Hers to Claim (Verdantia Book 4)

by Patricia A. Knight

  “Oh, no, no, no, no!” She flipped on his lap and tried to tear out of his arms. Just under the surface of the water, a brilliantly colored flutter signaled the approach of a living organism.

  “Be still. You’re frightening them.”

  “Them! I’m frightening them?” she squeaked, her legs and arms thrashing.

  “The miku amar won’t hurt you. Quite the opposite. Stop your flailing.”

  Hel’s arm bound her back to his chest like an iron band. She’d little choice but to watch as two aquatic creatures, one indigo blue and the other fuchsia pink, bobbed in their direction. The size of Hel’s fist, the brilliantly colored organisms propelled themselves through the clear water with contractions of multiple tentacles and ripples of delicate frilled edges. The pair floated in the water just out of reach, their intertwined tentacles waving in the subtle current.

  “Be still and let them approach, Nia. They won’t hurt you. Look.” Hel extended his hand, palm up, and held it motionless. By slow increments, the iridescent blue creature approached and hovered over his palm. A tentacle dropped to wrap around Hel’s thumb as others explored his fingers and wrist. With a shivering ripple, the creature lowered to fill his hand, the frills around its circumference fluttering rapidly. At Hel’s low groan of pleasure, Nia tore her eyes from his hand to peer at his face. He wore an expression of relaxed bliss. “I’d forgotten how good that can feel.” Hel nodded his head to the brilliant pink creature still holding in place just out of reach. “Hold your hand out. Invite her to you.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Nia.”

  His tone brooked no disobedience. She extended a trembling arm and opened her hand cautiously. Long moments passed and the small pink thing floated, neither closer nor farther, its tentacles waving as if it were tasting the water.

  “It won’t come to me, Hel. Can I put my hand down?”

  “It’s not an it, Nia. That beautiful, delicate organism is a she. Give her some time. They are empathic creatures. She’s literally as frightened as you are.”

  “Oh.” Adonia relaxed against Hel. “Poor thing. If she’s as frightened as me, then she’s pretty scared.” Somehow, that realization made all the difference and Adonia could feel her apprehension vanish. “What did you call them?”

  “Miku amar. In the old Engalian form, their name translates as ‘companions in love’. The pheromones we give off during arousal attract the miku amar. This pair has been here since I can remember.”

  With her arm extended to its fullest, she gently waved her fingers at the small creature. “Come here, pretty one. I’ll try not to be frightened.”

  Slowly, with one tentative bobbing swoosh after another, the creature drew nearer and nearer until Adonia could feel the soft touch of a tentacle at the base of her thumb. The tickling pleasure was intense. With uneasy astonishment, she realized the impressions turned sensual. One after another, magenta pink tentacles feathered down onto her palm and traced lines of erotic thrill across her skin. The arousal her fear had killed rushed back. A yearning rose in her mind for a more intimate contact, for a complete knowing. As the female miku amar settled into the sensitive flesh of her palm, Adonia realized that the feelings emanated from the small creature.

  “I thought she’d be slimy. She is delightful—petal soft and she vibrates. I think she’s purring.” Adonia couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. “You’d never believe where I feel it.” Adonia glanced up at Hel.

  He shook his head at her with a soft laugh. “I’d believe you. She experiences what you feel and shares those emotions with her mate. Through him, I know exactly what you are feeling. The blue male formed a life-bond with me when I was young. His female should have life-bonded with Athena. To her vast irritation, my wife never could entice the miku amar to her.”

  “Why do you suppose?”

  “I don’t know, Nia. The miku amar are telepathic empaths. Perhaps something in Athena repelled the female.” Adonia saw all warmth leave Hel’s eyes. The soft ripples of the male’s frills stopped, and Hel stroked the back of the small creature with a gentle fingertip. “I brought Athena here twice when we were first joined. After the second time, my lady wife refused to return. She said she’d be damned if she’d have her character judged and found wanting by a primitive invertebrate.”

  Adonia felt a wave of melancholy. Were those Hel’s feelings?

  “I returned my male to this cavern. I would never separate him from his female. To live without the warmth of a mate is a lonely existence.”

  Adonia got another glimpse into the life Hel had lived. No matter that he’d had a wife and children, this man had known prolonged loneliness. “The miku amar can live out of the water?”

  “Yes. They are symbiots. They need a human bond to complete their reproductive cycle. When your empathic bond is complete, your female can live on your life force indefinitely—in or out of water.”

  “What completes the bond?”

  The wicked gleam sparking in Hel’s eyes put Adonia on guard.

  “Your orgasm. Specifically, your orgasm with the human her male has life-bonded to.”

  “You.”

  His teeth nipped delicately at the crook of her neck. “Umm-hmm. Me. Turn around, Nia.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hel rocked back in his chair at the dining table and smiled at Nia. Her shy smile in return was the first overt emotion she’d displayed since leaving the grotto and a stunning second round of sex.

  “To experience your partner’s emotions, to feel their pleasure combined with yours, adds intensity to sex. Now you know why we prize the miku amar, and keep them secret,” Hel said.

  Amusement lit her eyes. “Yes, the entire population of Verdantia would storm the Grotta D’oro if they knew.” She ducked her head and shifted in her chair. Her hands rubbed her upper arms. “I found the experience somewhat…overwhelming. I hope no one heard.”

  Hel dropped his head back and laughed. His delightful Nia was a screamer, and the cavern’s acoustics amplified all sound. He could reassure her they were too far underground to be heard, but he wasn’t certain that was the truth, and he would hate lying to her.

  Had it not been for his miku amar, he would never have guessed at the roiling emotions that seethed beneath her diffident exterior. Surprise, confusion, inadequacy, hope—all cycled through her mind as companions to an overwhelming sense of curiosity. No fear. That’s good. He wondered what she felt from him through her fledgling bond with the pink female. Hopefully, immense satisfaction with my healer.

  Warmer than body-temperature, the gel-like miku amar cradled his cock and balls in a gentle tease of an embrace. Always a seeker of heat and attracted to Hel’s sexual pheromones, the blue male had entwined itself about his genitals and anchored itself with tentacles that wrapped his upper thighs, buttock cheeks and waist with elongated, paper-thin tendrils of immense strength. It was disturbingly comfortable. Hel laughed inwardly at his mental image of his cock and balls suspended in a bath of warm, supportive gelatin—definitely a pleasant feeling. Athena had snorted derisively at his constant semi-arousal—as if that male family trait was a curse. If blessed with a welcoming partner, his insatiable libido was a boon. Hel grimaced. One more reason he’d returned his miku amar to Grotta D’oro in years past. Athena’s perfunctory cooperation never qualified as welcoming, and he’d confined his interaction with her to the minimum required by the rites. Shifting in his chair, Hel considered Nia. I wonder what part of Nia’s anatomy her female has chosen to nest on?

  “We wait for Lord Ramsey and Steffania? I’ve not seen any sign of them all day. Where have they been?”

  “I asked Lord Ramsey and Steffania to re-establish the western perimeter. That required they empower a number of diaman crystals prior to leaving. I… Ah, here they are now.”

  Hel congratulated himself on assigning Ramsey the rooms furthest from the family living areas. Otherwise, he was certain Nia would have heard them. Ramsey and Steffani
a enjoyed a robust—and vocal—intimate life. A wry smile fleeted across his lips. Before he finished with Nia, she would be making similar sounds.

  A boneless Steffania oozed through the door and molded into a chair with a slight wince. Through half-lidded golden eyes, she regarded them with a somnolent smile and a nod. Ramsey followed close on her heels and sprawled, loose-limbed, into a chair next to her. Hel watched with amusement as Ram picked up one of Steffania’s hands, kissed the back of it and lowered it to his lap. Her wrists bore the marks of a rope.

  “So DeKieran…do you leave in the morning or do you require another day?”

  “We applied ourselves. We leave in the morning,” Ram murmured, deadpan. “I ran into Bernard, and he promised to have supplies enough for two weeks packed for us. He seemed to think it would be sufficient.”

  A light rap on the door announced the entrance of a servant bearing a small haunch of some animal and more potatoes.

  “You can leave it on the table; we’ll serve ourselves,” Hel instructed. With a nod of respect, the servant did as he requested and left the four of them alone in the dining room.

  Ramsey eyed the platter suspiciously. “That bears an uncanny resemblance to lunch and lunch bore an uncanny resemblance to breakfast. I’m going to come away from here hating potatoes.” He helped himself and Steffania to small portions.

  Hel snorted softly. He shared Ram’s feelings. “If you get lucky, you will find some game to supplement your diet.”

  He served Adonia and then himself. As they ate, he and Ram discussed the trip to the western border. Neither woman uttered a word.

  Ram swallowed a long draught of brew and placed his mug back on the table. “Well, at least the drink is palatable.” The old chair creaked as Ram rocked back and straightened his booted legs, crossing them at the ankles. Hel wondered what went on behind those wolf-like eyes that examined him so thoughtfully.

  “Did you discover anything written on the tower?” Ram said.

  The sour taste of frustration filled Hel’s mouth. He shook his head. “No. When I left to find Adonia, the men had scoured the first two outside levels and were extending the scaffolding further. I met a similar lack of success inside.”

  A crooked smile tipped Ram’s lips. “And what did you do to exhaust our lady healer?”

  Hel followed Ramsey’s gaze. Ah, the poor girl. Nia’s cheek rested in the crook of her arm on the table next to her plate with her left hand closed loosely around her fork. A slice of potato dangled precariously from a tine. Her eyelashes curved in black commas above the sharp edges of her cheekbones and her rib cage rose and fell on soft inhales and exhales. Hel pushed his chair back from the table and rose, as did Ramsey. “I think this is a signal for an early night. I’ll see you in the morning before you leave.”

  Hel slipped the fork from Nia’s hand and picked her slight body up easily. She never roused—not even when he stripped her and laid her in his bed. A smile tipped his lips, and he traced a caress over the pink miku amar. I thought you’d nestle there. She’s not going to like that, you know. He climbed in next to Nia and pulled her into his arms. The intimacy of bare skin on skin soothed his soul and the quiet of Nyth Uchel settled a blanket of strange serenity over him. Wry amusement tugged at his mouth. Nia would, no doubt, disbelieve him, but he couldn’t resurrect a memory of a time his bed had held an adult woman. Athena had insisted on her own quarters. Once his younger self had shed his disillusionment about their marriage, he’d welcomed the solitude.

  Memories of his daughter and son’s little bodies nested against him in this bed returned him to happier days, and, for the first time in years, Hel welcomed the bittersweet recollections with a faint smile. His children would have adored Nia. It seemed irresponsible to picture a life with her when the whole of Verdantia faced an unnamed darkness—and yet the woman in his arms promised more than simple survival and a loveless future. His eyes wandered the face of the precious being snugged tight against his chest. “You were wonderful today. You are my touchstone for hope tomorrow will be better. I haven’t felt so in many years.” Of course, she gave no response. “We must defeat this encroaching darkness. I will have that tomorrow with you, Nia.” Hel closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him.

  ~~~

  Adonia jerked the material of her long gown out from under the ball of her foot and mentally castigated the gods-be-damned alpha male who had sentenced her to impractical dresses—though her little-indulged feminine side secretly preened at the glorious clothes. The moss green and gold ensemble Hel had laced her into this morning, which her meager breasts threatened to fall out of, befitted a woman of leisure—not one whose long strides tangled in the sweeping skirts and imperiled her at every turn. Only her excellent balance and the sudden presence of Hel’s strong hand under her armpit prevented a stumble on the stone steps leading to the portrait gallery. Hel strode down a marble hall lined with loosely swathed paintings hung on walls paneled in exotic woods. Hoisting up her damned skirts, she tromped after him. He stopped before a massive picture hung high on the wall. Its storage drapery lay on the floor, folded into a neat square.

  Hel gestured with his arm. “The first Tetriarch of Verdantia, Isolde DeCorvus, Federago DeHelios and Agentio DeLorcha.”

  Adonia examined the life-size portrait. Framed in ornate, heavy gilt, the lavish interior of a library or private office held the figures of two handsome males in antique dress standing protectively behind a seated woman. The physical features of Isolde DeCorvus duplicated those Adonia had seen in her mirror this morning—with one difference. The regal woman’s fierce gaze could command armies. The skill of the artist or the vibrancy of the woman herself imbued the two-dimensional artwork with her force of character. The subject in the painting looked as though she’d never had a moment of hesitancy in her life.

  “I agree we have the same features,” Adonia murmured. That’s where the similarity ends. “But, I don’t understand why you show me this.”

  “You hold yourself too cheaply. After seeing this portrait, you cannot doubt your aristocratic heritage. You descend from the first of Verdantia’s powerful queens. Your will commands vast energy—energy that up until now has lain quiescent. I want you to become comfortable with the thought of using that power. No more hiding from who you are and what you are capable of.”

  Hel’s words resonated within her and challenged the uncertainty buried deep in her heart. Presented with convincing proof of her lineage, Adonia set aside the last residual of the Mother’s Acolytes’ indoctrination and embraced who she was. I am not an ordinary Oshtesh woman. I am highborn, a descendant of the Isolde DeCorvus. Nascent pride swelled within and she stood taller and straighter. She examined the portrait of her ancestor more closely.

  “You need the confidence and sense of self that attend the knowledge of your lineage. When we work the Great Rite, it is easy to become lost in the swamping arousal and overwhelming presence of the Senzienza. Unless you hold fast to your identity, the tempest will consume your mind.”

  He’d surprised her. “The Great Rite? You are going to work the Great Rite with me as your partner?” The insane cries from the magistra in Sylvan Mintoth, the one whose mind had lost her anchor, echoed in Adonia’s memory. Fear robbed her legs of their strength.

  “Yes. Just as soon as I familiarize you with the lesser rites.” Her face must have revealed her thoughts. The corners of his mouth tipped and his knuckle brushed her cheek. “We will work up to it.”

  Her shoulders sagged and relief almost collapsed her knees. “Yes,” Adonia said. “We have until spring, after all.” Months. Half a year…no need to panic. I have months. Even so, her heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

  “I will have you ready in two months. We will attempt the Great Rite then.” Hel’s gaze caught and held hers.

  “Two months.” Her knees deserted her and hard wooden panels lifted her dress to bunch at her waist as she slid down the gallery wall.

  “Nia!”
Hel caught her up against his hard body before she reached the floor. She buried her face in his chest. Each hand clutched a fistful of material at the back of his tunic. She sucked in air in needy gasps. Hel cupped her face and raised it to his. “So we skip a few steps. I have faith in you. You can do this.” For a fleeting moment, his gray eyes warmed her with the confidence shining from them. “You faced down a mutated horror on foot and sent arrow after arrow into its face as it leapt to devour you—you can do this.”

  She stared at him. It isn’t the same thing at all. It takes seven years to achieve the status of magistra—not two months. His faith in her was misplaced—again. From his frown, the doubt invading her heart appeared on her face.

  “I am House DeHelios. With me as your partner, you can do this.” He shook his head impatiently at her continued blank expression. “House DeHelios has never boasted of the intimate link those of our genetic heritage share with our Mother, but it is undeniable fact. Suspicion and envy of our unique bond with Verdantia created the original schism between Nyth Uchel and Sylvan Mintoth. The other noble houses envied and feared us, afraid that by having both the rule of the planet and an intense connection with our Mother, House DeHelios held too much power. We narrowly avoided a civil war.” Hel traced a finger across her cheek. “By the High Enclave’s scale, my strength as a magister cannot be measured—none of the men and women born of House DeHelios could be calibrated. We are something…other. Beauty, with me at your side, you need not fear the Great Rite, and must I remind you that you and I share the same lineage?”

  Her brain fought for comprehension. That he was some uber-powerful magister, she could believe—but her?

  “You said you wished to try some of the healing rites on those afflicted with the fading this morning. Do you still want my help?” Hel raised an eyebrow.