Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3

by Danes, Willow

  She headed upstream like he had too but it was hard going, much harder than she expected. The water dragged at her feet and even with the moonlight it was a struggle to see her way. The water soaked her boots, icy enough to make her grit her teeth—probably runoff from the nearby Zun Mountains. She slogged along until the shore on either side looked good and rocky then made her way to the eastern side to slide her pack off.

  Then, bending and scooping, she covered herself from head down with mud.

  PawPaw had been evading dogs, not g’hir, when he’d done this but what could fool a bluetick hound’s sniffer might just fool an alien’s too.

  She coated her hair well, intent on dulling its bright platinum to the muck’s dun color, better to camouflage herself from the g’hir’s sharp eyes. The mud was just as miserably cold as the water, slimy too, but there was one thing to be grateful for: it was mid-spring on the g’hir homeworld; she wouldn’t freeze to death out here. It had been winter in North Carolina; the Smoky Mountains were buried in white, every store in town alight with decorations for the upcoming holidays when Ar’ar had come to Earth and ripped her right out of her life—

  Her nostrils flared, remembering. She’d fought that glowing-eyed demon with strength borne of terror until a shot from his blaster had knocked her out. When she’d awakened on his ship they were already light years from home. He’d cuffed her wrists together—some stupid alien courtship custom of theirs—and when he’d finally taken the restraints off he’d tried to mate with her.

  But despite the heat of his amazing body, the warm male scent of him and that mating sound he made as he caressed her—a rumbling-purr that tightened her pussy and vibrated right through her clit till she was gasping with need, scarcely able to keep from grinding against him to seek release—Summer wouldn’t submit to him and, to her genuine surprise, he didn’t rape her.

  That was the one good thing about Ar’ar. He’d taken her from Earth just as other human women had been to be mates to g’hir warriors but he wouldn’t force her. With his size and strength she wouldn’t stand a chance and as aroused as he made her, her body would betray her to pleasure if he took her as sure as the cold water raised gooseflesh on her arms now.

  He’d claimed her; he brought her back to his clan—proof of his hunting prowess or some such crap. Nightly he tried to seduce her, that rumbling sound making her wild with need. His fangs flashed in annoyance every time when she, trembling with arousal, refused him, but he didn’t insist on anything more than sleeping beside her.

  But no plea or demand or efforts to reason with him were going to get her back to Earth either.

  Ar’ar’s father, Mirak, clanfather of the whole damned Betari enclosure himself, had told her in no uncertain terms that this world was her home—and Ar’ar her mate—no matter what she wanted.

  With a hard splat she smeared mud on the outside of the pack too.

  The capital city of Be’lyn lay due east of the Betari enclosure and she had a long haul to get there. Also contained in her bag, rolled into another set of practical clothes, was a fortune in jewels that Ar’ar had gifted her, as the Betari’s future clanmother, enough to buy or bribe her way back to Earth.

  Completely covered in muck, Summer shouldered her pack again and started east.

  She would get home—and in time—no matter what.

  The dried mud started to itch even before Hir’s twin suns—the Brothers—rose. By midmorning it took a lot of her willpower not to scratch. The mud might be disguising her scent from the g’hir but it felt heavy and stiff in her hair and some flaked off as it dried, irritating her nostrils, bitter in her mouth. Gritty on her tongue, it was very like its peaty smell and, even through she knew she shouldn’t waste the moisture, she couldn’t help but spit to clear her mouth of the nasty taste.

  It was hours since Ar’ar must’ve awakened to find the place beside him empty, since he’d gone in search of her within the confines of the Betari enclosure, realized she was nowhere to be found . . .

  Summer batted at insects, slapping the biting ones, moving through the forest as fast as her leaden legs would allow. She wasn’t sure if his pride would insist he come alone or if the Betari’s leader would send clanbrothers with him to bring her back.

  But Ar’ar was hunting her now.

  Her stomach growled but she ignored it. She’d stopped briefly at dawn to rest and eat but she didn’t want to stop again until—

  One instant the cay’ik wasn’t there then it was.

  She gasped as dozens of spindly black legs propelled its worm-like body along the ground toward her. About the same size as Granny Delilah’s dachshund, with a pale, waxy yellow body, the creature scuttled forward.

  It made a scorpion look positively cuddly. With venom that paralyzed the victim even as it liquefied flesh for the cay’ik’s consumption, it was one of the most deadly—and revolting—creatures on Hir.

  Its black gaze fixed on her and her eyes widened as its round mouth opened to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth. Fumbling in her pocket for the tiny blaster as the cay’ik lunged, Summer backpedaled so fast she lost her footing, landing hard on her butt.

  The fall knocked the blaster from her hand and it bounced out of reach.

  The cay’ik hissed and spit and Summer kicked hard just as it launched itself at her, catching the wretched thing in the face with her heel. Like quicksilver its body whipped around and the creature’s mouth clamped down on her boot.

  Yelping, she scraped at it hard with her other foot to dislodge it. The cay’ik flew though the air to land on its back but it was stunned only for an instant, its many legs waving for a moment before gaining purchase enough to flip it back onto its belly. Summer threw herself to the side as it jumped right at her face.

  The cay’ik exploded as her blaster bolt caught it square on.

  Shaking with reaction, gripping the blaster so hard her hand hurt, Summer realized a venomous bite would get her off Hir quick too and not in any way she’d intended.

  But she didn’t feel any pain. Liquefying flesh would hurt, right? Wiping her foot against the forest floor, she cleaned the top her right boot off quickly to judge the damage. To her astonishment—and relief—the cay’ik’s teeth hadn’t managed to breach the tough leather of her boot.

  Green goo and a few still-twitching black legs were spread over a full square yard, some even sticking to the bark of the trees behind where the cay’ik had been.

  Summer pushed her mud-caked hair out her face. “God, I hate this fucking planet!”

  Her legs felt a little shaky as she got to her feet and skirted the remains. Cay’ik were fiercely protective of their large territories so she wasn’t likely to come across another for hours.

  And at least she knew the weapon worked, and worked pretty well at that since it had blown the cay’ik to gooey pieces. Next time she stopped she would check the blaster, see if it had any sort of power setting or something that she could adjust—

  A flurry of movement made Summer gasp and sent her fumbling to raise her blaster again. Recognizing the flock of nuaran birds she gave a short relieved laugh and tucked the weapon away.

  She might hate this world but it did have its beauty too. For a moment she was transfixed as the nuarans, their scarlet plumage glorious against the deep blue of Hir’s sky, flew over her head, weaving through the trees, their cries echoing through the forest.

  Then her smile faded.

  Oh my God . . .

  Those birds were fleeing something. Something big and loud enough to startle a whole flock into flight.

  Like a mounted hunting party of g’hir warriors.

  The sound of the blaster shot would have carried and with the g’hir’s sense of smell and the creature’s charred flesh—

  Summer broke into a run.

  Her breath burned in her throat as she ran, branches scratching her face, pulling at her clothing, as she pushed her way through the trees.

  I have to get home! I have to!

/>   Suddenly—so suddenly she was shocked into a clumsy halt—she was out of the woods and in a clearing. It was a lovely spot, the azure sky breathtaking, the ground flat and grassy, the sunlight sparkling on the river beyond.

  And she wasn’t alone.

  More amazing still, she’d managed to startle him as much as he’d surprised her.

  The warrior rose from his crouch beside the simple shelter to regard her in astonishment. He was very tall, like all the g’hir were, with the same alien rippled forehead and heavy brow. His blinking eyes glowed too but unlike the Betari clanbrothers’ amber color this warrior’s eyes were as blue as the sky above, his hair black instead of the Betari’s dark red-brown. His clothes were different too, softer in color and cut.

  “By the All Mother—” His glowing gaze was wide. “You are human.”

  He was g’hir but he wasn’t one of the Betari clan. He was just as alien as they but—

  “Please!” Summer took a few stumbling steps toward the stranger. “Please help me!”

  Two

  The warrior took quick strides toward her. He was powerfully built, his vivid blue eyes predator sharp, but his hold was gentle as he caught her by the shoulders.

  “How are you here, little one?” His rippled alien brow furrowed as he took in Summer’s muddied clothes, her matted hair. His quick sniff at her had his nose wrinkling instantly. “By the All Mother, what has happened to you?”

  “I came through the forest, they’re—”

  “How are you here?” he asked again, sharper this time. He glanced in the direction she had come. “That way lie the Betari lands.”

  “Yes,” she gasped. “I came from their enclosure.”

  He released her as if she burned him. “Then you belong to one of their warriors.” His lip curled and he stepped back. “A human female separated from your mate by the forest; simply lost and seeking him.”

  “No!” Summer shook her head. “Please! I need your help!”

  He gave a short huff. “You are not lost to him forever. If your mate is a warrior worth his name, he will find you swiftly.” The stranger gave her a gentle push toward the woods. “Go back that way. You will soon be reunited with your mate, little human.”

  “He kidnapped me!” Summer cried, doggedly following the blue-eyed warrior as he stalked back to his campsite. “He kidnapped me and brought me here from my world!”

  “Many of your kind are unsettled when you are first captured,” the warrior rumbled. “Soon you will accustom yourself to him happily.”

  “Goddamn it, I don’t have time for this!” Summer’s hands clenched into fists. “Don’t you understand? The bastard’s right behind me!”

  The warrior stopped short. “You are fleeing your mate?”

  “I escaped the clanhall last night but he’s tracked me. You’ve got to help me get out of here!”

  “What do you mean—you escaped?” he demanded. “Why would you need to?” His glance went over her again. “Has your mate mistreated you?”

  “You mean other than kidnapping me and taking me to an alien world?”

  “To capture a female is our way,” he growled, turning away. “You have nothing to fear from your new mate.”

  She grabbed his arm to stop him. “Goddamn it, I need your help! And I need it now!”

  “If he has not mistreated you what reason have you to run away from him?”

  Summer hesitated. He sighed and his expression softened a little, his hand covering hers where it rested on his arm.

  “If he has been permitted to hunt a mate on your world then he is an honorable g’hir warrior,” the stranger soothed. “You are a human female and highly prized. He will never harm you. Your mate will care for you and protect you, always.” He gently removed her hand from his arm and indicated the forest. “Go. Return to your mate.”

  Her eyes stung with tears. It was so unfair! After all she’d been through: the capture, the terror, the translator chip Ar’ar implanted in her brain without her permission so she could understand the g’hir’s snarling, growling language. The sickening, never-ending anxiety that Ar’ar might lose patience at any time and rape her, forcing her to breed a half-human, half-g’hir monstrosity. That she might never see home again, the desperate planning and sneaking and fear of what they would do to her if they caught her—

  The warrior was frowning, his glowing blue eyes searching her face.

  “Please . . .” Summer’s vision blurred. “Please . . . I am begging you . . .”

  The warrior’s gaze cut toward the forest, past his own mount grazing contentedly near the treeline, and a moment later she could make it out too, a sound like distant thunder, the heavy beat of multari hooves coming this way.

  His fangs suddenly flashed in a snarl and he shoved her toward his shelter. “Inside.”

  “No! We have to run! They’ll—”

  “Quiet!” he hissed, seizing her elbow to propel her toward the geodesic dome and shoving her inside.

  The shelter was tall enough that she could stand comfortably but with his height the roof was only inches above his head. It was large enough to accommodate a wide pallet bed piled with furs and while things were neatly arrayed it looked as if he had occupied this camp for at least a few days.

  “Whatever happens, stay here.” The warrior pulled the pack from her back and tossed it into the corner of the shelter then fixed her for an instant with his furious blue gaze, his voice a tight whisper. “And for the love of the All Mother be quiet.”

  He ducked back out and yanked the fabric door shut behind him.

  With only one entrance in or out there wasn’t going to be an escape through the back door this time. There were fabric “windows” but they were closed. It was unpleasantly stuffy in here, much warmer than it was outside. But in his hurry he hadn’t sealed the door completely; a tiny sliver was left open.

  At the sound of the arriving riders, Summer knelt and eased herself down to lie flat, peering out through the tiny crack.

  She had the answer to one of her questions immediately.

  Ar’ar wasn’t hunting her alone.

  She counted no fewer than five clanbrothers riding with him, though his father, Mirak, was not among them.

  The blue-eyed warrior strolled to meet them as they reined in a few paces from the treeline, the multari shifting restlessly under them. The stranger’s pace was unhurried, the set of his shoulders showing him a man curious but not yet alarmed.

  He inclined his head to the mounted warriors and when he spoke, his words carried to where Summer hid. “I greet you in peace, clanbrothers of the Betari enclosure.”

  “I know you,” Ar’ar said shortly to the blue-eyed one. “You are Ke’lar, the Erah clanfather’s son. You are brother to Ra’kur.”

  Ke’lar gave an agreeable shrug. “And I recall seeing you—and your father Council Member Mirak as well—at the wedding celebrations at the Yir enclosure this past midwinter, Ar’ar of the Betari.”

  “What are you doing here?” Ar’ar demanded.

  “I might ask the same of you and your clanbrothers,” Ke’lar replied, sounding surprised. “Since you come in such numbers and your multari show you have ridden hard.”

  Ar’ar’s fangs bared. “We are hunting.”

  “Ah, then I must caution you—” Ke’lar sent a wave at the surrounding area. “In the excitement of your hunt you have mistakenly crossed the border into our lands. This territory is part of the Erah enclosure.”

  “Only the very farthest point of it!” Ar’ar snapped. “Why do you forest here, Ke’lar, son of the Erah?”

  “I may forest within any of the Erah enclosure,” Ke’lar said, an edge creeping into his voice. “Even to the very border of our land . . . if I wish.”

  There was a tense pause and Summer could see Ar’ar’s hard stare on Ke’lar even from here.

  “What are you hunting?” Ke’lar asked, pleasant again. “It is the wrong season to find kartlet in this area. They will not be pl
entiful here until the summer suns are on the wane.”

  Ar’ar’s gaze was hooded, his mouth tight as the multari shifted beneath him. “A fugitive. A warrior who has broken with clan directive and fled Betari justice.”

  A fugitive? Summer frowned. Why the hell didn’t Ar’ar just say his mate had run away? Was he embarrassed or something?

  “A criminal?” Ke’lar asked, his tone turning grave. “The man must still be in your territory. I have been here many days and not seen another warrior—of my clan or yours—in all that time. In fact, I have not seen any clanbrother of the Betari—save yourselves—since the last winter gathering at the Yir enclosure.”

  Ar’ar’s glance went to Ke’lar’s camp, to the shelter where she hid, and Summer had to control the urge to duck away lest even that slight movement drew his attention.

  Ke’lar patted the neck of the multari Ar’ar rode. “A fine mount indeed. Did you purchase him? Or was he bred from stock in your enclosure?”

  “May we hunt the one we seek in your land?” Ar’ar asked bluntly.

  He doesn’t know I’m here! Summer’s mouth parted. He can’t smell me! If he could he’d be on me like a duck on a June bug!

  “I cannot give permission for that.” Ke’lar sounded a little offended and dropped his hand. “Only our clanfather can allow you onto our lands in such a great number.”

  “I could hardly invade your territory with only six warriors,” Ar’ar said sharply. “And we do not seek to break the treaty! It is not by my wish that our clans are enemies. I only wish to have returned to me that which is . . . our own responsibility.”

  “I am sure my father will send a hundred warriors here”—Ke’lar spread his hands—“if a clanbrother of the Betari, a fugitive from justice, has dared breach our borders. I came here to offer the All Mother my reverence but I will return to our clanhall and relay your message to him, if you wish to wait.”

  For a moment Ar’ar looked as if he would argue further, but then one of his clan brothers caught his eye.