fool, Dar. Only a fool gives up something so that he can have nothing!”

  Chelan reached up to Korba’s face, her fingers tracing his jaw. “Shhh,” she cooed.

  Korba was startled from his rage by her touch, and he looked down into her languid eyes.

  “Shhh,” she repeated. “Forget him.” Then she stretched up and took his lips firmly, her tongue probing and exploring.

  Korba was staggered. His fury was suddenly redirected, the veins of red-hot rage sidewinding into unrestrained desire, the abrupt change catching him completely off guard.

  Dar stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening with astonishment.

  Chelan’s fingers reached for Korba’s jacket and ripped it open. “Take me here, now. I want you inside me, hard, and I want you deep.”

  Korba went to utter a weak protest, but her lips silenced him. Almost involuntarily, his hands rubbed down her slender back and up, coming to rest at the sides of her breasts.

  Dar seethed. Suddenly, his self-control snapped. He reached out and grabbed her arm, wrenching her from Korba’s now sensual embrace.

  “How dare you flaunt this in front of me,” he growled.

  Chelan slapped him hard, sending his silver-blonde hair flying. “How dare you try to take me from my mate and my lover. You have cast me away even though your best friend has welcomed you back into the fold in every manner, including being with me. But obviously it is for the best.”

  Dar wrenched her up to him. “What are you talking about?” he demanded through clenched teeth.

  Chelan’s hand ran down the length of his chest and over his abdominals, coming to rest just above his maleness. “I mean, my Lord, Korba knows how to treat the mother of your child better than you do. I mean that since he can share all without feeling threatened by another, he is more a man to me than you have ever been.” And she reached down.

  Dar’s body exploded to her touch. He had always been unpredictable, but the rage released in him by her challenge pushed him completely off-balance. “You think so?” he grated out. He jerked her to him roughly, his mouth hard upon hers.

  Korba shook himself back to reality. He stood in stunned silence as Dar’s lips consumed hers. Then he watched as she began to struggle against the massive Warlord, her actions inflaming Dar further.

  Every muscle in Korba’s body went rigid, not sure if his mate was in trouble or if she was settling a score. Either way, he was poised to protect her at all costs. He crouched, one hand ready to draw a knife.

  Finally, with one arm locked about her, Dar grabbed the front of her gown, yanking it down to her waist. Her exposure caused him to hesitate: the beauty before him was bared, ready to be ravished. For a mome
nt nothing else in the galaxy existed, not even the supreme Warlord next to him, set to strike.

  Chelan gasped and arched backward, struggling to put distance between herself and Dar, no longer sure of her motives for anything. Did she want to get away, did she want to hurt him, or did she want to drive him to a fevered pitch so potent nothing could dissuade him from taking her?

  At the same instant Korba’s heart stopped. One half of him wanted to rip Dar to shreds; the other half was mesmerized by what was happening before him.

  Dar groaned and then hunched over her, seizing her nipple with his teeth.

  Korba’s blood heated to a violent boil while at the same instant he hardened. Could he watch this, witness another man take his woman, even if the man was Dar? He was hardwired to put a stop to it, Chelan’s struggle against Dar setting off protective instincts so powerful that he was enraged. Yet he found he was paralyzed, the adrenalin surging through him spawned as much by sexual heat as it was by the need to fight for her. Then he straightened, leaving the knife nestled in its sheath.

  Dar was crippled emotionally. All he wanted to do was to enter her, deep and hard. But the warrior within was well aware that the mightiest Warlord of all loomed over him and was more than capable of killing him in this moment of vulnerability. But in truth, Dar did not care. All sense of self-preservation, evanescent. He simply could not stop. Her struggles inflamed him to dangerous levels. And only if the woman in his clutches cried out would he back away from satisfying his most basal of needs.

  Chelan panted for air. Her head spun and her vision blurred. Dar’s mouth upon her breast sent a heat through her she couldn’t even begin to handle. She knew all she had to do to stop him was utter the word “no,” but that word was frozen in her throat. Dar had her clutched to his body with a force that bordered on madness, and for a moment, a spear of passion lanced into her so deep that she felt deranged. But through her delirium, a flicker of clarity told her that things could go drastically wrong, and fear hit her with a punch that left her winded. Where was Korba? She would not do anything to hurt him; neither could she stand to get Dar killed.