Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2

by Danes, Willow

  “I cannot see her! Let me see her and I—”

  “Our scout team picked you up nearly fourteen hours ago,” the doctor interrupted, his gaze on the display. “The Mata has been given the captain’s quarters for her own. She left the medical bay only a short time ago.”

  He could not detect any signs of deception in the healer’s tone or expression and a glance at the others did not reveal any clue that the man was lying.

  “But she is . . .” R’har wet his lips. “She is safe? She is well, my Hope?”

  The doctor was not looking at him, but in the man’s face R’har detected the tiniest of flinches.

  “Yes,” Ki’san said. “She has been provided an honor guard and the captain himself has pledged himself to her protection. If necessary he will sacrifice the ship for her safety.”

  R’har breathed in deeply, and his shoulders relaxed, positive now that he detected no human blood.

  “The Yir clan are in your debt.” He sought the healer’s gaze. “I am in your debt.”

  “This is my calling,” the doctor said shortly. “To heal all those who have need of it. You owe me no debt, warrior.”

  “Still,” R’har said. “I undertake the obligation gratefully.”

  He breathed in again and his brow creased at the lingering tang of her anxiety. He should have been awake, been at her side to soothe her fears when they did their exam. Finding Hope had once been his purpose; serving her, safeguarding her and their offspring, was the task the Goddess entrusted to him now.

  The medics’ press on him was unrelenting and R’har lay back. The sooner the medical officer released him from sickbay, the sooner he would be with her. After a moment the men, seeing his cooperation, let go. He tried to be still, to let the healers attend to their task, but it was not easy.

  It had been explained to him, when he was selected to journey to Earth, that human males did not bond to their females like this, that his new mate would not understand. Ra’kur had told him, privately, that his own lifemate, Jenna, struggled to comprehend the depth of that bond even now.

  He had long dreamed of a lifemate of his own and now he had bonded to Hope he was ill at ease at being separated from her, as if part of him were missing when she was not with him. He felt agitated when he could not scent her, when he could not see her, truly content now only when she was nearby.

  She was safe here, somewhere on the ship. That was something at least, but it did not compare to seeing her with his own eyes, breathing in her scent, feeling her warmth for himself.

  R’har shifted, impatient for them to be finished.

  “Your annoyance will not affect the speed of the exam,” the doctor said, his eyes on the datapad in his hand.

  “I feel strong enough to leave the medical bay now,” he offered, hoping he could manage to walk out unassisted. “I will return if I feel unwell.”

  “Your injuries were severe.” The doctor continued his scans, unperturbed. “And you were too long unconscious. I have a number of tests I must perform before I can release you.” Ki’san glanced up at the display over the biobed then at R’har. “You might as well resign yourself to it and use the time as an opportunity to rest.”

  “I will rest easier if I know Hope is well and cared for,” R’har growled. “Allow me to see her and assure myself of her safety and comfort then I will return here. You may do any exam or test you like then.”

  “You will not depart my medical bay until I am certain you are recovered enough to do so.” The doctor’s hand rested on R’har’s shoulder to halt his attempt to sit up, his hold steady and unyielding. “I would prefer not to have you restrained.”

  Ki’san’s coloring placed him as clanbrother at any number of enclosures but R’har detected a crispness to the man’s words, often the hallmark of one of the northern mountainous regions of Hir. The mountain clans’ fighting style was slower, relying more on blunt force than speed—

  “This is a warship,” the doctor reminded calmly, clearly not having missed R’har’s quick estimation of his potential fighting skills. “I am as trained as any warrior here.” Ki’san’s eyebrows rose. “But more importantly, I outrank many of those warriors. I can—and will—order them to strap you down if you force me to it.”

  R’har’s bared his fangs fully but the doctor’s gaze was unwavering and the medics too tensed.

  Finally R’har blew out his breath and lay back on the biobed.

  “Your cooperation is appreciated,” the doctor said dryly.

  R’har glanced toward the medcenter’s doors. “If you will not let me go to her, will you do me the simple courtesy of letting her come to me?”

  “After many hours in the medcenter she has just been escorted to her quarters to rest,” the doctor returned. “At my recommendation.”

  “But—is she sleeping, do you think?” R’har’s brow creased. “I long for her but I will not have you disturb her, if she is resting.”

  “I am—if you have not noticed—currently occupied in treating a patient,” Ki’san said without looking up from his datapad. “That is my priority now.”

  R’har felt his nostrils flare. “You do this because you not have a lifemate of your own. You would not deny me her presence if you did!”

  The doctor’s face tightened ever so slightly. “I am well versed in the biology of a male’s bond to his lifemate.”

  “That is not the same as having it!” R’har snarled. “You will never understand what it means to be separated from the female you are bonded to!”

  Ki’san dropped his gaze to his datapad. “I am sure that is true.”

  The doctor remained focused on his task and R’har felt his face flush, ashamed at having exposed the agony of a solitary life, a deep hurt he himself knew too well.

  Before he had found Hope.

  “What of the Zerar?” R’har asked at last. “Was the confrontation a lengthy one?”

  “I am not versed in the specifics of the Tribute’s military engagements,” Ki’san replied. “But I can tell you that the Zerar warship retreated quickly. From the sole report I was privy to, the enemy has left our territory.”

  For now.

  The words were unspoken but the Zerar were growing bolder, testing the Hironian borders to see where they might breech and claim territory. Those like this physician and himself, the youngest generation of the g’hir, were adults now and in desperate need of offspring to replace their numbers, mates to give their lives purpose.

  She had been here for hours . . .

  R’har did not miss the looks the warriors sent his way, looks of envy, weighing his fighting skills, some no doubt wondering how his clanbrothers might retaliate if one of the Yir females was stolen.

  Finally Ki’san gave a nod.

  “Your vitals are good. There does not appear to be any residual neural or nerve damage. I am releasing you from the medical center,” the doctor said, tapping the order into his datapad. “But I am ordering rest and I want to see you again in twelve hours.”

  R’har let his breath out in relief. “I thank you.”

  “At the first sign of dizziness, headache, or any other new symptom, no matter how mild, you are to return here immediately.”

  “I will,” R’har promised, already pushing off the biobed to stand.

  But he had taken only a step toward the medcenter doors when the doctor put his hand out to stop him.

  Ki’san addressed the medical staff. “Clear the room. I need a moment to consult privately with my patient.”

  “What is—?” he began as the men left, then his heart sped up. “Is Hope all right? Was there something you did not tell me?”

  “She left here sound in body,” Ki’san assured quickly. “This is a personal, not medical, matter. Hope—the Mata—has asked me to deliver a message to you.”

  “A message?” R’har’s brow furrowed. “Why would she ask you to give a message to me? I will see her in a few moments.”

  Ki’san shifted his weight
slightly, glancing away, and R’har’s stomach clenched.

  “Well, what is it then, physician?” he demanded. “What is this message my lifemate would entrust to one not even of her own enclosure?”

  “She asked me to relay to you . . .” Ki’san met his gaze. “She does not ever wish to see you again.”

  R’har blinked and the simple absurdity of the words made his mind go white.

  Then he brushed away the doctor’s hand with a dismissive huff. “Get out of my way, healer!”

  In a quick move Ki’san blocked his exit. “This is the message she asked me to deliver to you.”

  R’har stared, caught between outrage and disbelief. “Whatever it is you are attempting to—”

  “I do not enjoy being the bearer of these words!” the doctor interrupted sharply. “I do not relish this task. But she has given it to me and I gave my word I would deliver this message to you.”

  “Who are you that she should give any task to?” R’har roared, his face going hot, his fangs bared. “I am her lifemate! You are nothing!”

  Ki’san’s face tightened. “What I am is immaterial. These are her words. She does not wish to see you again. She made me promise I would—”

  “These are lies!” But the healer did not look malicious, he looked grieved. Nostrils flared, R’har pushed past him. “I must see her—”

  “The captain has already issued orders in accordance with her wishes!” the doctor warned. “The guards will not permit you near her.”

  R’har shook his head again. “But—why?” he rasped. “Why would she do this?”

  But he knew.

  “She did not confide that in me.” Ki’san passed his hand over his eyes. “But others heard her words. She made the declaration publicly.”

  “No.” R’har staggered back. “No . . .”

  “I am sorry, R’har,” Ki’san said quietly, and his gaze reflected sympathy. “She has abjured you.”

  Twenty-three

  Holy crap.

  Hope stood at the top of the shuttle’s ramp and swallowed hard. The chill air of Hir’s autumn stung her cheeks as she regarded the scores of Yir warriors in the courtyard below, all assembled expressly to welcome her to their enclosure.

  She hadn’t wanted to come here, to R’har’s home in the Atarra valley, but being human meant she didn’t have an enclosure of her own to return to. She might have ended things with R’har but the Yir—in fact the g’hir as a people—weren’t about to make it easy for a fertile human female go home. R’har had captured her, and by their law he had an entire moon cycle to convince her to stay.

  Unless she wanted to choose another mate.

  She wasn’t about to pick another g’hir male but by her own declaration wasn’t R’har’s mate either, even though he still had a claim to her. The whole thing left her in a kind of legal limbo she scarcely understood, and offers to pay formal court to her poured in within an hour of her arrival on Hir.

  The Ruling Council, aware of the danger of having a human female up for grabs in their custody, argued hotly amongst themselves. Fearful of an attack on the Council building itself, the majority voted to acknowledge the claim of R’har’s clan and declared she be sent to the Yir enclosure for their clanbrother’s remaining choosing time. She was placed her under the protection of his clan and spirited out of the capital.

  Hope didn’t want to be here and she sure hadn’t expected this kind of turnout for her arrival.

  Arrayed in the courtyard below stood rows and rows of Yir clanbrothers in respectful anticipation. The hundreds of glowing eyes fixed on her had Hope gripping the doorway and fighting the urge to retreat back into the warm shuttle’s cabin to hide.

  “Mata?”

  Hope glanced over her shoulder and up at Ha’kin, one of the eight warriors who had raced to the capital to claim her. These warriors, all Yir clanbrothers, had surrounded her the instant the Ruling Counsel acknowledged their claim to her. From their narrowed eyes, the way their hands hovered near their blasters and how their fangs showed in warning as they eyed other g’hir males in the capital, it was clear they were prepared to defend that claim with violence.

  The whole idea of being something—a commodity—that these people willingly would shed blood over churned her stomach.

  Ha’kin hadn’t left her side since that moment and she appreciated his protection even if she didn’t take the same comfort in his presence as she had R’har’s. A g’hir warrior, Ha’kin was nearly seven feet tall and powerfully built. He was blond, an apparently common trait for the Yir, his hair a darker shade than R’har’s but lightened here and there by Hir’s suns.

  His startling teal-colored eyes regarded her now with concern. “Are you all right?”

  Hope looked back at the hundreds of men awaiting her in the courtyard. “I, uh, I just didn’t expect such a turnout.” Her gaze took in banners and streamers that must have been hung for her arrival. “This is a little much.”

  “I will send them away,” he offered swiftly. “I will tell them they have made you uneasy, that they must disburse immediately.”

  Hope shifted her weight. Ha’kin struck her as a truly nice guy, the kind who would probably stand up for her even if she weren’t up for grabs. But he—and the other clanbrothers who had escorted her here—would probably do cartwheels for her if it meant getting her attention and furthering their chances of being chosen as her new mate.

  Her attention was drawn back to the warriors below and her gaze darted about, seeking him among the men assembled. She’d felt R’har’s absence from the moment the medical doors slid shut behind her, almost as if she’d lost a part of herself. She’d never felt anything like it; not even losing her “perfect” fiancé had compared. And now, arriving at R’har’s enclosure and seeing the scores of alien strangers awaiting her, she felt such a wave of longing for him, such a need just to know him nearby no matter how mad she was, that it was painful.

  But R’har was not numbered here among the many warriors or part of the pair who came forward to greet her at the bottom of the ramp. One was another g’hir warrior but the other, decked out like a queen, was clearly the Yir’s future clanmother.

  Hope’s gaze met the g’hir female’s and even from here she could see that the woman’s rippled brow creased at how Hope lingered in the doorway and delayed her descent from the shuttle.

  It hadn’t really struck home how little Hope knew about the g’hir people, about their culture and etiquette, till she’d broken it off with R’har and had to deal with the captain and crew of the warship on her own. Either because he’d spent time on Earth or because he’d been prepared as one selected to travel there or simply because he’d spent time with her and been a quick study, R’har had apparently gone out of his way to act human.

  But the g’hir she’d met since she’d walked out of the medical center didn’t. They certainly weren’t out to offend her but these were aliens, with their own rules of society including their own manners and expectations—nearly all of which she was completely ignorant.

  And from the look the woman standing at the bottom of the ramp was giving her, clearly lingering here was not what she was supposed to be doing.

  “No,” Hope said quietly. “I’m going to have to meet them sooner or later anyway.”

  But it wasn’t easy to walk down there, with all the expectations they had of her, with all those gazes watching her every move, so many of them hoping she would choose him as a mate instead.

  The outfit she was wearing didn’t help either. The men had brought with them clothing for her that consisted of soft boots and a dress embroidered in silver thread. Over it she wore a sweeping floor-length coat in matching ivory, trimmed at the hood, wrists, and hem with some kind of fluffy, soft white fur. The whole ensemble looked like something a medieval Russian princess might have worn.

  She wasn’t used to the length but at least the boots were flats and easy to walk in. At her height she’d always felt self-conscious about w
earing heels but here, at least, she wouldn’t have to worry about that. When she stepped from the ramp onto the courtyard Hope, so tall for a human, found herself having the unusual experience of looking up at another woman.

  The g’hir female was easily over six feet tall in flats. She was lovely too, her ridges and the bones of her face far more delicate than the males’, and she certainly took pains to show off her good looks. Her eyes, bright green and a bit upturned at the corners, were highlighted with shimmery, sparkly shadow, her full mouth bright with a red lip shade. Jeweled earrings, a darker green than her eyes, dangled and swayed as the woman stepped forward, her pretty fangs flashing in a smile.

  “Mata, I am Si’hala,” she said, her growl softer, higher in pitch than that of the males. She indicated the man at her side. “My mate, Lihr.”

  The man bent his head to her. “Mata.”

  “Hi,” Hope said, giving him a nod. She immediately realized it was a human mannerism and wondered if she should do the g’hir chin thing instead, but then Si’hala was talking again.

  “On behalf of the whole Yir enclosure, Mata,” Si’hala continued, indicating the rows of warriors behind her, “I welcome you home.”

  “I appreciate your kindness, Si’hala, and theirs,” Hope began guardedly. “But I’m not staying. I’m just here until I can return to Earth.”

  “If that is what you decide,” Si’hala agreed, her growl warm, friendly, and too quick to be really sincere. “But for now, the Yir enclosure is your home.”

  “This isn’t an ‘if,’” Hope began, her face flushing with annoyance. The wind had picked up, the fur trim of the hood tickling her eyes, and she pushed the thing back. “I am going back to—”

  A ripple of shock ran through the assembled g’hir, and the warriors, who had been so silent and still, shifted, trying to get a better look at her, murmuring.

  Si’hala’s mouth dropped open and she too was staring.