by Liz Craven
Nerves fluttered in her belly as she moved towards Talon and the officer.
“Lia, Lord Constantine is here. He wants to see you,” Talon told her quietly, slipping a supportive arm around her waist and watching her with concerned eyes.
“Lord Constantine?”
Talon’s arm tightened reflexively around her. “Your father.”
She blinked as understanding dawned. “The Lassan donor. Why does he want to see me?”
Something dark swam in Talon’s eyes, but quickly disappeared behind his cool facade. “He claims he wants to meet his daughter.”
“Why?”
To Lia’s surprise, Talon visibly battled back the urge to storm out of the room and wreak bloody havoc. With his bloodlust under control—barely—he tried to address Lia’s question. “You are the only child the Lassan line will ever have.”
She nodded. “The same for the Gemadam line.”
Addressing the Guard, Talon asked, “Is Lord Constantine armed? How many are with him?”
The man saluted and offered Lia a formal bow. “Welcome home, Damaia,” he said reverently. “I’m Colonel Alaric Turei of the Home Guard.”
Beneath the adoration, Lia glimpsed a spark of pure male interest. She didn’t doubt Talon had seen the spark, given the harsher-than-necessary tone he used to address the guard.
“Answer the questions.”
The Guard’s attention snapped back to Talon at the barked order. “Lord Constantine arrived with two personal guards. The guards surrendered their blasters. We searched all three of them and found no concealed weapons.”
Lia could almost see Talon’s mind turning over his options. She knew the unannounced arrival of Lord Constantine raised his suspicions, but the political ramifications of turning away the Damaia’s “father” might be disastrous. If they allowed Constantine to meet Lia, Talon would need to be absolutely certain of Lia’s safety.
Talon surprised her by placing the decision in her hands. “Lia, do you want to meet Lord Constantine?”
“To turn him away would offend the House of Lassan,” Lia pointed out.
Talon caught Vardin’s eye and waited for the large man to lumber over to them. “Lord Constantine wishes to meet the Damaia. He is a member of the House of Lassan. He waits in the lobby. I’d like you to search him for weapons and escort him—and only him—in here.”
Vardin saluted and silently turned to carry out Talon’s orders. “Colonel Turei, I want you to send Lord Constantine’s guard home. Have three of your men escort them and report back when they reach their destination.”
“Lord Constantine—” The Colonel began.
“Will be escorted back to his home in the company of Guard members.” Talon’s tone brooked no argument, and the Colonel reluctantly left with his orders.
When the soldier left the reception area, Talon’s family immediately surrounded them.
“What’s wrong?” Teresa asked.
“Lord Constantine is here.”
“How’d he know the Damaia arrived today?” Malachi demanded.
“The Lassan and Gemadam Houses were informed this morning—as were the High Priest and Priestess. I expected them to arrive, not a representative of the Lassan line,” Talon explained.
“No press,” Lia interjected.
“What?” Talon looked startled, almost as though he’d forgotten she stood beside him.
“No press. No news cameras. No media,” Lia explained. “The religious sect only comes when the media is present.”
The cynical statement earned her several owl-eyed stares Lia would have found amusing had she not been anticipating another assassination attempt—this one at the hands of her “father”.
Before anyone vocally objected to her statement, the door opened, and Vardin escorted a tall, slender man into the reception area.
Talon hauled Lia tightly against his side, and her brothers-in-law flanked them in a tight semi-circle. The protective gesture surprised and heartened her, as she faced Lord Constantine.
She’d gotten her unusual eyes from him. For the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Her mind snagged on the strange genetic link she shared with the man in front of her and couldn’t get loose.
Lord Constantine executed a perfunctory bow with an awkward movement. Lia assumed he was accustomed to receiving obeisance rather than giving it.
“By the Powers,” the man breathed as he stared at Lia. “She is the living embodiment of the Prophetess.”
“She can hear you,” Talon snapped out.
Lia swallowed a smile. For someone who enjoyed talking around her, he sure took quick offense when someone else did the same thing.
Lord Constantine blinked in surprised at Talon’s tone. “Forgive me, Damaia. I was surprised.”
Lia inclined her head, uncertain how to address the man.
“Welcome home, Damaia. I would be honored if you would allow me to call you daughter,” Lord Constantine’s words rang with the cadence of a practiced speech, and Lia found herself wondering if meeting her made him nervous because of their blood tie or because she was the Damaia.
Lord Constantine took a step towards Lia, only to draw up sharply against the sharp blade Vardin laid against his throat.
Lia barely registered Vardin’s action when she found herself shoved behind Talon. To her amazement, all her brothers-in-law had pulled a weapon of some kind. Ilexa and Teresa had also found themselves shoved behind the line of men. Lia’s gaze caught her sister-in-law’s and they shared a silent moment of exasperation.
Returning her attention to the melee before her, Lia saw the man had pulled his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. Talon nodded at Vardin, who lowered his dagger, revealing a thin line of red across Lord Constantine’s neck.
With the knife gone, Lord Constantine’s expression turned indignant. “I merely wished to greet my daughter,” the man protested.
The word “daughter” sounded strange when applied to her. Lia was having a hard enough time dealing with Talon’s blood kin; the idea of her own was too bizarre to contemplate.
“You can greet her from where you stand,” Talon informed him coldly.
Lord Constantine looked as though he would protest, but his eyes flickered back to Lia and his ire visibly dissipated. He stared at her, desperately searching for something to say.
Lia took pity on him. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Constantine.”
Gratitude softened the tension in his face. “I’m sorry it took me so long to…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Meet you.”
“Convenient,” sneered Tristan. “Now that she’s ready to ascend the throne, you take an interest in her.”
“Tristan,” Talon barked a warning.
Tristan’s ferocity in her defense startled Lia, and she wondered if his passion stemmed from loyalty to his family—which she supposed now included her—or if something else about the Lassan heir roused his fury.
Lord Constantine didn’t take his attention from Lia, clearly directing his response to her. “I was fifteen when the decision to…conceive the Damaia was made, and the subsequent order to sterilize the direct lines of the two Houses was issued. I was young and resentful. Over the years, the desire to know the only offspring I will ever have grew.”
“Yet you made no overtures to her,” Ilexa said with icy politeness.
“My first attempt at a meeting occurred a few weeks after you disappeared. It was years before the Council admitted you weren’t away at school, but had gone missing.”
The sincerity radiating from the man tugged at Lia’s heart. She stepped forward, still uncertain of what she’d say, when Talon yanked her back.
The infuriating man didn’t even spare her a glance, but addressed Lord Constantine. “Regardless, attempts on Lady Ophelia’s life have been made in the name of your House.”
“Many individuals do things, claiming the Lassan name. Do not confuse the actions of fanatics with the House
of Lassan. No attempt on my daughter has ever been sanctioned by my line,” Lord Constantine declared with chilling finality.
“Lord Constantine—” Lia began.
The older man winced at the title. “I realize we are strangers and addressing me as ‘father’ would make you uncomfortable. Perhaps you might forgo the formality of my title and address me as Constantine?”
The humble request touched Lia, and she elbowed Talon to gain her release. She stepped closer to the Lassan heir, ignoring the battle-ready tension running through those around her. “Constantine, I would be pleased if you would call me Lia.”
The man offered her a full-fledged smile. “I’m delighted to finally meet you, Lia.”
Talon moved to stand behind her. He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled her flush against him. “Forgive our suspicious manner, but Lia’s safety overrides courtesy.”
While his words were diplomatic, he didn’t even try to hide the threat. Lia tensed, and Talon tightened his grip on her shoulders in silent warning. Constantine and Talon glared at each other over her head for a solid minute, before some unspoken and unfathomable understanding passed between them.
Lord Constantine gave Talon a curt nod before lowering his gaze to Lia’s. “It was a pleasure to spend time, however brief, with you. I hope we can get to know one another better once you are settled.”
“I look forward to it,” Lia replied, surprised to find the statement true.
Colonel Turei appeared at Lord Constantine’s elbow. “My lord, if you will come with me.”
Constantine cast one last look at Lia and turned to follow the guard out.
As soon as the doors slid closed behind them, Dante turned to Talon. “Let’s get your wife to a more secure location before more unexpected guests arrive.”
Lia’s stomach fluttered with pleasure at Dante’s casual reference to her. She liked being Talon’s wife rather than the Damaia.
Still, she gritted her teeth when Talon hauled her unceremoniously from the room.
Chapter Fifteen
Talon felt so light, he’d have sworn someone had turned down the gravity on the planet. He watched his young wife staring out the window at the passing scenery, his triumphant emotions bordering on glee.
He’d done it. He’d found the Damaia, returned her to her people and secured his planet’s peace. He ignored the pensive look on Lia’s face, determined to savor the satisfaction of the moment.
Somehow, Malachi had found a transport large enough to carry his entire family, as well as Thane and Vardin. The worn transport was clean, but given its age, it was dubious anyone would suspect the Damaia traveled within it.
Caden had been dismissed and had returned to his family for a visit. Now that they were planetside, the Home Guard held the responsibility for the Damaia’s security. Thane and Vardin had chosen to stay at the invitation from his mother, who considered the two warriors members of her extended family and treated them as such. He’d had to hide a smile when Teresa ordered the fierce Inderian around as though he were a small child.
“You must be overjoyed to finally be home,” his mother said to Lia.
So much for savoring the moment.
Lia sat silently on the seat, Asha in her lap. The tight grip she had on her pet gave the appearance she held the animal still. Talon knew better. She clutched Asha the way a child held a blanket. The stress of returning to N’yota rode her hard and while she’d seemed sympathetic to Lord Constantine, he worried about what emotional toll the meeting had taken.
Lia offered his mother a wan smile in response, but Teresa’s children did not live in fear of the woman because she accepted evasive answers. Her mahogany eyes narrowed on her daughter-in-law. “You do not seem pleased to have returned to your childhood home—or your people.”
“I’m a little overwhelmed,” Lia replied. Talon could have warned her the innocent look on her face wouldn’t deter Teresa.
“It is more than that,” Teresa announced, studying Lia’s face closely. “Why are you not dancing in delight at your return?”
Lia shot him a desperate look, before turning back to Teresa. “I’m not the type to ‘dance in delight’.”
Talon decided to come to his wife’s rescue. “Mother—”
“Not now Talon.” Teresa reached out and touched Lia’s cheek in a motherly caress. “Forgive an old woman her nosiness. As a mother, I cannot be happy if my children are not happy. You are one of my children.”
Lia looked stunned at Teresa’s sincerity. “I…” Her voice trailed off.
“That’s enough, Mother,” Talon said with warning in his voice. “Lia isn’t used to…familial concern.”
Teresa sniffed and glared at her son. “You make it sound as though I am torturing your wife.”
Talon smiled at his mother’s outrage. The woman was a force to be reckoned with. “Not at all, but I suggest we ease Lia into the family slowly.”
Dante laughed out loud. “What Big Brother is trying to say is ‘back off’.”
Talon turned a hard look at his brother, before saying in a threatening tone. “Dante.”
“Don’t worry, Talon. We aren’t going to torment your bride,” Dante said, unperturbed by his brother’s annoyance. “Lia, call off your brute of a husband. I promise we won’t harass you.”
Lia turned wide eyes to her husband, and Talon read her surprise at the idea she had the ability to “call him off”. He almost laughed out loud. The woman could wrap him around her little finger with the barest flutter of her lashes if she only knew it.
Fortunately for him, she didn’t.
Lia turned those unusual eyes back to his mother. He watched her force a smile to her lips. Ignoring Dante, she told Teresa, “I have grown accustomed to a life outside the public eye. I admit to being reluctant to having my every action critiqued.”
His mother reached across the small transport to pat his wife’s knee. “Don’t worry, Lia. N’yota will be so glad to have you home, we will not demand too much of you.”
Vibrant, starburst eyes met his. He saw despair in those beautiful eyes and knew his mother’s platitudes had provided little comfort to his wife.
Talon moved from his seat across from Lia to sit next to her. He shoved Ilexa out of the way without a second thought. Wrapping an arm around his wife, he tried to offer her what comfort he physically could. “We’ll have to find ways you can get away without too much fuss.”
“And the palace is large. You will have ample space to yourselves,” Teresa interjected.
“Palace?” Lia asked.
“The palace was completed several years ago,” Malachi responded.
“I don’t recall any palace being planned,” Lia said.
“It is the central building in the new government citadel. The entire complex was planned before you were born,” Teresa said.
“I see,” Lia replied quietly.
“It’s a real work of art,” Malachi continued, warming to the topic. “I’ve been inside a few times to work on commissioned pieces, but tomorrow’s coronation will be the first time the palace is officially open.”
“Tomorrow?” Lia squeaked.
Talon gave her a squeeze, and addressed Malachi. “So soon?”
“You didn’t know?” Lia asked.
Talon glanced down at her. “I’ve made ‘official’ plans through the Aegir’s communications system while Mal’s been working quietly to set up the real coronation.”
Teresa frowned at Talon and Mal. “That seems like quite a lot of unnecessary work.”
“It’s for Lia’s security,” Talon explained.
“I can’t imagine such deceit would be necessary. It might cause confusion with the Home Guard.”
“Someone’s tried to kill Lia twice already,” Ilexa interjected quietly.
Teresa gasped, clearly horrified. “I can’t believe it. She’s our salvation.”
“Believe it,” Talon snapped. He hadn’t missed the way his tense wife had begun t
o vibrate like a plucked harp string at the word “salvation”.
“You made all your plans easy to intercept,” Lia said quietly.
Talon knew the others in the car would hear deduction in her tone, but he caught the censure in her voice. He had known she wouldn’t be pleased to be excluded from the decision-making process, but he figured she had enough to contend with as they approached N’yota. The coronation plans would do nothing but increase her unhappiness. “That’s right. I made arrangements for us to stay in the palace tonight, but we’ll actually be staying…?”
Malachi smiled. “At the homestead.”
Talon grinned. “Perfect.”
“The homestead?” Lia asked.
“It’s my family’s land. The place I grew up,” Talon replied.
“You’ll love it,” Ilexa said with a smile. “I’ll show you where I built a castle to live away from the evils of brothers.”
“If I remember, I conquered that castle,” Malachi said with a laugh.
“And Mother boxed your ears for it,” Ilexa shot back.
—
Lia stared out the window of Talon’s childhood bedroom, but couldn’t focus her attention on the rolling green hills or multi-colored sunset. She heard the door behind her open and close. The heavy tread identified her husband moments before she inhaled his familiar scent and felt his arms wrap around her. She couldn’t stop her body from relaxing against him.
Talon practically vibrated with his joy at being home and being surrounded by his family. Perversely, his sense of happiness and well-being increased her fear.
Talon dropped his chin, resting it atop her head in a casual, affectionate gesture that broke the dam, freeing the question that had been tormenting her for weeks.
“What do I do now?” Lia asked. She’d intended her question to be matter-of-fact. To her unending embarrassment, her voice quivered.
“The coronation ceremony is scheduled for the morning.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “Then what?”
“Then you formally ascend the throne.”
“And then?”
“Then what?”
“Exactly!”
“Lia, you are making me dizzy.”
