It was late. We’d just gone at it hot and heavy, so hot and heavy I came three times, (yep, three). I was sated, drowsy and in a really good mood mostly because my husband had come home before I fell asleep but it must be noted it was also because he’d given me three orgasms. My mood was too good to let all that was weighing heavily on my mind weigh on it so I’d set it aside.
I was curled up against him, my legs tangled in his, my arm resting on his abs, my cheek to his shoulder. Lahn was on his back, his arm was under me, curled around, his fingertips trailing random patterns on the skin of my hip.
“Lahn,” I whispered to his chest.
“She is also mad,” he kept muttering and I pushed up onto a forearm and looked down at him.
“Mad?” I asked.
His eyes came to me and he used one word to explain. “Zahnin.”
I pressed my lips together.
Lahn kept talking. “Do not ask me to do something like that again, Circe. I understand your heart guides you in many matters. But I am warrior, he is warrior and this is a line we never cross. Am I understood?”
I kept my lips pressed together and nodded.
His eyes dropped to my mouth then his arm tightened around me, pulling me up on his body. His other hand lifted to shift my hair from one side of my face and hold it behind my neck.
Then he spoke in a murmur, “I do not like my queen’s lips pressed tight.”
I relaxed my lips and he gave a slight nod of satisfaction then his eyes locked on mine and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and even, fuck me, tender.
And I liked it.
“It means much to me that you let your heart guide you. It guided you back to me after I marked you and forced you to guard it from me.”
Oh God. He was being sweet again.
He kept talking. “But this, I fear, will cause you harm, my doe. And I want you to use caution as you open that heart. Zahnin is my closest lieutenant and I know much of him. He did not come to training direct from his parents’ care. His father was a warrior who died before he was born. A sickness took his mother not long after. His family took him in but they didn’t show him a great deal of kindness in the short time they had him. This would lead me to believe he does not understand how to provide this to his wife. Much time has passed since the Hunt so you must not hold high hopes for him winning her for, if you do, and he does not succeed, I know you will be crushed. This can happen and does. There are warriors who do not break through with their wives. If this does not happen, they can then cast them aside and attend another Hunt. It is their reward, as a warrior of Suh Tunak, to be provided a beauty to warm their bed, to do this willingly, to provide for their desires and to give them sons. And it is their right to keep seeking until that is found.”
My head tilted and I whispered, “Cast aside?”
He nodded. “Those cast aside are taken care of, given chams, even a slave. But they do not live the life of bounty that a warrior’s wife lives. Although the basics are provided, many of them must learn a trade to live a decent life. Sometimes, they will find a free man who will wish to take them as bride, and do, but this is rare. A warrior’s wife who is cast aside bears the reputation that she is unfit or unable to provide for a man’s needs and, although beautiful, will be avoided.”
Well, that sucked.
“Would… um, Sabine, Zahnin’s wife, if, um… this happens, since she’s not from Korwahk, will she be returned to her homeland?” I asked.
His eyes flashed and he stated firmly, “Absolutely not.”
Hmm.
“Why?”
“She is claimed, she is Korwahk,” Lahn stated just as firmly.
Hmm.
Time to change the subject because this one might irritate me and I wasn’t in the mood to be irritated.
“Did, uh… you, um… grow up under your parents’ care before training?”
It was the first personal question I’d ever asked him.
And he didn’t hesitate in answering. “I did, my tigress. My father was Dax and my mother was Korwahk, a great beauty. There was tenderness in his cham even though my mother could only give him one son, a difficult delivery rendering it impossible to provide him more. He was happy with the warrior she bestowed on him and he was happy with her.” His hand in my hair fisted when his voice dropped as he shared, “And I watched my father die during a challenge. I was warrior then and attended. As Dahksahna and as was her duty, my mother attended as well. His end marked her, as it did me, and she cared deeply for him. She would have lived a pleasant life as a deposed Dahksahna, the Korwahk people and myself providing for her but she chose not to live on without him. She took her own life the day after his body burned on the pyre.”
Oh my God. That was awful.
I felt myself melt into him as my hand lifted to cup his jaw and I whispered, “Lahn.”
His eyes held mine. “I regret she did not live to see her son best the Dax who bested her king. He was a man it was difficult to respect and not simply because he took my father’s head. It was a triumph in more ways than avenging my father to take his.”
“Honey,” I breathed and his hand moved to the side of my neck, his thumb beginning to stroke my jaw as I watched his eyes grow warm.
“Would that you were in my bed those years ago, Circe,” he whispered, staring deep into my eyes, “sharing with me like you are now your golden spirit to balm my own.” I held my breath as the silk of his words glided through me then he grinned. “And also here to celebrate my triumph when I took my vengeance.”
God, he was such a man.
I couldn’t help it, I grinned back at him.
“I take it that would have been…” I paused, searching for the word in Korwahk and hoping I found it, “energetic.”
His thumb stopped stroking and his fingers sifted up into my hair, putting pressure on so my lips touched his.
There, he whispered in English, “Oh yes.”
I found the right word or a right word.
I smiled against his mouth.
His eyes heated and he growled against mine.
Then his head slanted, his fingers pressed further, he ground my lips against his, they opened and his tongue instantly invaded. I made a noise in my throat and he rolled me to my back.
Then he demonstrated how energetic he would have felt after he seized the Dax. It was years later but clearly the glory hadn’t faded and I knew this mainly because, even after an already hot and heavy session, it… was… phenomenal.
So much so, my loud moans, whimpers and cries were noted by passersby, those inhabiting close chams and spies paying attention as were his groans, grunts and his final shout of climax.
And after he was through with me, thoroughly through with me, I fell into an exhausted sleep not thinking about holding magic. Not thinking of calling to the heavens to make them weep, to sending a rainbow arcing through the sky. Not thinking that I might have the magic in me to send myself home. And not thinking about Zahnin and his wife, hoping all would soon be well in their cham.
No, I didn’t think any of that.
Instead, in the seconds before my husband’s warm, hard, big body settled next to and partly over mine, his arm wrapped around, our legs tangled, I didn’t think about anything.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Contest
Seven days later…
I dipped my fingers into the pot of black paint and saw they were trembling.
I had to get a hold of myself.
But soon, very soon, in fact, I was all dressed and ready to go in my golden finery and as soon as I painted my husband, we would be out of our cham and on our way to Lahn facing Dortak in the challenge.
I knew one thing, Lahn would beat him.
I knew something else, as much as I hated Dortak and as little as it said about me, I cared nothing about the fact his life would soon end but I still didn’t look forward to watching my husband cut his head off.
And I knew one last thing,
Dortak would not hesitate to cheat and I didn’t want Lahn to get hurt when he did.
And I so didn’t want that that I knew I didn’t want it not because I simply didn’t want another man, an abuser and a cheater, to harm a man who would fight with honor. And I knew I didn’t want it not because Lahn had kept me fed and sheltered and showered in jewels and kickass clothes.
I didn’t want it because I cared about my husband and this feeling ran deep.
And because of this I was terrified out of my mind.
* * * * *
The last seven days had been good, very good, too good.
I had kept up my wanderings with Bain and Zahnin but now Zahnin was chatting. We didn’t have deep conversations where he bared his soul but he talked. He didn’t ask for advice or share how things were going in his cham but he did more than grunt unintelligibly at observations I made, he corrected my Korwahk and he often waded in to try to explain when I was speaking with my people on the (rarer and rarer occasion) I was messing it up.
Daily, however, I went to his cham to attend Sabine. At my request, Diandra and Claudine had sought and found the other girl not of Korwahk who was hunted with us. She was Fleuridian too, her name was Anastasie and although her warrior had been gentler with her, without the assistance I had or Sabine was getting, she was still lost in a culture she didn’t understand and more than a little alarmed by it (she had not, for instance, been sheltered from the selection or the celebration after). With Narinda, Diandra and Claudine gave all of us lessons in Korwahk and often Nahka would come by, sometimes bringing her friends, and lessons would descend into girlie time with Diandra and Claudine translating. With this, it didn’t take long for laughter to ring from Sabine’s tent.
And this laughter was ringing once when the flaps slapped back and Zahnin entered.
Sabine did not scurry away but her eyes did snap to him. She held her body tense but not tight nor terrified, just guarded.
I counted this as progress.
He took in the scene then his eyes went to his bride and he asked, “All is well, wife?”
Claudine interpreted and after a moment’s hesitation, she nodded.
Then Zahnin tipped his chin up to her, walked forward and executed a smooth move right in front of all her new girlfriends.
He ran the backs of his fingers gently across her cheek even as she visibly failed to fight back a slight wince.
He wisely ignored this and whispered, “This pleases me.”
Then, without another word or glance at anyone, he turned and walked out.
Nice. Very nice.
Sabine stared at the tent flaps in open-mouthed shock.
Diandra, Claudine, Nahka and even Narinda and I shared knowing and amused glances.
In our time with her, Sabine did not share how things were going and we didn’t ask. But Zahnin’s move made me hold hope that even if he wasn’t raised with kindness, he was the kind of man who was born with it.
I had heard and processed Lahn’s warnings but still, I couldn’t help it.
I was hopeful.
* * * * *
It became clear to me the night of the day of the rainbow that Lahn had settled his horde and therefore he came home much earlier. This meant more lovemaking. It also meant more chats, some of them heartfelt (for instance, when I told him stories of my father, his men, horseback riding lessons and the like), some of them informative (Lahn explaining things about Korwahk, how he spent his days, how I spent mine, me telling him how I learned how to play guitar (though, mention of another man in my life was not looked on favorably so I made a mental note not to do that again)), some of the chats were amusing and I realized my husband had a dry wit.
I also realized that he found me hilarious in a resigned way that, even if resigned, he felt it was appealing. He thought I was quite mad, I knew, with half the shit I did and said, the way my heart guided me, the easy way my temper flared, but he found it attractive and he didn’t hide it.
I liked that.
He even once came home in time to take dinner with me in the cham and as he did, I realized I’d never seen him eat. I also realized he ate a lot. He was a big guy and he had a big appetite. With the way he ate, how he kept that six pack was anyone’s guess. But I liked that he enjoyed his food and he did not hide it.
He was also gentle with me in many ways and took time and patiently began to assist Diandra in her teachings about the Korwahk and The Horde. He was king, he could do as he pleased and expect to do it without being questioned and his people had lived their way of life for eons but I liked that he took the time to explain things to me.
Truth be told, I was beginning to like everything about Lahn.
And, stupid me, I did absolutely nothing to stop it.
* * * * *
I often spent time with Diandra, Nahka and Narinda but I did not broach the subject of my magic and my possible goddess status with any of them and they didn’t with me either.
I didn’t know why they didn’t but I didn’t because I was stupid.
And I didn’t because I wanted Zahnin to win his wife and Sabine, who was very sweet, to settle and find contentment and even happiness after what she’d endured. I wanted her to have what Mahyah never found. I wanted that a lot. And I wanted to do what I couldn’t do for Mahyah, and that was to help her have it.
And I also didn’t because I liked wandering the Daxshee, talking to my people, gabbing with Bain, exchanging comments with Zahnin, learning Korwahk, getting to recognize faces and beginning to share in the lives of my people, knowing who was sick, who was pregnant, whose son was to go before my husband in the next selection and the like.
And I also didn’t because I liked my nights with Lahn, our chats, our lovemaking. And I liked our mornings, his baths, sometimes my baths with him, the soft talks we’d have as he sat cross legged in front of me while I sat on the pile of hides and braided or bunched his hair and… um, our lovemaking (that was good enough to repeat).
Diandra was right and so was I. After Lahn hit me, he listened to what I said to him and inadvertently I had taught him a lesson at the same time he realized he had a battle on his hands and set about winning it. He had changed, sharing with me his time, his wit, his sweetness and his patience as well as his body and in so doing, he succeeded.
And he was enjoying his spoils for he knew from one look at me in the parade that I was what he’d been waiting for for years (he told me this during one of his heartfelt chats). And he now had it and he was not only content, he was openly happy.
And I liked that he was but further, that it was me that was giving it to him.
Therefore, I wasn’t broaching the topic of magic because I was actually enjoying being with the Korwahk, with my husband, with my friends.
This didn’t mean I wouldn’t kill for a burrito or a cell phone where I could call Diandra or Narinda rather than traipsing all the way to their chams with one of my guards in hopes they were home when I wanted company, but as the days went on, these longings faded, my memories of home faded and Korwahk became my reality.
When I allowed myself to think of it, I told myself I would, and soon, find out what was happening and then make a decision about what I would do next.
But, for now, I would give myself this.
Because I liked it.
See? Stupid.
I totally should have sorted that all out before Lahn faced Dortak in the contest for the Dax and maybe got himself injured, something I would have to watch or, God forbid, the gods of this world wept because the earth was falling from the sky and Dortak took my husband’s beautiful head, then he turned to me.
See?
Totally.
Stupid.
* * * * *
I set the pot on the table and turned to Lahn. Not looking in his eyes, I started at the indentation of his collarbone and drew a heavy line down his chest, starting to paint the design I hadn’t realized until then I had memorized.
“Uh…” I mumbled in o
rder to take my mind off the day’s events and take Lahn’s off the fact that I hadn’t quite controlled the trembling of my hand, “you only wear black. What do the other colors warriors bear signify?”
I didn’t look at him when I asked my question but I knew he’d tilted his head down to look at me as he answered.
“White is an unseasoned warrior, new to the kill. Red indicates those who go on campaign. Blue, those who go to war or patrol Korwahk. All colors, those who are seasoned, who have gone on raids and handled themselves well in war and therefore have proven themselves. They can choose to raid or war or both. Green, a color you may not have seen, are warriors who now spend their time training. Those wearing only black are my lieutenants, warriors who have my ear, who lead troops on assignment or who belong to The Horde that travels with the Daxshee, in other words, they have also proven themselves in battle; they are our finest warriors and therefore hold a high rank.”
“Mm hmm,” I mumbled, listening but not listening then, twisting, I grabbed the pot, gouged out more paint and turned back to him, lifting my hand to start on the arcs.
I didn’t touch his skin. This was because his fingers wrapped around wrist.
Then he said softly in English, “Give me your golden eyes, Circe.”
I bit my lip then lifted my eyes to his. I knew I was not hiding anything when his went soft and his hand tightened around my wrist.
“He will not best me,” he whispered, again in English.
“Right,” I whispered back but that one word trembled.
His brows rose slightly. “You do not have faith in your king?”
I shook my head once. “No, I do.” Then I was still whispering, my voice continuing to tremble, when I said, “He cheats.”
“I know this,” Lahn replied and when I made no response, his other hand came up and curled around the back of my neck, holding me warmly there. “Because I know this, do you not think I have planned for it?”
Um… actually, no. That thought hadn’t occurred to me.
“Uh,” I started then admitted, “No. I didn’t. I’ve been too busy freaking out.”
Whereas when amongst the Korwahk, I almost always spoke Korwahk, when Lahn was in our tent, he demanded we converse in English. He caught on quickly proving maybe, he actually was a god or at least he was super clever. Further, this aided in softening my heart because I liked that he wanted to learn my language and share that with me.
The Golden Dynasty f-2 Page 30