Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3

by Danes, Willow

  “Nice resolution,” Summer commented, wondering how he’d managed to rig the xenari system to play the film at all. “Please tell me you didn’t reroute life support to do that.”

  Ke’lar gave her a half chiding, half-relieved look and stood. “I was worried for you, my Summer. You are late.”

  “I was just up at the cabin,” she reminded.

  They’d both agreed that it would be best for him to remain hidden within the ship while Summer settled things enough that she could leave. Summer knew he delighted in having Emma with him and he positively doted on her. He’d insisted she be put under when the translation chip was implanted so she would feel no fear or discomfort, and waking up to find she could finally understand him just convinced Emma that he could do magic. He enjoyed his time becoming acquainted with his daughter, but he was still a g’hir warrior and anxiety gnawed at him when his mate had to venture out to what he considered a dangerous and primitive world without him. “And it was worth it to finish up today.”

  “Then you have concluded—” Ke’lar glanced back at Emma still singing along with Lumière. “Everything?”

  “My lawyer pulled some strings at the family court and got everything signed before the holiday break,” she confirmed quietly.

  He let his breath out. “Then by Earth law, too, she is my child.”

  Not exactly true since Ke’lar hadn’t—couldn’t—adopt her here but having Dean’s paperwork filed with the court and signed by a human judge satisfied his g’hir sensibilities.

  “And”—her voice brightened as she lifted the container she held—“I brought something to help us celebrate.” She set the container on the table and lifted the top with a flourish. “Lemon pie.”

  He inhaled deeply and a fanged smile lit his face at the sight of his new favorite dessert. “When did you make this?”

  “Oh, believe me, the lemon pie was the easy part, it was everything else that took the whole day. Let’s see—” She pulled plates and some of the weirdly shaped forks and a slicing knife from the xenari galley as she counted things off. “My lawyer also has power of attorney to sell the Alexandria house and its contents to put in a trust. Sarah Jane bought my car.” Summer sliced the pie and placed the pieces on plates, topping them with homemade whipped cream and candied lemon peel. “I resigned from my job. Hmm,” she said, licking some of the filling off her thumb. “Of course my boss wrote back and implied that he had always intended to make me Director of Marketing in the new year, which is a bunch of bull; he’s just being catty.”

  Emma appeared at her side. “Can I have pie in there so I watch the movie?”

  Summer said no at the same time Ke’lar said yes.

  Then she had two sets of blue eyes, one human, one glowing, looking at her pleadingly.

  “Oh, fine.” Summer gave a sigh and handed the girl a slice. “Go ahead.”

  She handed Ke’lar a plate with an extra large slice of pie as Emma ran to her place in the living area. Not that it would matter—she knew he’d wind up finishing the rest of the pie off—but it looked nicer to serve it to him sliced and topped each time.

  “I called the daycare,” she continued. “Told them Emma won’t be coming back after the holidays. They were pretty nice about it, though. They even refunded the new year’s registration fee.”

  She couldn’t help grinning at the rumbling sound of happiness that he made as he took his first bite of the pie.

  “It’s love that makes it so good. Well, actually,” she amended, spearing a bite from her own slice, “love and gobs of fat and sugar.”

  He gave a huffed laugh. “And your uncle?”

  “Yes, I got hold of him—finally! Real estate agents live on the phone so he doesn’t carry his cell on vacation but I got him at his place in Florida. ’Course I had to call him at six this morning to do it, which he wasn’t thrilled about. But he was happy for me and my new boyfriend, the anthropologist—”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Anthropologist?”

  “—and that Emma and I were off to exotic places with him to explore cave paintings and such. You know,” she said proudly, “that whole thing with Ezzari might have really helped. I think Uncle Lester actually bought it. And I just finished cleaning and closing up the cabin . . . that’s all of it.”

  He scraped the plate, finishing the last of his pie, and put the plate down.

  “I can take you home,” he rumbled softly, his eyes warm on her. His brow creased. “You are worried.”

  “What’s to worry about?” She put down her half-eaten pie, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Just your clan, and the Ruling Council and the Betari clan and Ar’ar . . .”

  He took her hands in his. “Nothing will take you and our daughter from me,” he promised. “Nothing.”

  “I know,” she said, leaning against him. His arms went around her; with her check against his chest she could hear his heart beating strongly.

  But even you can’t fight them all . . .

  “If you keep looking back at her like that you’re going to crash this thing,” Summer chided, the forest of Hir speeding by below.

  “The proximity detector is engaged. I cannot crash.” Ke’lar faced front again, his fingers never leaving the transport’s controls. “And I want to be sure Emma is strapped in properly.”

  “You strapped her in yourself,” Summer reminded. “She’s fine.”

  She really was too. With a child’s innocence, Emma simply accepted that that carpets could fly, candles could sing, and glowing-eyed men could show up one winter night and whisk them both off into the sky.

  Emma had been dazzled by the stars, accepting spaceflight as easily as she would a plane ride. She had Ke’lar so wrapped around her tiny finger Summer was surprised he hadn’t just turned over the ship’s controls to her.

  “Do they know we’re coming?” Summer asked quietly. She’d actually been surprised that they hadn’t been arrested at spacedock, that they’d been permitted to reach the capital city at all.

  “My father has long since ordered my return to the clanhall. He sent the message as soon as we were known to be missing.” His fingers moved calmly over the controls. “I have acknowledged his command. They will be expecting us to arrive shortly.”

  Summer’s stomach clenched and she looked out over Hir’s forests as they sped toward the Erah enclosure.

  “This is really a beautiful world. Your clanhall is amazing. Emma’s lucky she’ll get to grow up there. No clanhall climbing though.” She threw him a mock-warning glance. “Not till she’s eight.”

  He smiled faintly. “Perhaps nine.”

  “How much longer?” Emma demanded. “I want to see the castle!”

  “What castle, baby?” Summer asked.

  “The castle!”

  “But what—oh. No, sugar, it’s a clanhall, not a castle.”

  “Daddy said ‘castle,’” Emma insisted.

  She had taken to calling him that almost immediately. A shrink would probably blather on about grieving the parental bond and attachment and whatnot, but Summer figured none of them ever had an alien warrior in co-parenting sessions so what the hell did they know?

  “No, he didn’t.” Summer frowned at Ke’lar. “Did you say ‘castle’?”

  He gave a sheepish half shrug. “They are not so different.”

  Summer shook her head a little at him fondly. “We’ll be at the castle soon, honey.”

  She was trying to hide her anxiety from Emma, from Ke’lar too, but the journey was far too short and her stomach clenched when the clanhall came into view.

  It didn’t help that the entire Erah enclosure seemed to have turned out for their arrival, standing in grim-faced formal assembly as Ke’lar landed the transport.

  Mirak was there too, waiting for them.

  As was Ar’ar.

  “I will not fail you,” Ke’lar rumbled, meeting her eyes squarely.

  Summer’s throat tightened. She was far more worried about him getting hurt.
r />   “I know you won’t.” That was quite a crowd of g’hir waiting for them and this situation was tense enough. She gave a nod. “Okay,” she said, unfastening the safety straps that held her to the seat, then undoing Emma’s. “Let’s go.”

  “Is this the castle, Momma?”

  “Sure is,” Summer agreed, taking her daughter’s hand. “So we have to mind our manners, okay?”

  Ke’lar hit the control to open the door and extend the ramp and the bright light of Hir’s suns filled the transport’s cabin. He went first and every eye was on him until she and Emma emerged behind him.

  A ripple ran through the crowd.

  Ar’ar, his expression thunderstruck, stepped forward to stare at Summer and Emma beside her.

  Standing with Ra’kur and the other Erah clanbrothers on the steps of the clan hall, Jenna’s mouth parted in shocked understanding, her gaze too riveted on Emma.

  On the steps near Jenna waited a handful of females as well, possibly all the g’hir women of the Erah enclosure. Two were white-haired, one bent with age, and one was the dark-haired young woman she’d seen before when she and Ke’lar had first arrived at the clanhall, but beside her stood another woman accompanied by—

  “Are they the princesses?” Emma said excitedly, her attention fixed, of course, on the two little girls. “Their eyes glow too but they have hair like mine!”

  The eldest looked to be about seven, her sister perhaps four or five. Obviously beloved, they stood sedately beside their mother, their rounded, soft faces pink with health as they stared back at Emma. Their hair was blond, like their mother’s, but darker than Emma’s, more gold than white blond, and entirely unlike her daughter these two had hair that was braided and beribboned.

  Summer wondered wryly how their mother got the girls to sit still for all that styling when she could barely manage to get Emma to sit still long enough to have her hair combed. Emma wore jean overalls but these girls wore miniature versions of g’hir ladies’ gowns and jewels sparkled on their fingers and throats.

  Emma waved. The eldest girl stared but the younger one smiled, showing dainty little fangs, and waved back. Her mother tugged at her hand in silent rebuke and swept Summer’s attire with a disapproving gaze.

  I should have worn Jenna’s dress! I look like a goddamn lumberjack.

  In fact, realizing she was out in Hir’s spring weather but had dressed for winter in North Carolina in sheepskin boots and a sweater made her want to slap her hand over her eyes.

  Ke’lar strode to where his father waited and Summer and Emma followed. Rotin seemed to have aged five years in the short time since Summer had seen the Erah clanfather.

  Ke’lar inclined his head to his father. “I have obeyed you and returned.”

  “After five days’ absence!” Mirak burst out. “After shameless thievery of my son’s mate!”

  Rotin bared his fangs. “This is an Erah matter.”

  “Hardly,” Mirak spat.

  “This—” Ar’ar began, his throat working. “This is your child, Summer?”

  Ke’lar was right next to them but Summer couldn’t help drawing Emma a little closer to her. “Yes.”

  He shook his head a little, his glowing amber eyes wide. “Why did you not tell me?”

  “Two daughters of the Betari have been kept from their clan by the criminal acts of your son!” Mirak snarled, rounding on Rotin. “And you say this is not our concern?”

  “Summer is my mate,” Ke’lar growled. “Emma is my daughter.”

  “By what right do you claim them?” Mirak scoffed. “None! You stole this female—”

  “I admit what I have done!” Ke’lar’s voice rang out. “I took the lawful mate of another without offering challenge as a warrior should. I journeyed to a world forbidden to any who do not have the Council’s sanction. But I do not regret what I have done! I brought a mother to her child and—no matter what laws I have broken—I have done what is right!”

  Summer threw him a proud look.

  You tell ’em, honey!

  He addressed Ar’ar. “By what right do you claim her?” he demanded. “No female is to be taken from her offspring. That is the law. Your capture of her was forbidden!”

  Ar’ar’s fangs bared. “I did not know she had a child! How could I have? She never told me.”

  “But he captured her honorably,” Mirak broke in. “So Ar’ar’s claim is the lawful one. The child is here now and she too belongs to my son. I insist these females be returned to their true clan—the Betari!”

  “Mommy?”

  Emma could understand their language now but all the roaring was frightening her. Summer’s own ears were ringing from it.

  She swung Emma up to hold her on her hip. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she murmured, stroking her back. “You’re safe. I promise.”

  “Summer should never have been taken, never forced from her young one.” In the wake of understanding his son’s actions, the life and color had returned to Rotin’s face and he faced his old enemy confidently. “And so Ar’ar has lost all claim on her. She is Ke’lar’s.”

  “Your son is not a warrior!” Mirak’s fangs bared fully. “He is a criminal!”

  “He sought only to remedy the wrongs done by your son!” Rotin roared back.

  “My son will prove himself the warrior deserving of our clansisters,” Mirak spat. “By killing this thief!”

  “I will fight,” Ke’lar growled. “For the mate and child that are mine.”

  Rotin gave his son a short, proud nod. “Do you see? My son will fight as an honorable warrior should.”

  “As will mine,” Mirak snapped. “And we will see this matter decided now.”

  With a grim look at Summer, and Emma in her arms, Ar’ar followed his father, and the Betari clanbrothers as well.

  People were moving about, changing places, clearing room for the coming fight. The g’hir woman was already leading her children away.

  Jenna crossed quickly to Summer. She smiled at Emma but her face was tight with tension. “Hi, I’m Jenna. What’s your name?”

  “Emma.”

  “Hi, Emma,” she said. “If it’s okay with your mom I’d really like to take you inside to meet my little girl, Anna.”

  Emma’s eyes widened. “Inside the castle?”

  “The—? Uh, yeah,” Jenna said, nodding. “The castle.”

  “Is it okay, Mommy?”

  Ke’lar caught her eye and gave a firm nod.

  We sure don’t want her watching this. Actually, I’m not sure I want to watch this either . . .

  “Yup,” Summer said with false cheerfulness and put Emma down. “You go inside with Miss Jenna and I’ll come see you after, okay?”

  Emma’s brow creased. “After what?”

  “After your visit,” Ke’lar said smoothly. He crouched down but Emma still had to look up to meet his eye. “You will like the new baby.”

  “Oh,” Emma said, disappointed. “She’s just a baby?”

  “For now,” Ke’lar agreed. “But someday soon she will be old enough to be your playmate.” He smiled ruefully. “Remember always that I love you, Emma.”

  She threw her arms around his neck for a hug. “I love you too, Daddy.”

  He patted her back, his face taut, but when she pulled away he gave her another smile and stood. “You must go with our clansister Jenna. She can make icy tea.”

  “Iced tea,” Emma corrected. She looked up at Jenna. “I like lemonade.”

  Jenna gave a nod. “I’m sure I can wrangle up something.”

  “You be good, okay?” Summer knelt to hug her. “I’ll come get you soon.”

  “How long?” Emma demanded.

  Summer glanced to where Ke’lar stood a few paces away in grim conversation with Ra’kur and their father. She smoothed her daughter’s hair. “Not long.”

  “Have you ever been inside a castle before?” Jenna took Emma’s hand to lead her away. “This one is really, really old . . .”

  “Do
you wish to go with her?” Ke’lar asked seriously as he came to stand at her side.

  “No, I’ll stay here with you.”

  He hesitated. “This may be difficult for you to watch. The end is often . . . ugly.”

  Summer glanced at Ar’ar. “I actually don’t want either one of you to get hurt.”

  “He was your mate,” Ke’lar rumbled quietly. “Would you like to speak to him before we begin?”

  “No,” Summer said with a sigh. “I’ll speak to him afterwards.”

  “Afterwards?” His brow furrowed. “That will not be possible if I win.”

  Summer raised her eyebrows. “You mean if you win I can’t even talk to him anymore?”

  “Of course not,” Ke’lar said, surprised. “He will be dead.”

  Her breath stopped. “What?”

  “That is how the winner is declared,” Ke’lar growled with a narrowed look across the courtyard at Ar’ar. “When only one of us still lives.”

  Twenty-six

  Summer felt the blood drain from her face. “This is a fight to the death?”

  “Of course.”

  “You never—Why the fuck didn’t you say so?”

  He gave her a puzzled look. “I just did.”

  “No, I mean—” She passed her hand over her eyes. So. Fucking. Literal. “I meant, why didn’t you tell me before you agreed to do this?” His brow creased but before he could say anything she held her palm up. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. You aren’t doing it.”

  “You are my mate. She is our child.” His fangs flashed. “I will fight for you.”

  “Ke’lar—” She folded her arms. “I am not just going to stand here and watch you die!”

  He gave a short huff. “I did not realize you had such confidence in my skills.”

  “You aren’t doing this,” she insisted. “I won’t let you!”

  He searched her eyes for a moment.

  “I think you say this because you are human,” he said slowly. “Perhaps this is how as a human you would show you care for me. But I am g’hir and we are on my world.” Ke’lar took her hand. “If I die, remember you have only the moon’s cycle with Ar’ar. I have secured my father’s promise and Ra’kur’s they will be present for your Choosing Day. You will have your choice.”