by Tasha Black
“It’s a beautiful language,” she said. “I always wanted to learn it.”
“What’s left on the list?” he asked, sitting beside her again.
Suddenly, she was too aware of his big body, the warmth that seemed to emanate from him. Even the smell of him was addictive.
You have too much love. Find someone to share it with.
“Nothing,” she said. “There’s nothing left on the list.”
It wasn’t really a lie. Was it?
“Nothing?” he asked, leaning back, eyebrows up slightly.
“I saved motherhood for last,” she explained. “I knew it would be hard to do other things once I had a baby.”
“You weren’t wrong about that,” he told her sincerely. “The whelp is small, but demanding.”
“It seems like all he does is sleep,” Liberty said.
“Give him time,” Odin said with a rough chuckle. “He’s more complicated than he seems.”
“I appreciate the advice,” Liberty told him. “All of this is new to me - the baby, the farm.”
“You’ll like it,” he told her. “You seem like the type of person who can adapt.”
“I’m the kind of person who is willing to try,” she said. “Are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know you didn’t exactly like me in the beginning,” she said. “And then there’s some obvious… chemistry between us.”
He clenched his jaw, but didn’t argue.
“But I’m not looking to fall in love again,” she said. “Not that I think that’s what you’re looking for, of course.”
She took a deep breath and wished he would bail her out by saying something - anything.
But he simply fixed her with his dark gaze, making it hard for her to focus on what she wanted to say next.
“What I’m trying to say is that we’re going to be in close quarters for the next twenty years,” she said at last. “I’d like for us to be more than two separate people serving Colton’s needs. I’m going to need good advice and it’s clear that you and Colton have a strong relationship. You deserve to be more to him than just a guard.”
“What are you saying?” Odin asked.
“I’d like for us to be friends,” she said simply.
He gazed at her for another moment and then his face lit up with another of those rare smiles.
“Friends,” he said, offering her his arm.
She clasped it and he wrapped his hand around her whole elbow in return, as if she were a tiny doll.
And in spite of the wild sparks of attraction she had to fight back, Liberty felt at home for the first time in a long time.
6
Odin
Odin began to wake from a dream so sweet he fought to stay in it. He was enveloped in warmth and goodness.
But the cries of the morning birds and the scent of strong coffee burst through his senses and he reluctantly opened his eyes.
Though they had gone to sleep fully dressed on opposite sides of the massive bed, Liberty must have been drawn to him in her sleep.
Odin still lay on his back, an arm behind his head.
But Liberty’s cheek was resting on his chest, her hand splayed on his rib cage, and one of her long legs was flung possessively across his hips.
His body responded before he was awake enough to stop himself. He rolled her over, pinning her to the bed, and nuzzled her neck.
Liberty moaned lightly and wrapped her thighs around him, arching her back so that he could feel her nipples pebbling against his chest, even through their clothing.
Yes, the dragon roared.
But Odin clenched his jaw and rolled off of her, landing on his feet on the far side of the bed.
Liberty’s eyelids fluttered and for a moment he simply watched as her body sought his.
He throbbed in sympathy with her need, they had both been so close to the edge of ecstasy.
Her eyes opened and she gasped and sat up.
“O-Odin,” she murmured, searching for him.
“I’m here,” he told her.
Her eyes met his and she flushed, breaking eye contact to look at her hands, which she clasped together nervously.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to, that is, did we...?”
“We didn’t,” he reassured her.
“Good,” she said distractedly. “Good.”
“I’m going to wash up,” he told her.
“Of course,” she said. “I’ll, um, I’ll see to the baby.”
He nodded and headed to the washroom, hoping a cold shower would help him make it through the endless cart ride without going back on his word to her.
Mate, the dragon growled.
Friend, he reminded it.
Odin hadn’t had many friends. There were his brothers-in-arms of the Invicta, of course, but they hardly counted. The warriors had each other’s backs for survival.
And a soldier’s life of travel and adventure meant he hadn’t had the opportunity to make a lot of friends outside the regiment.
He turned on the shower and began to strip off his clothes.
While it might be difficult, maybe even impossible to be friends with the woman he needed so desperately to claim, he had to find a way to make it work.
It went beyond his respect for the woman, whose attempts to honor her dead loved one had squeezed at his heart.
It went beyond his own guilt, and his desire not to accept comfort. He had forgotten all that last night when she stepped out of this room.
No, the reason he had to make their friendship work was so much more simple. It cut to the quick of his heart.
Colton’s happiness was on the line.
Where the whelp was concerned, Odin would cut no corners.
No matter how hard it was, he would be a friend to Liberty Clark. Damn the consequences.
He stepped into the shower and closed his eyes.
But in spite of the pounding of the frigid water, all he could see was her face.
She was so quiet and polite, but she had opened up to him.
He admired her honesty, and winced at the idea that he hadn’t been nearly as honest as she had.
You did not tell her about the mate bond, the dragon agreed.
But she didn’t want more than friendship. How was he supposed to tell her that she already meant more than that to him?
And the worst of it was that now that he knew her better, he did want her - hook line and sinker - mate bond or not.
Whether he deserved happiness or not…
But he had made a strategic error. While she had won his heart with her openness, he had begun their friendship with a lie.
He promised to be her friend, even when he knew full well he could never be only that.
He was already her mate in all but a technicality.
And one day, they would both fall prey to the pull of the bond, and the technicality would be gone too.
If he didn’t tell her, she would never forgive him when that day came and he bound her to him.
And if he did tell her, she might rescind her offer of friendship.
The irony was painful. For years he had told himself that losing Adyxx was unforgivable. That he could never taste happiness again.
But now he realized this might not be irony at all.
Maybe he could pay his debt to the kid with this lifetime of torture.
By being so close he could taste it, and yet so far from happiness.
A cry from the bedroom told him that Colton was awake.
7
Liberty
Liberty spent the first part of their journey wondering why Odin was so quiet. Not that he’d been especially talkative yesterday, but so far, he’d been completely silent. And after a hearty morning feeding, the cart had lulled Colton back into a deep sleep, leaving Liberty on her own.
At least it was easy enough to distract herself with the scenery. Dim light filtered through the cloud cover, dappling
the grasses at the edge of the plains.
The grasses themselves waved in the breeze as if in slow motion. Gravity was lower on the frontier moon, but only slightly, giving the world a dreamlike quality.
The Inn at Five Points had stood at the intersection of a well-maintained cobblestone road, a bumpy looking dirt path, a rail line of some sort, and the slight furrow in the grasses that their cart was currently jostling along.
It seemed like they were headed toward a blue mountain range. She hadn’t really thought about the fact that the highlands might mean a mountainous place.
She was about to ask Odin why anyone would farm on a mountain when Colton stirred in her arms.
She assumed he must be hungry. He seemed to wake only enough to latch onto his milk bulb and drink his way back to oblivion.
But when she looked down, he was looking back up at her.
She instinctively smiled in delight.
The little fellow was finally awake and alert.
His eyes were a deep gray, and full of wonder. He opened and closed his tiny hands as if trying to capture the light and shadows of the new day.
“Yes,” Liberty told him. “The world is a magical place. I can’t wait for you to see it all.”
He grabbed her chin with his little fist and crowed.
“He was up all night before you arrived,” Odin explained. “I think that’s why he slept so much yesterday.”
Liberty didn’t blame him. She hadn’t slept much the night before meeting her new family either.
“I’m so glad you’re awake, my love,” Liberty told the baby.
He smacked his lips and grabbed a hank of her hair.
“Is he hungry again?” she asked Odin.
“No, he’s just making conversation,” Odin explained.
“I wonder what he’s thinking,” Liberty said.
Odin smiled.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re his mother,” he said simply. “He’s thinking that you are beautiful, and he loves you.”
“That fast, huh?” she asked, swallowing down a lump in her throat.
“Of course,” he said. “Don’t you feel the same way about him?”
“Of course,” she said.
“He knows,” Odin told her.
She gazed back down at the little face that held her hypnotized. This tiny baby couldn’t do anything on his own.
But he did know she loved him. Odin was exactly right.
“You are wise to be so small,” she told Colton.
“Not wise enough to let go of your hair before he hurts you,” Odin said, reaching over and stroking the back of Colton’s little fist.
The baby released her hair instantly.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
“It’s just a baby thing,” he said, shrugging. “If you touch the inside of his palm, he’ll hold your finger. And if you stroke the outside, he’ll let go.”
“That can’t be right,” Liberty said.
“Try it,” Odin offered.
She skimmed her index finger along one open hand.
Instantly, Colton grabbed her finger.
She looked up at Odin in surprise.
He laughed. It was a lovely sound, deep and rich, reverberating through her.
She quickly turned her attention back to the baby before she could remember how handsome Odin was.
“Stroke his hand,” Odin urged her.
She did, and the little fist released.
“That will save you from being bald as a boulder before he grows up,” Odin pointed out.
“Thank you,” she said. “This friendship is working out for me already.”
“About that,” Odin said.
But Gadabout snorted and stopped in her tracks before he had a chance to continue, causing Liberty to almost slide off her seat.
Odin caught her by the elbow and hauled her back up.
“What happened?” Liberty asked.
“It’s a storm,” Odin said, glancing up ahead of them.
They had been slowly winding uphill, but Liberty had been so interested in the conversation about Colton that she hadn’t realized they were now on a narrow path heading up the side of the mountain.
Ahead of them, something floated menacingly in the air.
Odin had said it was a storm, but it was nothing like any storm Liberty had ever seen.
It was dark like a cloud, but rounded, like an oblong soap bubble. As she watched, it undulated toward them.
“Did you say that was a storm?” she asked him.
“A floating mist storm,” he explained. “It happens on Lachesis, in the mountains, because of the low gravity and the pressure systems.”
“Is it dangerous?” she asked.
“Not normally,” he said. But his voice was too calm, too careful.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“Let it pass,” he said. “Except that we’re on a narrow trail and we can’t back up fast enough.”
Liberty looked around. There were several large trees just off the path. She wasn’t sure if they would provide much cover, but it had to be better than nothing.
“If we get out, will Gadabout be okay?” Liberty asked.
“If she runs, it will be along the path,” Odin pointed out. “Or she’ll wreck the cart. Hard to say. Why don’t you and Colton take cover. I’ll stay with the beast.”
Liberty got a pang, like someone was stretching her heart into pieces at the thought of leaving him.
But that was ridiculous. She was only going to hide in the trees next to the path.
Odin hopped down and offered her his hand.
“Okay,” she said, not feeling good about it. She had to protect Colton. That was her whole life now. Odin could handle himself.
“There are a lot of crustaceans in the trees,” Odin said, helping her down. “Don’t go too deep.”
“Crustaceans?” she echoed in horror.
“Go,” he said sternly.
She followed his eyes to the storm ahead. It was nearly on top of them.
Gadabout snorted and kicked her legs.
“It’s only a bath,” Odin said, holding the creature’s harness. “You can certainly use one.”
The storm rumbled as loud as a starcraft engine.
Liberty shuddered and slipped into the trees beside the road.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the shade. Lachesis was murky enough, but under the tree canopy it felt like night had already come.
She kept her body wrapped around Colton, who made a small squeaking sound of protest when she blocked his view.
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized the tree beside her was teeming with life. Tiny, shelled creatures marched industriously along the knobby bark, carrying bits of leaf. Tendrils of moss reached out and floated away from her, obviously spooked by her presence.
Some sort of creature had constructed a gorgeous dome-shaped web made up of circular cells. Nothing was caught in it, but drops of dew shone like diamonds in its depths.
Up on the path, Gadabout made a shrieking sound, and she heard Odin’s low murmur again.
She was very sure he was only insulting the big ox-yak, but his gentle tone was working. And it was better than hearing the cart careening off the mountainside.
“Moons of Tar-zak,” Odin growled.
She leaned forward to try and catch a glimpse, but she came face to face with a little turtle sitting in a nest on a branch of the tree.
“Come on out,” Odin said, sounding pissed off. More so than usual.
She stepped carefully back out onto the path and had a hard time taking in what she was seeing.
Thousands of clear droplets hung in the air, reflecting tiny rainbows in every direction.
Odin was dripping wet, his hair hanging in a black waterfall down his back. He would have been shockingly gorgeous if his face hadn’t been a study in abject fury.
Gadabout was also wet. But she looked less angry ab
out it. As Liberty watched, the ox-yak stretched her neck to grab a bite of a flowering shrub just off the path.
“What happened?” Liberty asked.
“The storm hit us and burst,” he replied, as if it should have been obvious.
“Why is the rain floating?” she asked.
“Same trick of gravity and pressure,” he said. “It’s not really floating, it’s just falling very slowly.”
She watched a droplet carefully. He was right, it was drifting down like the leaves after harvest season back home.
Colton cooed and squeezed a drop in his tiny hand.
“Rain,” Liberty cooed back to him.
“Let’s get out of here,” Odin said, offering her his hand again.
She stepped through the drifting raindrops to take it. Though she was prepared for the incoming wave of desire this time, it still shot through her like a jolt of electricity, making it impossible to think of anything else but his touch.
Surely she would get used to him soon, and this unbidden need would release her from its clutches.
8
Liberty
A few hours later, Liberty looked around the hillside farm as the cart finally came to a stop.
A wooden sign that read Clark was affixed to a post under a lush tree, whose branches hung low under the weight of large yellow globes she imagined must be fruit.
“Welcome home,” Odin said gruffly, leaping out of the cart and offering her his hand.
She took it, making sure to cradle Colton securely in her other arm first. The little one was much more active today, peeking out of his blanket and smacking his lips at her.
Two strapping men approached the cart as she stepped down.
“What ho,” the taller one called out in a jovial way. He had a long blond ponytail and a broad, happy face.
“Ho, there,” the other one added. He was similar to the first fellow, but with dark hair instead of light. “I’m Raspin and this is my brother Crispin.”
“Odin and Liberty,” Odin responded, offering the man his arm. “You’ve been looking after the place?”
Raspin grasped Odin’s arm, skillfully managing not to touch the scales on Odin’s forearm.