“You endanger yourself, dhjan A’Ran.”
A’Ran tested his injured shoulder. It would heal once he reached the main craft with the help of the medical unit but was useless in the meantime.
“A leader is a warrior first,” he replied. “We have taken the land advantage, which is all that matters.”
He stood in the confined main deck of the transport craft after his own craft had been disabled in an ambush. He preferred land wars to the space wars and had been returning to the main craft when the ambush occurred. He sat in the only seat in the tiny craft, studying Ne’Rin, who transmitted from A’Ran’s battle command center on the moon that was his interim home. He’d chosen to leave Ne’Rin on the moon this trip. If what Jetr suspected were true, Ne’Rin would do less damage if he didn’t know what A’Ran did while away.
“The Council contacted me,” A’Ran said.
“They weren’t pleased with your message about Qatwal,” Ne’Rin assessed.
“They have no means to control me, which makes them less lazy than they have been for a millennium.”
“How have they decided to react to your freedom?”
“How do you think? By threatening me, by condemning me, and finally, by seeking a discreet audience with me.” A’Ran let a rare, mirthless smile cross his features.
“Their support can be won,” Ne’Rin said in satisfaction.
“We will meet them soon at our temporary home. I have warned them I no longer play their games.”
“They may find a way to temper Anshan’s defiance.”
“For their support against our enemy? I will owe them my life,” A’Ran said.
“We may not need the Council’s support if you maintain as you have,” Ne’Rin replied. “They need our ore more than we need them. We can risk their anger. Do you need me to write any new battle plans?”
A’Ran was silent, studying Ne’Rin. For over a week, he’d hoped his instincts to be wrong. He’d hoped Ne’Rin to be the one sending him daily updates to the battle strategies and plans. His trusted advisor had never done so before, but A’Ran hadn’t thought any member of his household capable of the complexities of battle planning. In the past three days, he hadn’t made a single change before releasing the plans to his battle commanders.
Somehow, he had known the plans weren’t Ne’Rin’s. They were too … different, too unlike the tactics and war planning taught by Anshan or anyone in the Five Galaxies. Over a period of a week, the tactics had gone from infantile to novice to advanced, as if someone were learning the intricacies of battle planning. Some plans he couldn’t use for lack of manpower, timing constraints, or other battle-related reasons, but some were brilliant. Given his experience and lauding as one of the most capable strategic battle planners in the Five Galaxies—the only reason he hadn’t been driven out by the Yirkin despite his tiny army—he found himself learning a tidbit here and there. And he was impressed. He wondered if all women from his lifemate's planet had such a skill.
“No,” he said at last. “You’ve not mentioned nishani.”
“She is well,” Ne’Rin said with shortness. A’Ran waited. If that were the best Ne’Rin could say of the difficult woman …
She should have settled by this point, adopted her role and been properly behaved. She apparently wasn’t, and it made him uneasy. He didn’t need his people to see someone quite so … unusual. Their confidence in him would fall further.
“She’s been … training with the boys,” Ne’Rin said at the long silence.
“Training?” he echoed.
“Swords.”
“Women are forbidden to fight.” Even as he said it, he knew he was contradicting himself. He hadn’t stopped her yet from creating battle plans. Swords, however, were different. The chance for physical harm was too great.
“Your sisters do not possess the temperament needed to deal with her,” Ne’Rin said frankly.
A’Ran listened. He intended for the problem to right itself in his absence, once she adjusted. If his sisters could not handle nishani, he must.
“You have direction?” Ne’Rin asked.
“I will handle her upon my return,” he said.
“Yes, dhjan. When will you return to meet the Council here?”
“In two days’ time. I have matters to settle first.”
“We will make preparations,” Ne’Rin said.
A’Ran reached forward to sever the connection. Ne’Rin’s face disappeared from the screen. He relaxed and tested the muscles of his arm again, dissatisfied with being injured.
Nishani. Kiera. He could think of one solution to his problem, and his jaw clenched. He altered the course of his tiny craft for Qatwal.
He traveled for a day and slid beneath the radars of Qatwal easily, having stolen the codes needed to jam their tracking systems during one of his scuffles with Kisolm. He landed outside the main city, in the center of which sat the royal family’s residence. Waiting until nightfall, he changed into clothing more suited for the Qatwali society and covered his face with a hood to creep into the city.
Evelyn sat at the window seat, gazing at the dark sky as she had every night since Kiera disappeared. One hand rested on her expanding stomach. She tugged gently on the moon dangling from the necklace Kiera gave her for her wedding. She relaxed after a nice, long soak in the bathtub, her thoughts wandering among the stars.
Suns, she corrected herself with a small smile. They didn’t call the distant suns stars in Qatwal. One of those distant suns was hers, and maybe, one of those distant suns might be Kiera’s.
Evelyn’s smile faded. She had already declared her intention of naming the babe Kiera whether it was a boy or girl. Her days were long but peaceful, wrought with duty and rest. It was a good, perfect little life, so much more than she ever expected, with the exception that her best friend in the universe—Kiera—might as well have been dead to her as far as Romas and his clan were concerned.
Evelyn had little regret for her actions in life, even those she probably should have. Bringing Kiera here was her one mistake. Even after a month she couldn’t go a night without thinking of her friend. She sighed, ready for bed, and twisted to swing her legs from the bench. A shape in the corner drew her attention, and she gasped.
The man was as huge as any warrior but not fair like Romas’s clan members. He was tall and fierce, standing so still she thought herself dreaming up a hero worthy of a nightmare. Dressed in dark clothes with dark hair and olive skin with a dark stare, he was both riveting and frightening.
“You!” she exclaimed as she recognized him.
He strode forward, and she moved to place a table between them. She interacted daily with the warrior members of her husband's family, but she’d never seen one quite like this, with soulful, ancient intelligence in his black gaze and a predatory walk. Her first thought was that he had kidnapped Kiera and was now returning to take her.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, reaching for the communications access pad on the table.
“No.” His single word was sharp enough to make her jerk. Her hand wavered. He stopped at the opposite side of the table, within reach if he chose, which she suspected he would if she so much as flinched toward the access pad. Her hand dropped to her side, fingernails digging into the meat of her palms.
“What have you done with Kiera?”
The intruder remained silent for a moment then said slowly, “Your sister is well.”
The simple assertion was a waterfall after a month without a drop of information about her. Evelyn searched his face. “Oh, God ! You’ve seen her! If you’ve hurt her, you sick son—”
“She is well,” he repeated. “Nishani is well.”
“Nishani?” The word made her do a double-take. “Nishani?” Kiera would never agree to marry someone in so short of a time, but to agree in any amount of time to a man as lethal in appearance as this? “You haven’t hurt her?” she pressed. “Where is she? Is she here? What have you done with her? Why did—”
He held up a hand to silence her, and she waited, circling the table to face him.
“Where is my sister?”
“Are all women of your world unusual?” he asked with impatience.
“We are not unusual on our world,” she retorted. “Where is she?”
“She is safe and well.”
“Why are you here, then, if not to tell me something’s wrong?” she asked, perplexed.
“Nishani is unusual.”
“You come to tell me she is unusual?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand. I know she is unusual. She’s a brilliant artist, independent, a complete sweetheart, a little too emotional, but she’s an artist … I don’t understand.”
Evelyn gazed at him, waiting for more. His jaw clenched. By the look of this man, Kiera hadn’t wed him by choice. Romas had decreed that the man Kiera chose would have to have her agreement to be mated. Evelyn just didn’t see it happening. Kiera could be the most stubborn and frustrating woman Evelyn had ever met, and she’d sworn off any man, let alone an alien. She’d never fit into Romas’s society. Realization played across her mind, echoed in a puzzled smile dancing across her face.
“You can’t figure her out,” she said. “That’s it, isn’t it?” And she laughed. Kiera was well indeed if she were able to send a man like this to Evelyn’s door looking for advice. Kiera’s mate hadn’t counted on an obstinate bride.
The man before her crossed his arms, not amused.
Hormones and emotions kicked in at the same time, and Evelyn’s laughter turned to weeping. She sat on the table and buried her face in her hands, grateful and relieved to be reconnected with Kiera, even if indirectly. She cried until she could control herself, wiped her face, and drew several shuddering breaths.
“My … my sister is sweet but stubborn,” she managed. “I don’t have an easy answer to your problem, if that’s what you want. Is she speaking to you?”
She imagined the conversation was nothing short of torture for a warrior. She knew without a doubt that Romas’s arrogance would never allow him to admit his inability to deal with her to anyone. That Kiera’s warrior was at least willing to do something so painful gave her some hope for her friend.
“I have not seen her in a few days,” he replied after a pause.
“So you dumped her off and left,” Evelyn summarized, and wiped her face again. “Kiera will never be the woman you warriors want. Get used to that now. I’m sure a woman with intelligence will shock you.”
“I know of her intellect,” he said. “She’s bested my best battle planners with her mind. But she is a poor nishani.”
“She is a perfect nishani,” she returned. “Brilliant and beautiful? Can you find fault with that?”
“Her behavior.”
“You’ve not spent even a moment with her, and you complain of her behavior?” Evelyn shook her head and rose. She crossed to the boxes she had stacked in the corner and covered with a square of cloth. Romas had discarded most of Kiera’s things after her disappearance, but Evelyn managed to salvage two boxes and keep them hidden. She dug through one and withdrew a thick pad of paper and pack of pencils.
“If you take the time to know her, you won’t find fault in her behavior,” she said to him, and held out the items in her hand. “Give these to her.”
He took them, eyeing them as if they’d bite him.
“And … someday …” She trailed off. Even if this man agreed to bring Kiera back for a visit, Romas and his clan would deny permission. “Tell her she’ll be an aunt soon. When will you see her again?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good. Tell her I miss her, too.”
He gave a curt nod. Her Kiera was well and raising hell. There was nothing else she could want. Evelyn knew she didn’t deserve to feel at peace after the mess she dragged Kiera into, but she did feel it, and it made her genuinely content for the first time since she’d kidnapped her best friend.
***
Kiera tugged at the moon on her necklace as she walked down the hall toward the video game room. She’d dreamt of Evelyn last night and awoke missing her friend. And then both Gage and Talal had cornered her that morning with news that made her wish she was more like Evelyn. She wasn’t good at handling drama; Evelyn had always been like a perfect older sister, capable of patience and listening. Kiera just freaked out with bad news. She wished hard she could talk to Evelyn as she had in her dream last night and ask her what to do.
Voices came from the conference room, whose door was open. She stopped a few feet from the entrance, debating whether she should just leave, until she heard A’Ran’s name. She didn’t recognize the first man’s voice, but the second she did.
“A’Ran hasn’t returned?”
“He took a detour and is on his return trip, Father,” Ne’Rin said. “Have you been successful?”
“Somewhat. It’s been hard to break, but I think I found the weak point,” the first man replied. “It’ll take me a few days to position myself to take advantage of it. It involves Qatwal. I won’t say more, lest this communication is compromised. I’m having some problems with messages being intercepted after they leave the planet.”
“I understand. Our other plan is coming along. I believe Gage is in love with me, a simple emotion for a woman,” Ne’Rin said. “And she’s with child, Father.”
There was a short silence. Kiera crept closer.
“So he did find the correct nishani, if an Anshan woman is able to bear a child again,” the first man said quietly. “We’d all begun to doubt him. I had hoped he’d choose your sister.”
“His chosen is the nishani, but your doubt may be well-placed. She is not from here, doesn’t understand her role. She cannot do what the nishani must to help Anshan, and once our people see her, they’ll lose their faith in him. My sister would’ve been a much wiser choice, and far more beautiful.”
Kiera frowned, offended Ne’Rin thought so little of her, but not surprised. At least he was ragging on her to his family and not complete strangers. She could almost forgive him expressing his blunt opinion to his father.
“If I fail, mating into his family is the next logical step,” the first man said. “And it sounds like you have this taken care of.”
“Yes, Father, I do.”
“Nishani!” Talal’s voice jarred her. Kiera spun and darted down the hall, snatching Talal’s arm and pulling her around the corner before Ne’Rin saw them.
“You picked a bad time!” Kiera whispered, trotting down the hall.
“I only meant to tell you—”
“Do you know when A’Ran normally calls?” she asked.
“Soon, nishani. Do you wish to talk to him?” Talal brightened. “You should, nishani! It will shock and honor him.”
“Shock and honor?” Kiera repeated. “Those don’t sound like good things. Yes, I do.”
“You should wear his most preferred color, yellow,” Talal advised.
“That sounds nice,” Kiera said, distracted. She heard footsteps from the direction of the conference room and offered a smile as Ne’Rin rounded the corner. He eyed them.
“Ne’Rin, my sister Gage is looking for you.”
“Take me to her.”
Talal struck off without hesitation. Ne’Rin lingered, his hard gaze on Kiera. Kiera bowed her head as she’d seen the sisters do, trying hard not to look guilty like she’d overheard his conversation. He left at last, and she waited for him to disappear from sight before jogging to the conference room. She’d learned how to lock and unlock the doors and entered the conference room, locking it.
She debated what to do about the conversation she overheard. She didn’t understand the rules of this world well enough to know if she were jumping the gun, but what she heard made her very uncomfortable.
Maybe it was Gage’s involvement. The women of A’Ran’s family were sheltered. They couldn’t recognize a predator if it sat at their feet, and she was surprised to find her senses much more honed to such a ploy despite their social statuses rivaling those of royalty’s on earth. They should have been taught better, she mused with a frown.
She went to the battle game to play until A’Ran called, wondering what he’d say when she told him her news about his sisters and wondering just how safe it would be to talk about Ne’Rin’s conversation with his father. His father hadn’t wanted to talk over the viewer; she doubted she should either.
Less than an hour after she’d started playing the game, the communicator lit up and beeped. Excited and nervous, Kiera crossed to it and waved her armband over the access pad. She straightened her hair and took a deep breath.
It wasn’t Ne’Rin that greeted him for his daily briefing but the woman herself. She was dressed in faded teal that drew out her otherworldly eyes. She perched on the edge of one table, fidgeting hands in her lap and bright features alert as she focused on some point on the screen. A’Ran studied her for a long moment before turning on the reciprocal viewer, curious yet wary as to what his nishani had to say in place of Ne’Rin.
“Nishani,” he greeted her.
“Hello, A’Ran.” Her voice was soft and as feminine as her shape. Her pronunciation of his name was pleasantly accented. “How are you?”
“Well, as you see.”
“Ne’Rin said you were hurt.”
“The medical unit has healed me.” He leaned forward, curiosity growing. That she took enough interest in him to ask after his injury pleased him. “Where is Ne’Rin this day?”
“Indisposed.” A flicker of amusement crossed her face.
“My most trusted advisor chose not to attend his mandated meeting?” A’Ran raised an eyebrow.
“It wasn’t a choice,” she assured him. “I wanted to speak to you, but I didn’t want him around. I locked him out.”
The blatant defiance was so sweetly uttered, he didn’t know how to respond.
“He won’t even let me wear my translator when we have visitors,” she complained.
A’Ran knew he should chide her as he would his sisters and remind her of her place, but the words died before reaching his lips. His conversation with Evelyn lingered in his thoughts. Having spent most of his years in battle, he understood when a traditional approach would not work with an unusual opponent. He needed to adapt his strategies when dealing with her.
“What would you say to them?” he asked instead of lecturing her.
“I would just talk to them. I’m curious, and it’s absurd I’m not allowed to talk to anyone! I’m not sure what you or he is afraid of. I’d like to know who is visiting and why, where they’re from.”
“You’re seeking my permission to speak to the visitors,” he summarized, gauging her reaction. Nishani’s eyes narrowed, and she clenched her jaw. She was independent, an odd contrast given that she was far too delicate to defend herself if left to face the planet’s dangers on her own.
“Yes,” she grated, displeased.
“You have it, nishani.”
“Thanks, I think. How far away are you?”
“Half a day,” he answered.
“You’re returning?”
“Yes.”
“Did you win your battles?”
“I did.” He was puzzled by the question given that she had written most of the plans. She should already know he won.
“That’s good. Will you stay long, or do you go to fight again?” she asked.
“I will meet with members of the Council. They should arrive there before the suns set, and I shortly after. I’m not certain how long I’ll stay,” he replied.
“When you go again, I’d like to go with you.” The odd request made him pause. At his lack of response, she continued, “Ne’Rin disagrees. Your sisters don’t like the idea either, but I would really like to go with you. I wouldn’t get in the way. I can take care of myself for the most part, and wouldn’t mind rough conditions.”
“No, nishani,” he replied. The thought of her in rough conditions or battle met instant instinctual resistance. “You will stay where it is safe.”
She hesitated, then ignored the warning edge in his voice. “You don’t stay where it is safe, and you’re the only remaining dhjan.”
A’Ran gazed at her silently, making his disapproval clear.
“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” she relented. “But I don’t consider this matter to be closed.”
Her directness and pure courage—there was no other word for her insubordinate address!—amazed him. He understood why Ne’Rin had refused to allow her to wear the translator with visitors.
“Nishani,” he said with a shake of his head. “You are too bold.”
“How else would I speak to you?” she asked. “And if I’m not allowed to speak my mind to you, who do I speak it to?”
“You may speak any mind you wish to me. But you must understand my people are not like you, are not as accepting of your loose tongue.”
“I know,” she said, growing red. There was a long pause where the two assessed each other. “A’Ran, I have to tell you something about Gage.”
“What has my sister done?” he asked, making himself comfortable in his chair.
“She’s with child.”
He stiffened, surprised.
“She’s afraid to tell you.”
No woman had given birth in many sun-cycles, because the planet’s spirit was severed without the dhjan and the nishani. He was torn between wanting to confront Ne’Rin and demand he make his sister an honorable woman and laughing out loud to know that he had chosen a nishani capable of healing his planet, his people.
“It will be taken care of,” he said calmly.
“You should let them work it out.”
“Ne’Rin will honor my sister.”
“I’m sure he will, but you shouldn’t force someone into such a relationship,” she said, and crossed her arms. “It’s not accepted everywhere, you know.”
“It is accepted here,” he replied. He raised an eyebrow in challenge, and she glared at him.
“And Talal,” she continued.
“What of her?”
“She’s with child as well. She told me this morning and asked me not to tell anyone, but you probably need to know.”
A’Ran said nothing, though he clenched the arms of his chair hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He sifted through memories to find who might be connected to his youngest sister. No warrior came to mind. In fact, he had never seen any warrior speak to her save Ne’Rin. As much as he wanted to welcome the information of his healing planet, he also wanted to strangle the men impregnating his family members.
“Talal,” he repeated at last, and leaned forward again.
“There’s a man named Ketnan. She’s been involved with him for some time now.”
The name was unfamiliar, which meant he was not well connected and not among the families of his advisors.
“It will be taken care of,” he said once more.
“Please don’t interfere,” she said with a frown. “They need to deal with things themselves, don’t you think?”
“It’s my duty as their brother. I must protect them and ensure their honor and mine remains intact.”
“That seems to be a very harsh way of regarding your sisters’ future happiness.”
“Happiness can be restored. Honor cannot,” he said firmly. “What other surprises have you for me?”
“No more surprises,” she replied. The sudden change in her expression from open to shuttered drew his attention. “I think there are some matters we should discuss when you return.”
“What matters?” he pursued.
“This isn’t the place, A’Ran.”
“Woman,” he growled, “you do not tell me my place.”
She assessed him again and shifted under his scrutiny before looking away.
“I don’t trust these machines and who might overhear,” she said. “If it please you, I’d rather wait to discuss this later.”
“It does not please me.”
“Then you’ll have to wait anyway.”
She stood, as if to tell him their conversation was over. A’Ran almost echoed her movement. His size might have an impression on her in person, but over the viewer, it meant nothing. She could just as easily flick off the viewer as he could. He didn’t doubt the unpredictable woman would do such an incredible thing. At the moment he wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, and he was uncertain whether he wanted more to kiss those perfect lips or shake some sense into her.
He leaned back and drew a calming breath. She was distraught about something, though he couldn’t fathom what might distress her if the news of his sisters’ impending babes and complete loss of honor did not. That news certainly distressed him.
“You’re angry?” She studied him.
“I’m not angry.”
“You look angry.”
“You’re trying my patience, woman,” he said. He raised his chin to indicate the table to her left. “Have you been using that machine?”
Nishani glanced in the direction he indicated and returned a wary gaze to him.
“Did Ne’Rin tell you that?”
“So you have been.”
“Yes, I have,” she said. “Ne’Rin suggested that I not use it.”
“What do you think of it?” he asked, avoiding the direct challenge in her gaze.
“It’s a very interesting game, though I don’t understand how it works exactly. I think I’ve got most of it down,” she said, relaxing when he didn’t lecture her.
“Game,” he repeated.
“That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it? The battle game on that console?”
He was silent in surprise once more, unable to understand how she might consider his battle plans nothing more than a complex game. If she were unfamiliar with the accepted societal behaviors of a woman on his planet, he couldn’t expect her to be any more familiar with the machine. Yet her naiveté was almost too much for him to bear. How did a woman like this find her way to him of all men?
“How do you like it?” he forced himself to ask.
“I like it a lot. I’ve been spending a lot of time here working with it.” She brightened. “I think I’ve gotten quite good at it.”
“I’ll inform Ne’Rin you’ve approval to continue.”
“Approval? My world is very different,” she said, brow furrowing.
“I’ve assessed that your men can’t control their women,” he said.
She gave a startled laugh. “No, and the women wouldn’t let them anyway,” she said. “It’s closer to the opposite.”
“If you’ve nothing more to tell me, send in Ne’Rin,” he directed.
“It was nice talking to you,” she said. “Have a safe trip.”
She walked toward the door. The woman was more peculiar than any ten-legged creature he’d met on any other planet. Her mannerisms, her features, her obliviousness to the world around her, her soft voice. Oddly enough, he was beginning to like the challenging package that was his nishani.
He’d see her in less than a day, if the Council didn’t absorb all his time.
***
The next morning, she started her normal daily routine and made her way to the courtyard where she trained with the boys. Sunlight blinded her as she walked onto the field. When she could focus again, she stopped short.
A’Ran was with the boys.
His naked back was to her. The man was built like a god! Thick, bronze skin coated layers of roped, rippling muscles. His tucked waist and hips were clad in dark brown, his feet bare. Dark hair was tucked into a tight knot at the base of his neck. In the short time since he left, she had forgotten how buff he was. He appeared much smaller on the communications viewer. She watched him move, intimidated by his size.
She had been pretty mouthy with him from a distance. She felt the urge to retreat to her room and stay there until he left again. One of the boys noticed her. Instead of the welcoming smile, a frantic look crossed his face.
If the giant of a man before her decided to be angry at her for breaking the rules, she’d panic as well. She was about to sneak away when A’Ran’s sword lowered, and he turned, alerted by the boy’s reaction. Kiera stared at him, struggling to focus on his face when all she wanted to do was study every inch of his perfect body. His chest was wide and sprinkled with dark hairs that trailed his ridged belly and disappeared into the dark pants.
Her body flushed, her blood pounding. Whatever otherworldly bond connected them prevented her from moving away. She couldn’t begin to imagine what a man like that would feel like in bed! To run her hands over the washboard abs or twirl her fingertips through the tight hairs dusting his chest …Or better yet, to feel his large hands and muscular body against hers ...
“Nishani,” he greeted her with his normal curtness.
She cleared her throat, forcing herself to focus on his dark eyes. His face was more handsome than she remembered, more rugged with a two days’ growth covering his neck and jaw. It made him all the more untamed, unlike Romas’s sculpted beauty. Piercing eyes leveled on her, but she could read nothing in them, especially not what he thought of her.
She wondered why she had the sudden urge to know what he thought.
“Welcome home,” she managed, and clasped her trembling hands behind her back. A’Ran turned to the boys and tossed his head. It took nothing else to send all five of them scurrying away. She couldn’t remember when the outdoors had felt so small or when it’d become so humid she was sweating in place.
A’Ran retrieved one sword from its stand, flipped it in the air, and caught the blade. To her surprise, he offered it to her.
“I know you train with them,” he stated.
“I suppose you’ll forbid it,” she said, eyeing him.
“Come.”
Wondering what he was trying to prove, she took the sword and balanced it. He said nothing but dropped into a fighting stance. The sight made her uneasy.
“I’m not good enough to face you,” she said, remembering how he’d beaten men bigger than him into a pulp to free her from Romas’s clan.
He motioned her forward with one hand. Her heart thudded, her palms damp. He could smash her into a million pieces if he wanted. Given her blatant ignorance of his rules, he had every probable cause to do so. At least he gave her the chance to go down fighting,
She began as she had been taught, focusing on her form. A’Ran met her blows gently, redirecting them without affecting her balance. He said nothing but let her strike several times before shifting to the offensive. She blocked clumsily at first but ordered herself not to look weak in front of such a man and focused hard.
She waited for him to flex his strength and drive her into the ground, surprised when he never did. If anything, he was gentle and patient, traits she hadn’t expected from a warrior. They sparred until she grew tired and lowered her weapon. Kiera wiped her forehead, unable but to admire the sheen of sweat on A’Ran’s wide upper body. He straightened as she stopped and gave an approving nod.
“They have taught you well.”
He replaced his sword and strode toward her. She held out her hand for him to take the sword. Instead, he gripped her sword wrist and moved behind her. His touch sent heated energy through her, and the nearness of his body made her tense. He was heated and huge at her back. One massive hand circled her to rest on her abdomen. He drew her into his body.
“Widen your stance,” he instructed, and nudged her left leg out farther with his own. “I’ll teach you the first weapons form we teach our warriors.”
Kiera was dumbstruck both by his willingness to teach her and his touch. Her face felt hot. A’Ran’s warm chest was at her back, his intimate touch on her stomach making her feel far more delicate than she ever had. He said something that her spinning mind couldn’t catch. Her body was too aware of his. It distracted her until he shifted her body forward to demonstrate and correct her stance. Kiera blinked and forced herself to pay attention. She was too stiff for him to move. He nudged her right foot forward. She complied.
“ … your balance lower.”
She couldn’t register his words and tried hard to focus. A’Ran locked their bodies together with his large hand on her stomach. He used his body to guide hers. His legs and hands applied gentle pressure while his body balanced her in some of the awkward positions.
They went through an entire range of movements, from attacking to defending in motions that resembled a dance. He said little else, and her breathing soon fell into rhythm with his. She eased against him, awed by his pure strength yet determined not to appear as stupid as she felt. Their movements were slow and methodical, controlled, deliberate. Her body strained under muscle fatigue as the form became increasingly complex and slower. A’Ran supported her. By the time she returned to the starting position, she was sweating and breathing hard. Her sword arm shook, and her legs were rubbery. He pried the sword from her clamped hand.
“Yes, you are forbidden from training with them,” he said.
Surprised, she pulled away from the comfortable position resting against him and twisted to face him.
“After this, you’ll forbid me from learning?” she demanded. She took in his beautiful body as he crossed to place her sword in the sword stand.
“I said they’ll not train you.”
“You’ll train me?” she asked, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.
“Yes.” He gazed at her, as if awaiting a refusal. She couldn’t determine if she’d won this round or not.
“You seem too busy,” she said.
“I will make time for you.”
“No, no. I’m not … I know you’re waging a war. Don’t overextend yourself for me,” she said, her face warm once again.
“I was unaware you wished to see me.”
Once again, there was too much behind his simple statement for her to address. Worse, she could think of nothing to say in response that wouldn’t get her in more trouble.
“You are not so bold in person,” he said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.
She looked at him hard. Anger flared at the tone of his voice. How could he say such a thing after all he had put her through?
“You kidnap me, trick me into marrying you, dump me here alone without Evelyn or even a pad of paper, with instructions for your sisters to give me behavioral training, and run off to fight some battle somewhere else. I’m not allowed to talk to anyone or do anything! You have some nerve to do all that and make fun of me for trying to fit in or ignore me when you do return! I am so angry at you, and if you were half an inch smaller, I’d whip your hide, dhjan or not!”
The flurry of words left before she could temper them. She neared him as she spoke until she was toe-to-toe with the massive man and glaring up at him.
“I will make amends,” he said, his gaze taking in her features.
It was better than an apology. Being so close rattled her senses, and she thought again of the kiss they had shared over a month before. She focused on his eyes as much as she wished to focus on his warm lips. He smelled of pure, primal man, his own scent mixed with sweat.
“I am pleased to learn I was wrong,” he said in a quiet voice. He made no move to close the distance between them. Instead, he stepped away and strode toward the door.
She watched him go, his touch branded on her skin and her emotions muddled. She cursed herself, aware she had accomplished little as far as advancing her rights but managed to draw the guaranteed attention of a man she was not certain she wanted to notice her. The short time together had been enough to remind her just how strong the bond was between them.
It scared her.
As she retreated to the safety of her quarters, her gaze was caught by the objects sitting on her bed: a fat sketchbook and pack of drawing pencils. She reached out and took them, surprised to find them there and even more surprised at how strongly she’d missed them. They were like old friends who came to visit after a long absence. She flipped open the notebook and buried her nose between the pages, breathing the fresh paper smell. She felt tears in her eyes at the small reminder of her past life and hugged the gifts to her chest.
A’Ran.
It couldn’t be coincidence that he returned and they appeared! She forgot her shaky body and the whirling of her emotions and strode toward the door, intent on discovering if he had done this and if so, if he had more. Such a notebook would last her a week or two. Kiera stopped in the hallway, considering where the enigmatic dhjan might have gone.
She trotted down the hall, toward the practice fields, not surprised to see all the warriors sparring on the field. A’Ran was several hundred meters out, surrounded by a group of over a dozen. Ne’Rin was closer to the door, and Kiera remained in the shadows inside the house, watching.
He was sparring with another warrior, his fluid, destructive movements far from the gentle ones he used with her. She admired the way his body shifted and moved. The muscles of his upper body bulged as he sparred, their changing shapes amplified by a play of shade and sunlight.
She debated returning to her quarters until she could find a more private moment to approach him. She doubted he’d appreciate her embarrassing one of them. For once, she wished she’d listened to Gage or Talal.
Ne’Rin caught sight of her just as she decided to leave. The cool toss of his head—a blatant dismissal—changed her mind again. She shot him a look and stepped from the house, moving toward the field with the gifts at her side. She ignored him as she passed. Though he made no move to stop her once she was visible, he did trail her. Those who noticed her stopped to bow as she passed them.
She reached the circle where A’Ran fought and joined the observers. Some of the men were exotic even by Anshan standards. One towered just as tall as the other men but was thinner than any waif-like model she had seen on earth. Another was hunch-backed and dressed in heavy robes despite the heat of the day, and a third man barely taller than her had white irises and silvering hair.
The men watched the silent battle in equal silence, their assessing looks warning her they were looking for something. The man A’Ran fought was more than a foot taller, with light skin and black hair resembling one of the observers. They fought with the grey swords, combining the sword dance with hand-to-hand combat moves for a ferocious battle that surprised her. It was more intense than sparring, and she wondered what was at stake with the simple fight.
She considered retreating but suspected that would draw the attention of the men focused on the battle. She gripped her notebook.
The battle continued, and the men around her grew tenser when the first fleck of blood appeared on A’Ran’s opponent. His opponent faltered, and A’Ran smashed him to the ground hard. Kiera was more than a little surprised when he raised his sword for what would have been a death blow. The sword implanted next to the downed man’s ear, and her small gasp drew the attention of the observers.
The feel of several sets of eyes assessing her made her heart beat harder and her mouth dry. She resisted the urge to leave, instead riveting her gaze to A’Ran.
A’Ran pulled his opponent to his feet, offered several quiet words, and turned his gaze to her. It was the intense, fierce look of a leader and a warrior, and she was surprised to note a difference in the way he regarded her not more than an hour ago.
She felt silly seeking him out for something as simple as a notebook. He was, after all, equivalent of a king on this world! How ridiculous would she seem? She awaited some sort of reprimand, already wounded by the thought of being publicly embarrassed. A’Ran’s intense gaze swept over her before turning to the observers.
“Council members, dhjan nishani,” he announced.
The men around her offered stiff bows. Kiera looked around uncertainly before returning her gaze to A’Ran.
“We will meet in two. Opal, meet me in the command center,” A’Ran directed.
Opal, the tall, thin man, nodded and stepped toward the house. The men around her broke away, the two with dark hair joining A’Ran’s opponent while the alabaster giant joined Ne’Rin. She wasn’t surprised to see the man in the thick robes move to the cooler shade of the house. The small man with white irises drew near her, his eerie, unblinking gaze making her uncomfortable.
“It is not often I find another smaller than I, nishani,” he said in a thin voice. “The dhjan has granted us permission to address you. Be not alarmed.”
“I am not alarmed,” she murmured.
“I am Jetr. I come from the planet of Dolsom. My people are Anshan’s greatest allies.”
“Is your planet far?” she asked.
“Unfortunately far, in the farthest of the Five Galaxies. I haven’t seen my home in many sun-cycles.”
“You must miss your home as I do mine.”
He tilted his head to the side, observing her with a faint smile.
“Jetr, you are welcome to join us.” A’Ran’s deep voice saved her from filling the awkward quiet. “Please accompany Opal.”
Jetr took the dismissal with a bow of his head and moved away. A’Ran waited. He kept the distance between them, and she felt it like a rejection. Even so, he was too stunning for her to look away. She cleared her throat then said,
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to keep you from your meeting.”
“You received them.” His gaze fell to her chest, where she clenched the sketchbook.
“Yes. I just wanted to thank you,” she said. “I won’t keep you.”
She intended to walk away but found herself stuck, gazing up at him. She was curious about the softer side of him and captivated by his steady gaze. There were many things she suddenly wanted to know about the man she was stuck with. His every look was penetrating, as if he sought to capture her thoughts whenever she crossed his path. She had the impression of extreme intelligence and extreme determination, a combination that awed and intimidated her. Uneasy with the stirrings within her, she forced herself to step away.
“Thank you.”
Only when she turned did she break eye contact, but she felt him watch her. Kiera squeezed the gifts to her chest and walked back to the house, lost in thought. There was something about A’Ran that flipped her world on end. She blinked as she entered the darker house and forced her attention on her surroundings. She returned to her room, eager to spend the day drawing.
She started with a sketch of A’Ran and found she couldn’t focus on anything else. She drew him as she’d seen him in the morning, bare-chested and carrying a sword. She drew him as she’d seen him during their conversation the day before, the quietly fierce leader seated in his ship. She found herself sketching him as she’d seen him in the vision from what felt like years ago when they walked hand-in-hand on the dead planet.
It was past dark fall when she finished, and she gazed at her last sketch, intrigued by it. It was what would happen if for some reason she didn’t go back to her own planet. A’Ran wasn’t as controlling as Romas, from what she knew of him, and she couldn’t help feeling as drawn to the picture in front of her as she was to the man himself.
She wondered what life would be like with someone like him, or if he was so bound to duty, there was no room for real affection. She sketched the planet next and fell asleep at her desk.