by Viola Grace
"You are good at this woodsman thing." It seemed odd to be talking into his ear as he walked, but he didn't seem to mind.
"My brother and I went camping at every opportunity and the woods of Morvigeth are sparse at best. You have to wonder why none of the priests noticed that the planet was dying." He had his hands on her thighs, holding her with an attention to an even grip that she admired even while it started flares of heat in her body.
There was no doubt about it--she was going into heat. This was the worst time for this sort of thing to happen. In fact, she was pretty sure that her oestrus was what the priests had been waiting for. She prayed that they couldn't track her by scent.
"Is Emicar IV different from Morvigeth?" With her breasts rubbing against his back through the cover of his shirt, she felt it necessary to distract him from the hard peaks rocking against him.
"It is bright and alive, not like this world. Morvigeth is fading as the blessing of the god has faded. If you notice, everything is green, but nothing is blooming. Lassing will not let it bloom."
"Do you only worship the one star?"
"Well, two now, though Searaline's new priestess is more interested in my brother than starting up a worshiping organization." His laugh was unmistakable. "The gods even marked them both so Lassing would not accidentally take over my body instead of my brother's."
That sounded odd to Venya. "Why?"
"My brother and I are twins and Oritia would flip out if I came to her bed instead of Jenner."
"Twins? My people believe that twins are lucky." She switched from his left to his right side so she wasn't overheating one with her soft words.
"Oh, we have luck, but it comes in waves." His hands shifted on her thighs and she blushed. "It seems to be on a bright side right now. How are you feeling?"
"I am fine. Why do you ask?"
"Well, you were kidnapped, I am assuming you were drugged, you escaped a horrible fate and now you are going into heat. You have to be disoriented."
Her whole skin heated with embarrassment. "You noticed."
"It was how I was able to track you so easily. If the priests had been interested in you as a woman and not as a sacrifice, they would have found you last night. By the way, that was an efficient shelter for a spacer."
"Thank you. I would have pushed down a tree, but someone might have noticed that. And if I climbed a tree and rolled out in the night, it would have done more harm than good."
She sniggered as he pushed his way through a set of bushes.
"What kind of talent to you exhibit?"
"Currently, it is a low-level power-sensing ability with my normal telekinetic talents on the side. The basic powers for a woman of my clan."
That actually made him stop and look over at her. "All of your females have power?"
She giggled. "Of course. We are known for our bloodlines and the power within them. My father was planning a line-up of the regular suitors that I have had over the years. Unless something else comes up, that may be his plan when I return to my people."
"Interesting. So, your folks prefer to have you mated after your first heat."
"Yes. That is the general idea in the clans. They provide the men who wish the female so that she has a large selection of men to choose from. It becomes a cross-ship event."
"A big event for the ships in your community?"
"Fairly. Not every female earns a large turnout. When she chooses, negotiations are engaged in for a bride price and she moves to the new ship."
"Your folk don't ever land?"
"No. We fly from planet to planet, hauling whatever needs to be hauled. We just stop and pick up fresh supplies and new loads when we need to. My mom comes down to have bubble baths." She chuckled.
"Fascinating. What would you think of being ground bound?" He kept a steady pace.
"It would take some getting used to, but a steady supply of fresh fruit and bread would be a good place to start."
"I will keep that in mind. It is important to learn the mating habits of other cultures." He smiled, flashing white teeth.
Her skin was still hot as she interpreted his words. His hands on her thighs shifted in less of a grip and more of a caress. A spark of irritation burned in her at the inappropriateness of the fondling. "Do you think you can save that until we get me unshackled?"
His laugh startled the animals in a field into looking their way. Within a few strides, they had gone from the forest to the open farmland.
The grazing beasts scattered as Morrer kept walking with her wrapped around him. "Where are we going?"
"To the iron monger's. There is one in every rural village and he may be able to get you out of those shackles."
"Good. They are not my favourite accessory." She was tired, his gait on the even ground was soothing and she was almost sliding off his back with fatigue. Venya could only imagine what he was going through.
* * * *
Her weight on his back was beyond distracting. Morrer could feel her heat in every nerve of his body. Venya's breasts were rubbing against his back and none of the methods he had used to distract himself was working. His cock was so hard, he was stepping carefully to minimise shifting pressure on his groin.
The sight of the village was welcome and he shifted his grip on her thighs again to keep her in place. She seemed to be listing to the left.
The village wasn't bustling, but friendly faces greeted them when he approached the market place.
"Excuse me, could you direct me to the iron monger?" he asked a group of women who were talking outside a small café.
"Is the lady not feeling well?" An older woman looked at his left shoulder with concern.
"She will feel better when we chip off the shackles." He smiled and tried to put warmth into his gaze. He knew that the black eyes were not the norm on Morvigeth, but they were all he had.
She gestured to the corner where smoke was emanating from the roof. "Sorrel will help you. Congratulations on her escape, by the way."
He blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"She is wearing your clothing, has raw feet and shackles. She escaped from the priests, didn't she?" The woman tugged him by the arm and led him down the street.
He didn't need to answer. Bemused, he followed the elderly woman down the lane to the forge.
She called out, "Sorrel! Get out here! Sorrel!"
A tall man with burnished blue-bronze skin came out. "What is it, Gran?"
"This man's lady needs your help. Crack those cuffs off, would you, dear?" The woman leaned up and patted the smith on the cheek.
"Of course. Come this way." He waved them into the hot confines of his forge.
Venya slumped heavily on Morrer's shoulder. He eased her off his back and held her in his arms while Sorrel got his hammers together.
"Venya, wake up." He shook her lightly, regretting that he had to wake her.
Sorrel was watching her with rapt attention and Morrer fought the urge to snarl at the other man. The scent of her heat was becoming less of a tease and more intoxicating with every passing minute, whether she was conscious or not.
She opened sleepy eyes and looked up at him, "Are we there yet?"
"Yes. Now follow this man's instructions and you can get those cuffs off."
"Okay." Her dark rainbow gaze was similar to her mother's, but it had a softer glow, a kinder glow.
Smiling softly, she extended her hands to Sorrel and he placed them on the anvil. Morrer fought another snarl. He braced her wrists and nodded for the smith to bring the hammer down.
Chapter Four
The clang of the hammer brought Venya wide awake. She fought the urge to jerk her hands back, not that she could with the living manacles that were Morrer's hands holding her still.
The smith struck again and the second manacle cracked open.
She smiled weakly. "Thank you. Those were really annoying."
Morrer hissed and turned to the woman standing next to them. "Do you have a he
aler or an herbalist?"
The woman looked at her wrists and winced. "Of course. My name is Lorlie, by the way. Elder of this village. Please, come with me."
Venya winced as she got to her feet. Her wrists may have looked like raw meat, but the soreness in her feet confirmed that they were still in rougher shape.
"Morrer, could you help me to the healer, please?"
The smith stood up and Venya could swear she saw his muscles flexing. "I could help you, miss."
Morrer picked her up, "I will handle this, Sorrel. Thank you for your offer, but she is coming with me."
Sorrel was still flexing for her, Venya was sure of it. He was blond, had a mass of bronze-blue muscles that made Morrer look like an average male and eyes that were a delightful shade of violet.
She closed her eyes and blushed again. Her heat was progressing quickly if she was catching the attention of strange males.
Morrer followed the older woman out of the smithy and down the street to the healer's home. She knocked on the door and greeted the young man warmly. "Roroth, I have a young lady here in need of your treatment."
Venya waved and the man's violet eyes widened. "Come in, that must be painful."
She chuckled when Morrer snarled, typical Hashka male when there was a bid for his female's affections. It was funny how riding a man for a few hours endeared him to her.
She was carried to a bed at Roroth's urging. Morrer sat her down and removed the pack from her back, smoothing her hair as he helped her lie down. "Check her feet as well. I believe they suffered some severe damage."
"I will do a thorough examination." Roroth nodded and elbowed her escort away. "What is your name, miss?"
"Venya. Do all the men here have such pretty eyes, or is it just you and the smithy?"
Roroth prepared a basin of water and started to wash her hands and wrists. "Lorlie is our grandmother. Our grandfather had eyes this colour and now all of her grandchildren have the same trait."
"It's very pretty."
Morrer growled.
"Your eyes are pretty, too, Morrer. Just in a different way." She bit her lip as the gentle cleansing removed flakes of rust from her wrist.
"Thank you for that."
"You are welcome." She smiled, but it was hard to fight the pain of the cleaning.
Venya closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the pain wash over her in waves. She embraced feeling safe and cared for, knowing that her wounds would be tended.
"So, Morrer, what comes next?" She tried to hold still as Roroth tended her, but she was increasingly aware of the slow caresses that accompanied the medical attention.
Morrer began to work on her feet. The slow strokes of his hands on her bruised soles sent shivers through her. When her feet were clean, Roroth gave him an unguent to slather on her soles.
She was perfectly content to lie there, but as she started to relax into his ministrations, he slid his fingers between her toes. The shock of sensual reaction had her arching on the bed, as an arrow of excitation ran from her toes, up her leg and into her womb, making her clench in response.
She squeaked and jerked her foot from Morrer's grip.
He sat looking up at her with a gaze tinged with astonishment. "Your feet?"
She warmed under the eyes of those watching her. "Sorry. I would say I am ticklish, but I don't think you would believe it."
Morrer chuckled and continued to spread the ointment on her skin.
Roroth seemed disappointed that it hadn't been him to find her sensitive spot.
With one arm bandaged, she let Roroth take care of the other while she fought the ticklish and arousing touch on her feet.
Venya mentally cursed. Why did it have to be feet? For all of the parts of my body that could be sensitive to a lover's touch, why did it have to be my feet?
She groaned and as the pain disappeared from her consciousness, so did her hold on her alert state.
* * * *
Morrer lightly wrapped her feet and looked at the healer. The man was looking at the woman in the bedding as if she was the last piece of food on Morvigeth.
"She isn't yours. She is meant for me." Morrer's quiet voice sent a wave of warning to the other man.
"It is her choice." Roroth scowled and turned to challenge the other man.
"It is the choice of the gods. If the stars will it, she will be theirs."
The healer kept up his frown. "You will not take her back to the priests."
"No. I will not, but I am Lassing's emissary and he wants her for his purposes. What those are is anyone's guess, but I can promise you, she will not lose her life in the process."
"The stars have abandoned us."
"They turned their backs on the priesthood, not the people. Life still grows. It just doesn't flourish. They will return when the priesthood changes to standard practices that encourage life and not death."
Morrer was bristling with hostility and ruefully had to admit that his body was claiming hers without his mind being involved. Even Lassing hadn't weighed in on his attraction and, considering the star was exceptionally chatty on this journey, that in itself was rather odd.
Lorlie looked at both of them and scowled. "She needs rest. Take this outside while I bathe her."
"Yes, Grandmother. Don't dislodge her wrapping."
"Roroth, don't forget who taught you the basics. Now, go and settle this. Invite Sorrel as well, he seemed rather struck by this young woman."
Roroth rolled his eyes, but nodded as he led Morrer to the door.
Morrer fought irritation when Sorrel was waiting outside for them.
"How is she?"
Roroth grimaced. "She will be fine. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to speak to her." He bunched his muscles and even Morrer's jealous eyes had to admit he was the most impressive male in their gathering.
"She is sleeping. Let's take this to the café and discuss matters."
Morrer felt power creep through him. "It is not necessary. The woman belongs to the goddess Searaline and only my emissary will have her." Lassing's power flowed through him and Morrer knew that his eyes had taken on the god's golden glow.
"I don't understand. Who are you?"
"I am Lassing and this is my vessel. He is helping to get Morvigeth back on track and to do so, we need the woman. He will have to win her affections on his own, but I will not have anyone interfere with his efforts."
The god touched each of the men gently and they both fell to their knees. "Do you understand?"
"We understand." The men shook their heads and got to their feet. Each pressed a hand to his forehead and Morrer felt a sympathetic twinge.
"I will go in search of clothing for Venya. She looks good in my shirt, but I might need it back. Do you have any idea where I could get something for her?"
Roroth ran his hand through his hair. "I will return to make sure that our grandmother isn't trying to lure her to our side. I don't relish the thought of Lassing running through my mind again."
Sorrel kept one hand pressed to his forehead as he nodded to Morrer. "I will take you to the seamstress. She should have something suitable."
"Thank you. Under other circumstances, I would have welcomed the challenge, but the star will have what is in his design. I have as much choice as you do in the matter." He smiled and clapped the smithy on the shoulder.
"You don't want her?" Sorrel seemed surprised.
"Oh, I do. But the star wants her as well and that leads me into confusion." His honesty surprised even him, but his reaction to Venya was unmistakable. He wanted her as his own, but he didn't know how she would feel about that. As insistent as Lassing was being, she was not going to be given much of a choice when it came to him either. That fact was going to colour his dealings with her for the next few days.
"We had better pick up what you want for her and get back quickly. Roroth has women fall in love with him regularly when he is the first thing that they see upon waking."
A sna
rl formed in his throat, but Sorrel hauled him along. "The faster you get her clothing, the faster you will return to her side."
"I had better be the only one at her side."
Chapter Five
Scents woke Venya from a comfortable and restful sleep. She opened her eyes and saw an attentive Morrer sitting on the edge of her bed with a platter of fruit and fabric draped over one arm.
"I have a glass of water, some fresh fruit and a dress and boots for you, Venya. Do you need help sitting up?" He offered his hand and she took it to haul herself into a sitting position.
"Thank you." Her voice was hoarse, but the pounding ache in her feet was now a dull hum, any improvement was a good thing.
He placed the platter across her thighs and explained the fruits of Morvigeth to her. She tasted each small slice with curiosity, memorizing which she liked, which were too acidic and which were perfect in every way. The water cleansed her pallet between samples.
Morrer sat and removed plates as she finished them. Lorlie entered the room with some bread and cheese. "Roroth's eye will be fine, Morrer."
"Good. I am sorry to return his hospitality with that disagreement, but he should not have tried what he did."
With her mouth full, Venya could only look from one to the other in confusion. She swallowed quickly and asked, "What did I miss?"
"Roroth was attempting to make a move on you. He was stripped to the waist, sitting next to your bed." Morrer's dark eyes were narrowed with irritation.
"Much as you are." She smiled. Males fighting over females on board ships were more common than most folks would think. Her family didn't advertise it, but the women of her clan often stirred others to spill blood when they went into heat. Jorila had explained that it had something to do with the level of power. The stronger the woman, the greater the competition for her.
Her father had been preparing for this day for years and now he was far away and she was facing her first heat without a family to protect her. Morrer was going to try, but he was more threat than comfort. The warming of her blood as she just met his gaze for a moment was more than enough to convince her that she was interested in him as more than just a means to escape the priesthood.