Emin's Mate

by Selena Scott

  “Are you gonna help here? Or are you just gonna sit on your ass and gossip?” Solar growled at the Oracle. The Oracle’s laziness knew no bounds and neither did Solar’s frustration with him. As the two main leaders of the Surgere, a group of revolutionary freedom fighters seeking to depose the king, you’d think they would both be pretty motivated. But here Solar was, heaving logs in the jungle, half a mile out from their makeshift camp of 50 or so Surgeres, completely by himself.

  The Oracle studied his fingernails, the clouds above, the tree he was leaning against. The heat from the surrounding jungle rose in misty curls around them. The trees were alive with the chatter of colorful birds and curious animals, but the Oracle’s words cut right through it all. “You know, I’m not really clear why you’re doing this yourself, Sol. You’re the head of the entire revolution and here you are, sorting logs. Why don’t you ask one of the younglings to do it? They’re chomping at the bit for a task. Particularly one assigned by the leader himself.”

  Solar turned to the Oracle. He knew when he was being baited and Solar was pretty sure it had been happening for about the last hour. “First of all, you know you’re basically as much of a leader in this as I am, whether or not you want to face the responsibility. And I’m here, building up our camp with my own two hands because I believe in equality. Because I’m no better or higher than the youngest Surgere. Is that enough reason for you?”

  “Of course that’s enough reason.” The Oracle’s eyes were clear and piercing. He was doing that spooky see-right-through-you thing that Solar hated so much. “But you’re lying. That’s not why you’re doing this and you know it.”

  With that, the Oracle rose and sauntered off toward camp. “Let me know when you finally decide to face facts, bro.”

  Solar turned back to the pile of logs he’d selected and heaved two over his shoulder. So what if the actual reason he was out here dragging lumber around was because once Zara became fertile and mateable she was gonna need her own private hut? And because Solar didn’t trust some young fuckhead to do it right. And because the idea of some other dragon shifter building her fertility hut for her made him want to rip the heads off of his comrades. The Surgere were his brothers and sisters. They’d been through literal battle together. They had fought and died for one another. They would sacrifice themselves for the cause of overthrowing King Dalyer and restoring peace and equality to the Dragon realm. But some of the younglings were starting to make moves toward Zara and it was making Solar want to burn their entire camp to the ground.

  “Fucking Oracle.”

  O had gotten Solar out of more jams than he cared to admit. In fact, he was the reason, undeniably, that the revolution against the king had even gotten this far. Everything from his day-to-day predictions and alterations to their plans, all the way down to his grand plot four years ago to topple the king’s bodyguard system to leave him unprotected. None of that would have been possible, even remotely, without the Oracle. And for that, Solar would always be deeply grateful.

  The Oracle was a deeply powerful tool to have on one’s side.

  But fuck if he wasn’t annoying as hell.

  Solar knew, without question, that the Oracle knew what kinds of dreams and errant thoughts Solar had about Zara. Solar wasn’t quite sure how the Oracle’s gift really worked, but he had suspicions that O was even able to watch other people’s dreams. Like a play.

  “Motherfucking Oracle,” Solar growled again as he dumped the logs he’d been carrying onto the ground in a little clearing set just far enough away from the camp.

  “What did he do now?” Zara asked from over Solar’s shoulder. She melted out of the shadowy jungle like she was made of mist. Or fog. Or clouds. Or something. Solar never could pin it down exactly, but she moved so fluidly. And silently. She didn’t mean to, it was just who she was.

  “Nothing. Just being supremely unhelpful. As usual.”

  “I always thought that it was so funny that one of the most useful people in the realm could also be so terribly unhelpful,” Zara said softly, bending down to inspect the lumber he’d just tossed on the ground.

  He’d just been thinking the same thing. That happened a lot with Zara. She’d give voice to something that had been on his mind. It bothered him. How did she do that?

  She bent further and picked a small green lizard off of one of the logs. She laid her hand against a mossy tree beside her and let the lizard slither off into his new home. Solar ignored the twinge in his chest it gave him to watch her do that. She was always doing stuff like that. She was so sweet. So nurturing.

  “So what’s all this for?” she asked, gesturing to the newly cleared area and the pile of logs.

  Her question snapped him back to reality and he was grateful for that. Reality was where he didn’t get to dwell on her sweet softness. Reality was where he built her fertility hut that she would inevitably be using with a different man. He swallowed against the sour taste in his mouth.

  “It’s for your hut.” His voice was gruffer and sharper than he might have liked it to be. A look of shock crossed her face.

  “My hut? For- for-,” she stuttered but couldn’t seem to finish the sentence.

  He turned and faced her, crossing his arms over his chest. A monkey chattered somewhere in the surrounding trees and a cloud shifted, sending misty sun filtering through the trees. “For your 21st birthday. When you become mateable. You’ll move here indefinitely.”

  “Is that really necessary?” Zara crossed her hands under her chin, her eyes wild as a small flush worked its way over her cheeks. She looked everywhere but at him. “I thought I could just go on living in the infirmary with the nurses. As always. I mean, nothing really will change, right?”

  She was young. So young. And it was moments like these that

  painfully yanked Solar’s leash back into place. She had no idea how much everything would change. She’d be able to mate now. Every unmated male in the camp would be excruciatingly aware of it. Of her. Of every movement she made. Until she chose one of them to mate with. Which she undoubtedly would. Not only was it just basic biology, but she was so soft, so sweet, she’d want a mate.

  She deserved a mate, Solar reminded himself. She deserved someone who would take care of her and give her happiness. And pleasure. Something curled up in his stomach.

  “Yes. This is necessary, Zara.” He stared her down and her eyes dropped to the jungle floor, followed two red butterflies flitting around one another. “You might not have been witness to a fertility season before, but you know enough to know that you’ll be in the way if we don’t sequester you.”

  He watched the hurt flicker across her face. He knew that nothing would make her agree faster than telling her she was unwanted.

  “So I have to be out here alone?” she asked, her voice small. “It’s so far from camp.”

  She was afraid, he realized and could have kicked himself. He wanted her out of the way, sure. But he didn’t want her to be terrified out here.

  “Zara,” he said and couldn’t help but move a little bit closer to her. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you. I’d never put you in harm’s way.”

  Her eyes shot up to his and he couldn’t interpret the look on her face. He saw something there. Nerves. Hope. She was gathering herself to ask him something. It happened so rarely that she bothered him with anything. She had no idea that he would give her anything she asked for.

  “Here you go, boss.”

  The moment between Solar and Zara shattered as two young pledges, Rafael and Carlos, stomped into the clearing, carrying logs over their shoulders. The men dumped theirs in the pile with the ones that Solar had just dropped.

  “What are you doing?” Solar kept his voice even. He wanted to snap, but his place as leader held him in check. He couldn’t go around scaring off all the young people who wanted to join up. The revolution needed them.

  “The Oracle sent us. He said you needed a hand building Zara’s hut,” Rafael said,
his eyes flickering in Zara’s direction.

  Solar felt Zara shrink back into the trees, away from the men.

  “He was wrong,” said Solar. “Head back to camp and see if the armory needs help with weapons maintenance.”

  The two young pledges followed his directions immediately. But when Solar turned back, he found that Zara had gone as well. Not even a leaf quaked on its stem to show where her escape route had been.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Just breathe, Zara, she told herself. She followed her own directions and felt a tiny bit better, calmer. It was ridiculous to be so scared to talk to somebody she’d known practically since she was born.

  Zara stood outside of Solar's hut. The moonlight turned her pale skin silver. The whole camp was silent. Sleeping. She knew she should be, too, and she’d tried. But it was no use. She had to talk to Solar. She had to get his promise. A promise that would mean everything to her. She didn't know what she would do if he didn't say yes. Well. She did. But she didn't want to do it.

  She padded softly through the camp, past each hut that held her sleeping comrades. She slept in the infirmary, always had, because there was always an extra cot in there. And though she wasn’t a trained nurse, whenever someone was injured, they always seemed to want her around. She supposed she had a quiet, soothing way. She was glad she was quiet as she passed by all the darkened huts. Though each one was highly moveable, the nature of a temporary camp, they were also sturdy. There was the kitchen hut, where food for the Surgere was prepared. Then the armory. The war hut, where Solar, the Oracle, and Javi, their second-in-command, made decisions regarding the revolution. It was like a little village of revolutionaries. And for Zara, it was home. No matter where they camped. Over the last four years they’d camped in the mountains, on the beach, and finally in the jungle. She loved it here the best. The canopy always teemed with life, noise, colorful flowers, and dripping water. So different from the stony, silent palace where she’d been imprisoned for so long.

  Her life with the Surgere was messy, loud, simple. And she loved it. She didn’t want a single bit of it to change. Which was why she was standing outside of Solar’s tent, wringing her hands and preparing to ask him a monumental favor.

  Zara tucked her long, chestnut hair neatly behind her back and stared at the door to Solar's hut. She supposed she wasn't actually scared of him. He just threw her off. She never had her footing around him. She was always a little jumpy, a little nervous.

  It hadn't always been like that. When she'd been a child, playing in the palace yard, there had been no one she’d rather have spent her time with than Solar. He'd been a teenager then, and deeply patient and indulgent with her. It would take barely more than a request from her to get him to flop down in the grass beside her to play with her dolls.

  She'd wept for a month when Solar disappeared from the castle. She wouldn’t learn for years that it was because he had refused his status as a serf and servant. That he had left to lead a revolution against the king. That was about the same time that Zara had learned that she wasn't just a castle servant, that she had been selected at birth to serve as one of the king's wives. And at around twelve, she'd had to start dressing the part. The king kept his distance from her, but she was clearly still marked territory. And doomed to either bear him an heir or be executed.

  The jungle air was balmy, but Zara shivered as she pulled her thin night dress tighter around her as she remembered the night that Solar had rescued her from that fate. Well. Technically it had been the revolution rescuing her. But it was Solar that Zara remembered, bursting through the roof of the castle’s great hall in his midnight blue dragon form.

  At that moment, the greatest moment of her life to date, all Zara was thinking was he came back for me. She had shifted to dragon form to fly alongside him instantly. It was the easiest decision she had ever made. And Zara never regretted it for a second.

  But it hadn't been like she had dreamed it would be, to see Solar again.

  Gone was the goofy, amiable teenager who made silly voices for dolls and ruffled her hair. In his place was a hardened, stern leader. And gone was the easiness that Zara used to feel with him.

  The second she'd been taken on by the revolution she'd felt underfoot, a burden. So she'd made herself useful. She was as good a nurse as any of the other trained dragon shifters and she pulled her weight in every other way as well. Cooking, cleaning, packing up and moving the camp whenever they had to. At first, the soldiers and workers had treated her like she was fragile, made of glass. As if she were royalty. But it didn't take long for Zara to prove she wasn't scared of hard work and couldn't be happier to be free of the royal life. Sure, her life in the castle had been opulent. Defined by gorgeous clothing and delicious meals. But she'd been a slave to the king. She was infinitely more at peace in the crude, rough and tumble camp, pulling her own weight and working hard. Living as a free and independent soul.

  At this point, four years after her rescue, everyone had accepted her as a member of the revolution except for Solar. He still held her away. The laughing, gentle man he was around the campfire with the members of the Surgere didn't ever make it to Zara. With her he was always as cold as he'd been today in the clearing. Annoyed.

  But that didn't matter now. She had to face him now and get a promise. Her life depended on it.

  Zara straightened her shoulders and gently slid the door to his hut to one side. She was silent as she moved across his space. She’d always been able to be quiet. And she was good at hiding. At blending in. It had been her only way to protect herself from the king when she’d been trapped at the castle.

  She used those skills now to melt across the floor of his hut, only the splashes of moonlight she had to step through giving her away. He lay across his cot, standard issue for members of the Surgere. Being the leader, he could have demanded something finer, more comfortable. But that wasn’t Solar’s style. He didn’t believe in being higher than anyone else. He believed, deeply, in the equality of the people.

  For a moment, Zara just looked at him. Took him in. He looked so young while he slept. His dark hair tousled, and one arm flung up over his head. A single sheet was twisted across his bare chest, a concession to the heat of the jungle around them. His face was calm in repose. The severity of his typical expressions gone while he slept. Something skittered through Zara’s breath when she realized, looking down at him, that he was actually rather handsome.

  Normally, she thought of him simply as severe or stern. Never handsome. But it couldn’t be denied; his strong jaw and hollowed cheeks in the shadow of the moonlight were beautiful. Even the scar that cut one eyebrow in half, ran down his cheek, looked almost elegant. His crooked nose bent the elegance toward interest instead.

  It was almost a relief to look at Solar when his eyes were closed. Generally, his deep, midnight blue eyes haunted her. She found herself skittish when she was caught in their gaze. Almost as if they were searing her with their natural heat.

  But there he lay, completely relaxed, looking so much like the boy who used to come down to the courtyard to push her on the swing or play hide and seek with her. She felt like she hadn’t had a glimpse of that boy in years and the sight of him had her heart clamping in her chest.

  She knew she should just reach down and shake his shoulder to wake him up. She should just tell him what she needed to tell him and get the heck out of his hut. But instead she followed an impulse that rose up inside of her. And standing next to him, she gently reached down to brush the tousled hair off of his forehead.

  His hair was so soft, surprisingly soft. That was the last thought she had before she was suddenly ripped off her feet and smashed down onto the floor. She saw stars as her head rapped the wooden floorboards, but it didn’t keep her from seeing the flash of steel in the moonlight as a knife sliced toward her throat.

  The utter wind was knocked out of her as Solar’s full weight landed on top of her. He pinned her to the ground with his hips over hers, one for
earm pressed against her chest. His other arm raised the knife to her neck. She tried to breathe but couldn’t. She was utterly compressed, not to mention completely stunned.

  He breathed heavily over top of her. Zara watched as recognition, surprise, confusion, and then anger all took their turn playing across his features. The boy she’d seen while he was sleeping was once again gone, replaced with the severe, fierce man who made her feel so out of place and uncomfortable. His arm lowered the knife and his hand flattened on her chest, directly over her heart.

  “Zara,” he whispered angrily. “What the hell are you doing? I could have gutted you like a pig. I was this close to murdering you!”

  He waited for an answer from her, his brow furrowed and his mouth turned down into a fierce frown. But Zara could give no answer, as she had not a speck of air in her lungs and no way to gather any. She gave a slight wheeze and wiggled her hips, trying to shake him loose.

  Something darkened in Solar’s eyes for just a flash before comprehension broke over his face and he instantly rolled off of her.

  “God, Zara, I’m crushing you. Come here.” He scooped her up off the ground and moved to his cot as she coughed her breath back, one hand pressed to her chest.

  “It’s ok,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “You’re right. That was really dumb of me. I should have knocked. I know better than to sneak up on you.”

  Her breath came back, sure enough, though her head still ached. She shook it gently and reached back to feel for the knot that she knew would be growing there. His fingers instantly tangled with hers in her hair as he sought out the same thing.

  “Shit,” he cursed when they both found the bump on her skull. “I really hurt you.”

  “No, no.” She waved it away. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.” She turned to reassure him but lost her breath again at the concerned look in his eyes. He was never concerned about her. Annoyed? Yes. Irritated? Absolutely. But concerned? Never.