Davor

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Davor Page 6

by Leslie Chase


  He put his arm around her shoulders and she stepped closer to him. "That's ridiculous, Davor. You can't put everything on the line for me."

  "I can, and I will. You may not know what it means, but you are my mate, and that matters more to me than I can express."

  Helen blinked, feeling tears well up in her eyes. It was a lot to take in and she wasn't sure how much she could trust the feeling of safety she got from Davor: he was the only person who offered her any protection here, but that didn't mean that he would deliver. She had plenty of experience with men who promised her the world, only for her to find out that their promises meant less than nothing to them.

  This felt different, though. More true, more real. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Doesn't it always feel different? If it didn't, no one would ever fall for the liars and the con men.

  But despite her doubts, she couldn't help responding to the sincerity in his voice. And he had put himself and his friend in danger, stepping in when Karak tried to drag her away. She let herself relax against him, feeling the firm strength of his chest as he held her to him. The feel of his body, hard muscle moving under her, was impossible to ignore.

  God he feels so good, she thought, leaning into him and letting her arms circle his body. Powerful hands pulled her close, and the feeling of safety surrounded her. He lifted her against him, cradling her and lowering them both to the ground, holding her against him.

  "What are we going to do?" she said, knowing that the feeling of safety was only temporary. He would protect her as best he could, but how much would that be? "I'm not going to survive here. I'm not strong like you are."

  "I think you're stronger than you know," Davor said, brushing her cheek with a finger. "But you're right, no one is safe here. There's only one answer, I have to get you out of this place."

  "Is that even possible?" Helen looked around as she spoke. They were speaking quietly, whispering almost, and no one was close enough to overhear. She hoped, anyway — the aliens had already shown they had disconcertingly good hearing.

  If that worried Davor, he gave no sign. "All I need to do is get you to the Worldwalker's Gate. As long as you make it through the next few days, we'll find a chance for you to slip away and escape. Once you reach the Gate, a thought will take you home, and the Fire Wolves don't know your world so they can't follow. You'll be safe."

  "You can come too," Helen said, hope flaring in her heart. She sat up, looking into Davor's eyes. "Come back with me to Earth and be free."

  "I can't abandon my people," he said, his tone so sad that it tore at her. "I wish I could go with you, but if I escape, the Fire Wolves will take it out on my Clan — and they know which world I come from. My being a hostage is all that keeps the war from continuing."

  Helen swallowed a protest, wondering how it would even work if she did go home with a blue-skinned giant at her side. What would happen to them? Maybe it's best if he stays here, she thought, though she couldn't believe it. Leaving him in slavery couldn't be the best option, and at least on Earth they could try and figure out something. Who knew, maybe the government actually had some kind of alien contact agency or something?

  "Your people are going to have to fight the Fire Wolves eventually," she said after a pause, trying to think of a way to convince him to leave. "They aren't going to leave you alone."

  "I know," he said, and sighed heavily. "But I don't know how ready they are for it. I hope my father has been getting ready for a fight, but we were pretty badly mauled when they captured me. I can't pick the fight when I don't know whether we can win it yet."

  "But you can't just wait it out," Helen said. "Something has to change."

  Davor nodded, lying back and looking up at the moon hanging in the sky above them. Helen lay against his chest, following his gaze. The moon hung low in the sky, far bigger than Earth's, ruined cities staring down at them from its surface.

  "You're right," Davor said after a moment. "Especially now that I know what Tark's planning for me, I can't let him succeed. It's not just my Clan that's hanging in the balance, there's so much more — if he manages to set himself up as an emperor, who knows where he'll stop? There are powers that the Ancients wielded that no man should hold, but Tark will take them up if he can."

  He sighed and shook his head. "That doesn't make it easy to stop him, though. At least I know what to do with you."

  Helen's heart skipped a beat at that, and she felt her face flush. She looked away, biting her lip, and he chuckled. "I meant that I have to get you out of here."

  "I know what you meant," Helen snapped back, embarrassed by her reaction. I just wish you meant something more immediate. She couldn't say that, though.

  His powerful hand took her by the chin, and with gentle but irresistible strength, turned her back to look at him. The intensity of his stare bored into her soul, and she found herself falling into the depths of his eyes.

  It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. A connection between them, between their minds and souls, that she couldn't doubt or resist, and wouldn't have wanted to. His aching need for her was laid bare along with the pain he felt at the choices he was being forced to make, and she knew that he could see her as clearly.

  Delicately, carefully, he rose up to kiss her, his lips strong against hers. The touch sent a shockwave of sensation through her, her body responding to his with a passionate need. She sighed into his kiss, her lips parting as she pressed herself to him.

  She didn't know how long that first kiss lasted. It felt like forever, but it was far too short. When their lips parted, she was breathing quickly and her heart was racing, her fingers trembled as she brushed back her hair, and her body tingled. Davor's heart pounded too, she could feel it against her, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes as he looked up at her.

  "I can't," he said. His voice was calm, controlled, but he couldn't fool her. She could see the anguish tearing at his heart as he spoke. "You'll leave, go home, and I will stay. We can't be together."

  With that, he lifted her off him and turned away. She could feel the pain in him, the heartbreak, and the determination not to hurt her more than he had to.

  Quietly, she put her arm around him, wishing she knew what to do to shield them from that pain.

  10

  Davor

  The first sun rose over the hills, and Davor woke with it. His sleep had been troubled, dark dreams chasing him as he tried to rest though he couldn't remember the details of them now that he was awake. There was one thing he was certain of, though — Helen had featured in all of them.

  He looked over to her, curled up and asleep still in a corner of the hut. The sight of her awoke the longing his body felt for hers, but he sternly willed himself to stillness. It would just make things more difficult when she leaves, he told himself. We can't be together, and I want her to be able to forget me. Even if I know I'll never forget her.

  Reaching down, he brushed his fingers through her soft hair, feeling his wolf's anger at his decision. But he wasn't going to let his animal soul tell him what to do, not here and not now. This was, he told himself, too important.

  Outside, a horn sounded — the morning announcement that the work parties were being assigned. That meant they had only moments before they had to be outside and ready to go, or there would be harsh consequences. Regretfully he gripped Helen's shoulder, shaking her awake.

  For a moment, as her eyes opened, she looked confused but happy. A sleepy smile spread over her face as she looked up at him, and her hand took his. Then the horn sounded again, harsh and angry, and the noise startled her to full wakefulness. Davor saw the memory of where she was, what was happening, come back to her — and with it, her smile vanished.

  "You have to get up," he urged her. "Quickly, or they will punish you."

  His heart burned with a desire to protect her, but that was hopeless. There was nothing he could do against such numbers. No, the only plan to try was to keep her from drawing too much attention until he
could find a way to smuggle her out of the camp. And that meant being out before the third and final blast on the horn.

  Helen squeaked as he lifted her up and carried her unceremoniously outside. Squirming in his grip, she said something under her breath that Davor couldn't make out but knew wasn't polite, and he couldn't help but chuckle. She wasn't one for giving up, that was certain, even in the face of overwhelming strength. There was no way that she could get free of his grasp, but she didn't let that stop her.

  He admired that, even if it was foolish of her.

  Outside, the rest of the prisoners were already gathered, but he made it into the group before the Fire Wolf warrior at the gate blew his horn for the third time. The supervising guards moved quickly through the prisoners, snagging workers for their teams. Davor's hands flexed at the idea of one of them mistreating his mate. Helen shot him a look, narrowed her eyes, and shook her head.

  "Don't be stupid," she whispered to him. "I won't forgive you if you get yourself killed."

  A ghost of a smile touched his lips, and he nodded his understanding. If I die before I can save her, no one will protect her. He repeated that to himself as the guards worked their way closer.

  The leader of the lumber crew looked at her, shook his head, and moved on without a word. Davor felt himself relax slightly. That was rough work, and Helen wasn't suited to it, but at least the guard seemed to recognize that. He wasn't sure why he hadn't been picked, though.

  The next guard to pass grabbed Helen and shoved her over to the small group he'd assembled. Red filled Davor's vision for a moment, and it was all he could do to keep himself from tearing the man's arm off.

  "Camp clean up," the guard snarled at Helen as she stumbled over to join the crew, and Davor relaxed slightly. That didn't sound like it would be tough on her compared to the alternatives, though it still tore at him to let them lead her away. Helen turned to look at him, as though feeling his pain, and gave him a little shake of her head. Forcing himself to relax, he nodded back to reassure her he wasn't going to do something foolish.

  Around him, the rest of the prisoners were rounded up into groups and marched off group by group. None of the guards chose him, though, and shortly he was standing alone, watching the last group marching off into the hills.

  "What's going on?" Davor asked one of the remaining guards, who shrugged.

  "The Ard has other plans for you," he replied. "You'll find out about them soon enough, I guess."

  Davor glared, but the guards weren't interested in conversation and he could hardly force them. All he could do was wait. By the time that Ard Tark made his appearance, the second sun had joined the first in the sky.

  "Well, Davor?" Tark wasted no time as he strode into the prisoner pen, his personal guards keeping a wary eye on Davor. "You've slept on my offer, have you made up your mind?"

  "It's a lot to decide," Davor said, playing for time.

  "No, it's not." Tark's voice was friendly, almost fatherly, but none of that reached his eyes. They were cold, calculating, dangerous. "The offer is simple, and ought not to be difficult. You get to be a part of my family, your Clan grows in power and influence, and you marry my daughter. What is there to refuse in any of that?"

  There's the fact that you put your daughter's happiness up as a bargaining chip, and the fact that she's third on your list. Davor couldn't trust a man who would barter away his family like that, but he was never going to trust Tark anyway so maybe that didn't matter.

  "My ancestors didn't make deals like this lightly," he said, trying to find an excuse to delay that Tark would accept. Once he said no, he didn't know how Tark would respond but he was sure it wouldn't be good. "It's hard to reach them here, though, when I'm so far from home. I'm sure that they will send me a sign of what to do."

  Tark smiled at that, seeming to accept it. "The ancestors are everywhere, my boy. I'm sure yours will approve of a match that will make their Clan one of the most powerful in the galaxy, and they'll give you the sign you need. Soon."

  Clapping Davor on the shoulder, Tark led him back into the main camp, where prisoners were clearing up the remains of last night's festivities. Helen was amongst them, working hard under the eyes of the guards, and Davor tried not to let himself stare at her. It wasn't easy to look away, and Tark's sharp eyes missed nothing.

  "It's clear you like the strange female," Tark said quietly, and Davor cursed himself for being transparent. Lying had never been a strength of his. "I don't know why she matters to you, but she does. Don't worry, as long as Gesha doesn't mind neither do I. There's no reason you can't have both... as long as you're willing to make the right choice. But if you're not, you won't have either, and that girl doesn't look like she'd last long in the mines. Or if Karak takes an interest in her; my son has many admirable qualities, as you'll see when you're brothers, but he does not play gently with his toys I'm afraid."

  Davor stiffened, and only the presence of the guards kept him from leaping at Tark. The Ard's casual threats towards Helen were almost too much to bear. If she wasn't at risk too, he wouldn't have been able to control himself. But Davor knew that even if he could kill Tark before the guards brought him down, the vengeance Helen would suffer would be terrible indeed. If I'm going to save her, I'm going to have to live through this moment. And I will save her, even if I die trying.

  So he fought down his rage, trembling silently as Tark spoke. The Ard looked him in the eye, shrewd intelligence flashing behind his mask of fatherly concern. "Don't mistake me, Davor. I value you, and I want to make you happy in my family. But if you aren't a part of my family, then you are a dangerous enemy — and I don't leave those lying around. So you can seek your sign from the ancestors of your Clan if you want, but consider what it would mean to refuse. Maybe her presence is the sign, a sign that you should join the winning side."

  They stood eye to eye, locked together. Anyone else would have broken eye contact quickly, unable to meet the anger and ferocity of Davor's gaze. But Tark wasn't just anybody, and he matched that stare with a calm, controlled power that Davor hadn't seen anywhere else. Is he mad, or inspired? Is there even a difference?

  Unwillingly, he nodded. "Perhaps you are right," he told the Ard. "The ancestors can send a sign in the strangest ways. I will consider that."

  "Good!" Tark laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Then you'll give your answer to Gesha by the time the suns rise tomorrow, and I'm sure you'll choose correctly."

  "Not to you?" Davor asked, surprised.

  "I have to leave," Tark said, a twist of annoyance on his lips. "Being Ard takes a lot of work, and not all of my sons are capable deputies — Gorvar has made a mess of the task I left him and I must go and salvage what I can. This is exactly why I need someone like you in the family, Davor, and why you should understand that you can do well as my son-in-law."

  Davor took a deep breath and looked away, trying to hide his relief. Whatever Tark's son had fucked up, Davor owed him a debt of gratitude. With Tark and his guards away, there was far more chance that the other Fire Wolves would leave him an opportunity. But an opportunity to do what? He didn't know yet, he just knew that he had to look for something.

  Turning back to Tark, he nodded. "I'll make my peace with the ancestors today, Ard Tark. Gesha will have my answer by morning."

  11

  Helen

  Clearing up after the festival was tiring work, but Helen was glad of something to keep her occupied. At least it wasn't unpleasant as such, and certainly not dangerous — seeing what had happened to Samsar, she knew that was something to be grateful for.

  But there was a lot of it to do, enough that she and the four other prisoners would be busy all day with it under the watchful eyes of the guards. If they'd pitch in and help it would take half the time, she groused to herself, but the Fire Wolves were clearly not interested in doing something when they had slaves to do it for them.

  To make it worse, they wouldn't let the slaves speak to each other, not more than
the bare minimum they needed for dividing up the work. When she tried to talk to the prisoner who was helping her pick up broken pieces of discarded dishes, the only response was a warning look from the prisoner and a slap from the nearest guard.

  "Keep quiet," the alien snarled. "No one wants to hear you talk."

  Count yourself lucky Davor didn't see that, she thought, looking at the ground to hide her venomous glare.

  "Why's this one important anyway?" another guard asked, ignoring her presence as she went back to work. "Just one more alien guest."

  "I don't know," the first guard said. "But I do know better than to question orders."

  As the day went by, the second sun rose and with it the temperature. It was nearly unbearable for her, and even the Fire Wolves started to wilt in the heat. Eventually, they waved the prisoners into the shade and let them rest while the blazing heat baked everywhere the sunlight fell.

  The guards shared flasks amongst themselves while the prisoners looked on enviously, and Helen felt faint. This heat would have been bad enough with a cool drink, without one it was punishing. She lay back against the wall of the building they were sheltering beside — because of course the prisoners weren't allowed inside — and closed her eyes, trying to relax.

  Even in the shade it was bright by her standards, the double suns far brighter than Earth's single one. With her eyes closed, it was bearable, and she started to drift off.

  A rough hand on her shoulder jerked her back to alertness, her eyes snapping open to see a blue hand holding a flask in front of her face. Davor? But she even before she looked she knew it wasn't him.

  Grabbing the flask in both hands anyway, she took a deep drink of water. It was cool and refreshing, and the taste of it made her sigh. She took another drink and looked up to see Karak looming over her, the nasty smile on his face making her want to spit out the water.

 

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