Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3

by Danes, Willow

  “The journey from Hir to your world will not take long.”

  “Yeah.” She gave a wry smile. “Too bad you can’t open a wormhole to take us from here to the clanhall.”

  “I would need a ship,” he reminded, smiling a little too. “One cannot open a wormhole with a multari.”

  “I didn’t even ask—is she okay? Did you find a place for her?”

  “Beya is comfortably housed in a small cavern not far from this one. She was not happy that I left her to come here.” His glowing eyes crinkled. “I think she is jealous of you.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Summer’s eyebrows rose. “Why would she be jealous? And how can you even tell if a multari is jealous anyway?”

  He gave a short huff. “She has feelings just as you and I do. Of course she feels jealousy. As to how”—his broad shoulders lifted in a shrug—“when you spend as much time with one as I have with her you come to understand a being, even when she cannot speak.”

  Summer took a bite of the food he’d prepared and blinked.

  His brow furrowed. “Is there something wrong?”

  “Wrong?” she got out, already spooning up more of the stew. “This is fantastic!”

  He gave a half shrug. “It is not my best . . .”

  She gave a laugh. “Well, now I want to know what your best is.”

  “I will hunt a kartlet.” His chest puffed up a bit. “I will roast it for you over an open flame, and season it. Then,” he added with a g’hir chin jerk, “you sample my best cooking.”

  Summer dropped her gaze and offered her own half shrug. “I make a real good lemon pie.”

  “What is that?” he asked, his eyes bright and curious.

  “It’s a dessert . . . from Earth.” Her bit her lip. “Jeez, obviously it’s from Earth. It’s my Granny Crawford’s secret recipe. I’m the only one she taught how to make it. Probably on account of being the only one bugging her to learn it. It’s all from scratch, even the lemon curd. Everybody loves it,” she mumbled, suddenly feeling silly for having bragged on it at all.

  “Then I am sure it warrants their esteem,” he rumbled.

  Despite his claim that it was nothing more than emergency rations, dinner was delicious, and he seemed very pleased that she took seconds.

  “What is ‘bloodhound’?”

  Summer blinked at his sudden question—and that he’d said the English word. “What?”

  “You said I—that the g’hir—are half ‘bloodhound.’ I do not know what ‘bloodhound’ is.”

  “Oh.” She had said that. “It’s a dog.”

  “‘Dog’?”

  “A dog is a domesticated animal, a canine. Bloodhounds are a breed of dog well known for having an amazing sense of smell.”

  “Because the g’hir have a more acute sense of smell than humans.” He tilted his head. “You equate me with this ‘dog’ creature.”

  If she tuned out the translation in her head and just listened with her ears Ke’lar’s speech sounded just like a bunch of snarls and growls.

  His brow furrowed. “You are smiling. Why is this funny?”

  It was actually really funny but she didn’t think he’d get the joke.

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry, even if I did equate you with a dog you should take it as a compliment. A lot of humans love them like family.”

  He was silent for a moment. “I should like to see a dog someday. To taste lemon pie.”

  “Maybe you will.”

  “Perhaps.” He was already busying himself by gathering the remains of their dinner. “I will clear this away, then leave you so you may sleep.”

  “Leave me? Where are you going?” She glanced toward the shelter opening. “You’re not sleeping outside?”

  “We are still within the cavern,” he reminded with a raised eyebrow. “I will not drown.”

  “Well, Jesus, I know that. I didn’t mean, were you going to go sleep out in the rain! I meant there’s no reason for you to sleep on dirt in some miserable, damp—Look, it’s warm in here and—” She gestured to the pallet, as comfortable as anything she’d ever slept on. “This is your bed. You should get to sleep in it.”

  He frowned a little. “I do not wish my presence to make you uncomfortable.”

  “It doesn’t. I mean—you don’t. It’s fine.” She cleared her throat. “You can sleep in here. You should get as much rest as you can, right?”

  “It would be more comfortable.” He gave a shrug. “And if it does discomfort you to have me here . . .”

  “Nope,” she said firmly. “Won’t bother me at all.”

  Ke’lar went to check on Beya one last time for the night and Summer had just gotten under the covers when he returned. He was soaked again but threw her a smile when he ducked into the shelter.

  “She okay?”

  He nodded, grabbing a cloth to rub his hair with. He’d left his boots outside so as not to track mud into the shelter.

  “She was asleep when I entered the cavern,” he said with a huffed chuckle, already unfastening the jacket of his warrior’s clothes. The jacket served as shirt too and his chest was bare beneath it, the muscles of his broad back evident as he turned to hang the damp garment. “Apparently I disturbed her.”

  She’s not the only one . . .

  Summer shifted under the furs, wondering why she’d ever thought having him sleep in here—and share the bed—was a great idea.

  “I offered her some grain,” he said, already undoing his trousers. “But she would not eat. I think,” he continued, stepping out of them and hanging them as well, “she is simply too tired.”

  He turned to her then, unabashedly bare.

  Holy cow, that All Mother does some seriously good work . . .

  His skin was darker than hers all over, a natural color, not a tan. His shoulders were broad and his muscled chest had only fine hairs. On either side of his abdomen, the muscles of his groin created a vee and the planes of his perfect stomach flexed as he knelt beside the pallet.

  He was beautifully male, with cock and balls very like a human. The skin was darker there, veins visible beneath the skin, and resting on his muscled thighs, his penis was long and thick already. She was surprised by the longing to touch him; with a few strokes of her hand she could have him standing—

  “Summer?”

  His brow was creased a bit. G’hir didn’t have the same concept—or really any concept—of modesty as humans did. Likely, he really was wondering why her face had gone all pink, why she couldn’t look at him . . .

  Why she couldn’t stop looking at him . . .

  He knelt at the pallet’s side, his vibrant gaze catching hers. “Do you want for anything, little one?”

  “Excuse me?” she got out.

  He indicated the luma. “Before I lower the light.”

  The luma’s light played over the flatness of his abdomen; he was so close she could feel the warmth of him, could breathe in the cinnamon scent of him.

  His brow creased again and she realized he was still waiting for her to answer.

  “We should get some sleep,” she mumbled. “Right?”

  He gave a human-style nod. “That would be best.”

  He lowered the illumination but not to total darkness, and she suddenly thought that he had done that out of consideration for her. He would be able to see well in far less light than she.

  Unfortunately, that had her able to see every curve and plane of his beautiful body as he joined her on the pallet.

  Dismayed, Summer realized that when she was alone in it the pallet seemed huge but there wasn’t a whole lot of space left when you added a nearly seven-foot-tall warrior to it.

  She realized too how thin her nightgown was. His skin brushed against her bare leg as he settled beside her and it was impossible to ignore his warmth, his scent . . .

  “I would never hurt you, little one,” he rumbled softly, his face inches from hers. “You have nothing to fear from me.”

  Startled, she
met his gaze. “I know that. I’m not afraid of you.”

  “I can hear your heart.” In the next moment his warm, broad palm rested on her breastbone. “It is going very fast.” He searched her eyes. “Your breathing has quickened as well.”

  In fact, this close he ought to be able to scent her arousal too.

  Thank God at least he thinks I’m scared instead of—

  “Perhaps,” he suggested, taking his hand away, his fingers lightly brushing her skin as he did, “if we talked, you might be reassured. Perhaps become calm enough to sleep.”

  Gotta do something.

  He settled beside her, his warmth and male scent making her long to be closer still.

  “Tell me of your world,” he urged. “Tell me of Earth.”

  She cleared her throat. “I don’t know what to say. Earth’s not like Hir. We have so many different cultures on my world, so many different religions and languages and traditions . . . it’s not an easy question to answer.”

  He turned to lie on his side, facing her, his head propped up on his elbow. “Then tell me of your home there.”

  “Well . . . I grew up in Brittle Bridge—that’s a town in North Carolina—but I moved to northern Virginia when I went to college. My parents died when I was in school there.” She wet her lips. “That was awful. Mom had breast cancer and we really thought she was going to make it but . . . anyway I think it was just too much for my dad. They say people don’t really die of a broken heart but I know that’s not true ’cause he did. I buried both my parents in eighteen months and I was a mess. That’s probably why I took up with Dean so quick.”

  “Your human mate.”

  “I guess you could call him that but he was no kind of husband, really. We got divorced the week before I graduated from college. He wanted a fun girl, someone up for anything . . . I was such a mess when my mom got sick, when I lost her and dad too, that I graduated a year late—” She shook her head. “Anyway, Dean and I met at a party the night I got back to school and I had had way too much Smirnoff.” She gave an embarrassed smile. “Between the vodka and the platinum blond hair, I think I just gave him a bad impression of who I really am.”

  “And who are you?” he rumbled, his eyes glowing blue even in the faint light of the shelter.

  She blinked. “That’s not an easy question to answer.”

  He gave a quick smile. “But if you know who you are not . . .”

  “Then that just leaves who I am?” she asked wryly.

  Ke’lar shrugged. “It is a place to begin.”

  “Well,” she began slowly after a moment. “I guess you could say I’m pretty responsible, but then again I’ve had to be. I’m twenty-six and a lot of women my age are still clubbing while I’m the coupon-clipping, money in the cookie-jar and in a high yield CD type. I guess that has a lot to do with losing my parents when I did. My parents left me some money, not a lot, and I wasn’t about to squander what I had especially since . . .” Summer shifted on the pallet. “Well, since everyone else could go home to mom and dad if they ran into trouble but I had to rely on myself.” She passed her hand over her eyes. “I sure couldn’t count on Dean for anything.”

  “You have great courage,” he growled. “To head into the Hir forests alone and untrained.”

  She gave an embarrassed shrug. “I had a blaster.”

  “I have been meaning to ask . . . Did you have a destination when you fled their land?”

  She hesitated, but really, what difference did it make? “The capital. I knew if I headed east from Betari territory I’d eventually hit Be’lyn City.”

  His black eyebrows shot up. “You were going to the capital?”

  “Yes,” she said, a little annoyed that he made idea sound ludicrous.

  “You—a human female”—his voice rose—“were going to go alone and unprotected—into Be’lyn City?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Typical dumb blond thing to do, huh?”

  “I do not understand what your hair shade has to do with any of this,” he growled with a dismissive glance at it. “And your high intelligence is unquestionable but—the recklessness of it! Why would you go there?”

  “Where the hell else could I go?” she demanded. “Besides, it’s a big city and in my experience if there’s something that you’re looking for that’s tough to find—say, transport off the planet—a big city is a good place to find that.”

  “And that was your plan? To wander the city alone, seeking help?”

  “I can take care of myself! You know,” Summer said, turning and leaning on her elbow as he was, “you guys go on and on about how g’hir are honorable warriors—”

  “Not all of us!” he burst out, flinging his hand out in an uncharacteristic show of frustration. “Did you think a city full of males from a dying race would let a beautiful human female just walk by without seeking to capture her? If you had even reached the capital! You would have to cross Erah land and Arnaru lands before you came to the city outskirts. And with no resources—”

  “What the hell happened to thinking I’m brilliant and brave? Those are resources. Besides, I have a truckload of stubbornness and a backpack full of jewels!”

  “You—?” He shook his head a little. “What do you mean—what jewels?”

  “The jewels the Betari gave me as the next clanmother.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I had to have something to bribe or buy my way back to Earth! It’s not like they take Visa.”

  He stared. “You are a thief!”

  “You can’t steal what people give you!” she threw back. “They insisted I take them! Swore up and down that they were mine!”

  “I do not think using the riches of a hundred generations of Betari clanmothers to flee their enclosure is what they intended!”

  “Oh, well, oops.” She gave an exaggerated shrug. “Maybe next time they kidnap someone they’ll explain the terms in writing.”

  “This is an affront to their enclosure.” He passed his hand over his face. “Now they will say I have stolen you and their heirlooms.”

  “Stolen me?” she asked. “What are you talking about?”

  His face flushed with annoyance but then he met her eyes and his expression eased. “There are traditions, forms that must be observed to prevent war—”

  “I guess your clans really hate each other, huh?”

  “An ancient rivalry,” he grumbled. “And a pointless one, since we are all dying out.” He shook his head again. “The jewels must be returned to the Betari.”

  “But not me?”

  “Of course not,” he growled, sounding surprised. “I would never return you to them.”

  He actually seemed to mean that.

  “I’m not sure I was going to make it to the city anyway,” she mumbled. “I mean I figured I could do ten miles a day easy, maybe fifteen if I pushed it. Turns out I was figuring it with paved roads in mind. I really underestimated how hard it was to travel through uncut forest. I’m sure I didn’t have enough food. I didn’t really know how to find water—I can’t smell it like you can. And now, with the storm—”

  “Then it is fortunate the Goddess brought me to that riverside,” he said with a faint smile.

  She hesitated. She shouldn’t even care but . . . “What were you really doing way out there anyway, Ke’lar?”

  “Foresting.”

  “Yeah . . . you may not have noticed but I’m human,” Summer said dryly. “I don’t really know what you mean when you say that. It seems a bit like a mix of what humans call ‘camping’ and exploring but from just the way you guys say the word I know it’s more.”

  He regarded her thoughtfully. “It is a difficult concept to express in words. It is something instinctive to g’hir, something we understand from earliest childhood. To forest does mean to travel, to explore the land as our ancestors did, but it is more,” he agreed. “It is a sacred journey as well. A way of opening oneself to the lifeforce that is Hir, that is our All Mother.”


  “So you weren’t . . . Look, I’m just going to say it—Were you out there to spy on the Betari?”

  He gave a short huff, a surprised g’hir chuckle. “No. I confess it did not even occur to me. I care little for enclosure politics. I only sought a solitary place.”

  “Why?” He was silent for several moments and she raised her eyebrows. “Is this some kind of secret g’hir thing humans shouldn’t ask about?”

  “I sought to commune with Hir,” he said reluctantly. “With the All Mother, the giver of all life. I was praying to Her.”

  “For something? Or because you’ve done something you were sorry for?” She covered her eyes with her hand and flopped onto her back. “Never mind. I can’t believe I even asked you that. It’s none of my business anyway.”

  “The answer is both,” he said quietly after a moment. “I went to ask the Goddess for something but also to loose my anger upon Her.”

  “Your anger?” She frowned at him in surprise. Ke’lar seemed like the most even-tempered person she’d ever met, g’hir or human. “Why are you angry with your Goddess?”

  His throat worked for a moment. “Because she had long ignored my pleas, denied me that which I have longed to have. I begged the Goddess to let me go to your world that I might find a mate,” he rumbled quietly. “When I knew for certain there was no hope that I would ever make that journey, I could not bear even the company of my clanbrothers. I forested for weeks, alone, raging at Her . . . hating Her . . . before I came to that place by the river. I looked into the night sky, to the Sisters looking down so coldly on me, I watched the Brother suns rise, demanding to know why our Mother would have had me be born at all only to suffer. But I was a fool. I will forever beg Her forgiveness, offer up my gratitude.”

  “A fool?” she asked. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because She brought me something more precious than I could ever imagine.” His blue eyes glowed in the dimness as they met hers. “You.”

  Ten

  “Me?” she breathed.

  “You cannot say you have not noticed.” His bright gaze was raw. “I cannot hide my feelings for you any more than I can stop my heart from beating.”