“Reule will be here any second,” he assured her firmly.
Mystique glared at him. He stood like a sentinel—a jailor—with arms crossed over his chest and the legs she had healed braced firmly apart.
“Aw, come on, Mystique,” he groaned, “that isn’t fair.”
He was right. It wasn’t fair. He was only protecting her and doing what Reule had asked him to do. She walked over to Chayne and touched an affectionate palm to his jaw. “I’m sorry, Chayne. Forgive me.”
“Mystique…” The tough man flushed under her affection like a young boy kissed by his mother in front of all his friends. She giggled and kissed his cheek anyway, knowing he was pleased regardless of what he’d show to her or others.
“And you get the apology even though it isn’t fair for you to read my mind when I can’t do the same in return,” she said pointedly. “I thought there were manners about that.”
“Yeah, well, the rules change when there’s…um…” He hesitated, then sighed. “When there’s potential danger.”
“I see.” She ignored the gist of his words and focused on the etiquette. “So you’re saying that when the Pack is on alert, reading the minds around you becomes acceptable?”
“Automatic, really. Not all at once, of course, because that would overload us, but it’s more efficient to do away with speech. Did you know the Sánge had no spoken language for centuries?”
“No,” she said, honestly fascinated now.
“We’re all telepaths. There was no need. Then, as the other races began to cross our paths—”
The intriguing Sánge history lesson ended when the door flew open and Reule strode into the room.
“Shadows.”
It was a sharp command and both Chayne and Darcio hastened to vacate the room, closing the door behind them. Mystique looked at him, her brows drawing down into a wrinkled line of worry. Reule’s heart turned over as she looked into his eyes with nervousness shimmering through her emotional aura. All he could think of in that moment was how beautiful she was. The curve of her soft cheek where it arched beneath her eye, the endless glittering facets of those gemlike irises, and the pale perfection of skin he now knew was soft and flawless along every inch of her body. A body he now knew better than his own. Its scent. Its varied flavors. Its devastatingly precious warmth.
Reule threw aside his cloak and gloves and crossed the floor to her in three huge strides. He swept her up against him, capturing her mouth. She reached up instantly, unquestioningly, and grasped him by the back of his neck, opening her mouth for him. His hands tightened on her desperately as he filled himself with her taste and drew her warmth into himself. He felt as though he’d crossed the world, rather than the city, to reach her. It was as though their days of lovemaking had happened in another lifetime, rather than having ended a few short hours ago.
When he’d had his momentary fill of her mouth, he buried his face against her neck and drew deep breaths full of her sweet scent. “Mystique,” he exhaled, her name shuddering out of him, his eyes closed against the sudden burn within them.
“Reule, please,” she begged softly, her hands stroking through his hair, “you’re frightening me.”
It was the last thing he’d wanted to do. He’d wanted to reassure her, tell her that she need never fear anyone again, just as he’d promised her. But it would have been a lie. There was someone for her to fear.
Herself.
Whatever had happened, Mystique had blocked it out with a vengeance. Knowing her now, knowing her heart and her need to rescue the lives of others, there was one act that could so destroy her psyche that she’d repress it with everything she was.
Taking the life of another.
Oh, she had the courage to do it if she were pushed to the sticking point, of that he had no doubt. But doing a thing and accepting it were two different issues. Now realization and acceptance were imminent, and he didn’t want to tell her. He’d sensed that it’d be better if she never remembered, and he’d been right. To drive her to murder, the circumstances would have to have been…unimaginable. It shredded his heart to think of it.
“Remember one thing,” he whispered roughly against her neck. “I should have said it before, but I’m a man, and that makes me two parts fool and one part genius. My brilliant part loves you with all of his heart, Mystique. The fool parts as well, only they never know the right time to admit it.” He pulled away to look into her stunned eyes, blinking back emotion. “Do you hear me? I love you as you are now, as you were before, and as whatever you become in the future. You have my heart and always have. Since the moment I first felt your sadness and knew that someone who could hurt so deeply had to also be capable of equal amounts of joy, love, and passion. And I was right. I was so right.”
He caught her startled mouth again in a slow, tender kiss. He waited until he felt her melt bonelessly against his body, then closed his eyes and turned himself over to the emotion rushing through him. By the time he finally lifted from her swollen lips, she was hardly holding up any of her own weight, and her slumberous eyes glittered.
“Reule,” she said with breathy wonder. She reached up to cradle his face in her small hands, her bemused smile so sweet it hurt. “Tell me what happened. Don’t bear your trials without me. I will be your wife and—”
“You are my wife. In every sense that matters.” He grasped her waist tightly, squeezing for emphasis. “Remember that, Mystique. You are my wife. My queen. And all will treat you as such or they will answer to me.”
Mystique felt the sudden rush of icy dread in every vein of her body. Her breath came quick and her eyes rounded with fear as she began to understand.
“Who?” she whispered. “Who has come for me?”
Reule wanted to curse himself and all of his fate for doing this to her, but he couldn’t when it was fate that had brought her to him. He decided to be as direct as always. “They call themselves the Yesu. They have your coloring of skin and seem, for the most part, a fair and pleasant people. A mountain tribal clan. I’ve never heard of them before, but I read them as honest and well-intentioned.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
“They’ve come in search of a criminal they tracked to this wilderness.” He took a breath to steel himself. “A murderess.”
Mystique blinked up at him and he grasped her mind. He heard no thoughts, only felt the stunning impact of his words.
And then she laughed. A single sharp burst of humorless laughter. She wrenched herself free of his hold, stumbling back. She turned and clung to a chair for support. Her dazed eyes searched the room, as if to find the answers she’d been seeking all this time. She laughed again, but this time he heard the hysteria creeping into it.
“Mystique, an accusation doesn’t make a truth,” he reminded her gently. He stepped toward her, but she jerked and raised a defensive palm to keep him at bay. The wall it flung up between them stung, but he wrestled the emotion aside. Her need must take precedence here. “Baby, listen to me. I haven’t even spoken to them yet. They’re being settled in the city. The leaders will be brought to Jeth Keep.”
“What if—”
“No!” He barked it out so hard that she jumped. “Do you hear me, kébé? You’re safe here. You’ll meet your accusers on my arm, as my Prima, and you’ll damn well act the part! I don’t care who they say or think they are, you’re my wife. You’ll be treated as such or there will be an answer for it. I won’t hide you and I won’t act ashamed, and by the Lord, neither will you!”
She blinked at him, finally realizing what he’d been trying to say to her this entire time. It didn’t matter. None of it. She could have slaughtered a dozen men, and it didn’t matter to him. He loved her, and that was all he needed to know.
Mystique threw a hand up to her mouth to stifle a hard sob. In the next instant he was there, gathering her up against the steady strength of his body. “Stop,” he commanded her gently. “You wouldn’t be capable of slaughtering a dozen men, k�
�bé. For starters, despite your spit and fire, you’re far too tiny to pull that off.”
She laughed weakly and dropped her head against his chest, clutching at his vest. “You make jokes now?”
“When better? I can’t bear it when you cry, love. I’d rather make you laugh.”
Mystique didn’t know which one she wanted to do more. She was holding in giggles and sobs and was too overwhelmed to keep either to herself. He chuckled softly as she gave in to both, grasping him as though she were afraid he’d disappear. He cradled her close as he let her sort through her vacillating emotions. He wasn’t expecting her to suddenly leap for his mouth. They bumped roughly. She was teary-eyed and sniffling, but she was committed to the kiss. So he let her pull him down into the bliss of her soft lips and seeking tongue.
He didn’t necessarily like that there was fear behind her need, but he understood it. Nevertheless, he didn’t want her thinking she’d earn his support through the value of her body. He swept her up in his arms and found them a seat, keeping her mouth the entire time. He eased her away after a few minutes, ignoring her protestations. He wanted her, he always wanted her, but not this way.
“Listen to me, kébé,” he said firmly, boring his gaze into hers, “you’ve nothing to be afraid of. No one is going to abandon you or betray you. As much as I love to love you, in a little while we’ll be greeting the first outlander guests to come peacefully to this keep. It’s an important moment for this Sánge tribe. But it means nothing if they think to threaten you. Do you understand? I don’t need to love your body to remind myself that I’m loyal to you above all others, Mystique.”
“But over your tribe?”
“You are part of my tribe now, baby. Don’t you understand that yet? You are Sánge now. A Sánge queen. A Sánge tribe protects its every last member with all they are. Needless to say, the Prime, Prima, and Pack get twice that effort.”
“Twice ‘all they are’?” She tried to resist, but she had to laugh. “Is that even possible?”
“Hopefully we won’t have to find out. I plan on settling this as peacefully as possible. Now, I want to dress you good and proper. You’ll be holding your head very high when you face your accusers, my love. Para is waiting in your room. Liandra as well. You will look the Prima.”
“And not the kébé?”
“You’ll be all that and more. For me. Forever. But this is about making an impressive, united appearance in the midst of a power struggle. I won’t have them thinking I’m ashamed of you, or you of yourself.”
“I’m not ashamed,” she said, her chin lifting stubbornly. “And whatever happened, I was the one who ended up lying half dead in the wilderness.” She spoke strongly, only the twisting of her fingers giving away her nervousness. He caught them in his hands.
“Kébé, it’s very likely that they’re ’pathic. Guard your emotions and thoughts. You’re good at keeping others out when you put your mind to it.”
“I know I can.”
He grasped her chin and tilted her up for his kiss. “I’ll come back to get you after I speak with the Pack. There will be a banquet tonight, so save your best dress for that, but second best for this greeting. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“I say the black with the city seals,” Para argued as she continued to braid and loop Mystique’s hair into an intricate coif. They’d agreed no jewels, since it was still daylight and it would be unlikely the lady of the keep ran about fully bedecked. Instead, a simple wire of gold would crown her when they were done, dangling tiny rubies and charms against her forehead. She’d been told it had been Reule’s mother’s favorite. That meant everything to her as her reckoning approached. She wished she could have known the previous Prima.
“No. She wore that already.” Liandra dismissed it with a wave. “Tonight she will wear the fur gown. It’s perfect. Pale and gray. An angelic softness. She’ll be a fairy queen.”
“Yes,” Mystique agreed. “You’re right. I could wear the black with the seals to greet.”
“No. No black,” Liandra argued sharply. “It has a shadowy, sinister feel to it. Again, we’ll do light colors. This one!”
She pulled it out and Para gasped, part scandalized and part delighted.
“During mourning?” she cried.
“Oh, to hell with that,” Lia scoffed. “He was my brother and I say wear the damn dress and knock their boots off.”
Lothas was comfortably ensconced, with the four other ranking men of the hunting party, in a large and beautiful parlor that displayed an eye for balance, taste, and a great deal of wealth. Quality was present without being garishly flaunted, and Lothas liked that. There were no attempts at pretension, nor did he feel as though this were part of an effort to impress. They’d been treated with a careful measure of respect, an understandable wariness considering how most people treated the Sánge, but also an enthusiastic curiosity.
The five men remained standing as a matter of respect, waiting for their host and hostess, the Prime and Prima of Jeth Province, to arrive before taking their ease. Lothas hadn’t heard that the Prime had taken a bride until a few minutes ago, and he knew he must remember to find a suitable gift of respect to honor the event if he thought to make an ally of Jeth’s Prime.
Lothas glanced at his companions, his gaze resting on Knar. Since he was the impetus behind this manhunt, the man ought to be pleased with the distinct progress they’d made since the snows had fallen. The blizzard had been uncannily propitious. Since the Yesu only traveled on the ice and snow of their homeland, they only came to the lowlands for trade and other purposes when it snowed. The storm had allowed them to pick up the trail of the criminal Knar sought. However, Lothas saw little appreciation in the surly Middle King. They were lucky to break their journey in comfort and welcome while combining the interlude with information gathering.
Besides, High King Derrik had been considering the opportunity of opening trade agreements with the Sánge for some time now. Though the Yesu were a severely reclusive society, there was no denying the value of the grains and crops that the Sánge bravely cultivated in this wild place. The Sánge were also well defended and situated in this valley, their Prime clearly a very clever man who had planned his city very carefully for the sake of security. In the event someone should threaten the Yesu, allies like the Sánge could be a strong front of protection and warning.
Their reception so far had been a friendly one. He’d heard that this tribe was neutral in both trade and behavior. The only people they had steady hostility toward were the Jakals. But the gypsy empaths were vicious little rodents, and if not for the depths of the icy mountains protecting them, the Yesu might have trouble with them as well.
Lothas heard the turn of the door latch, and he stepped forward to greet his host. The double doors were pushed open by a dignified male attendant who quickly stepped aside. This movement revealed a large, impressive male Sánge with dense black hair hanging in a shaggy halo down to his shoulders. His deeply tanned complexion was startling to the mountain clan males, but it made Lothas smile. The windblown cold and the sun reflecting off ice and snow gave the Yesu males ruddy faces, but otherwise they were pale. It was a difference to be admired.
Lothas had seen but a glimpse of this male at the wall. Now the dignity of his dress and the bold assuredness of his stance broadcast his security in his power. A formidable, respectable man, Lothas thought with approval.
Then the Sánge Prime held out his hand to his left, just beyond Lothas’s line of sight, and the golden-gloved hand of a woman settled gently into it. The woman he drew to his side drew a collective gasp from all five Yesu. That she wasn’t Sánge was instantly obvious from her porcelain-perfect skin. Lothas was the most traveled of all of his people, his position taking him far and wide on behalf of King Derrik, and though he found them to be unique and even exotic, he rarely found women beyond his own species to be beautiful. He supposed this woman was the exception, because she could easily have been Yesu with
her familiar coloring.
She was small and delicate, a tad too thin perhaps for his tastes. However, she was still quite dazzling in a high-waisted gown that seemed to be made of pure gold. It gleamed and sparkled as its skirts swished around her hips and ankles, a graceful, short train of gold lace trailing behind her. He appreciated her intricately dressed hair, its deep red color unique. She wore a simple circlet of gold wire in her hair, possibly a mark of her station. The Prima of Jeth. She looked every inch the queen she was, and there was a moment when Prime and Prima’s gazes met, a long heartbeat of obvious bonding and devotion snapping between them, and then they moved forward into the parlor.
“Pretentious, murdering slut!”
The exclamation shattered the moment into millions of terrible pieces, and even as Lothas turned in fury to address Knar’s horrifying outburst, he noticed in his peripheral vision that Prime Reule drew his bride close to his side in protection, almost as though he’d expected this unruly behavior. Lothas reached out in just enough time to slam a hand open-palmed into the chest of the wildly advancing Middle King, halting him in his tracks as he tried, of all things, to lunge for the Prima. Even if Lothas hadn’t stopped him, Knar never would have made it. Out of nowhere, two sturdy-looking Sánge, one light-haired and one dark, stood between their leaders and the contingent of guests.
“Lothas, you fool! Don’t you see? That’s her! Posing as a queen, for the love of the gods! You murderess bitch! You’ll pay for what you’ve done!”
“Knar! Shut up!”
Lothas’s bellow right in Knar’s face had the Middle King drawing back sharply at last. “How dare you speak to me in such a way! You’re here at Derrik’s command and for my benefit. This is your duty! You were sent to bring my son’s murderer to justice, and there she stands!”
Knar swung a meaty finger up to point in the Prima’s direction. It drew Lothas’s attention to the royal couple just in time to see the threatening storm of fury building in the Prime’s narrowed eyes. Feeling the situation rapidly declining out of all control, Lothas turned furiously on Knar.
Drink of Me Page 29
