Now he stood in front of a creature that should be several hundred leagues away.
“How is it possible that it can track in daylight?” RuArk wondered aloud, his voice a tight hiss as he slowly paced in front of the spitting, angry creature that bared its fangs as it tried to keep itself covered.
Dalmore yanked back the hood and snatched a dirty, but sturdy, formerly white piece of cloth from around its eyes and handed it to RuArk. The creature howled as its skin quickly reacted to the rays of the afternoon sun.
“It used this to shield its eyes. The filth says it can travel during the day if it stays out of direct sunlight and keeps itself well covered. It had no wish to be seen, let alone captured, but its covering was not sufficient. It sought shelter beneath the trees and became separated from its pack.”
Noman weren’t the smartest creatures in the world. Brilliant, nocturnal pack hunters, but their intellectual pursuits ended there. They simply weren’t interested in anything other than the thrill of the hunt and the taste of blood mingled with sex.
“When are the other scouts due back?”
A voice rang across the clearing. “We are here, Wind Storm.”
RuArk turned to see several seasoned warriors melt through the trees so silently not even the leaves stirred beneath their boots.
Getting straight to the matter, RuArk asked pointedly, “Osgar, how many?”
“No more than ten. We wanted to engage them, but did not wish to give away our position. It would hardly have been a worthy fight anyway.” He was a tall, bulky giant with a permanent stern expression and a black-as-midnight fall of white streaked hair. “Our six against their ten? They would have shed tears about how unfair it was.”
They got a good laugh out of that, but it didn’t last long. They despised Noman. Vile, inhuman blood drinkers. And tracking his woman? RuArk had been concerned before. Now, he was downright angry. All of them were.
“How long did you track them?” RuArk asked.
“We came upon them yesterday afternoon. Tracked them until a few hours before dawn.”
“Yesterday afternoon? What did they do once the sun began to set?” RuArk asked.
“They kept watch. Never left their positions, not even to hunt. They did not approach the lady, Rhia, in any way,” Osgar said.
Noman that sat and watched their blood prey rather than eat it?
Turning to the young warrior, RuArk instructed, “I want to know why they are tracking her, Dalmore. For now, this one lives.” He nodded toward the bundle of flesh trembling on the ground at his feet. “I want answers. Until I have them, it travels with us. Sharyn, you take a team and watch over Rhia for now.”
Sharyn nodded, silently pointed out eight warriors, and departed without a word.
“Osgar, take your team, find the rest of this one’s pack and draw them away from my mate. They cease breathing. Today. Track after us and catch up by nightfall.”
RuArk left the knoll and headed back to his tent, swearing to himself and the Ancestors that by this evening, this cat and mouse game he played with Rhia was over.
Chapter Fourteen
Chuckling under her breath at Brita’s disdain for the great outdoors, Rhia left the other woman in the clearing. She enjoyed her huge bathing tub and big comfy bed as much as the next woman, but she’d always held a fondness for being out where she could see, smell and touch nature. She felt as if she were part of, and connected to the flowers, the wind, even the sky. When laying under the stars she could swear she heard the earth sing to her, lulling her softly to peace.
And a little peace was just what she’d needed, though the answer it brought wasn’t exactly the one she wanted.
Thinking back on the questions Joan had asked her before she’d left the High City, Rhia mumbled to herself, pulling her brows down into a frown so deep she felt the beginnings of a headache.
“Can you handle a man you can’t run over?” she mimicked in a high, totally non-Joan-like voice. But now she realized she’d been more upset by the fact that she couldn’t answer the question, than by the question itself. In fact, Joan had been right about one thing—Rhia had waited for the right man to come along forever. Now he’d appeared, larger than life, and suddenly she wasn’t sure what she truly wanted anymore.
Perhaps because she’d always expected to marry someone from her own province? Being only half-Draeman had never mattered until now because life as the First Heir to her province was all she knew. Draema was all about position in the various Societies. Rank and status was all.
A Draeman husband would expect her to continue to live her life as she always had, even keep her own separate apartments in her father’s home if she wanted... with the added benefit of sex on demand, of course. She didn’t know what to expect from RuArk. Perhaps he’d want her to be glued to his hip? Then again, what if once he got to know her, he decided that leaving her to herself was better than spending time with her?
Rhia’s gut clenched at the thought. Rejection was a dry, bitter pill to swallow, and even harder to choke down if it came from someone you actually cared about. It was something she had plenty of firsthand experience with.
She’d never run from a challenge before, but then again, she’d never had a challenge where she didn’t know the rules or her teammates. As a realist, she knew that constantly fighting her marriage would get her nowhere but miserable fast. But as a soldier, how did she not fight when it was all she knew how to do? The female side wanted nothing more than to fall for RuArk, to simply let her guard down and let him in.
Nah.
Well... maybe.
Hell, she had no idea.
Either way, the feeling that her time away from RuArk was running out had grown with each mile she’d put between herself and the High City.
Still, five more days to Province Springs in Draema Neine, if she’d calculated correctly. The image of Brita throwing rocks at her, with her skin flushed an alarming hue, while her hair stood on end flashed behind Rhia’s eyes. In the midst of her inner turmoil, the thought brought a smile to her face.
She passed through a tall stand of trees and knelt at a gurgling stream so clear that several small schools of little fluorescent fish could be seen swimming along with the current as it ran swiftly over piles of huge rocks. Should be just the thing for drinking. Squatting, she washed her hands in the chilly flow before cupping them to take a taste.
Whew, this is cold.
But it was also sweet and refreshing, a welcome treat after a long, hard day of riding without the benefit of the cooler pack she’d chosen to leave at home.
After a few moments of breathing in clean, cool air, Rhia stood.
Time to get back to my grumpy companion.
As she turned toward the campsite, the fine hairs on the back of her neck kicked into a dance. Keeping her movements easy and relaxed, she eased her hand toward the blade strapped low on her hip. She heard only the typical sounds of the forest, saw only the shadows caused by the sinking sun. But her eyes and ears deceived her. Something was there. She could feel it.
Definitely time to go.
Rhia took a single step back toward the stream and walked into a long, very sharp blade as it made contact with her neck just beneath the jawbone.
◊ ◊ ◊
“So, my mate is found?”
The second she heard that voice, Rhia didn’t move a muscle, except for the sharp pink one in her mouth.
“I was never lost. And just how did you catch up so quickly? You’re not supposed to be here, blast it.”
“Neither are you.” RuArk removed his sword from the furiously pulsing vein in her neck. The sharp point sank into the mossy ground with a quiet schnick as he leaned on the pommel.
“I was going where I’m supposed to go.”
“Without the protection or permission of the man you belong to?”
“I belong to no one,” she ground out as a single finger stabbed at the middle of his chest. She seemed to like poking that par
ticular spot.
Unmoved, he said, “Do you not, Rhia? Just as I belong to you?”
Her eyes widened as her head tilted to the side. Ah, this must be one of those Gaian things she’d never learned, where mates were a part of each other—two wholes that made an even stronger, larger entity, and accountable to one another.
Since her mouth wasn’t moving, perhaps the woman was so surprised by his statement her tongue glued itself to the roof of her mouth while her brain sought something to say.
“You’re talking old fashioned, RuArk. Um, so I guess you’re pretty pissed.”
RuArk bit back a grin, but said nothing more. His anger at her reckless behavior had melted the moment he saw her safely drinking at the stream. Stabbing fear for her safety was replaced by plain and simple need. His arm shot out, grabbed her around the wrist and pulled her to him. The moment her body touched his, chest to chest, the desire to touch, to know she was truly whole morphed into the need to taste.
A flare of concern filled him when she went limp.
“Rhia? Are you ill? Are you injured? What is...?”
A foot hooked behind his ankle as Rhia gripped his cloak, yanked him forward, then gave a small shove back. He went down like a piece of falling timber. It would have worked beautifully if he’d released his grip on her wrist. Instead, she went down with him, causing the air to whoosh from both of them. With a sigh, he unwrapped their limbs and pushed to his feet.
“I did not come here to fight with you Rhia, but since that is all that is ever on your mind, let us do it and get it over with.” Exhilaration swirled through and around him as his cloak and overcloak landed in a heap, along with scabbard and all manner of hidden daggers and blades. Meanwhile, leaning against one of the many towering tree trunks, Rhia crossed her arms over her chest and put on what must be her negotiator’s face. Then, the expression slipped as she spoke.
“You are just so damned pretty to look at,” she said. “Damn, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Satisfaction bloomed in his chest. Pride in the fact that she truly found him attractive joined the excitement of moving to the next level with his stubborn mate.
“Uh, I mean what do you want if you win?” she asked, her voice as steady as the tree she leaned against, but a deep blush gave her away.
“If I win?” His hearty laughter was rewarded with a cat-eyed glower. He had no intention of losing this round of what was sure to be the first of many challenges between them. Though she deserved to be punished for running, his admiration for the woman kicked up a notch. “You are the first woman I have ever wanted who has such a stout heart. You have proven to be quite resourceful. However, I am not pleased with how you have chosen to use that resourcefulness.”
A tangle of emotion skipped across Rhia’s face. Was it anger or wonder? He couldn’t tell, not yet. But from this day forward every moment he could spare would be spent getting to know her... In every way possible. And Gods, he so looked forward to it. That last thought had the blood thickening in his veins and quickly heading South. No, he could not stay on that path or the fight would be over before it began. An erection made sparring incredibly difficult.
Finally, she said, “Wait. If I’m the first woman you’ve wanted with heart—and who’s to say you really want me at all—then does that mean you don’t want...”
Her words skidded to a halt, and so did his anger. She wasn’t just being difficult. Rhia honestly thought he had someone else in his heart?
“Don’t want who?” he asked.
“Never mind,” she mumbled. Looking away quickly she found an interesting spot to study on one of the rocks near the water’s edge.
“Who, Rhia? I don’t want who?” he pressed. No answer. His mind took a quick spin through his time in Draema Proper and at the Citadel she called home. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of a single female that he’d paid any attention to, other than her.
“Rhia?” he asked again. She glared, but still said nothing. Fine. Time to get on with this. “My terms are when I win, you will stop fighting me. Go where I go, sleep where I sleep, stay at my side unless I say otherwise. And most importantly, you will do what I ask when I ask.”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“I do believe so,” he muttered. “Consider it a learning time. You choose how long. After that you are free to live the normal life of any Gaian woman, though I honestly hope you choose not to.”
“That’s an awful lot to expect, big guy. I guess I’ll just have to whip your ass.” Her lips pressed into a grim line as her cloak hit the ground, but she didn’t draw her blade.
Shoulders squared, her lovely face full of determination laced with caution, his little soldier had a few terms of her own.
Big surprise there.
“If I win, I want to go home to Draema Proper, back to the High City. Alone.”
“Not possible. We’re mated, Rhia. The fact that we have not shared sex makes no difference. Besides, we both know that you don’t want me to lose this challenge. You are known for your honesty. Be honest with me, and with yourself.”
He wanted to reach out and rub his thumb along her bottom lip as her mouth pressed into a thin line. She was adorably flustered. Waiting patiently, he wondered which choice she’d take—lie, or come out swinging from the corner he’d just backed her into.
“All right, fine. I’m ridiculously attracted to you, but I want you on my terms. Mine. I don’t appreciate having no say in the matter, regardless of how perfect my new husband might be.”
RuArk resisted the urge to tilt his head to the side in question. Did she really think he was perfect? Rather than asking, he clamped his own lips tight, determined not to interrupt her.
“I didn’t even have a minute to think about marriage. Yes, I know taking off was wrong, but I needed some space, some time to think. And yes, I needed to think about how to challenge you. It’s a matter of honor for me.”
Honor? Now that was something he understood perfectly.
“I am giving you a way to learn who I am by being by my side while still satisfying your honor when you lose.” He took a step forward, lightly stroked a long finger up the smooth skin of her arm and watched a trail of goosebumps rise.
The sincerity of her words combined with one little touch was like lighting a stack of dry brush, then slowly adding larger and larger pieces of cured wood. Just like that, he was on fire. Gods, he wanted her.
Another step closer. Her eyes widened as he spoke in a deep voice that sounded strained even to his own ears.
“I saw you in a Seeking before I returned to the High City. My spirit and the magic in our blood recognized you as mine. Not only in the Seeking, but the moment I saw you that first night in the tower. Even while you ripped me to shreds with your tongue, I knew you were mine. Your father had his reasons for calling me to you. He wants more than a protector for you, Rhia. He wants you to enjoy being a woman, and I am more than capable of making sure you do indeed enjoy it.”
◊ ◊ ◊
There was a profound beckoning in his dreamy grays. His voice had gone all soft and deep, making her belly quiver in response until butterflies dive-bombed the pit of her stomach. Just what she needed before a fight—a stomach full of insects on high-grade hypnotic pharmaceuticals.
She recognized the truth in his words, knowing her body reacted to the mere sight of him. Her skin tingled wherever he touched. Her blood burned and bones melted with his kisses. She’d never had this reaction to anyone. Ever. If that didn’t make her feel like his woman, she didn’t know what else could. But that wasn’t enough, was it? She could never just lay down who she’d become because it felt good. Feeling had never gotten her anywhere but a one-way trip to disappointment.
“It will be dark soon, Rhia. Let us get on with it, or do you forfeit?”
“Forfeit? In your dreams, big guy.”
“How long?”
Without hesitation she responded, “Thirty days, if I lose.”
“Choose your weapons,” he challenged with a half-grin.
“No weapons,” she countered proudly and dropped into a perfect stance of one of the old hand-to-hand combat styles lost long ago. She didn’t know of anyone in the entire Society of War that had mastered it, except herself. Adrenaline and all-out joy spiked at the thought of the coming fight. She loved sparring, was damn good at it. Hell, she’d take a good old fashioned knock-down, drag-out fist fight over a laser pistol any day.
Rhia’s confidence faltered for a moment when his body coiled into the same pose. Did RuArk really know this style? Or was he just mimicking to throw her off?
Not that it truly mattered. As soon as the fight started, it was over.
Every blow she’d attempted to land was blocked. Each strong combination was reversed until she found herself defending instead of attacking. Considering she was well-studied in martial arts, that was really saying something.
Then he’d pulled out some moves she’d never seen before. The man basically kicked her ass in less than sixty seconds.
RuArk waited patiently as she caught her breath. Hell, he wasn’t sweating or even panting. Anyone observing would assume he’d just taken a stroll through the woods while she was down and truly out for the count.
Blasted man.
“Fine. You win, RuArk. Now get off me.” Her voice quavered a bit, but she was silently relieved it was over. He’d challenged her and won, fair and square. Her pride might have just taken a beating, but a part of her, a deeply buried part, couldn’t be happier.
“Not quite yet.” Then he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her thoroughly.
The evidence of his arousal pressed into her belly and ignited a blaze in her own body so hot that the cold ground beneath her back was refreshing rather than chilling.
Breaking the kiss, he groaned against her lips. “You taste like springtime, Rhia. I believe it has become my favorite season.”
Wind and Fire Page 13