by Selena Scott
Her life with the Surgere was messy, loud, simple. And she loved it. She didn’t want a single bit of it to change. Which was why she was standing outside of Solar’s tent, wringing her hands and preparing to ask him a monumental favor.
Zara tucked her long, chestnut hair neatly behind her back and stared at the door to Solar's hut. She supposed she wasn't actually scared of him. He just threw her off. She never had her footing around him. She was always a little jumpy, a little nervous.
It hadn't always been like that. When she'd been a child, playing in the palace yard, there had been no one she’d rather have spent her time with than Solar. He'd been a teenager then, and deeply patient and indulgent with her. It would take barely more than a request from her to get him to flop down in the grass beside her to play with her dolls.
She'd wept for a month when Solar disappeared from the castle. She wouldn’t learn for years that it was because he had refused his status as a serf and servant. That he had left to lead a revolution against the king. That was about the same time that Zara had learned that she wasn't just a castle servant, that she had been selected at birth to serve as one of the king's wives. And at around twelve, she'd had to start dressing the part. The king kept his distance from her, but she was clearly still marked territory. And doomed to either bear him an heir or be executed.
The jungle air was balmy, but Zara shivered as she pulled her thin night dress tighter around her as she remembered the night that Solar had rescued her from that fate. Well. Technically it had been the revolution rescuing her. But it was Solar that Zara remembered, bursting through the roof of the castle’s great hall in his midnight blue dragon form.
At that moment, the greatest moment of her life to date, all Zara was thinking was he came back for me. She had shifted to dragon form to fly alongside him instantly. It was the easiest decision she had ever made. And Zara never regretted it for a second.
But it hadn't been like she had dreamed it would be, to see Solar again.
Gone was the goofy, amiable teenager who made silly voices for dolls and ruffled her hair. In his place was a hardened, stern leader. And gone was the easiness that Zara used to feel with him.
The second she'd been taken on by the revolution she'd felt underfoot, a burden. So she'd made herself useful. She was as good a nurse as any of the other trained dragon shifters and she pulled her weight in every other way as well. Cooking, cleaning, packing up and moving the camp whenever they had to. At first, the soldiers and workers had treated her like she was fragile, made of glass. As if she were royalty. But it didn't take long for Zara to prove she wasn't scared of hard work and couldn't be happier to be free of the royal life. Sure, her life in the castle had been opulent. Defined by gorgeous clothing and delicious meals. But she'd been a slave to the king. She was infinitely more at peace in the crude, rough and tumble camp, pulling her own weight and working hard. Living as a free and independent soul.
At this point, four years after her rescue, everyone had accepted her as a member of the revolution except for Solar. He still held her away. The laughing, gentle man he was around the campfire with the members of the Surgere didn't ever make it to Zara. With her he was always as cold as he'd been today in the clearing. Annoyed.
But that didn't matter now. She had to face him now and get a promise. Her life depended on it.
Zara straightened her shoulders and gently slid the door to his hut to one side. She was silent as she moved across his space. She’d always been able to be quiet. And she was good at hiding. At blending in. It had been her only way to protect herself from the king when she’d been trapped at the castle.
She used those skills now to melt across the floor of his hut, only the splashes of moonlight she had to step through giving her away. He lay across his cot, standard issue for members of the Surgere. Being the leader, he could have demanded something finer, more comfortable. But that wasn’t Solar’s style. He didn’t believe in being higher than anyone else. He believed, deeply, in the equality of the people.
For a moment, Zara just looked at him. Took him in. He looked so young while he slept. His dark hair tousled, and one arm flung up over his head. A single sheet was twisted across his bare chest, a concession to the heat of the jungle around them. His face was calm in repose. The severity of his typical expressions gone while he slept. Something skittered through Zara’s breath when she realized, looking down at him, that he was actually rather handsome.
Normally, she thought of him simply as severe or stern. Never handsome. But it couldn’t be denied; his strong jaw and hollowed cheeks in the shadow of the moonlight were beautiful. Even the scar that cut one eyebrow in half, ran down his cheek, looked almost elegant. His crooked nose bent the elegance toward interest instead.
It was almost a relief to look at Solar when his eyes were closed. Generally, his deep, midnight blue eyes haunted her. She found herself skittish when she was caught in their gaze. Almost as if they were searing her with their natural heat.
But there he lay, completely relaxed, looking so much like the boy who used to come down to the courtyard to push her on the swing or play hide and seek with her. She felt like she hadn’t had a glimpse of that boy in years and the sight of him had her heart clamping in her chest.
She knew she should just reach down and shake his shoulder to wake him up. She should just tell him what she needed to tell him and get the heck out of his hut. But instead she followed an impulse that rose up inside of her. And standing next to him, she gently reached down to brush the tousled hair off of his forehead.
His hair was so soft, surprisingly soft. That was the last thought she had before she was suddenly ripped off her feet and smashed down onto the floor. She saw stars as her head rapped the wooden floorboards, but it didn’t keep her from seeing the flash of steel in the moonlight as a knife sliced toward her throat.
The utter wind was knocked out of her as Solar’s full weight landed on top of her. He pinned her to the ground with his hips over hers, one forearm pressed against her chest. His other arm raised the knife to her neck. She tried to breathe but couldn’t. She was utterly compressed, not to mention completely stunned.
He breathed heavily over top of her. Zara watched as recognition, surprise, confusion, and then anger all took their turn playing across his features. The boy she’d seen while he was sleeping was once again gone, replaced with the severe, fierce man who made her feel so out of place and uncomfortable. His arm lowered the knife and his hand flattened on her chest, directly over her heart.
“Zara,” he whispered angrily. “What the hell are you doing? I could have gutted you like a pig. I was this close to murdering you!”
He waited for an answer from her, his brow furrowed and his mouth turned down into a fierce frown. But Zara could give no answer, as she had not a speck of air in her lungs and no way to gather any. She gave a slight wheeze and wiggled her hips, trying to shake him loose.
Something darkened in Solar’s eyes for just a flash before comprehension broke over his face and he instantly rolled off of her.
“God, Zara, I’m crushing you. Come here.” He scooped her up off the ground and moved to his cot as she coughed her breath back, one hand pressed to her chest.
“It’s ok,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “You’re right. That was really dumb of me. I should have knocked. I know better than to sneak up on you.”
Her breath came back, sure enough, though her head still ached. She shook it gently and reached back to feel for the knot that she knew would be growing there. His fingers instantly tangled with hers in her hair as he sought out the same thing.
“Shit,” he cursed when they both found the bump on her skull. “I really hurt you.”
“No, no.” She waved it away. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.” She turned to reassure him but lost her breath again at the concerned look in his eyes. He was never concerned about her. Annoyed? Yes. Irritated? Absolutely. But concerned? Never.
It was at that moment
that she realized how he’d sat them down. Him sitting on the cot and her spread across his lap. One of his arms wrapped around her hips like a steel band and the other hand stroked across the back of her head. Their faces were only inches apart.
Apparently, their situation became clear to him at the same time because both of his hands tightened for the flash of a second before he quickly slid her off of his lap. He stood and paced in front of her, one hand raking through his hair.
“Why are you here, Zara?” His clipped, irritated tone set her stomach roiling, but at least it was familiar. The concerned manner from a few moments ago had made her confused and unsure how to proceed.
Zara took a deep breath, arranged her night dress over her knees and crossed her hands in front of her. She tried to look him in the eye, but her eyes skittered away from his intensity. She settled for looking at his chest, but realizing it was bare, she just stared at the air over his shoulder.
“I need your help.”
He crossed his arms over his bare chest. And nodded. Zara noted the change in his manner. As the leader of the Surgere, he was used to helping people. He was comfortable with it. “With what?”
Even though she’d practiced a hundred times ever since she saw him building her hut that morning, Zara found she couldn’t quite get the words out.
“You can’t make me mate,” she blurted out.
Shock crossed Solar’s face and his hands dropped to his hips. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, with the hut and-” she cut herself off and nervously took a piece of her long hair in her hands. She played with the ends and forced herself to look at him.
“Zara, I’m making the hut to give you privacy. And to keep you from distracting the unmated Surgeres. Not to make you mate.” She couldn’t interpret the look on his face but it was so fierce that she nearly flinched.
“I’m not saying this right. Just let me-” She waved her hand in the air as if to start over. “I know that fertility huts are built for privacy for the woman who’s just become mateable.” She lowered her eyes. “But I know that they are also used to give a new… couple privacy once they’re mated.”
He said nothing, neither acknowledging nor denying that fact. So she plunged on. “And I wanted you to know that I’ll keep away from the camp if I’m causing a distraction. Or if I’m in the way. I’ll use the hut for that. But I won’t mate with any of them.”
Zara was proud that her voice didn’t quaver. But when she looked up at Solar there was a tentative sort of resignation on his face.
“Zara, I know you’ve never seen a fertility transition before, what with being sequestered at the castle, and then all of the female Surgeres already being of age.” He shifted slightly on his feet. “But you don’t really know what it’ll be like for you. You might want to mate. And the men here are certainly going to want to mate with you.”
“No,” Zara said, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “I won’t. I don’t want any of them.”
Solar shifted on his feet again. And before he answered he stalked over to the tureen of fresh water in the corner of his hut. He cupped some in his hand and drank deeply. The moonlight splashed over his back; there were more scars there than Zara had ever noticed before. But then, she couldn’t remember a time she’d been able to freely study him without his shirt on.
“You can’t know what you’ll want after you’re fertile, Zara. Besides the biological aspects of it, there’s the emotional aspects as well. You might want a mate. For the companionship. You might want to be a wife.”
“I’ve already been a wife, Solar.”
Her words cut across the room like an arrow and Solar froze. She knew that he was hearing her now. He was really listening.
“I know I’m young. But I’m not a child. I haven’t been a child since the day he made me wear that crown.” She wouldn’t speak Dalyer’s name out loud into the still of the hut air. She didn’t even like thinking it. “I’ve been a wife since I was born. And an active wife since I was twelve years old. And thank the good lord a young girl is physically unmateable until 21, so I didn’t have to carry out that particular wifely duty. But I’ll never go back there, Sol. I’ll never be lashed to a man again.”
He turned to face her now.
“I’ll never be a wife again,” her voice rang out, quiet but absolute.
Understanding crossed his face and if the expression had been laced with pity, or sympathy even, Zara wouldn’t have been able to stand it. But it wasn’t. There was only understanding there.
She continued on. “So I’ll do it. I’ll sleep out, away from the camp, alone. But only if you promise me that none of them will come to me. That I really will be alone. That I can stay here. As a Surgere, and not have to mate with anyone.”
Solar crossed the room back over to her, his expression tight and dark. In a move she didn’t expect, he sat next to her on the cot and leaned forward over his knees. He looked tired as he pulled his hand through his hair.
“It would be easier if you’d just pick one of them to mate with. The rest would leave you alone after that.” He said the words, but there was no heat behind them. Zara knew that he was barely suggesting it.
“If that is my only option, I’ll shift. I’ll leave camp and be on my own.” She looked down at her hands crossed over her lap. “Actually, I quite like this jungle. It’s my favorite place where we’ve made camp. I think I could be happy on my own here. If I went further in.”
Solar turned to face her instantly. “You’re serious. Instead of mate, you’d rather live completely on your own. In the jungle. In dragon form for the rest of your life.”
She nodded. It would make her sad to leave camp. All the campfires, the loud, principled, loyal group of Surgeres. And even sadder to leave Solar. But she would do it in a heartbeat if it meant peace from suitors. “If you can’t promise me protection, I’ll go tonight, before my fertility. So things don’t get muddled.”
Solar stared into the darkness; he seemed to be balancing something unknown in his mind. His shoulders bunched as he leaned forward onto his knees and dropped his head. Almost as if it were in defeat. “Come on,” he rose. “I’ll walk you back to the infirmary.”
“Does that mean I’m staying? That you’ll promise to protect me?”
“Yes,” he said, not bothering to look at her as he slid his hut door to one side for her. “I’m going to protect you.”
CHAPTER THREE
The following night, Solar tried not to watch Zara across the campfire. He decided he was in hell. He must have done something terrible in a past life to deserve this. Suddenly, having to watch her mate with someone else seemed like a paradise compared to what she was asking of him. To stay close to her. At all times. To keep himself in between her and any willing male. To protect and care for her body. But not to take her as his own.
He had no idea how the fuck he was going to find the reserve. The will. The strength. It had been hard enough to keep his distance these last four years. He’d had to treat her with coldness, even disdain, in order for her to stay away from him.
After they’d rescued her, she’d naturally leaned on him. He was the only one of the Surgeres that she knew personally. But even then, the temptation to lean back into her had been too tempting. He’d had to cut it off at the pass. He never acted on any warmth or attraction he felt for her. He bottled it up. The frustration of that made him curt, short, and irritated with her always. But at least that had kept her at a distance, so that he didn’t have to grapple with it every second.
But now, he was going to have to be glued to her side. For weeks, maybe months, maybe even years, depending on how long her first, most potent, fertility season lasted. He’d have to keep her close and resist her at all times. He could barely resist her when he kept her at arm’s length. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
“I suppose you should picture a suit of armor. Or an invisible force field,” the Oracle said as he sat down on a stump next to Solar and
held out a leg of lamb to him.
Solar took the food gratefully. “What?”
The Oracle nodded across the fire to Zara. “The answer to the problem you’re trying to figure out. How to keep her close but resist at the same time. Picture her behind a paper-thin force field. Or wrapped up in a suit of armor.” He studied her for a second. “But on second thought, it would be a crime to hide that bod behind a suit of armor, even mentally, so I’d go with the force field thing.”
Solar felt the food turn to dust in his mouth. For what felt like the millionth time, he snapped at the Oracle. “Will you please just shut the fuck up?”
“I just thought I’d offer some friendly advice.” The Oracle held his hands up in surrender before chomping on his own leg of lamb.
“I don’t need advice,” Solar said. He kept his eyes resolutely on the fire. What he needed was to gouge his own eyes out so he didn’t have to watch the moonlight over Zara’s hair. He didn’t let himself look at Zara again. He didn’t have to look to know how she looked in the firelight. How the firelight made her pale skin glow golden. How the dancing flames caught in her wide gray eyes and made them sparkle. How she seemed to look everyone in the eye but him. How she laughed at the jokes of his comrades. Rested her hands on their shoulders or elbows.
It was ridiculous to be jealous. He should be grateful that he made her uncomfortable. If she were sweet and warm to him the way she was to the other Surgeres, then he definitely wouldn’t be able to resist the pull she had over him. As it was, her skittish behavior suited him just fine. It just so happened to irritate the hell out of him.
Solar’s eyes narrowed as Carlos sat down next to Zara. He concentrated on the young pledge’s face instead of hers. The boy looked nervous, exhilarated to be sitting next to her. Solar watched as Carlos tipped some of the fruit from his plate onto Zara’s plate. Zara smiled up at him and popped a grape into her mouth. Both Carlos and Solar watched her chew it. They both saw the glisten of the fruit juice on her lips. Watched those plump lips curve into a smile. But the difference was that the smile was directed at Carlos. And he accepted it wholeheartedly as he sat next to her, subtly leaning his shoulder into hers as they watched the flames dance. And Solar watched from across the fire. Frustrated.