Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2

by Danes, Willow

  In the next instant Hope was in his arms and he was carrying her away from the dead man with his long strides, past the prayer gate to the cool quiet of the tree-lined road.

  R’har was here, cradling her, and she was safe in his arms, the warm cinnamon scent of him bringing back a thousand tender memories, and for a moment he was all that mattered.

  “You should not be here alone!” R’har growled. “It is the height of foolishness that you would be.”

  Hope blinked, her warm fuzzies evaporating at his scold. “Wait—Are you saying this is my fault?”

  His jaw tightened. “Did Si’hala give you no guards? No escort? Is this how they safeguard my lifemate?”

  “I’m not—And I didn’t want guards! In fact I came here just to be alone for one damn minute,” she snapped, stiffening in his embrace. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  His mouth settled into a tight line, his gaze straight ahead on the road before him. “You are still my responsibility.”

  “Like hell I am! We’re not—whatever we were—anymore. And I know they told you I didn’t want to see you again!”

  “I have kept out of your sight until now,” he rumbled, his fangs showing a bit again. “I have not imposed my presence on you.”

  “Not imposed—?” Hope felt her nostrils flare and started to struggle in his arms. “Goddamn it, R’har! Put me down! I mean it! Put me down now!”

  He hesitated for a moment then gently complied.

  “You’ve been watching me, following me whenever I leave the clanhouse, haven’t you?” she demanded as soon as she gained her feet.

  “Of course.”

  She stared. “You know, on Earth stalking a woman is creepy. And illegal.” She folded her arms. “And creepy.”

  His brow creased a little. “You said ‘creepy’ twice.”

  “I didn’t want you to miss it,” she snapped, pushing past him and heading down the road toward the clanhall.

  “I would not have let him hurt you, little one. I would have died first.”

  Hope stopped. “I know. And I’m—grateful you were there. You saved my life. Again.”

  “Tomorrow is the last day of the moon cycle,” he said hoarsely and the pain in his voice made her wince. “My claim to you ends with the dawn.”

  Hope swallowed hard. “I know that too. But when I’m gone you can go home, back to the clanhall, where you belong.”

  She heard him draw closer, could feel the warmth of him at her back.

  “I do not care about the clanhall, little one,” he said roughly. “Nothing matters but you, and tomorrow . . . I will no longer have any claim to you. The Yir clan will no longer be yours. And you will leave my world, my life, forever.” He touched her hair and she closed her eyes at the sweetness of it, this lightest of stokes. “My sweet Hope . . .”

  “You shouldn’t have—” Tears stung her eyes. “If you just hadn’t lied to me . . .”

  “I would have revealed the truth to you in time.”

  “When you felt like it,” she said bitterly.

  “When I had won your heart.”

  “I couldn’t—” She shut her eyes. “I’m so stupid. I am just so fucking stupid. After what Brian did, I promised myself I’d never fall for—And you could have told me at any time, but you didn’t. You kept that deception up for days, until I loved you so much I couldn’t see straight. And it was all a lie.”

  “I never meant to hurt you. My regret knows no bounds. I regretted it then but . . .”

  At that she turned to spear him with a look. “But what? It was just so much fun you couldn’t help yourself?”

  His glowing eyes widened. “You think my deception an act of contempt?”

  “I think lying to me doesn’t show me a whole lot of respect, no.”

  R’har regarded her silently for a moment.

  “The All Mother is right to take you from me,” he said finally. “What I did—that the Goddess gifted you to me and I coveted you so that I resorted to lies to keep you with me—reveals a terrible flaw in my soul that shames me.” His face was grave. “Her only mercy now is that you will not recall my deception . . . or me.”

  Hope gave a snort of disbelief. “A nearly seven-foot-tall alien I had sex with is not someone I’m likely to forget, R’har.”

  “Yes, little one,” he growled and sorrow settled over him. “You will.”

  “Wait a second, you really mean that.” Her brow creased. “There’s more, isn’t there? Goddamn it, what aren’t you telling me? Why won’t I remember you?”

  “Have they not told you?” he asked heavily. “They will wipe your memory before they return you home. Erase all trace of the g’hir people. Of this world.” He touched her cheek lightly. “Of me.”

  “What? What the fuck are—” Hope’s chest was so tight it was a moment before she could force air into her lungs. “Your people have the technology to do that? They’re going to make me forget everything that’s happened?”

  “From the moment you entered the woods that day. For you, everything from that instant on . . . will never have been.” His gaze was dull. “You will return to your world with no memory of this one.”

  Hope’s eyes widened in horror. “But—why? Why would they do that to me?”

  “It will be this way with every human female who chooses to return home.” He dropped his hand. “We cannot have the knowledge of our kind, of our plan for survival, known to the humans, to anyone.”

  Hope wrapped her arms around herself. “No, there has to be—What if I promised not to say anything? Never tell anyone?”

  “I wish—” he began hoarsely then shook his head. “They will not allow it.”

  “Everything?” she asked, her voice sounding very tiny to her own ears.

  R’har searched her face, as if committing every curve and shadow to memory.

  And right now she could look all she wanted to at his bright, sad eyes, at his full mouth and ridged brow, but tomorrow all of it, all of it—the smiles and laughter and the first kiss and how his eyes looked as they made love under the dozens of moons in an alien sky, the tenderness of his hand in hers as he soothed her fears in the medical bay—would be torn from her.

  “But they can’t!” she cried. “They can’t just take everything away from me!”

  “I have broken clan directive in allowing you to see me and I know myself unworthy of you. I should not add to my offenses but I beg you, little one—” He took a step closer. “Please, allow me this . . .”

  In the next moment R’har cupped her face in his hands, his nose brushing hers, then his lips were on her own, the slow bittersweetness of this last kiss making her eyes sting.

  The sound of riders made her glance that way and she saw a half-dozen Yir warriors coming in their direction. The Yir’s mounts tossed their heads as the beasts galloped down the road from the clanhall, headed to where she and R’har stood.

  Apparently that Purist hadn’t gotten in so quietly after all . . .

  R’har saw the approaching warriors too. His face was ragged as his glowing eyes met hers.

  “I will remember, my Hope,” he promised. R’har touched his lips lightly to her forehead, the utter tenderness of it squeezing her heart. “I will remember enough for both of us.”

  Then he let her go.

  Twenty-eight

  Standing on the balcony of her quarters, Hope rested her hands on the waist-high wall, the surface rough beneath her palms. The third and smallest of Hir’s moon—the Little Sister, as the g’hir called it—hovered just above the western horizon.

  Behind her Hope heard Si’hala enter her quarters. The soft sound of her slippered feet crossed the living area then stopped at the entrance of the balcony.

  Very soon the Little Sister would vanish behind the Atali Mountains, marking the end of R’har’s claim to her.

  After a long moment Si’hala cleared her throat. “It is nearly time.”

  “I know,” Hope murmured.

  �
�Are you ready?”

  Hope rubbed her stinging eyes. Comfortable as that big bed was, she hadn’t slept well in it. She’d finally drifted off sometime in the middle of the night only to dream she was back standing among the Remembrance Stones, but this time R’har stood in the center with her. His arms encircled her and she clung to him but then the jewels around them began to vanish, disappearing faster and faster around them. His challenging snarl rose as the emptiness raced toward them, getting closer and closer, and then his roar stopped and there was nothing but silence.

  She’d woken up sobbing.

  “Do you have questions about the parting ceremony before we go down?”

  Hope shook her head. “Mirak announces that R’har’s claim to me is ended. And then you’ll say the Yir release me willingly and then Mirak takes me back to the capital for a big fat dose of amnesia and then . . . I wake up on Earth thinking none of this ever happened.”

  Si’hala’s rippled brow creased. “Are you afraid of the coming procedure? They have perfected this memory wipe,” she assured. “It was developed for the treatment of psychological trauma. It is very effective.”

  “And irreversible.” Hope wiped her palms against her jeans. She’d be going back to Earth in the same clothes she’d come in. “The doctor who examined me yesterday afternoon explained that they’re going to fix it so I’ll just remember wanting time alone to think. I’ll have some fuzzy memories of long walks and appreciating nature and crap.” She tossed her head with a carelessness she didn’t feel. “He said I’d have a strong aversion to thinking too much about it. Apparently my subconscious will provide the answers I need as I need them—like why the hell I didn’t call anybody, why I just walked out of the rental and left all my stuff there. I’m kinda curious myself what I’ll come up with but of course I won’t even realize I’m lying. The doctor said I might dream about being here though, about—” Hope swallowed hard. “Some of you.”

  Si’hala gave a faint smile. “Happy dreams, I hope.”

  Who would she think he was, the glowing-eyed creature who would haunt her dreams? Would she know R’har when she slept only to forget again when she awoke?

  Hope glanced at the still dark courtyard below. In the dimness she could make out the figures of warriors, land tillers, servants, all those g’hir males gathering for her departure. “Is he here?”

  “R’har must attend to formally relinquish his claim, just as I must be present to release you as a clansister of the Yir enclosure.” Si’hala hesitated. “The entire Yir enclosure has been searched and no other trespassers found. Lihr has increased the patrols and doubled the guards. The Yir have lodged a formal complaint with the Ruling Council. In the wake of this horrific assault we have demanded the arrest of all Purists.” She took a step closer, her glowing eyes solemn. “If you stay, I vow we will never be lax in your protection again.”

  “I don’t blame you for the attack yesterday,” Hope said. “And you know the Purists are not the reason I’m leaving.”

  “There are any number of warriors who still long for your eyes to turn their way in favor, if you—”

  “Please, Si’hala,” Hope pleaded, passing her hand over her eyes. “I can’t take any more. I bet Council Member Mirak already packed my shuttle back to the capital with warriors from his enclosure to pick from since I passed on his son.”

  “Mirak is supposed to be impartial!” Si’hala’s mouth tightened. “His role is to officiate on behalf of the Ruling Council, not use the opportunity to push his clanbrothers at you!”

  “Speak of the devil,” Hope murmured.

  The women watched silently as a dark shape sped toward them, its signaling lights marking it out as a shuttle.

  “Let’s get down there.” Hope straightened and headed inside. “I just want to get this over with.”

  “Hope—” Si’hala paused at the doorway. “What I said about Mirak— Please do not think I am motivated only by my clan’s interests. I have so enjoyed having you among us. I would very much like to keep you as my clansister.”

  “I like you too, Si’hala but I—I just can’t,” Hope said, her throat tight. “I’m going home. I have to.”

  Si’hala gave a nod—a human nod—and while her brilliant eyes couldn’t tear up, they were very sad indeed as she turned to lead the way.

  The faces of the assembled clan were grave and the courtyard, which had been so brightly decorated for her arrival, was gray under the overcast skies. It was chilly too, at this hour of the morning, as Hope took her place at the clanhall door.

  On the opposite side of the door R’har came to stand between Lihr and Si’hala, facing her. Those who had assembled in the courtyard quieted to bear witness.

  “The Day of Choosing is here.” Mirak raised his voice loud enough to be heard even by the farthest away of assembled warriors. “R’har of the Yir enclosure, you captured this female in honor but she has not accepted you as her lifemate.”

  R’har was pale, his eyes shadowed and his shoulders tight, but he met her gaze.

  “I concede my claim is at an end,” he growled, low and rough. “I have no further right to the one called Hope. I know myself forbidden to capture her again.”

  Mirak directed his attention to Si’hala, and the future clanmother inclined her head.

  “The Yir clan also yields its claim to this female,” Si’hala intoned. “In peace we release this clansister from our enclosure and into the protection of the Ruling Council.”

  “I accept this responsibility from you,” Mirak returned briskly. “Be assured that I hold it as an honor.”

  The Council Member was already urging her away but Hope paused to address Lihr and Si’hala. “Thank you both, for trying so hard to make me feel welcome here.”

  Si’hala gave a sad smile in return. “In my heart, Hope, you will always be my clansister.”

  Hope raised her eyes to meet R’har’s but couldn’t speak, not even to say goodbye.

  I won’t remember! I should be glad I won’t remember him!

  “Mata?” Mirak indicated that Hope should precede him to the shuttle.

  “Right,” she murmured, turning that way.

  “A moment—” R’har stepped forward quickly. “Please.”

  Mirak gave a low snarl of disapproval at this breech of protocol but Hope spoke first.

  “R’har?” She searched his raw gaze. “What is it?”

  “Hope, I deeply regret my deception,” he rumbled softly, words intended for her alone. “And I will forever regret your loss. Soon you will have no memory of me, little one, but for me your light will never dim.” A faint smile curved his mouth, his bright eyes soft on her. “The time we shared has been the greatest joy I could ever know. I pray the All Mother grants you every future happiness, my belov—” He broke off and she could see him swallow, suddenly aware again of the others present “Mata.”

  Hope looked up at him for a long moment. “What about today, R’har?”

  His brow creased. “Mata?”

  “What about today?” she asked again. “Do you think She’d do that for me today? The All Mother? I mean, She hardly knows me.”

  The g’hir gathered for her departure were shifting in their places, murmuring in confusion.

  R’har’ shook his head a little. “I do not understand.”

  Mirak cleared his throat. “Mata, the shuttle—”

  “I’m in the middle of something here,” Hope said shortly, never taking her eyes off R’har. “So—do you think She would grant me every happiness? Today?”

  “I am sure,” R’har replied, his bright green eyes bewildered, “that you are worthy of every happiness the All Mother can bestow.”

  “You know, I’m pretty damn good at screwing things up for myself. So I’m hoping you’re right about Her wanting to help me out because I am absolutely sure”—she wet her lips—“that I can’t do this.”

  He blinked. “Do what, Hope?”

  “This!” she cried, throwing her ha
nds out. “Do this! Get on that shuttle and lose—everything!”

  His brow furrowed and suddenly her words were tumbling out so quick she was stumbling over them.

  “Like how scary you looked but sexy too—’cause you did!—when you saved me from the bears and that cookie-thing you fed me—which was really awesome and I could eat by the truckload—and how you managed to land that ship even though it shouldn’t have been possible. And how you held my hand”—Hope reached out and clasped his hand, his warm broad, rough hand in hers—“when the medcomp was working on me and for once I wasn’t scared. And how you carried me away from the Zerar when they’d just shot you. And I don’t care that I could get my heart smashed up again—” Tears blurred her vision as she shook her head. “No, that’s not true, I do care. And I’m scared out of my mind right now but I can’t lose all those moments and smiles and—growls of yours, R’har. I can’t lose you.”

  “My Hope . . .” His face worked, his glowing eyes agonized, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. “But I have no claim on you now. I am forbidden to make another.”

  Hope gave a choked sob and he closed his eyes briefly.

  “For you I would—” His hold on her tightened and then, as if forcing himself to do it, he let her go. “But I cannot. By g’hir law my claim is ended now.”

  “G’hir law.” Hope wiped at her face roughly and gave a nod. “Okay, fine, g’hir law it is—I choose you, R’har.”

  He blinked. “You—?”

  They were all staring at her.

  “But—” Mirak sputtered. “Dawn has come and—”

  “And R’har’s claim is over, yeah, everybody’s got that, thanks,” Hope snapped. “When I was onboard the warship, Doctor Ki’san said that since the Scourge, women could choose a mate for themselves without being captured. That’s right, isn’t it? I can do that if I want to, right?”

  “Yes,” Si’hala agreed reluctantly. “But R’har is—”

  “Oh, hold up,” Hope said, cutting her off. “You said—like a million times—that I was welcome to choose any warrior of the Yir enclosure as a mate. Any warrior. R’har is a warrior of the Yir enclosure. So I choose R’har.” She looked at him. “To be my mate.” At his staring silence she cleared her throat. “Okay?”