Born with a Silver Moon_Galaxa Warriors

by Milly Taiden

  She kicked sand at him. “This is so not funny, Jag.”

  “No,” he chuckled, giving her a sheepish look. “It’s not. But Ranat’s right. You wear my mark. My xenos claimed you last night, when we…well, you know.”

  Riley glared at him. “You don’t need to elaborate for the masses. I remember.”

  “Well, you’re the one that said you wanted to be with me forever,” Jag shot back. “Remember that?”

  Her sharp gaze softened. “I do.”

  “That mark means you’re my chosen mate. Ivy has the same mark…from Vander.”

  Riley frowned, sparing a glance for her mark. “I’ve never seen this on Ivy’s back.”

  “It doesn’t have to be on her back, but it’s definitely somewhere on her body. It depends on where Vander bit her.” He shrugged. “It’s a shifter thing.”

  She lifted her chin. “Do you have one, too?”

  “No. Only the chosen mates wear the mark. It’s an outward sign that you belong to me.”

  Exhaling, she shook her head. “Belong?” Her voice raised an octave. “What is it with you people? Is it a leftover animal thing, like marking your territory? Or is it just proprietary?”

  “Ri, don’t get caught up in semantics. It’s not an ownership thing. A claiming is not much different than two humans becoming husband and wife.”

  “So I can divorce you then, is what you’re saying. I can go back to Earth and it won’t matter,” Riley countered.

  Jag looked at her but didn’t reply.

  “I didn’t think so,” she crossed her arms in front of her chest. “So we’re stuck together now, even if it doesn’t work out?”

  Jag took her hand. “A man’s xenos knows when it finds its mate. Plus, Gerri Wilder is never wrong.”

  “Gerri!” She went to jerk her hand free, but he held it. “Holy shit, Jag. Was this whole thing a setup?”

  “No, of course not!” he shot back “You’re the one who suggested the oasis. But Gerri knows things, and she knew we were right for one another before we did.”

  The others stood watching in awed silence. Even the shaman was amused. Except Riley didn’t find the humor. “This is too much. We need to get back to the palace. Hell, Jag. We’re supposed to be helping Ivy and Vander plan their wedding and coronation. What are they going to say when they find out we’re married?”

  He looked at the ground and then at her. “That’s just it. We can’t say anything. Not to them. Not to anyone. Technically, it’s against royal protocol for me to formally take a mate before my brother. He’s king.”

  “Formally?” she asked. “You call a bunch of drums in the middle of the night and an erotic dance formal? Come on, Jag. Even I think it’s kind of hokey and suspicious. What about this?” She looked at the blade in his hand. “Do we still need to brand me? And what about the mark on my back? It’s not like people aren’t going to notice.”

  He shrugged. “Claiming you is one thing. Formally taking you as my mate is another. As for this,” he held up the blade. “That’s up to you, too. I’ll have to tell Vander, in case there’s fallout.”

  “Then we have nothing to worry about, do we, because I don’t think any of these people will be at the palace anytime soon.”

  He inhaled, lifting one shoulder. “Probably not, but even nomads have accountings, and technically, we’ll be listed among those married, even without the completed rite.” He paused. “Then again, there’ll be fallout no matter what.”

  “You mean we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t?” She looked at him to clarify.

  He nodded. “If you accept the ritual mark, then you’re not happy and it taints our relationship. If you don’t, then I have to let Vander know what happened so he can do damage control, plus he’ll know technically we married before him.”

  “Even though it was in error.”

  “Yes, even though.”

  “Well, let’s not linger. That way less people will be inclined to question.”

  Before she could turn, he grabbed and pulled her close. “Are you sorry I claimed you? After all, you were the one who suggested we come here…and I did ask.”

  She looked at him. “I know. And the answer is no, I’m not sorry. I just need time to adjust.” She looked at him. “What are we going to do about all this?” She glanced around. “I mean, we’re together, right?”

  “Right.” He kissed her nose.

  Riley looked at the shaman still standing with Ranat. She and Jag had an audience for the entire argument, but at least the holy man’s face was soft, if not amused. She cleared her throat and stepped back from Jag, but he kept her hand tight.

  The shaman stepped forward and covered their hands with his own. He said the same words he spoke as the others marked their marriages, and Riley’s eyes found Jag’s and locked. She hated the idea of this…it smacked too much of possession…but she loved Jag.

  There it was. Bold and undecorated. Raw. She loved the man. The bad boy. The soft touch. All of him. And she was his. HE chose HER.

  A small smirk curled the corner of her mouth and she shrugged. “What the hell. If you piss me off, I’ll just get a real tattoo to cover it once I get back to Earth.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, stunned.

  She nodded. “I’m quiet and strong, Jag. But like you, I know what I want and it’s you.”

  “Riley—” He pulled her in tightly, practically knocking the shaman out of the way and crushed his mouth to hers. “I love you, little mouse.”

  Her heart squeezed. Claiming her was one thing. But loving her, too? Her breath caught, and tears pricked her eyes. “Damn it, Jag. I love you, too.” She sniffed, tears trickling. “Since you made me cry anyway, you might as well do the knife thing, now…but so help me my sharp mouse teeth will give you a brand you won’t forget if you get carried away.”

  “You sure you don’t want to think about this?” he asked, gesturing with the blade.

  She shook her head. “No. If I think too much, I’ll chicken out.” She paused. “So, with this…what do we do after Vander and Ivy do their formal thing?”

  “We can have a big palace wedding, too. If you want.” Jag shrugged. “Or we can invite our nearest and dearest back here and dance all over again.”

  She shoved him playfully. “Okay. At least that’ll give me time to think.”

  “About what?” He grinned.

  “If I’ll want to marry you all over again, or just make you miserable for the rest of your life.” She leaned in and kissed him quickly. “Now get busy with that blade. Our new bestie keeps nodding.” She glanced at the shaman and the man smiled.

  17

  Jag slid off his horse and walked around to the palace groom helping Riley. With a smirk, she looked at him as she took an embroidered bag from the back of her saddle.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “A gift. From the old woman.” She opened the stitched top to show him her gold dress and strappy shoes inside. “According to Ranat, she didn’t think it seemly for me to travel dressed in such a ‘revealing costume’ now that I was ‘properly wed,’ quote unquote.” She chuckled. “Considering what she dressed me in for that Bedouin burlesque, my dress is pretty tame.”

  He took the bag from her and handed it to his page. “Well, she had ulterior motives.” Giving her a quick kiss, he slipped his hand into his pocket. “And they worked.” From his pocket he pulled out a wide enamel bracelet and held it in his open palm. “A gift from the shaman.”

  “For me?” she asked, taking the ornament from his hand. “It’s beautiful, but I don’t understand why?”

  Jag slipped it onto her left wrist, and the width covered the blade’s mark perfectly. “That’s why. Our new friend understood our dilemma, but more importantly, he understood your sacrifice.” Jag lifted her hand and kissed her palm. “And so do I.”

  She smiled, palming his cheek. “That’s okay, babe. Just remember it’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for and one good
blade deserves another, so be a good boy.”

  He laughed, giving her hand a playful shove. “Come on. Let’s get cleaned up. I know you want to see the kids.”

  “What do you mean Kes ran away?” Jag stared at Mrs. Abbott. “We’ve been gone for exactly one day! Why weren’t they supervised?”

  Riley’s throat tightened with alarm. “Where’s Lettie?”

  “She’s fine. I left her with the queen and Lady Karis. The others are helping to search the palace and the grounds.”

  Ri jerked her eyes to Jag. “What if he was taken? What if he didn’t run away? Maddox was nearly murdered, and we knew there could be a connection to the kids.”

  He took her hand and tugged her toward the door.

  “Where are we going?” Her voice cracked.

  Jag picked up his pace. “To talk to Lettie. She might be six years old, but that little girl is just like you. She notices everything.”

  They got to the royal apartments. Four guards stood at the entrance, stepping aside as Jag and Riley approached.

  “Ivy?” he called pushing the door wide.

  “In here—” she replied.

  It was as if they never left. Lettie was playing on the floor, watching movies with tons of snacks, but Ivy’s face told a different story. She had the same thought as Riley. “Kes was taken.”

  Riley moved to the side of the couch and sat on the edge. “Lettie?” she said softly.

  The little girl looked up from her building blocks. “Riley! You’re back!” She got up and launched herself into Riley’s arms. “I thought you ran away, too.”

  Riley exchanged looks with Jag and Ivy. She loosened the girl’s grip on her neck and settled her back a bit so she could look at her. “What makes you think Kes ran away? Maybe he’s in the palace hiding.”

  The child shook her head. “I know he ran away because he told me.”

  Ivy’s eyes widened. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell that to us before?”

  “Kes told me not to tell until Riley and Jag got back,” she blinked as if they should have known that already.

  Jag ran a hand through his hair. “Smart kid. He was buying himself time.”

  Riley cupped Lettie’s cheeks. “Did Kes tell you why he ran?” She eyed the child. “You have to tell us everything, Lettie. Kes is in danger and we can’t help him if we don’t know what you know.”

  “I…” She hesitated and then looked at Jag. “We saw the nomad man.”

  Riley dropped her hands from Lettie’s face. Bors was in the palace.

  “When?” Jag asked, moving to sit thigh to thigh with Riley on the couch.

  Lettie’s lip quivered. “Last night. We saw him from our window. He was in the garden talking to another man.”

  Jag slipped the girl’s tiny hand into his and held it gently. “Do you know who the nomad man spoke to? Would you recognize him again?”

  “Kes and me saw him in the palace when we first got here.” She nodded.

  She went on to describe the man, and Riley sucked in a breath. Lettie described Sharan Dul to a tee.

  “Kes said he was gonna follow them,” Lettie added.

  Ivy stood, resting one hand on her lower back. “Where did you see Kes last, honey? I need to tell King Vander and the others looking for him.”

  “The garden. By the gate,” she replied, and this time her lip trembled. “Is Kes in big trouble?”

  Ivy shook her head as Riley gathered the girl to her lap. “Of course not,” Ivy replied. “We just want him back with us, safe and sound.”

  Jag got up from the couch, his gaze moving from the scrunched little face on Riley’s chest to his wife’s worried expression. “I’d better go. We need to get trackers on this before we lose their scents to the elements.”

  Lettie perked up. “Trackers? You mean like Papa?”

  “Exactly like your papa.” Jag nodded.

  Riley moved Lettie to the couch, motioning for Ivy. “I want to talk to Vander, too,” she said, getting up.

  “Riley, no.” Jag shook his head. “It’s best if you stay here with Lettie and Ivy. I know my brother. After what happened with Ivy, he’s most likely got men on the perimeter already.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “How would he know to do that? He has no idea what we know. You can fill Vander in, but I’m going with you, Jag. Nothing short of a royal command will stop me.”

  “Riley—”

  Ivy looked at her brother-in-law. “Our mouse has roared, Jag. Take it from me. It’ll be easier on you if she goes along. God knows what mischief she’ll get up to if you leave her to her own devices. She might take it upon herself to go looking by herself.”

  Riley grinned at her friend. “Gee, that’s a great idea. Thanks, girl!”

  “Are you kidding me? No and no,” Jag argued.

  Ignoring him, Ri lifted a questioning hand to Ivy. “Do you think Henley would be up for the adventure? The two of us pulling a Thelma and Louise?”

  “Good God! I seriously hate you both right now.” Jag’s blue eyes flashed. He exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. “But I hate what your own impulsivity would do more.” He glared at them both. “All right, you win. But not one move without my say so, or you stay behind. Got it?”

  Riley nodded, knowing not to push another inch.

  Jag shielded his eyes, scanning the horizon. The trackers hadn’t picked up as much as a twig snap in miles.

  “He’s a little boy on his own. He couldn’t have just fallen off the face of the planet. He would need to rest at some point,” Damen said, taking a sip from his canteen.

  “His father was a tracker. I know Kes is only eight years old, but something tells me his old man taught him a few tricks of the trade. A good tracker notices everything but leaves no trace.” Jag frowned. “When I find Sharan, I’m going to slit his throat.”

  Vander looked at his brother. “And Bors is mine. This time, dead will be dead. I should’ve ripped his head from his shoulders the last time.”

  Damen’s jaw tightened. “It’s not your fault, Vander. We were all there.”

  “The horses need water,” Riley said. “If we’re going to find Kes, we need to see if anyone’s seen him or at least signs of him.”

  Vander nodded. “We can stop at the same tent village we did when we searched for Ivy. They were helpful then. Maybe someone spotted the boy.” He pointed toward the tents dotting the horizon.

  Jag’s eyes moved to one of the trackers. The man held his hand up for them to stop. “The boy was here.” He gestured to the sand on one side of the path. “But he wasn’t alone.”

  The king moved his horse forward. “How do you know?”

  “Footprints.” He pointed to the ground. “Here…here,” he paused. “And there. They’re different in sizes. To an untrained eye they looked like uneven ridges made by wind, but they’re distinct enough.” The tracker looked up. “He was taken from this point.”

  Jag looked at his brother. “We can leave the horses at the oasis. I ran into Ranat last night. He’s camping with members of his tribe. We can borrow camels to make the trek. The horses will never survive the boiling sand.”

  “You ran into Ranat? At the club?” Vander questioned.

  “Not exactly,” Jag hedged, glancing at Riley.

  She piped up. “Ivy told me about the oasis not far from here. I wanted to see it, so we took a little detour.”

  “A detour, huh.” Vander bit the side of his tongue. “This detour didn’t happen to include a moonlight swim in the hot spring?”

  Throwing a hand up, Jag exhaled. “We’re supposed to be looking for a little boy. What difference does it make if Riley and I hooked up?”

  “Based on the look on Riley’s face, I’d say she cares.” Vander eyed him.

  Damen chuckled. “Busted, dude.”

  “Shut up, Damen. Maybe we should ask Henley how she feels about you keeping it casual.” Jag exhaled, raking a hand through his hair. “Let’s find Kes, first. You two goons c
an razz me about my love life afterward.”

  Clicking the inside of his cheek, Damen urged his horse forward. “Funny. That knife at your waist is very curious. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a sand nuptial blade, but you were only hooking up last night, right?”

  Vander’s eyes moved to his brother and then to Riley. “Anything you two want to tell me?” he asked with a grin.

  “No,” he replied. “Can we please get going?”

  Riley’s eyes met his, but Jag gave his head a quick shake. No one said another word as the tracking party rode into the tent village. They immediately headed for the largest tent, as they did the last time. The tent flap opened, and the same women who helped them before stepped out, but this time she was flanked by a man.

  “I am the chieftain of this village.” The man stared at the king but didn’t bow. “What do you want?”

  Damen moved to ride forward, his grip on his sword, but Vander lifted a staying hand. “I am Vander Kasaval. We are looking for a lost child from the palace and need assistance.”

  The man’s eyes didn’t blink. “I know who you are. You come asking for assistance, yet you’ve left this village to wither. You’re looking for a lost child? Well, our children suffer. Where’s the assistance you promised? Our food is nearly gone. We need medicine for our sick and elderly, yet your man comes and takes what little we have.”

  “My man?” Vander questioned.

  He nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Yes. The one who comes in the name of the Serene Lord of the Sands.”

  Jag looked at Vander.

  Vander’s jaw tightened. “The man you speak of is Sharan Dul. He nor his master represent the palace. If he is stealing from villages in my name, then I will put an end to it immediately, but right now the life of a child is at stake.”

  The man nodded. “What do you need?”

  “Camels,” Vander said matter-of-factly. “As before, we will leave our horses as collateral with the same reward paid upon our return.”

  The man studied Vander’s face before inclining his head. With a nod, his men led a group of camels from their stable. The woman stepped forward and gestured toward the edge of the village. “Fill your canteens before you leave. It will be miles before you’ll pass another spring.”