Captured: Warriors of Hir, Book 1

by Willow Danes

  “You probably had a lot of suitors, huh?” Jenna gave a short laugh. “You must have been the g’hirs’ version of Helen of Troy.”

  Si’hala’s eyebrows rose. “Helen of Troy?”

  “She was supposed to be the most beautiful woman on my world.”

  “It is a compliment then?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Jenna assured. “Nations went to war over who she would be uh—mated to. She had tons of men after her.”

  “As must you have had.”

  Jenna regarded her own reflection, her too-round face, her chocolate brown eyes and hair. “I’m actually considered pretty ordinary for a human.”

  “But your eyes are so unusual!” Si’hala exclaimed. “Russet with flecks of gold and green throughout. Such smooth, delicate features and your hair alight with a thousand strands of gold and red. Does Ra’kur not tell you how beautiful you are?”

  Jenna blinked. “He does but . . . I mean, to me my eyes are just plain brown, my hair is brown too. It has a couple highlights but nothing anyone would notice. I didn’t realize I looked any different to him than I do to myself.”

  “Well, then humans are especially lovely to us then. You look . . . almost supernatural.” The g’hir woman’s glance went over her and her mouth curved a little. “Short, mind you, but still stunning.”

  “Thanks,” Jenna said wryly. “I’m having some trouble getting used to the men staring at me.”

  “Of course they stare. They see so few females and none like you.” Si’hala tilted her head, regarding her with radiant alien eyes. “How do g’hir look to humans?”

  Jenna thought about falling backwards onto the snow the first time she saw Ra’kur, screaming as she scrambled to get away.

  “A little frightening at first,” she admitted. “You’re so different from us. The g’hir look beautiful to me now.”

  “Well, since we are so new to you I do not mind confiding that I would have once been called ordinary looking.”

  “Uh, I find that a little hard to believe.”

  Si’hala smiled and gave a half shrug. “It is all in how you value yourself, how you carry yourself. Act as if you believe you are beautiful and you are beautiful.”

  “It must be difficult in a way,” Jenna said slowly. “To be one of so few women left.”

  “At no other time in our history would I be so rare, so desired, and mostly I have enjoyed the attention.” Si’hala’s smile faded. “But my clan pushed me to start considering an alliance when I was only fourteen summers. The wealthiest and most prominent clans sent sons for my consideration. They offered bribes.” Her face clouded. “Some made threats against my enclosure if I did not choose one of their clanbrothers. I was well educated, I play a number of musical instruments, but none of that mattered. I could be dull as dirt, a talentless fool, and it would not have mattered. All of my worth lay in my appearance, my value as a fertile mate.”

  “That’s awful,” Jenna said.

  “And I was awful,” Si’hala said with a wry smile. “I was scared but I was also haughty, rude, spoiled. When Lihr came to court me I treated him terribly.” She gave a laugh. “I was obnoxious—even for me!—and one night he stood up in the middle of our evening meal and told me so. He said he had no wish to spend his life with a miserable brat like me, no matter how pretty I was, and he walked out.”

  “Wow,” Jenna said, her estimation of Lihr going up several notches. “What did you do?”

  “Well, I could not believe it! Who was this male to treat me so? But I could not stop thinking about him. To him it was not enough that I should be pretty and female. He wanted more from me, from his mate, he wanted heart and mind and”—she laughed again—“good manners! He among all of them wanted something more of me than my breeding ability, than my looks. Dozens of upon dozens of males called to me,” Si’hala smiled, “but only Lihr’s roar called to my heart.”

  “What about . . . well, children? They must be pressuring you, all g’hir women, to have as many children as they can.”

  Si’hala dropped her gaze. “Lihr tries to shield me from the worst of it, but it is always there, following me from room to room like a wraith—When will she have a child? Will she give us daughters or only sons? We have not been mates long and I am young, the doctors assure me I am fertile. The Yir hope I will bear a child to him every year.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jenna put her hand on Si’hala’s shoulder. “That’s gotta be hard.”

  Si’hala sighed. “It is the price of being a g’hir female. We are honored, cherished. We have only to stretch our fingers toward something we desire and it is ours, but the survival of our people rests on our shoulders. You are lucky, to be human.”

  “I don’t feel lucky,” Jenna said quietly. “Ra’kur and I can’t have children, not together anyway. I don’t think I even realized how much I wanted them until the doctor told us it wouldn’t be possible.” She swallowed hard. “He says he doesn’t mind, but I know he wishes it were different too.”

  “He has you,” Si’hala said. “His love for you shines in his eyes.”

  “They want to send other g’hir men to Earth,” Jenna blurted. “To my world—to find mates.”

  The g’hir woman looked sad. “I can understand that. So many are alone and will do—risk—anything to have a lifemate of their own, even a barren one.” She turned to look up at Jenna. “There are many who envy Ra’kur,” she confided quietly. “I have heard mutters that he should not have you. Some say you should be the mate of a more prominent male. Some say a contest should be held and the winner take you.”

  “But . . .” Jenna clasped her hands together. “I mean, they can’t actually take me away from him, can they?”

  Si’hala raised delicate eyebrows. “Not without killing him.”

  “Wow,” Jenna managed. “You really aren’t making me feel better here.”

  The g’hir woman was silent for a moment. “I cannot think of a way to reassure you, Jenna. I do not think any will succeed in taking you from the Erah or from Ra’kur.”

  “Sometimes I really wish I were just back home on Earth.”

  Si’hala looked crestfallen. “Is that what you want?”

  Jenna dropped her gaze to her hands. “Sometimes. But I can’t imagine living without Ra’kur.”

  “I wish I could advise you better.” She gave a wry smile. “I promise when I am not so busy being beautiful, I will endeavor to become wise. But come,” she said, standing and shaking off her doleful mood. “We will go and feast and drink icy tea and let them all look at us with admiration and we will be happy.” Si’hala gave herself a final check in the mirror and smoothed her honey blond hair. “Your Helen of Troy—she was happy, was she not?”

  “Yeah, I think you and I are probably still going to wind up better off than she did,” Jenna muttered, turning to her closet to find a dress to change into for midmeal. “Even if her face did launch a thousand ships.”

  Jenna threw Ra’kur a smile as he joined her on the balcony of their rooms later that evening. “I’ll say this for two suns—it certainly makes for an amazing sunset.”

  “Did you enjoy your visit with Si’hala?” Ra’kur asked, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

  “Yeah, she’s a hoot,” Jenna said fondly, breathing in the cool air of early evening. The Yir clan had left at mid-afternoon with an invitation for her and Ra’kur to visit their enclosure in the coming days. “Lihr is sure eager to show off their hunting lands to you.”

  “It is the way we forge friendships. To hunt and feast together.”

  “Their clan hasn’t been friends of yours before?”

  “We have never been enemies, but have not found any particular reason to ally either.” He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes. “We have more in common now that the females who will be clanmothers are friends. I think the alliance will be a strong one.”

  Three of the kitchen staff came into their quarters then, carrying trays of food.

 
“What’s all this?” Jenna asked as the men set out the dishes on the balcony’s table.

  “I thought you might prefer to have evening meal here tonight,” he said, taking her hand to lead her to the table as the men departed. “I know all the attention is uncomfortable for you.”

  “That was really thoughtful. And yes,” she agreed, sitting. “I’d be grateful for a break.”

  “What will you have?” he asked. “The braised karlet is Tharin’s particular specialty. The cali fruit is freshly picked.”

  She looked over the spread but shook her head. “You go ahead. I’m not hungry right now.”

  He gave her a curious glance. “You did not eat much at midmeal today.”

  She shrugged. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but everything here was so different, so strange, and she was more than a little homesick. The g’hir cuisine wasn’t sitting well either.

  “I’m just not used to the food here yet. I was thinking that I might head back into the kitchen in the next couple days and experiment with baking here a bit.” She gave a grin. “Maybe I could even come up with a passable cheesecake.”

  His brow creased. “Cheesecake?”

  She gave a dismissive wave. “Trust me on this one.”

  There was certainly nothing wrong with his appetite and he filled his plate twice.

  Jenna was happy with just her hot tea and the quiet. Feeling like she was constantly on-stage was wearing her out and she suddenly wondered if there was anything like coffee on this world.

  Another thing that would be worth trying to recreate.

  “You know, it’s funny.” She looked out over the forest, the warm sweet-smelling breeze ruffling her hair, leaning against the balcony railing again at meal’s end. She gave him a grin. “Seems like it was winter just a minute ago.”

  “I did not have the opportunity to show you the orchards today,” he reminded and took her hand in his. “They are in full bloom now. We will do so tomorrow if you like. And when you have seen all of our enclosure, we will travel so that you may see more of Hir. The cities and the far-flung settlements of the Pundari Mountains, the wild green oceans of the southern continents. There is so much I wish to share with you.”

  Her eyes scanned the sky, the unfamiliar stars. “When I was a kid Pap used to point out the different constellations to me and tell me their stories, the myths that went with them. Sure can’t see the Big Dipper from here. What was it like, Ra’kur?” she asked suddenly. “The other worlds that you went to?”

  He smiled a little, a faraway look in his eyes. “Some were beautiful beyond words, some terrifying. There were months where I wandered from world to world only to find them empty of intelligent life. On some populated worlds I was welcomed, attacked on others. It was an experience that did much to shape who I am now. But of all the wonders I have seen, nothing compares to you.” He swallowed. “I love you, Jenna.”

  She intertwined her fingers with his. “I love you too.”

  He caught his breath, and then the bright joy in his face faded. “You are sad when you say this.”

  “It’s just—I’ve been thinking a lot about home.” She swallowed hard. “I’ve been thinking about Pap too, about the land he left me. And about where I belong.”

  Ra’kur went very still. “You want to return to your own world.”

  “I’m human. That’s where I’m supposed to be—on Earth. That’s what I always expected. The life that I was meant to have.”

  His face worked for a moment. “Please, little bird, give me more time before you decide—”

  “I’ve already decided.” Jenna took a deep breath. “And I’m going to stay on Hir.”

  Eighteen

  “You—” His glowing eyes blinked. “You will stay?”

  “Yes.” Tears stung her eyes and she gave a watery smile. “Not exactly where I grew up thinking I’d wind up—on the other side of the damn galaxy.” She traced his jaw. “Spending my life with a man from a species I’d never even heard of. That whole thing with Mirak, just the idea of not being with you . . . It made me realize that those woods that Pap left me—that’s not home anymore. Earth isn’t home anymore. Home is with you. Home is you, Ra’kur. And you were right—we’re not going to able to be together there. So we’ll live here, on Hir.”

  He caught her hands between his. His breath released in a sudden rush and she realized he’d been holding it.

  “Thank you,” he said roughly. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” she said with a laugh.

  “I was not,” he admitted, ducking his head a little. “I was thanking the All Mother.”

  “I know you’ve been worried that I’d insist you’d take me back to Earth. That I wouldn’t make a life with you. And honestly, if there’s any way that I can go back, just for a day or so, to gather some things from the cabin, pictures and recipes, well, that would be great. I’d like to have some reminders of Pap, but he’s not there”—she touched the place over her heart—“he’s here and he always will be, just like you are. I’m not sure there was ever a question really but, truth is, you giving me the choice made it a whole lot easier to choose you.”

  He gave a faint smile. “I have feared losing you every moment since that day when you would not let me go for foodstuffs with you.”

  “Don’t remind me,” she groaned. “No more root beer floats. Or ice cream. Or pizza. Or chocolate.”

  He gave her an understanding look. “I liked chocolate.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “Me too.”

  He tilted his head. “This is why you are sad?”

  “Hey, as a baker I happen to have a deep—and very meaningful—history with chocolate,” Jenna said. “And you, Ra’kur, are the only thing in the whole universe I’d even consider giving it up for.”

  “Ah. This is an honor then?”

  “Huge honor,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Tremendous. Really.”

  “I will endeavor to be worthy of it,” he said mock-solemnly, and Jenna gasped as he unexpectedly swung her into his arms. He grinned. “And I will begin right now.”

  He was already striding toward their bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him. In the next moment he laid her on the softness of the big bed and was sliding his hands up the sides of her thighs, the silky fabric of her skirt bunching up to her hips.

  “I have been thinking,” he murmured, his eyes hot on her center as he eased her panties down.

  “About what?” she asked with a playful smirk as his clothes came off, his cock already at full stand.

  Naked now, he knelt between her legs. His fingers ran from her inner thigh to her knee, then he cupped the back of her leg, holding her open.

  “About how to show you that you will never, never,” he murmured, his rumble purr starting as he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the inside of her thigh, “wear me out.”

  He kissed his way up her thigh and then the moist heat of his mouth closed over her clit, the vibration of his rumbling increasing the sensation of his lips and tongue against her a hundred-fold.

  Jenna’s mouth parted under the onslaught of pleasure, her fingers threading through his hair as his rumbling deepened. She gasped as her climax hit hard but neither his rumble nor his mouth stopped.

  The sensation was almost too much. She pushed away a little but just that slight change in position was enough to having her coming again.

  Her body felt limp and heavy as he pressed one last feather-light kiss at her center.

  “I want to see all of you.” He was poised over her, his eyes shining as he undid the fastenings of her dress. “I want to know you are mine.”

  She shifted to help as he lifted the dress over her head. His gaze ran over her and his eyes softened.

  He moved over her, his hard cock at her center, and he shut his eyes halfway, rumbling as he sank into her folds. He nuzzled her neck as he moved inside her, his body arched over hers as he plunged, driving himself deeper a
s his speed quickened against her.

  Jenna wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing in the cinnamon-like scent of him, crying out as he brought her to climax again. His eyes shut and he stiffened, a fine tremble running through him as he came.

  Still breathing hard he nuzzled against her, dropping kisses to her cheeks, brushing his nose against hers before shifting to lie beside her.

  “You are so soft, so very warm,” he murmured, settling against her, skin to skin, wrapping her in his embrace. “My Jenna.”

  “Actually,” she said lightly, reaching to pull the quilt up, “I wouldn’t mind a bit more covers.” She shivered and pressed closer to him. “Sure doesn’t feel like spring now.”

  “You are so warm.” He was silent for a moment. “You always feel cool to me.”

  With a swiftness that made her gasp Ra’kur caught her wrist, turning her arm to examine her skin.

  “What?” Jenna asked, frowning. “What’s the matter?”

  He didn’t answer, staring at her forearm, and she saw it then, faint splotches forming on the inside of her arm.

  “Huh.” She looked closer at the raised red marks marring her skin. “Kinda looks like the start of poison ivy. I must be allergic to something here. ”

  “Not hungry. Fever. Blood rash . . .” His head came up, his glowing gaze wild. “The Scourge.”

  Nineteen

  “I’m not—” She shook her head. “I mean, I’ve been a little tired but—”

  She was frightened, reaching to him for reassurance, and he clasped her slender, delicate hand in his, no longer cool to him at all.

  Her fever is rising!

  “Ra’kur?”

  “The hospital,” he said hoarsely.

  He quickly tucked the blankets around her. Already he could see the rash spreading, the splotches marring her fine skin, the blood rash that would soon cover her body even as her organs shut down—

  “I will go tell them to ready the transport; we must leave for the capital immediately. They will help you there.” Ra’kur’s heart hammered in his chest as he threw on his clothes. “You are very strong, the doctors said so. They all said so.”