Chapter Eleven

Kangee sat around a large fire in the center of the village along with her family and Night Warrior’s family. The cold, damp air clung to her arms, but it wasn’t the fog that chilled her to the bone. It was the woman sitting next to Night Warrior. Glancing through the dancing flames of the fire, Kangee glared at both.

Since her arrival, Tatonga had not left his side. She didn’t have to touch him to give the impression that she clung to him like moss on a tree. It was in her actions, the looks she sent him, and the way she narrowed her eyes at the other women. Even his mother and aunts.

“Will she not stop talking?” Kangee muttered. Tatonga’s mouth moved nonstop.

“Did you say something, Mithan?” Blaze couldn’t keep the thread of laughter from her voice.

Kangee grimaced and picked at her bowl of venison and greens. “You heard what I said.” Blaze’s hearing was as sharp as her own, which, unfortunately, allowed Kangee and all SpiritWalkers to hear every single whisper, giggle, and word that came out of Tatonga’s mouth.

Unable to stop herself, Kangee watched Tatonga. The woman ate and talked. Talked and ate. She looked as though those two activities were her favorite pastimes. An elbow in her ribs from her sister-in-law made her sigh. “I didn’t say anything,” she grumbled.

“Didn’t have to. You reveal your thoughts on your face,” Blaze said.

Kangee huffed out a breath. Eat. Ignore them. But when Tatonga shifted so that her knee touched Night Warriors, Kangee clenched her teeth. She was tempted to drop a whirling wind over the woman, suck her up, and fling her deep into the forest.

She sighed and pushed her food around with her finger. No matter how tempted, she would not give in. Not because it was a misuse of her power and not even because her grandmother sat to one side of the couple. It was her own innate sense of fairness.

It wasn’t the woman’s fault that Night Warrior was Kangee’s SpiritMate. The woman believed she had rights regarding Night Warrior. And maybe she did. Kangee eyed Night Warrior. Given any bit of encouragement, she might be tempted to let the wind toss him somewhere deep in the forest as well.

As though reading her mind, Grandmother glanced over, her wise eyes sharp as the tip of an arrow and just as deadly with their piercing stare. Kangee kept herself from squirming. She’d done nothing wrong. Yet.

To her surprise, Grandmother smiled, winked, and then gave a tiny flick of her finger, so slight that Kangee almost missed it.

The sharp pop of fire sent a shower of sparks high into the air. Kangee’s eyes widened when a slight shift in the air sent the hot embers toward Tatonga, who was leaning over Night Warrior, so close, all he had to do was put his arm around her to embrace her.

Tatonga squealed and whirled around, scooting away from the hot embers. Kangee choked on her laugh and went into a coughing fit.

Night Warrior also shifted to avoid the sparks falling like stars from the sky. He narrowed his eyes at her.

Kangee shrugged her shoulders, but her grin faded when Tatonga leaned close to Night Warrior, brushing ash off his shoulders.

Beside her, Blaze sighed. “I am sorry, Mithan.”

Too distraught, too angry, too heartsick to even pretend to eat, Kangee set her bowl onto the ground. She couldn’t speak. What would she say? Or even do? Gray Dove had told her that he had called off the wedding, but it was obvious Tatonga refused to release him.

“You need to eat.”

Kangee shook her head. “No, I cannot.” The sight and scent of food made her feel sick to her stomach. She was tired, worried, afraid, and mad. Emotions churned through her. So much had happened in the last few weeks, the last day, that she found it difficult to comprehend the twists and turns to her life.

She swallowed a yawn. Her sleepless night was catching up with her. She closed her eyes. Sleep. She just needed sleep.

No. Her eyes flew open. She didn’t dare. She feared what awaited her in her dreams.

Blaze touched her arm. “I know you are tired. And afraid. But you must eat.” She handed Kangee a flat corn cake.

Kangee glanced up at the sky—the grayness, the sullen, sulkiness of the fog had grown thicker instead of thinning and was dropping lower. A small drift of moist air above them swirled downward like a hawk diving for prey. Shivering, her heart pounding, Kangee nearly leapt up, but the sudden flare from the fire sent a blast of hot air upward to consume the cold air.

Her gaze shot to her grandmother. The elderly woman was frowning, her sharp gaze on the sickly yellowish-green wisps of fog that looked bruised.

Kangee glanced around. There were no birds chirping, no squirrels chattering. Not even a breath of wind in the trees. Just a faint, foul taint to the air as though something nasty hid in the fog.

Frightened, she whispered, “Unci?”

The wise woman shook her head. Later

Kangee’s anxiety returned. Everyone around her had gone on alert, except her father, who was staring into the forest.

For the first time since he’d come into her life, he looked old, tired, and beaten. He wanted to return to his search for Eagle Woman, but Grandmother had ordered him to wait.

Tears stung her eyes. She wanted to go to him, throw her arms around him and tell him she’d find her mother and bring her back, but her own fear of failure kept her silent.

Staring around the circle of her family and Night Warrior’s, she tried to tell herself she could do this—she had to do this. Family surrounded her. Everything would be all right. It had to be, yet her talents were few, unlike her aunts and uncles who each possessed great power and command of their world.

She glanced at Bright Star. Her aunt sat tall, proud, and silent. She and her twin were among the most powerful in her tribe, second only to Grandmother. The energy and power swept over Kangee, making her wonder why it had fallen to her to save her mother.

She brought the cake she was crumbling with her nervous fingers to her mouth, but before she took a bite, raw laughter, sounding much like her father’s pack mule, made her cringe. Her corn cake broke into crumbs and fell to the dirt.

“That woman,” she muttered as she picked at the ruined cornbread. Hearing another bark of laughter, she hunched her shoulders.

How could he? She crushed the tidbit of food flat between her fingers and thought back to last night, or was it early this morning? She sighed. It didn’t matter. What was important was that what had happened between them had not only felt right, it had been right.

Calling upon the energy and warmth of the moon had been a powerful act she’d never forget but it had been nothing compared to when he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her beneath the full moon. That moment confirmed what she’d suspected: they belonged. Her warrior of the night was the other half of her heart and soul, her SpiritMate.

Kangee wanted to stand and shout her news to her people for finding one’s mate was cause for celebration but another loud, raucous peal of laughter rang out followed by an equally irritating giggle that set her teeth on edge.

She rubbed her eyes with her fingers. Hard. She and Night Warrior were connected by dreams and so much more. She wasn’t about to let this woman come between them.

What if Night Warrior refused to accept that the two of them were meant to be? She sighed and mentally ticked off the list of things that she needed to do.

Find and save her mother.

Convince her warrior that they were SpiritMates.

Get rid of one very irritating woman.

“No problem,” she muttered.

She ignored the looks from her family and put Night Warrior and the other woman out of her mind. Her mother was all that mattered. She’d just concentrate on finding and saving her.

Except she needed Night Warrior’s help. And not just to find her mother or to fulfill what her grandmother had said. She needed her warrior to keep her safe and steady and she needed him to make her heart and soul complete.

Kangee swallowed but the lump in her throat made it difficult. Her stomach contracted and her heart ached. Though it hurt, she lifted her eyes and watched Tatonga press food into her warrior’s hands. The woman’s loud, grating voice went on and on about their wedding and the children she’d give to Night Warrior.

He is my SpiritMate.

Agitated, yet needing to appear calm, Kangee folded her hands and set them in her lap. She kept her eyes downcast. Her hair fell forward and hid the tears in her eyes. No matter what she told herself, it hurt to see another woman openly claiming her SpiritMate.

Unashamed, she tuned out all the conversations around her and focused on Night Warrior and the woman. Though he said little, Tatonga chattered nonstop, like the squirrels in the trees. It was wrong of Kangee to invade their privacy, but she couldn’t help it and had no one but herself to blame as Tatonga nattered on and on about plans for the wedding feast. When the woman finally stopped talking, she got to her feet and entered the lodge belonging to Night Warrior and his family as though she belonged there.

Even at that distance, Kangee heard her ordering his mother about. Gritting her teeth, Kangee lifted her head and studied the open doorway. A slight breeze in the towering pines loosened more dead pine needles that fell onto the roof with a tiny skittering sound.

Kangee focused on the edge of the roof and the layer of needles that the wind had yet to sweep away. Silently, she called upon the breath of Wind to brush the needles into a neat pile then waited.

When Tatonga stepped out with a bowl of water cupped in her hands, Kangee shifted her hands in her lap, and with a tiny, short jerk, the pine needles took to the air, lifted by a sudden, concentrated gust of wind. The dry needles hung as though suspended, then fell right on top of the woman.

Startled, Tatonga jumped back, dropped her bowl, and fell, landing on her backside. The bowl hit the dusty ground and sent into the air a small wave of cold water that, with a bit of help from Kangee, ended up splashing Night Warrior.

He jerked and gave a low hiss of pain. Kangee hid her satisfied smile.

“Not nice, Little Sister.” A thread of humor laced Blaze’s rebuke.

She shrugged. Petty of her, she knew, and she was careful to avoid her father and grandmother’s gazes.

Beside Blaze, Bright Star chuckled and leaned closer. “Clever. Very clever.”

Kangee’s lips twitched. That small act of rebellion went a long way to easing the tightness in her heart, but when Night Warrior turned his hard gaze her way, her pain speared through her heart.

Kangee tipped her chin upward and glared back. You are mine.

I belong to no one.

Narrowing her eyes, pleased that once again, they’d connected in this silent manner, she sent her thoughts back to her SpiritMate. You do not tell the truth, Warrior. We are connected. If you know my thoughts, then you know this is so.

Is this not just another trait of your people—to talk without words? Night Warrior waved away Tatonga and her attempts to dry the water from his body with her skirt. Your grandmother and sister-in-law have both communicated in this manner. He glanced at Blaze as though checking to see if she heard his thoughts.

Kangee kept her eyes on his, Tatonga forgotten for the moment. You and Blaze are connected because she healed you. Grandmother is powerful. I think she can communicate with anyone she wishes. But until you, I had never talked silently with anyone except my mother and Skye. The bond between you and I is strong. This is proof that we are connected. She didn’t dare use the word SpiritMate again. Not yet.

Night Warrior looked thoughtful, as though part of him was fascinated by this new discovery. The connection is your mother. Or Skye. He dismissed her claim that the two of them were connected in any other manner than as a couple.

Kangee sent images of the two of them beneath the moon from her mind to his. She called upon the warmth that had surrounded them and shared it, then added how she’d felt in his arms, how the kiss had ignited a desire for more. She held back nothing, not even the rush of desire that came from remembering their kiss.

Desire and longing left her nearly gasping with need. She shared with him all that was within her. He looked uncomfortable but not convinced, so she flooded his mind with his own reactions, their moans, the feel of his hands on her and hers on him. But in trying to prove to him that they SpiritMates, she’d set her own body on fire.

Deny me now, Warrior. Does that woman fawning over you make your heart race? Can she read your mind and feel the blood rushing through your veins? Kangee lifted her chin, daring him to break eye contact. She spoke not just her mind but also her heart. You belong to me, Warrior.

Night Warrior couldn’t look away from Kangee’s wild beauty, the flash of emotions in her eyes that flooded both his mind and body. Each image she shot into his mind left him aching with lust. He tasted her, breathed in her scent, and heard her sweet moans of pleasure as though he held her in his arms. With great difficulty, he kept himself still, giving nothing away on the outside, but inside, he was a quivering mass of need.

Caught and trapped by the fierceness in her eyes, everything around him faded, as though it were just the two of them, as it had been last night when they’d shared that kiss beneath the moon.

In her eyes, he saw the hurt and anger she tried hard to hide. Her pain became his pain for he wanted and needed her more than he wanted to regain his strength and the use of his injured limbs.

Last night, he’d given in to his need to touch her, hold her, and feel her lips against his. He hadn’t thought of Tatonga or even to his own reasons for calling off the marriage. He’d acted on the moment and, in doing so, had given Kangee the wrong impression.

I am sorry for hurting you and not telling you about Tatonga.

Gray Dove said you called off your wedding.

Night Warrior sighed. Yes. My injuries mean I cannot provide for a mate. Those reasons have not changed. He wished things were different, feared he wasn’t strong enough to resist Kangee? He yearned to hold her, taste her, and feel her body against his. With her at his side, he was complete, yet he truly wasn’t, and until the day came when he was fully healed, he had no right tying her to him.

Kangee kept her gaze on his. You will heal and be whole again, for you are a SpiritWalker now.

Tatonga shifted, bringing herself closer so that she was practically sitting on him.

Across from him, Kangee’s gaze burned with a fury that he felt. What are you going to do now?

Night Warrior sighed, shifted away from the woman. He winced when Tatonga’s voice rose as she berated him for ignoring her.

The woman is overbearing, bossy and loud. Kangee rolled her eyes and looked for a moment as though she felt sorry for him.

Night Warrior stifled a groan. I cannot argue with that.

Beside him, Tatonga whirled around to see what had captured her warrior’s attention.

“Why do you watch that woman? It is I who will soon be your wife.” She folded her hands across her ample breasts and glared at Kangee.

Across from them, Kangee stood. Remember, you belong to me as I belong to you. With a toss of her head, she turned her back on him.

Tatonga glanced at him, her gaze avoiding his raw wounds. “I care not that you are marked from battle or that you will not become chief of my tribe. I am still willing to be your wife.”

Night Warrior stood. “You should not have come.”

She stood as well. “I wanted to see for myself that you had survived.”

“You have seen. My answer is the same. I cannot marry you. It is best that you and your people return.” Night Warrior turned away.

Tatonga stepped into his path. “I will not leave. You made a promise. You will keep it. “Do you think I do not see the way you look at that woman? You think to take her as wife instead of me.”

Night Warrior rubbed his aching arm. “I cannot marry anyone at the moment.” And that was the truth. Though he suspected Kangee was right, that somehow, the two of them were connected and not just by her mother or the evil spirit, he refused to marry until he could provide for her. In the meantime, he had to find a way to get Tatonga to leave. Things were complicated enough without adding her jealousy and Kangee’s fury and petty pranks.

“I am not leaving.” Tatonga slapped her hands onto her ample hips.

“I will discuss this with your brother. Or my chief will.”

He spun around and almost fell on his face when he forgot about his injured leg. Tired of dealing with difficult women when the day had just barely begun, he headed into the forest. He hadn’t gotten far before Kangee’s voice slid into his mind.

Warrior. Grandmother has need of your presence.

Night Warrior ignored her. He yearned to be alone. He wanted peace. Quiet. Time to think. Tatonga’s unexpected arrival and her determination to wed as planned made him feel like a trapped animal.

If he took a wife, honor dictated he marry Tatonga, but his heart urged him to claim Kangee, as she’d claimed him. He frowned, recalling how she’d called him her SpiritMate. He sighed. The word fit. There was no denying he and Kangee’s spirits were somehow connected. He thought of that ball of light and how he’d been drawn to her in death and how now, in life, he wanted to make her his.

Return, Warrior.

The pull of Kangee’s voice made him want to turn around and go to her, and because that was exactly what he wanted, he kept moving, feeling like a guilty young boy disobeying an elder.

Behind him, the sound of crashing in the thick brush startled him. He whirled around to see a sleek, black cat emerge. She hissed, held out a paw, claws extended. He froze. Something brushed against the back of his thighs. His heart jumped into his throat when he spotted a wolf blocking his retreat.

It took a moment to realize these animals were Kangee’s family, not wild creatures. Glaring into the intense gaze of the wolf, he shifted a step away. “Leave.”

The wolf moved with him, and the cat continued to growl. Suddenly, the wolf blurred.

In the blink of an eye, Kangee’s father stood before him. “You will return with us.”

Eyes narrowed, Night Warrior stood his ground.

Conrad reached out to grip his shoulder with one hand. “Grandmother has gathered us together by the stream. You are needed as well.”

“You cannot force me to return,” Night Warrior said.

Con rad nodded in acknowledgement. “We could, but we won’t. It is your choice, but I would ask you to hear me out.”

Glancing from cat to man, he dipped his head. “Speak.”

Pacing, Conrad was silent as he gathered his thoughts. The black cat slipped into the brush as though to give them a moment alone. “If it is true that my daughter is the only one who can find and free her mother, my wife, then she needs you. My wife may be lost to me. I cannot lose the daughter of my heart. Come. For her. Do not let her face Ardong alone.”

“She’s going to try to find her mother again?”

“Yes. Her grandmother has asked her to make contact with my wife.”

Conrad’s gaze pleaded with him, though the man stood tall and proud. There was no way that Night Warrior would allow Kangee to do this without him. “If your daughter needs me, I will come.” Seeing relief mingled with anguish in Kangee’s father’s features, he put his hand on Conrad’s shoulder. “We will find a way to return your wife to you and to your children.”

He turned, and strode past the cat and proudly, limped his way back to his village where two women waited—one that he was honor-bound to marry but wouldn’t and the other who held not just his heart but his mind and soul.