Chapter Twenty-Three

All thought had emptied from True’s mind, drained away in the wake of the passion. Only belonging remained, that which he’d sought every instant since returning to Barta—this sense of wholeness, of peace.

Who knew it might be like this, that two could become one flesh, creating a being so much more than either alone? Part of him still remained inside her. The miracle of that stunned him; he didn’t want to withdraw from her and cause this wondrous moment to end.

Eyes closed in fierce bliss, he licked the inside of her mouth slowly. The scent of her filled him, the taste had become part of him. He needed nothing more.

She made a small sound in the back of her throat and stroked his tongue with hers. No words were needed now. He’d already emptied his seed inside her but could feel himself growing ready to do so again.

Barta had been right—face to face, heart to heart, was much better, and one flesh best of all.

And oh, how they fit together! He flexed his hips, demonstrating to her his return to readiness, and she moaned, still while sucking on his tongue.

Receptive, yes. Fire roared through him, surpassing anything he’d ever felt as a hound.

She quickened, her inner muscles once more tensing around him. By the goddess, what a marvelous sensation! As if to some music of the gods, they began to move once more in a primal dance.

Barta loosened her grip on his hair, trailed her fingers down his back, caressing his muscles as she went, and cupped his naked buttocks. She broke the kiss to say, “Need you. Like this, just like this.”

Still devoid of words, he bunched his shoulders and dove for her breast. She arched beneath him, and her muscles began to milk him from within.

“Oh, wondrous,” she gasped in his ear when he emptied himself again. “Wondrous.”

Still unwilling to separate from her, he collapsed with his mouth beside her ear, his heart racing. “You,” he breathed, “are now well and truly bred.”

“I am, aren’t I? And glad of it.”

“Are you glad?”

“Yes.”

“Even if I have given you my…child?”

“I am glad!”

As was he. But he wondered what the goddess would make of it. This hadn’t been part of his bargain with her. He’d asked only to return to Barta, not breed her, and he could scarcely imagine such a child.

A gentle breeze stirred, drying the sweat on his back. Barta whispered, “If you want to do it the other way—from behind—I’m willing.” She rubbed her cheek against his. “I am willing to do anything you ask.”

“I am satisfied.” He made as if to withdraw from her; she clasped her palms more tightly on his buttocks, preventing him.

“No. Stay.”

Ah, a command he understood. He eased and ran his tongue along her shoulder, gathering the salt.

She laughed softly. “If you do that, I shall need you again.”

“Still. You need me still.”

“Yes.”

So she felt it too, this profound sense of joining… What could one do with such a gift but accept it? He licked her again, a slow, leisurely swipe of his tongue. “By the goddess, you taste good. As good as you smell. I want to taste you everywhere.”

“I want what you want. Have I not said so? Go ahead.”

“Are you certain?”

“I belong to you now, True.”

“No, it is I who belong to you—I always have.”

“We belong to one another, sure and strong. Can you feel the bonds?”

“Yes.”

“Unbreakable.”

That, he understood. Had he not returned to her from death because their ties endured?

“And so, True, I give my body to you along with my heart. Do as you will with it.”

“I will protect you always. Cherish you. Die in your defense if I must.”

She froze, suddenly rigid. “Why do you keep saying that? It is the last thing I want. I’ve already experienced the loss of so many beloved and could not endure it again…could not bear losing you! That is why I am glad I’ve had you this night, even if we are never to be together again.”

His heart fell. “Do you say we will not?”

“I have not decided what I should tell Brude, have I?”

True did not want her to wed with Brude, did not want any other male to touch her, ever. But it was not his place to make demands. It was his place to follow and accept what she offered him. And this night she offered herself completely.

Very gently he withdrew from her. She murmured in protest.

“But, Mistress, you have given me leave to taste you. Everywhere.”

“Oh. Even—?”

“Where we were joined.” The scent coming from there he found most arousing of all.

She sighed in complete submission. “Do as you will.”

****

“I need your answer, Barta. The tribe must regain stability. We have to make plans.”

Barta stood before Brude in the morning sunshine—a woman changed. Some fundamental need inside her had been answered and at the same time awakened. She could not think about True without desiring him and could not seem to think of anything but him. Even now, away from him for the first time since the long, deep night, her senses tracked him and the bonds between them hummed.

She regarded Brude with new calm. A man with a great heavy burden on his shoulders, she no longer wanted to battle him.

She looked him in the eye. “Something you should know before you hear my answer—I am in love with True.”

He grimaced. “You think that is a surprise to me? I’ve seen the way you look at one another. I do not care. Haven’t I said you are welcome to keep him on the side?”

“Yes.” She jerked her head up a notch. “But I tell you now fairly, he and I did lie together. I may be carrying his child.”

Rage blossomed in Brude’s eyes, a blazing wall of disparagement. He raised his arm, and for an instant Barta believed he would strike her down.

“Foolish girl! Stupid, selfish girl. Could you not control your impulses? I thought you said you’d learned something from all our losses!”

People around them stared; Brude had raised his voice along with his hand. From the corner of her eye Barta saw True materialize and approach.

I will protect you always. Cherish you. Die in your defense if I must.

Would Brude turn upon True if he tried to defend her? He seemed angry enough.

She took a careful step backward and asked, “Do you still want me for wife, in this condition?”

Brude’s face worked for a moment, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Did I not tell you to have a care over that?”

“You did—once we wed. We are not yet wed, and my body is mine to give as I will.”

“You understood my meaning and have deliberately defied me. You have not changed—perhaps you never will. You deserve a thrashing.”

“Barta?” True stepped into place at her side. He touched her arm lightly, and strength flooded through her.

“It’s all right, True.”

“ ‘True,’ ” Brude sneered once again. “What a lie of a name. He might be anything but that—any type of snake sent to suckle at our bosom.”

“I trust him completely.”

“More fool you. I do not trust him.” He intensified his glare at True. “Just so you know, incomer, there will come a reckoning between us.”

True spoke softly, yet with that ever-present growl in his voice, “There is no sense in us fighting one another when enemies lie all around.”

“Yes, and perhaps within.” Brude switched his glare back to Barta. “You did this just to defy me, did you not?”

“No.” Barta tangled her fingers with True’s. “I have told you why. He and I belong together…”

Brude virtually spat, “Well, he can have you. You are of no use to me bred by another. Stupid woman! Could you not make one sacrifice for your tribe?”

“I will make many sacrifices. Not that one.”

“Get out of my sight,” Brude barked, sounding uncannily like Radoc the night Barta had come home to admit she’d lost Loyal.

Was she truly the selfish wretch Brude insisted? Did she still think only of herself? But her heart had changed.

True tugged her fingers, and she turned away, only then noticing a small crowd had gathered around them. Folk, already shattered, stared. Had they all heard? Did they even now make judgments of her?

She caught a glimpse of Gant, his expression tight, and one of the girls who’d been tending Tally. She didn’t want word of this getting back to her young brother, who’d always looked up to her and so often taken her part.

Despair touched her heart. She followed True to the stream in silence and moved into his arms.

“True, am I the terrible person Brude accuses?”

“No.” True’s hands cradled her. She felt his lips brush her hair, weaving a spell which she tried to shrug off. She needed clarity now, if ever. Had her parents overindulged her? Given her a life of privilege? Her mother had certainly lectured and her father berated her often enough. Sudden longing filled her for her mother’s wisdom and her father’s strong guidance.

Gone now—swept away with her past life. Wick had left; she had only Tally, Gant, and this man in her arms.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and gazed into his eyes. That same wave of familiarity—for someone she could not quite place—swept over her, silent recognition so profound it left her on the very edge of realization.

“Who are you?” she breathed. “Who—?”

His lips parted. Before he could speak, someone came running; one of the girls who had been tending Tally called Barta’s name. Barta turned to see Tally struggling along in the girl’s wake, leaning on the arm of yet another girl. Tally, face pale, wore a determined look that aged him beyond his years.

Barta stood quietly until he reached them, her hand still resting on True’s arm. Why had she never before noticed how very much Tally looked like their mother? Her heart twisted in her breast.

“Tally, you should not be moving about so much.”

Grimly, he met her gaze. “It seems I must.” He jerked his head toward the encampment. “I heard about what happened back there.” The strength of iron appeared in his gray eyes. “Sister, it is time I was up on my feet. And it is time you and I together took back this tribe—on Wick’s behalf, and on Father’s.”