It was him or a little girl who had no one but her mother.
Summer would never wish her daughter away; that child had brought more joy and meaning to her life—even with all the struggles of being a single mom—than she could ever have imagined. But if by some chance she had never had Emma, if she didn’t have anything so precious back on Earth—
Summer’s eyes were drawn to Ke’lar, to his muscled back, his back hair, his rippled brow in profile, his glowing eyes firmly turned away.
I’d stay with him. Oh, my God, I want to stay with him.
The realization held her frozen for an instant, thigh-deep in the chill water of an alien world, watching the dappled light of Hir’s suns play across his broad shoulders.
And going home means I’ll never see him again. I won’t even remember . . .
Summer couldn’t help but edge a little closer to Ke’lar when they encountered the first of his clanbrothers on the road. The men had been talking, laughing amongst themselves as they came from the direction of the enclosure, but they stopped, staring, as soon as they spotted her.
He called out to his fellow Erah, acknowledging each by name, as she and Ke’lar approached, but they didn’t return his warm greeting.
They had gone silent, their glowing eyes—in shades of blue from the palest gray to sapphire dark—fixed on her, their faces slack in astonishment.
“Who are you?” one of them asked Ke’lar without taking his eyes off her for an instant. She had the spooky feeling that he was weighing the idea of his chances of getting away with her swung over his shoulder. “What is your namesound?”
“This is Summerelizabethmills,” Ke’lar replied, making her first, middle, and last name into one long word.
Summer glanced at Ke’lar. She’d have to explain to him later how the three were really supposed to be distinct and why, but she sure didn’t feel like extending this meeting any longer by starting up some conversation.
“She cannot be yours!” one of the younger ones exclaimed suddenly. He took a step closer to sniff lightly. Ke’lar tensed at her side and the young man threw a startled look at him. “She does not bear your scent.”
Clearly the idea that he might be traveling with a human female he hadn’t already claimed was astounding. She could also see that it was starting to sink in to the clanbrothers that she might just be fair game.
Oh, this could get ugly fast . . .
“I’m Ar’ar’s mate,” she said, her voice strained. “From the uh, Betari clan.”
Apparently speaking just managed to rivet their attention back on her completely.
“What are you doing here?” one asked. He glanced at Ke’lar. “With our clanbrother?”
“She has come to speak to our clanfather,” Ke’lar said, putting his body between her and the men who seemed rooted to the spot and blocking their way.
“I have seen Ar’ar,” one of the men who had not yet spoken said. “He is a fierce warrior.” His azure eyes fixed on her and his full mouth curved a bit. “But to challenge him would be worth the price.”
“She is the honored mate of the Betari heir and our guest,” Ke’lar said sharply. “She is deserving of the hospitality of our clanhall and its comforts. You will not offer her insult by delaying our journey.” His voice lowered to a snarl. “Stand aside.”
The men were startled, but his outrage—and implied threat—got them to move so that Ke’lar and Summer could pass.
Ke’lar indicated that she should go first. Ducking her head, she preceded him, and discovered she was trying to make herself a little smaller as she walked past the men.
Summer trusted Ke’lar’s senses enough that she knew he would be aware if one tried to follow them but a glance back showed the men hadn’t budged, still watching her with predator-like fixation.
“That was uncomfortable,” she muttered when they had gone far enough along the road to be out of sight.
“That was nothing compared to what you would have encountered had you entered the capital alone,” Ke’lar growled. “And there would have been none at hand to call upon clan loyalty and good manners. They would be fighting in the streets over you.”
“Okay, yeah, maybe the city wasn’t the best plan.” She glanced back. “What did that warrior mean? That challenging Ar’ar would be worth the price.”
Ke’lar’s jaw hardened, his glowing gaze on the road ahead. “A warrior may challenge another for his mate.”
Summer’s brow creased. “What kind of challenge?”
“A battle between unarmed men. The victor takes the female.”
“That’s barbaric,” she got out. “That’s appalling!”
“Most females find it flattering, a great tribute to their desirability,” he grumbled.
“And a great insult to their self-determination!” she cried. “What if the woman in question doesn’t want this new guy?”
“There is the understanding that she would have voiced some interest in having him as her new mate.” He gave her an impatient look. “Did you not understand that is what N’ar”—he indicated the road behind them—“was asking? He wanted you to know he would fight for you. And he wished to know if you would have him.”
“Wait—” Summer frowned. “If he was asking—I can pick someone instead of Ar’ar?”
Ke’lar gave a g’hir nod. “Of course.”
“No wonder Ar’ar was always showing his fangs to his clanbrothers,” she murmured.
“I do not doubt it.” He gave a snort. “He was trying to warn them off from flirting with you.”
“That’s how g’hir flirt?” she asked. “Hey baby, let’s get a drink sometime and hey, mind if I beat the snot out of your mate?”
His rippled brow furrowed. “Only if the female already has a male who is mate-bonded to her.”
“What if she doesn’t?” Summer asked. “I mean, what if she’s single?”
“He would court her.”
“Court her how?”
He shrugged. “Dine with her, compliment her. Make a mating roar to her.”
“A mating roar? What’s—” She broke off, remembering Ar’ar coming at her in the snow, his roar so loud it made her ears ring. “Never mind. I think I know what it is.” She raised an eyebrow at Ke’lar. “Hey, how come you never did that for me?”
“I did not have to,” he said confidently. “You initiated our coupling.”
Summer gave a short, shocked laugh. “Oh, sure. After you were all ‘let’s lay here in bed together and just talk’!”
“I offered to sleep outside the shelter, in the cave.” He turned innocent, glowing eyes on her. “It was you who insisted I join you in the bed.”
“I insisted—?” Something in his expression caught her attention and she gaped up at him. “Oh my God, you played me, didn’t you? You made it all my idea that you sleep next to me.”
He flashed a full—and unapologetic—fanged grin. “A clever hunter knows when it is best to lure the prey rather than chase it.”
“You—!” She pushed at him in mock-outrage, and he caught her against him with a huffing laugh.
She shook head, outraged and smiling up at him.
“It worked well, I think,” he said huskily, and the softest of rumble-purrs started in his chest as he bent to bring his mouth to hers.
He froze and abruptly his purr broke off and he wrenched his face away.
Hurt slashed through her chest as he let her go and stepped back. “Ke’lar? What’s the—” She swallowed. “Right. No touching.”
“This lapse will make no difference,” he growled. “It will be dismissed, as if I had helped you when you had stumbled.”
“Yeah,” she murmured, dragging her feet as he started again toward the clanhall.
His other clanbrothers were no less astonished by the sudden appearance of a human woman in their midst. They stared at her round-eyed as she walked past but, while they returned Ke’lar’s greetings in a pretty distracted way, none sought to impede the
ir progress through the enclosure.
The closer they came to the clanhall, of course, the more clanbrothers they met. Many of them had Ke’lar’s coloring, very dark hair and blue eyes, and it was funny to think how she’d once found their alien faces so frightening. In their eyes and expressions she could read all the same emotions humans felt. Still, having dozens of strange warriors from an entirely unfamiliar clan staring at her wasn’t exactly comfortable. Just their physical presence, their size and strength, was overwhelming, let alone the way they stopped whatever it was they were doing to watch her pass.
It was very, very hard not to reach out and take Ke’lar’s hand in hers; not to seek refuge in his warm strength.
Ke’lar didn’t have to tell her which building was the clanhall. The setup here was much like the Betari’s had been. A central fountain and courtyard, the imposing multi-storied structure of the clanhall, the smaller buildings and homes that had been built out over millennia as the g’hir population grew.
The buildings here were well maintained but many of these too must be empty; there were so very many warriors and no women.
As Summer climbed the steps to the clanhall she blinked at seeing a woman waiting there—a familiar one.
A human one . . .
“Jenna,” she breathed.
“Summer?” Jenna chocolate brown eyes were wide, her g’hir clothing as girly as you could get. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it. . . Is it really you?”
Before Summer could answer, Jenna was racing down the clanhall stairs, catching her in an embrace.
“I can’t believe you’re here! I can’t believe it’s really you!” Jenna exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” Summer said, hugging her back. “Are you? Are you all right?”
Her childhood friend gave a smile but it was a strained one. “I’m fine.”
Her brown eyes darted about, taking in Summer’s and Ke’lar’s clothing, the clanbrothers watching.
“Come on, let’s—hey, how ’bout we go to the kitchens?” She tugged at Summer’s hand to draw her along. “I’ve got them making some sweet tea. I swear, girl, it tastes just like it does back home!”
“Iced tea?” Summer stared, resisting her pull. “You vanish without a trace—everyone in Brittle Bridge thinks you’re dead—then I find you on an alien planet and the first thing you want to do is skip off for some iced tea? What do you think this is, Jenna McNally—an extraterrestrial garden party?”
“Sister, your welcoming custom must wait,” Ke’lar said to Jenna, his brow furrowed. “Where is my father? And Ra’kur? I must speak to them immediately.”
Just then another warrior, taller but bearing a strong resemblance to Ke’lar, emerged from the clanhall’s vast entryway. Jenna’s glance darted fearfully that way and Summer realized this must be Ra’kur, the alien who had kidnapped her friend all those months ago.
“Ra’kur!” Ke’lar called in relief, warmth and trust in his voice at his brother’s approach. “This is Summer, of the Betari enclosure. She is in urgent need of our help.”
Ra’kur glanced between them, shock flickering across his features. “Brother—”
“Why would she have need of help from you?” Ar’ar demanded as he stepped from the shadows of the Erah clanhall into the sunlight, his fangs showing. “When her own mate is here.”
Fifteen
Ar’ar’s amber eyes were molten as they fixed on her and Summer recoiled as Mirak too emerged from the Erah clanhall to stand beside his son. Ke’lar moved to stand protectively before her even as Jenna’s grip tightened on Summer’s hand, holding her fast, keeping her from fleeing.
“Congratulations, Ra’kur, son of the Erah,” Mirak said coldly to Ke’lar’s elder brother. “I was completely fooled. You had me convinced you had no idea as to her whereabouts.”
“I did not,” Ra’kur growled. “I told you the truth when I said I had no word of her, nor sight of her.”
“And yet,” Ar’ar pointed out sharply, “here my mate stands, on the very steps of your clanhall, in the company of your own brother!”
“Ra’kur did not deceive you,” Ke’lar snapped. “I had no comm unit with me during my foresting, no way to contact my clan. He had no knowledge of this.”
Ar’ar’s fangs were fully bared. “And I am to accept your word? Trust one who would steal my mate, prey upon a female vulnerable and separated from her clan?”
“I have not stolen her!” Ke’lar insisted. “She crossed to Erah territory of her own accord.”
“Before or after we met at the border between our lands, Ke’lar, son of the Erah?” Ar’ar demanded.
Ke’lar’s lip curled. “You mean when you said you had crossed into our land in search of a ‘fugitive clanbrother’?”
Ar’ar’s gold eyes narrowed. “Would you alert an enemy that your mate was nearby, lost and defenseless?”
“Lost? Maybe.” Summer squared her shoulders and shook off Jenna’s hold to face Ar’ar. “Defenseless? Fucking never.”
“Summer,” Jenna began urgently. “Please, just let—”
“She has asked for the sanctuary of our clanhall,” Ke’lar broke in. “I have granted it.”
“Why would she be in need of sanctuary here?” Ar’ar’s gaze went to Summer and for an instant she could have sworn she had wounded him. “For what reason?”
“She has asked for sanctuary,” Ke’lar repeated, lifting his chin. “I have granted it.”
“Even if she were in need of sanctuary,” Ar’ar said sharply, “you do not have the authority to grant it.”
“But his father does, doesn’t he? So let me ask him myself.” Summer put her hands on her hips. “Unless me speaking to outsiders is a problem for you, Ar’ar? Unless you have something to hide?”
“I do not know why you thought you had need to flee me, my mate. I do not understand your anger. Tell me what distresses you when we have returned to the safety of our enclosure,” Ar’ar said, reaching for her. “I vow I will set it right.”
Summer stepped back quickly, her gaze narrowed at Ar’ar. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Ar’ar’s glance flicked to Ke’lar. “I think our enemy has poisoned your mind to me, my mate.”
“Oh, he wouldn’t need to, would he? So are you going to let me speak to the Erah clanfather? Or are you going to drag me out of here kicking and screaming and show everybody what a good mate you are?”
Their little show had drawn quite a crowd of Erah clanbrothers, grumbling among themselves about how this female was being treated, something that Ar’ar and his father couldn’t help but notice. There were even a couple of richly dressed female g’hir in the crowd. One, a young woman with the Erah black hair and blue eyes, seemed riveted by the exchange but the woman beside her, a little older, a blonde, had a look of haughty disdain to her, as if these goings-on were beneath her notice.
“My father would be pleased to speak with your mate,” Ra’kur offered. “Since she has requested it.”
Ar’ar’s jaw tightened. “And since your father has not troubled himself to step outside,” he pointed out with a caustic look at Ra’kur, “he makes it necessary that my mate enter the clanhall in order to speak with him.”
“My apologies.” Ra’kur spread his hands. “Our father is elderly.”
“But wily as ever,” Mirak muttered.
“Are you going let me speak to their clanfather?” Summer demanded. “Or are you afraid to?”
Ar’ar’s rippled brow furrowed. “I do not fear—”
“Summer of the Betari,” Ke’lar broke in, formally indicating the entrance, “in our clanfather’s name, we bid you welcome to our hall.”
“Hey, since you asked, yes,” Summer trilled loudly, already striding past Ar’ar and his father, “I’d love to come in, thanks!”
The entrance to the Erah clanhall was brighter, simpler, less ornate than the Betari’s, but lovely too and probably just as ancient.
“This way, ple
ase,” Ra’kur said, leading them into the dining hall.
An elderly g’hir seated there stood as they entered.
“A pity you were not up to joining us outside,” Mirak commented. “Feeling rested now, Rotin?”
“Yes, thank you,” the clanfather of the Erah said smoothly. His glowing, pale blue eyes turned to Summer. “And who is this?”
“As if you did not know,” Ar’ar grumbled.
“I’m Summer Mills and I am, uh”—she inclined her head like the g’hir did, trying to sound formal and respectful—“seeking sanctuary in your hall.”
“For what reason?” Rotin asked.
“Well—” She really hadn’t expected to have to give an explanation. She’d just thought she’d ask and he’d grant it. “I’m human—well, obviously—” she said in response to his faint smile. “I was kidnapped—uh, captured, from my world but I don’t want to remain on Hir. I want to go back to Earth.” She took a deep breath. “Right now.”
“I see,” Rotin said gravely. “Is this your Day of Choosing?”
“My—?” Summer’s stomach clenched. “No, that’s not for another eighteen days.”
Rotin glanced at Ar’ar. “Has your mate mistreated you?”
Summer threw her hands out in frustration. “He kidnapped me!”
“To hunt—to capture—a mate is our way.”
“I know that! But he took me from my—” Summer caught herself. “From my world. Without my permission and he refuses to let me return.”
“Until your day of choosing,” Rotin pointed out. “This is by Hir law.”
“I shouldn’t have to wait!” Summer insisted, fury making her voice rise. “I’ve made my decision—I want to go back to Earth!”
“You have that right,” the clanfather agreed. “When the moon’s cycle is complete.”
Summer gritted her teeth. What was it with these people? Did they honestly think a few days was going to make any difference? “He kept me prisoner at the Betari enclosure.”
“Prisoner!” Ar’ar’s amber eyes widened. “It is your home!”
Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3 Page 13