Star-Crossed

by Cyndi Friberg

  He hated to leave her like this, but the sooner he gathered information, the sooner he could teach her how to control her jumanna magic. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  Leaving the tent flap folded back so he could see her, he stepped outside. A Fire Pearl. He shook his head. Even having sensed her awakening, he struggled to believe she was a jumanna. This complicated everything.

  He kept her in his peripheral vision as he summoned the metaphysical plane. He had advanced beyond the need for visualizations many centuries before. It was only when he was depleted or emotionally torn that he fell back on the standard technique for controlling the metaphysical plane.

  Indric waited for him in the twilight glen, his hands clasped behind his back. “What can I do for you? I expected you to be extremely busy for the next several days.”

  “Tell me everything you know about the jumanna.”

  His attempt to disguise his smirk as surprise failed utterly. “I was right, wasn’t I? You stumbled upon a Fire Pearl.”

  “You are the only person I know who has ... interacted with one.”

  Indric laughed and slapped Drakkin on the back. “I suspect that will change very soon.”

  “When did you meet this woman?” Drakkin asked. “What was her situation?”

  “The jumanna generally choose one of two paths. They bond with a powerful mate and interact exclusively with him or they interact with whoever most benefits from the, um interaction.”

  Drakkin blew out a ragged breath. “Aria was raised by a space pet. I suspect she’ll have no interest in the second scenario.”

  “And the possessive fire burning in your eyes has nothing to do with that prediction?” Indric relaxed his expression until only a hint of amusement remained in his gold-ringed eyes. “Obviously the jumanna I encountered was willing to infuse anyone who needed her. She was revered and respected. Not a bad way to go through life.”

  “If the jumanna chooses to bond, is her life mate the only one who benefits from her abilities?”

  “That depends on her mate. If she bound herself to someone unable to transfer energy, then her gift would be wasted. That won’t be a problem with you.”

  Drakkin didn’t argue. Even before he’d touched Aria, he’d felt the hunter stir. Only with Fetima, his second wife, had he surrendered to the ancient portion of his soul that demanded a mate. Once awakened, the hunter couldn’t be silenced until the bond was formed.

  “I must meditate. Will you guard her until I return?”

  “Of course.”

  * * * * *

  Aria tugged on the wrist cuffs’ clasp with her teeth, an exasperated growl escaping her throat. How could Drakkin do this to her? At least with Faujer she’d found a way to relieve the tension. Not that the tension Faujer created in any way compared with the desire making her blood boil. Hot, restless, savage. She felt as if her body were reengineering itself from the inside out.

  “The cuffs are secured by a specific energy pattern.” She heard a deep male voice tell her. “Only the same pattern can release them.”

  She looked over her shoulder and froze. This was her guard? Tall, dark, and dangerous didn’t begin to describe this man. His raven-black hair was highlighted with glistening strands. The thick mass flowed past his shoulders and down his back. Were the strands silver or gold? The rings encircling his pupils ignited, bathing his features in a warm light. Gold, definitely gold. She waited for her need to escalate. Her brain registered his physical appeal, yet her desire remained at an uncomfortable simmer.

  “Where’s Drakkin?”

  “He’ll return shortly.” He moved further into the tent, staying well back from the bed. “I’m Indric of San Adrin. Drakkin neglected to tell me your name.”

  “Apparently it’s Slave.” She raised her wrists with a disgruntled glare. “Can you create a light source other than your eyes?”

  “It’s probably better if I don’t.” The golden glow decreased, leaving his face in shadow. “Drakkin is one of the few people who trust me without reservation. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Aria laughed. “You don’t think I can withstand the temptation of --”

  “I saw you briefly before your abilities were awakened. It’s my determination that I’d rather not test.”

  His words sent a thrill through Aria, but uncertainty followed in its wake. She’d always felt odd and self-conscious, even before her sojourn on Earth. “Will everyone on Bilarri know what I am simply by looking at me?”

  “Yours is a rare and coveted gift. You must learn to be wary.” He picked up one of the backless chairs and moved it closer to the bed.

  “I don’t think that will be a problem.” His candor soothed her, allowing her to relax. “My name is Aria.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you, Aria.”

  “Drakkin said one of his wives was your sister. Is that how you met him?”

  “Drakkin is a Chae Tra Lyn. Training brought him to the desert.”

  “I’m unfamiliar with that term.” Each time he spoke, a bit of her urgency eased. At first she’d thought it was simply his relaxed manner. Now she wasn’t so sure. “Are you ... doing something with your voice?”

  He chuckled and soothing warmth surrounded her. “It’s only a temporary reprieve, but I’m glad it’s working.”

  “Tell me about Drakkin’s training.” She drew her legs up under her dress and hooked her arms around her knees.

  “Bilarri is separated into four regions. Drakkin’s family rules the Mountains of Hautell. He was expected to succeed his father, but fate had other plans. Only those who are generously empowered are presented to the Guild Masters. It is an honor to be accepted by even one. Drakkin was accepted by all four.”

  “Four regions and four Guilds. Does each Guild represent a region?”

  He smiled. His even white teeth were visible for a moment in the dim light. “Very good. Each Guild represents a region and each region honors a different element.”

  “Then the Guild Masters manipulate elemental magic.” She rested her chin on her knees, thankful for the distraction.

  “All magic is elemental, but your assessment is correct.”

  “You said Drakkin was accepted by all four Guilds. He can manipulate all four elements?”

  “To an extent. Drakkin was born of the Hautell Mountains, so his true element is earth.”

  “Which element do you honor?”

  “Air or wind. That’s what brought Drakkin to my camp. He came to train with the Master of the San Adrin Guild.”

  “Your camp? Does your family rule the desert?”

  The flap opened and light illuminated the tent. “Thank you, Indric. I’m again in your debt.”

  Indric stood and crossed to Drakkin. “We’re beyond keeping score.”

  Aria’s curious gaze darted between Indric and Drakkin. Their height and build were similar. Indric’s hair was much longer, his beard adding an air of mystery. Drakkin’s features were more sculpted and his fierce gaze made her pulse race and her skin tingle.

  “She’s dangerously perceptive, my friend. Guard her well.” Indric ducked out of the tent as Drakkin crossed to the bed.

  “What did the Symposium have to say?” She scooted over, making room for him beside her. The tether rattled and the banked heat inside her kicked up a notch.

  “Noll participated in the Seeker Circle convened to locate Evan.” He raised his hand to touch her face, then lowered it.

  “Her skills aren’t as impressive as her treachery.”

  “There has been speculation that her mother had a Bilarrian lover. If Noll is the product of that liaison, her abilities might be unusual.”

  “If her father is Bilarrian, why would she hate me?”

  “She was raised in the House of Joon, taught to resent and mistrust the House of Aune.”

  “I didn’t realize gossip was recorded in the Wisdom of the Ages.”

  He captured a lock of her hair and wound it around his finger. “That
bit of speculation came from Tal, Charlotte’s life mate. He told me Vee never put much stock in the rumors, because Noll’s behavior had been exemplary.”

  Aria didn’t comment. If the blood feud still raged between their families, Noll had every reason to align with the Rodytes. There could be no other explanation for what had transpired in the dressing room. “What did you learn about me?”

  “Balancing Bilarrian and Ontarian techniques will provide the quickest result. You’re clearly a jumanna, but many Ontarians experience a sudden and violent increase in their Mystic abilities as well. What you’re experiencing could be either or a combination of both.”

  “Makes sense.” She fiddled with the thin metal tether. Had Drakkin really thought she might try and seduce his friend? Indric was handsome enough, and she appreciated his soothing voice, but all her fantasies revolved around one man. And it wasn’t Indric. “He’s a ruler of some sort, isn’t he?”

  “Indric?” She nodded. “He’s prince regent. Once crowned a San Adrin king is king for life. Actual rule, however, can be passed on to his heir while the king is still alive. Why do you ask?”

  “What does Shaw Trey Lyn mean?”

  Ignoring the restraints, he pulled her hands into his lap and stroked her fingers. “What were you talking about while I was gone?”

  “You, mostly. Did I slaughter the word?”

  “You were close. Chae Tra means master. A Chae Tra Lyn is a Guild Master. Only those who have completed training with all four Guilds are awarded that title.”

  “I’m impressed. How long did you train with each Guild?”

  “It varied. Some skills are easier to master than others. Around a hundred years.”

  “Talk about commitment.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but even his casual touch was stoking the heat, building the fire.

  “How do you feel?” His gaze searched her face and swept down to her breasts and back.

  “Indric hypnotized me with that voice of his. I feel almost dreamy at the moment.” It wasn’t a lie, more of an exaggeration.

  He smiled and supported her back as she lay down. “Let’s take advantage of your calm. I want to teach you a basic skill.”

  Will you kiss me if I get it right?

  He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re trouble, no doubt about it. I was going to offer to release your hands, but if you’d rather be kissed ...” Cupping the side of her face, he brushed his lips against hers. He only indulged her for a moment before he pulled away. “Indric’s spell won’t last long. We really should get started.”

  “What do you want me to do?” She raised her arms above her head and arched her back, knowing it thrust her breasts against the thin fabric of her gown.

  “Close your eyes and allow me to link with you.”

  She grinned and lowered her lids. “I’ve been trying to get you to link with me since we got here.”

  “Soon.” He paused, shifting so he lay beside her. “The metaphysical plane is that place inside you and around you where Mystic energy can be gathered and manipulated.” He spoke the words aloud, but his mind reached out to hers reinforcing his speech with thought. She welcomed him, craving the intimacy of having any portion of him inside her. “That’s right. Now, think of a place where you’ve known only joy, a safe place, where you are happy.”

  Without conscious thought, she imagined a wide stage and the tiered seats beyond. He chuckled and she paused. “Is this not acceptable?”

  “This is a starting point, a visual aid to help you focus your power. Before long you won’t require the visualization. Let’s push a little harder. Picture me there with you.” Picturing him was easy. He was never far from her mind. He walked out from stage left and she held out her hand, offering him a smile. “You learn quickly.” He kissed her knuckles, then nodded toward the lights. “Let’s try some control exercises. Raise and lower the lights. Once you can do so effortlessly, try changing the colors.”

  The rest became a blur of repetition and concentration. They spent hours on the metaphysical plane as she worked to control the flow of energy. Brighter lights required more power. Dimming the lights taught her how to maintain a slow, even stream. When she tired, he kissed her, passing energy across a “liplink.”

  They slept in each others arms, staring up at the stars. It took her several days to realize he pushed her until they were both completely exhausted before he allowed her to release the visualization. Though attraction arced between them each time they touched, the sexual cravings hadn’t returned. Aria wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

  Toward the end of the third day, they sat on the edge of the stage, his hand absently stroking her back. “Are you ready for a new exercise?”

  “Does this one involve orgasms?” she said with a half-smile.

  He curved his finger beneath her chin and turned her head until she looked into his eyes. “Your power is still unstable. If I make love to you now, we could bond unintentionally. Bonding with a Bilarrian is a lifelong commitment. I won’t enter into it until we’re both sure of our feelings.”

  She accepted the explanation with a stiff nod. He was right. It was better if they waited. Still, sleeping with him, touching him every night without consummating their attraction was testing the limits of her sanity.

  “What’s the new exercise?”

  “Picture every door in the theater, even the ones backstage.”

  “All right.”

  “Are there any windows?”

  “No.”

  “I want you to lock them, seal them. Let nothing in or out.”

  She did as he instructed, channeling energy toward the exits to form the seal. “Now what?”

  “I’m going to try and push through. Your thoughts are shielded naturally, but this is different.” His hand moved to the nape of her neck and pressure build inside her mind. “Can you handle more?”

  She nodded, bracing herself for an increase in pressure. Mist swirled toward the exit on her right, seeping out around the door. She diverted energy, intensifying the seal and the mist evaporated.

  “Very good.” Taking her hands in his, he pulled her to her feet. “Not everyone will attack with a battering ram. Many will use stealth and trickery.”

  Chapter Seven

  Drakkin watched Aria sleep, aching to claim her with every fiber of his being. The hunter twisted, agitated and ravenous. Only through strict discipline and four hundred years of training had he been able to control his elemental power and temper his primal urges.

  Mine! How could such a fragile female create such savage desires?

  His search of the archives had been useless. A union between an Ontarian and a Rodyte had never produced a jumanna before. He’d studied every entry about the jumanna and cross-referenced it with similar abilities in Ontarians. He found nothing. She was unique.

  He trailed his index finger along her hairline and across her smooth brow. One thing was certain, her power would spike each time she found release until her gift stabilized. She was learning quickly. He just wasn’t certain she could withstand a sudden blast of Mystic energy. Unfortunately, they were running out of time.

  If Noll had sensed the temporal distortion when she was in Aria’s dressing room, the Rodyte spy would know where they would emerge. Unless they were willing to remain out of sync forever, he needed to push on, to complete Aria’s awakening.

  He stroked her velvety cheek with the backs of his finger. This night would test his control like never before. Could he arouse her, feel her tremble and hear her moan without succumbing to his instinctual need to claim his mate? He knew she desired him physically. Still, he wanted her to be comfortable with her true self before she considered becoming his life mate.

  He disintegrated his linen pants with an impatient thought, then focused entirely on her. She wore a filmy gown that drooped off one shoulder and exposed the upper swell of her breasts. He smiled as her indignant expression replayed through his mind. She’d demanded something les
s revealing until the gossamer material settled against her skin.

  With a small tug, he drew the material down and revealed one of her nipples. Even in the moonlight the soft peak appeared red. He lowered his head and caught the bud between his lips. Curving his fingers around the fullness of her breast, he breathed in her scent and felt her nipple harden against his tongue. Her skin was soft, her nipple warm and delightfully responsive. She stirred at his gentle suckling, threading his hair through her fingers and whispering his name.

  “Is it finally time?” she murmured sleepily.

  “I think you’ll like this exercise.” He released her nipple long enough to blow warm breath over her moist skin. “Let’s see how much your control has improved.”

  She shivered and unfastened the straps, freeing the top of her gown. “Just don’t stop touching me.”

  He lowered the material to her waist and paused, mesmerized by her beauty. She arched into his touch, her nipples hard little points. He cupped one breast and bent to taste the other. The hunter stirred, hardening his shaft and urging him onward. He suckled one nipple, then the other. Her skin flushed and her nipples grew hot against his tongue.

  “Kiss me, Drakkin,” she whispered.

  The thought of kissing her had haunted him ever since Indric planted the suggestion in his brain. He knelt beside her and took the bunched material in both hands. “Lift your hips, love. I want you naked tonight.”

  Her breath hitched and her eyes widened, still she obediently lifted her bottom. He swept the gown down her legs and pulled it free. Tension banded his chest and tenderness clogged his throat. He wanted everything all at once, yet he wanted to please her most of all. For years she’d been treated like an object, and then a novelty. He wanted to make her feel special, cherished, and safe.

  After thoroughly exploring her lips, he kissed his way down her throat, between her breasts, and onto her silken tummy. She quivered and gasped, her hands balled at her sides. Realization unfurled and anger stabbed into his heart. That bastard Faujer had never done this for her, had never seen to her pleasure before he selfishly sought his own. Drakkin shouldn’t be surprised. She’d warned him that sex with Faujer had been an obligation.