by S. A. Ravel
She bent forward, shifting the baby's weight as she slid to her knees. "I know I've let you down, brought dishonor and strife to the tribe. But please. You've all known me since I was a girl. In your hearts, you know I wouldn't come to you if my cause weren't just."
Sanaa tilted her head down toward the floor, letting her black hair hide the tears welling in her eyes. She would have given them those too if she thought it would help, but skinwalkers didn't look kindly on weakness.
Heavy silence fell on the room, leaving only the sound of Sanaa's heart beating in her ears. The four lesser Elders had said their piece. By tribal law, Tribunars granted absolution, but those laws were outdated. Omar and Elena would let Ramon pass judgement.
"You’re right, Sanaa, I have had more hand in raising you than anyone. You’re my brother’s child. All I have left of him. Which is exactly why it hurts me to see you fall so far. You bore a child out of wedlock. By the law, you must atone for that. We cannot trust the word of one of us who has fallen so far."
Sanaa sank her teeth into her lip, squeezing until she could taste the twinge of blood in her mouth. Damn it, she hadn't murdered anyone or betrayed the tribe. She'd only had a baby. Words of objection sprang to Sanaa's mind, and she blocked them all behind her clamped lips.
"But the little one is an innocent, and the sins of the mother do not belong to the daughter. So, we offer her mercy. A champion may be chosen from one among the tribe to undertake the child's protection."
"What Bloodbone would fight on my daughter's behalf?" Ramon may have found the infant worthy of mercy, but others in the tribe wouldn't be so kind. Who would fight for the bastard child of an impure Skinwalker?
"One who has taken her into his household as his own blood."
"You mean the farthest you'll go is keeping the kid, while Sanaa fucks off and dies like a good little girl," Ronin said. She could hear the fury in his voice.
Sanaa leaned back on her heels, forgetting in her shock to hide her tears. Ronin was right, the Elders were willing to help, but only to a point and only if she paid with her blood. Her eyes moved down to her daughter, still drunk on her milk and napping in her blanket. She was an innocent. Sanaa's sins hadn't tainted her in the eyes of the tribe or the Dragon.
Wasn't her life a fair enough price to save her daughter?
A crashing sound rang out on the other side of the room. On instinct, Sanaa moved to cover her daughter as the Dragon roared.
Janna and Bastian scrambled toward the back of the room. Omar and Elena took defensive stances in front of Ramon.
Ronin glared at them all, chest heaving and eyes aglow with amber flames. "Weakling of a Chieftain! You would separate a suckling child from her mother for your own petty vengeance?"
Ramon held the dragon's gaze, his body rigid and defiant even in the face of a raging dragon shifter. "She has had many chances to atone–"
"Shut up!” Ronin roared. "I've listened to your judgement, skinwalkers, and now I have made mine. I will serve as champion for both daughter and mother, but my help won't be free."
Bastian spoke up, though he didn't move from his spot behind Omar. "O-our tribe has limited resources–"
The Dragon turned his blazing gaze on the Scholar until the smaller man fell silent. "The father, he bears as much guilt as Sanaa. My price is his identification and punishment."
Cold panic ripped through Sanaa. "Wait! Dragon, stop!" Damn it, why did she bring him to the meeting? How had she miscalculated so badly? She was exhausted and terrified. Neither made for good strategizing.
"Sanaa has refused to name him,” Elena said. “Repeatedly."
"And I fucking refuse now!" Sanaa didn't care if they saw her tears now. If she panicked, maybe they would think she was too afraid to name him. She didn’t care if they thought she was a coward. Better that than everyone knowing the truth.
"Have you no pride, woman?" Ronin spat. "Do you love this asshole so much you would hand your daughter over to a tribe who doesn't care whether she lives or dies?"
Did she love him? Sanaa didn't know the answer any more than she had the single night she spent with him. She sure as hell didn’t have time to think about it now. “It's not about that."
"But the Dragon speaks truth," Ramon said. "The father needs to atone as much as you."
"I understood what I was doing. I knew what would happen if anyone found out. He didn't." Now wasn't the time for a sudden romantic revelation. The pain, the abuse, it would end with her.
"Sanaa, if you name him you can both atone," Bastian said. "Then we can all move past this."
"And protect the child together," Elena added.
She wanted to believe them, they were the only family she’d had for most of her life, and for thirteen months she had weathered their sneers and insults. Sanaa told herself to be strong, to stay strong for her baby girl. But she was so tired already. And didn't she deserve their punishment?
Ramon sighed and straightened his shoulders. His eyes softened. “I would have turned anyone else out months ago,” he said.
"I know."
"This can’t continue, Sanaa. Name the father, so we may seek atonement from him or the girl is no longer welcome among us. You will no longer be welcome among us. “
His words left Sanaa reeling on her knees. They had finally backed her into a corner. If she didn't reveal the father's identity now, the Elders would sentence her and the baby to death. It hadn't occurred to any of them that she wasn't keeping the secret to protect herself.
Tears slid down her cheeks, the only ones she’d allowed herself to shed since the night she found out she was pregnant.
She turned to Ronin. His eyes still blazed with dragon fire and rage. Would he hate her more after she told the truth?
"I tried to stop you," she whispered. "But my baby needs the safety of the tribe...so do I."
The Dragon's brow furrowed, but Sanaa only saw it for a second before she turned back to the Chief. She closed her eyes, and braced her spirit for the words that would damn or save them all.
"My daughter is the child of the Dragon of the Mountain."
4
Sanaa pulled the baby back into her arms and struggled to her feet. Ronin had a fleeting thought that he should go to her, help her steady herself, but he was too consumed by his own shock to move. Sanaa left the makeshift community center without saying another word. Ronin stayed behind with the brainless, skinwalker Elders, each of them staring at him with slack jaws.
The Seer spoke, her high voice reminding him of a meddler from one of his stories. Meddlers always had a way of butting into the narrative when nobody wanted them there, dropping information they thought helpful. Mostly, it just bogged things down. “Dragon...if what that girl says is true..."
He counted the weeks in his head, though he already knew Sanaa was telling the truth. Hadn't he been marveling at the changes in her body since he last had her? The way pregnancy had softened her curves?
"It is," Ronin snapped. "And I will not be judged by the likes of you."
He turned and strode toward the exit, catching up to Sanaa easily as she walked toward his horse. Rage flared again as Ronin grabbed her by the arm and turned her around. But the angry words died on his lips as his eyes met hers.
Sanaa stared at him with heavy, red-rimmed eyes. There was no passion in her expression, no fire in her trembling body. Whatever treatment she had endured from her tribe had broken her. She'd surrendered the last pieces of herself to save her daughter's life—their daughter's life–because of his weakness.
Anger welled in Ronin's chest again, this time aimed at himself. He'd been so desperate to avoid entanglements, he left his woman and child at the mercy of backward scavengers. They may have shattered her, but his cowardice had given them the ammunition.
That was finished. The urge to reject the bond to Sanaa was nothing compared to the blood-burning need he felt to keep her safe. And other, less honorable, urges that were getting harder to ignore.
&nb
sp; "You will not kneel to them again," he said. She wouldn't bow to anyone ever again. Not if he had a say.
She looked at him, brow furrowed in confusion. Ronin didn’t elaborate. There were more pressing matters to deal with.
“Where is your home? We need to go there and collect your things.” It would be a cold day in hell before he let her or the baby spend another night surrounded by the skinwalkers. They were his to protect.
Sanaa stared at him for a moment as if she heard his words, but didn’t understand them. “I told you…there’s nothing left there.”
“There might be something inside it worth saving.”
Had this woman no memories? No trinkets of sentimental value? For fuck’s sake, she had an infant!
“Even if there was, how would we get it back up in the mountains? Are you gonna change and fly it up there? Leave me to ride a horse up a trail, I don’t know, with a baby on my back?”
Ronin bared his teeth at her, hating that she was right. If he had known what he was riding into, he would have prepared better. At a minimum, he would have fought for her from the beginning. Hell, he would have asked more about her position in the community.
But you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to know too much about her.
"Sanaa?" A voice called as heavy footsteps approached them. Ronin turned to see a male Skinwalker with russet skin and close-cropped black hair. His deep-set black eyes jerked from Ronin back to Sanaa as the smile on his face wavered.
A weak smile came to Sanaa's lips, just barely grazing her eyes. "Kane! I didn't know you were back."
The man, Kane, turned his eyes toward the infant in Sanaa's arms. The girl was awake now–probably from the tension emanating from her mother–and rewarded the attention with a toothless grin.
“You must be the one all the fuss is about.” The skinwalker’s voice rose to the high, sing-song timber people used with infants. “Aren’t you a little sweetheart?”
“She’s none of your concern, skinwalker," Ronin grunted. He placed a hand on Sanaa's shoulder and turned her away from the man. "Let's go."
Sanaa shrugged out of his grasp. "Oh, stop it. He’s my cousin. Kane, this is–"
"The Dragon in the Mountain,” Kane said as he looked Ronin up and down. "I heard the shouting. Dad will come around, Sanaa. You just have to give him a chance to process this. You know how he is about change.”
“He’s had thirteen months to work through it,” Ronin said.
Kane raised an eyebrow. “How long have you had?”
A low growl rumbled in Ronin’s chest. The words stung more than he cared to admit. Or was it the way she shied away from his touch that had him on edge?
The male skinwalker smiled in triumph and turned back to Sanaa. “I’ve got a pickup with a clean cargo hold. It’s yours for the day if you need it. I’ll even throw in some muscle for free.
As much as he hated to admit it, the Skinwalker annoyed Ronin far less once he proved himself useful. But Sanaa shook her head. “You know I can’t. I’m in enough trouble as it is. So are you.”
Kane wrapped his arm around Sanaa’s shoulders. “Please, he hasn’t stopped riding my ass since I left for boot camp. What’s another lecture or ten?”
It was only a short walk to Sanaa's trailer, but it took nearly twenty minutes since she refused to do the reasonable thing and climb onto Bandit's back and neither man was willing to leave her side.
Ronin didn't understand Sanaa’s reluctance to return to her home until he saw the devastation with his own eyes. The word "home" would have been generous for the rusted trailer in the best of times, but the attack left the pitiful thing tipped over on its side. Broken glass stained with black fluid from the frenzied hell spawn littered the dirt.
Kane climbed up the side of the trailer and lowered himself inside to grab what he could. Ronin stayed beside his daughter and Sanaa. He could feel the eyes of the tribe watching them, but none of the other skinwalkers came to bother them or to help. It was just as well, Ronin wasn't sure he could be close to one of them without ripping out their throats. Someone needed to absorb the brunt of his wrath.
Ronin led the way back up the mountain path on Bandit's back while Sanaa and the infant rode in the truck. When they arrived, Sanaa disappeared into the house, probably to feed and bathe their fussing daughter.
Their daughter. Another pang of guilt. Ronin stowed Bandit in the stable and returned to the house to find Kane leaning against his pickup truck, arms folded across his chest.
"I thought we'd have us a chat, you and I," he said.
Ronin let the dragon come to the surface. "I've had enough of your kind for one day."
Kane canted his head toward the door. "She's had enough hurt for a lifetime. Are you planning to add to it?"
"Careful, boy. You're insulting a dragon on his own land. That isn’t wise if you value your health or your life."
The skinwalker held the dragon's gaze, passion flashing in his eyes though a smile came to his lips. "I'm asking the man who knocked up my cousin what his intentions are. Given the circumstances I think that’s more than a fair question. There's no call to be insulted unless you plan to fuck her over more than you already have."
The silence was damning, but Ronin didn't have an answer to fill it. Anger and disgust had consumed him since he set foot in the community center. No, before that. Since he rode into town on his horse and saw the conditions in which Sanaa and the child lived. The target of his venom had only shifted in the intervening hour, from the village, to the Elders, to Sanaa, and finally to himself, but the strength of it never ebbed. Rage was a far more fitting emotion for a dragon to indulge than self-loathing.
"If you really want to help her, go back to the Elders. Ask them for absolution for your sins.”
“You people have a fucked up sense of priority. A dark walker attacks her trailer, and all anybody can talk about are sins and slights. Who fucking cares?”
“We do. She does.”
Ronin quirked an eyebrow. The skinwalker had an answer for everything. “I don’t. I’ll deal with the dark walker myself. Whether you all have the stomach to help doesn’t matter to me.”
Kane shook his head. “Damned fool, you don’t even know why you went there today, do you?”
“She had some idea that your old men would help her. Clearly she was mistaken.”
“You thought a bunch of pacifists living in the desert were going to help her take on a dark walker?” The skinwalker didn’t bother to hide his amusement.
Now that he heard it out loud, it did strike Ronin as stupid. What could they have done that he couldn’t? Not a damned thing.
“Are you saying she set me up?”
“That’s not like her. If she wanted to tell them, she would have done it already. It would have saved her a lot of pain.”
“I won't answer to decrepit, old men for a moment of weakness.” The words on his tongue left a film of guilt, which only enraged Ronin more. His own foolishness had condemned Sanaa and his daughter. His foolishness and the memory of a woman he lost long ago. The guilt was as much for the baby as it was for Sanaa, and he hated, in that moment, to be reminded of either of them.
Most men would have the good sense to back down when staring a pissed-off dragon in the face. Kane, however, kept right on going. "I don't know how dragons handle their affairs, but skinwalkers take care of their own.”
"I've seen the care your kind takes, and I'm not impressed."
"Knock it off!" Sanaa stepped back into the entranceway, padding along the stones in her bare feet. "I can handle it, Kane."
Clearly, the other skinwalker wasn't convinced. "He needs to know what's expected of him."
"I said I can handle it. Go home before they start saying I’m corrupting you or something.“
Sanaa wasn't giving an inch, and, in the face of his raging cousin, Kane finally backed down. His expression softened and he nodded, reaching toward her with open arms.
“You win, kidd
o.”
Hell no! Ronin roared, eyes blazing and fire coming to his chest as he swung his fist, connecting square with Kane's jaw and sending the Skinwalker crashing to the dirt.
"What the hell?" she shouted, fury flashing in her eyes. Damn, those black eyes were beautiful when kissed by fury. All Ronin had to do was reach out and rip the flimsy tank top from her chest to expose her milk-filled breasts to the air, to his fingers–
Kane's boisterous laugh broke through Ronin's roving thoughts. "Think I just got my answer," he said as he climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt from his jeans.
Sanaa's brow furrowed and her eyes moved back to her cousin. Pity. "About what?"
"Never mind, Sanaa. My number is still the same. Call me if you need anything, and I'll do what I can."
"Sanaa and my daughter will never want for anything, Skinwalker."
"Fucking, enough!" Sanaa said through gritted teeth. Kane had already climbed into the cab of his truck and turned the engine over.
Sanaa watched as the truck pulled back down the path and disappeared around the bend. Ronin watched her, lamenting the worry that filtered into her expression. That was no good either. His woman's mind should never be uncertain. A dragon's woman needed to be strong to raise their young, to foster their community. He had to do better for her. For both of them.
"Whatever you have to say to me...can it wait until morning?" she asked.
The softness in her tone called to him. It sapped the anger from him, replacing it with an instinct to wrap her in his arms to shield her.
Ronin planted his feet in place. "Just this once."
Without another word, Sanaa turned and disappeared back into the house. Ronin stayed outside, watching the empty space she left behind, a single question in his mind.
When the hell did Sanaa become his woman?
Hours after sunset, Ronin sat on his front stoop, staring at the stars. Details of the day since Sanaa called for his help played in his mind. The child had been excited to see him when he found them in the mountains. Had the blood they shared spoken to her? Had she known then her father had come to her rescue before even he did?
