Just as he was about to take her, he heard her whisper, “No, Khon‘Tor. No. Stop. I’ve changed my mind. I do not give my consent.”
Khon’Tor froze. His blood ran cold.
It took every bit of will to stop his forward motion. He held himself completely still. Surely he could not have heard her correctly. How could this be? There is no way I misinterpreted her actions—she wanted me; everything she did signaled her consent. She came to me! How can she now be saying no?
Khon’Tor quickly pulled himself away from her, putting enough distance between them to ensure there was no way his body could overrule his will and complete the act.
The female had said no. If he continued, he would be breaking the Sacred Law of the People: Never Without Consent. His mind and his pulse now racing equally, he pushed himself up on one arm to face her directly.
“What did you say?” he demanded, but he knew full well what she had said. He knew he had not misunderstood her, but he needed to hear it from her clearly, in full voice, not delivered as a whisper in the dark between past lovers.
“I said no, Khon’Tor. I have changed my mind. I withdraw my consent. I do not wish to mate with you,” she stated.
Khon’Tor was a hair’s breadth away from breaking point. He looked at her squarely. He could see clearly that she was smiling smugly at him, a look of twisted satisfaction on her face.
It now dawned on him. Hakani had never intended to mate with him. She had meant to lead him on to believe she would, only to stop him, to deliver her denial at the final, most vulnerable of moments.
She had almost won, had he not been able to stop himself, he would have broken First Law. He would be utterly dishonored, even more so for the position of authority he held.
So this had been her cruel game. Had she waited a moment longer, in another movement, I would have completed the act. But Hakani spoke too soon. I did not mate her after she withdrew her consent.
Khon‘Tor, as angry as he was, breathed a huge sigh of relief. He had almost made the biggest mistake of his life, orchestrated by this female lying next to him. But it had not worked, and she had not won. He had prevailed despite all her clever tricks and scheming.
There were no words to express his hatred of her now. He was furious at her charade, at being set up by her, at the pleasure he knew she took both in planning and in executing her clever act. He was angry with himself for dropping his guard and believing anything with her was as it appeared. He had been played for a fool; he should know better by now. Hakani was consumed by her intention to destroy him. She hated him and would hate him until she took her last breath. Maybe even beyond. But this last plan of hers settled it in his mind. There would never be peace between them. It is just a matter of time before she tries something else.
After the stunt she pulled with the Waschini offspring, he had stripped his need for her down to one thing—her ability to provide him with a male offspring. This last trick fully demonstrated that she would never willingly fulfill that role for him. She has no further purpose in my life. Continuing to share quarters with her will only give her the opportunity of more attempts to destroy me. Eventually, she will find a way to succeed.
Khon’Tor sighed. It is time to approach the High Council and request Bak’tah-Awhidi. But I will set her up in her own quarters—and continue to provide for her maintenance and basic needs—with or without the High Council’s consent. Otherwise, I am done with her.
He rose from the bed and turned to look down at his mate, making it a point to tower intimidatingly over her. “Your trick did not work Hakani; I honored your refusal, and I have committed no crime,” he stated. Though his voice was controlled, it still betrayed the anger of which he was barely in control.
Hakani did not say a word, just smiled smugly at him.
“Are you so sure, Khon’Tor?” she asked, mocking him.
“I am very sure,” he replied. “You should have waited longer. You could have dragged this on for years yet, but now you have tipped your hand. You have made my path very clear. You will never give me offspring, and that was the last use I had for you,” he continued. “I told you I would have no qualms going to the High Council, setting you aside as First Choice and taking a second mate,” he said harshly. “They will grant Bak’tah-Awhidi on the basis that you are barren, considering that you have not so far produced an heir.”
“Oh, and how will you win your case when I am standing next to you, clearly carrying your offspring?”
Khon’Tor knew she was bluffing. He had stopped himself. There was no way she could be with offspring. It had been ages.
“Well,” she added, “At least they will assume this is your offspring. And only you and I will know it is not.”
Khon’Tor’s eyes darkened with rage, his muscles tensed, adrenaline flooded his brain. His hatred reached boiling point and flashed over. She betrayed me by lying with another male—and now I will have to accept another man’s offspring as my own?
He no longer cared about consequences; at that moment he only wanted to crush her neck with his bare hands, eviscerate her head to toe with his teeth, and watch her lifeblood leak out across the floor—taking to krell with her whatever bastard offspring she carried.
There was little doubt that had someone not pounded furiously on the door of their quarters, in another few seconds Hakani would have lain dying, drowning in a pool of her own blood.
No one ever pounded on the door of the Leader’s private quarters. Such an unprecedented action could only be warranted by an emergency of epic proportions.
The shock of such a breach in protocol startled Khon’Tor just long enough for a crack of control to reestablish itself in his brain. Tearing his attention away from Hakani, who still lay on his bed, braced for his assault on her, he launched himself at the stone slab door and flung it open.
For the second time that day, Akule had violated the privacy of Khon’Tor’s living quarters.
The watcher stood there petrified, eyes open as far as they would go, staring up at the angriest male he had ever seen in his life. Akule at first mistook Khon’Tor’s intense rage as directed at him for his intrusion into the Leader’s private quarters. But then his eyes glanced past Khon’Tor and noticed Hakani lying on the bed. Seeing her there, coupled with Khon’Tor’s highly impassioned state, he misinterpreted for a second time the reason for Khon’Tor’s rage.
“My deepest apologies, Adoeete,” he stammered, stepping back into the hallway in an attempt to put some distance between himself and this hulking, enraged man.
Khon‘Tor followed him into the hallway, quickly pulling the stone door back in place behind him, cutting off Akule’s view of Hakani.
“Adoeete, I have delivered the message about the Waschini riding party to the Brothers—”
“That is what you came here to tell me?” Khon’Tor practically roared the question at Akule. Then he braced his arm against the wall and leaned his head against it.
“No, Adoeete. But I thought you might want to know. What I really came here to tell you is that I just saw the Healer leaving Kthama.”
Khon’Tor heard the words Akule was speaking but could not quite believe them. Against his strictest orders, Adia had left Kthama.
He was still fighting for control; still desperately wanting to return inside and crush the life out of Hakani. But some presence of mind was creeping back. He found out from Akule where he had seen Adia and the direction in which she was headed. Then he commanded the watcher to tell no one of this.
“No one else must know this, not even Acaraho,” Khon’Tor said. “Go and relieve the guard at the front entrance and send him to his quarters,” he added.
Whatever he was going to do about Adia, he knew he must be able to do it without any further complications. So he set off alone to find her and bring her back.
Akule walked away, feeling lucky to be alive and thinking how wrong the rumors were regarding the state of the Leader’s relationship with his mate Hakani
. From what he had seen of Khon’Tor’s impassioned state just then, the Leader and his mate were anything but estranged!
Akule was three for three in his misinterpretations of what had been going on in the Leader’s private quarters that evening.
Adia picked her way carefully along the treacherous, snow-covered path. The cold weather and her weakened condition slowed her travel considerably. The snow that had begun falling earlier in the day had left a slippery coating everywhere.
Once at the Healer’s cove, she hurried to where she had buried the little bag. She pawed through the soil and pulled it out. Though no one else but Nadiwani ever came to this place, Adia carefully patted the soil back, so it did not appear disturbed. Clutching the pouch, she left the Healer’s Cove and set off on her way back to Kthama, remembering she needed to return through the tunnel exiting from the females’ bathing pool.
Luckily, considering her weakening state, she only had to retrace the tracks she had left in the snow on her way there.
The same tracks Khon’Tor had no trouble following either—tracks that led him directly to her.
Khon’Tor planted himself a few feet ahead of her, snow falling gently around him, waiting for her to look up and see him. He stood with feet apart, arms crossed in front of his chest; an angry, immovable object completely blocking her way.
Walking with her head down to make sure she did not lose her footing on the slippery path, Adia ran smack into Khon’Tor, almost knocking herself off balance. Her head shot up, and she looked directly into the hard, bitter eyes of the towering Khon’Tor.
She tried to back away, but he quickly grabbed her wrists in an iron grip and jerked her to him, effectively holding her captive. Her eyes widened. Noticing she was holding something, he transferred her wrists to one hand, and forcing her palm open with the other, he exposed the pouch that contained the locket.
“What is this?” he demanded, jerking it out of her hand.
He continued to hold her wrists tightly together as he angrily ripped the leather pouch open with his teeth, a shiny object falling to the ground. He bent over to pick up what was left of the pouch and tossed it angrily as hard as he could out into the treetops below the path. Still holding Adia, he retrieved the locket, lifting it to his eyes. It twisted on the end of its chain. He could not tell what it was made of, but he knew it was Waschini. There was a likeness of a male and female drawn or carved into it. He could not tell the method, but he knew what he was looking at.
The Healer was headed back to Kthama, so he knew she must previously have left it somewhere and was returning after retrieving it. This must have something to do with the Waschini offspring, but he could not figure out why she would come out in this weather, directly defying him, to get it.
Adia struggled against Khon’Tor but could not free herself from his iron clasp. He knew he was hurting her, but he did not care.
“Why would you do this? As if it was not bad enough bringing that creature here. You also had to bring this back with it?” With the locket clutched in his fist, he shook it in front of her face.
“You are out of your mind! Whatever this is, it is a tie to his family. This can identify him,” Khon’Tor continued.
He angrily released her wrists, giving her a backward thrust as he did, causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground. He turned his back on her, fists now clutched against tightly closed eyes.
Everyone, even the most powerful and disciplined, even one possessing the strongest will, has a limit. The Alpha of the People of the High Rocks was no exception. And he had already been brought to the edge once earlier at the hands of Hakani. Had Akule not showed up when he did, in another second Khon’Tor would have collected the ultimate price from his mate for her betrayal.
Khon’Tor’s emotions filled with every affront, insult, and challenge he had experienced at the hands of these two females.
The pain of his original desire for Adia, believing she would be his only to have her snatched away from him at the last minute—chosen to become the People’s Healer, forever out of reach. Then having to pick another in her stead, hiding his disappointment and despair—a decision forced in haste and one that had paired him with a bitter, resentful female who hated him for reasons he could not understand.
His mind went back to when she had brought the offspring into their community, insolently breaking the laws and getting away with it—still managing to win the People’s favor. Succeeding despite every hardship he put on her.
Hakani, creating a dramatic scene with the Waschini offspring in front of the entire community with no regard for the position into which it put him. His mate’s denial of him year after year, and then finally tonight, knowing how exhausted he was and how much strain he was under, offering him release and leading him on only to refuse him at the last second. The assaults on his pride, his position, and his authority kept coming. Hakani betraying him by lying with another, and now taunting him with this other man’s offspring—an offspring she would claim as his, and who would be heir to his leadership.
Years of battling these females, thinking he had first one then the other under control, only to have them defy him again and again.
The rage that had fueled his desire to kill Hakani, and which Akule had thwarted by pounding on the door of his quarters, had resurfaced with a vengeance. Rage that had never found its outlet; never found its release.
And now this. Disobeying a direct order given publicly in front of the full community. His order! Again, defying him directly!
All the frustration, challenge, and betrayal—regardless of at which female’s hand—churned together into one seething mass and Khon’Tor was losing the ability to tell them apart. The two females who were the source of all his troubles and hardships, his anger, and his longing were becoming confused in his mind. The betrayal of him by one had become that of the other; swirling together, intermixing until he could no longer separate his anger with one from his anger with the other.
Khon’Tor turned back expecting to find Adia crumpled on the ground in the accumulating snow. Just as he turned, Adia had managed to raise herself up, and in trying to gain her balance, placed her hand directly on the center of his chest to steady herself. His last thread of control snapped at the contact of Adia’s warm hand; his mind, relinquished its hold on reality, ceded to his overwhelming urges.
Her hand on his chest became Hakani’s hand on his chest earlier—stirring him, inviting him, deceiving him into believing she wanted him, only to reject and humiliate him in the next moment.
Adia became Hakani and Hakani became Adia. Adia was teasing him, leading him on as Hakani had done.
Khon’Tor’s anger exploded; he pushed Adia away roughly, bellowing, “No!” And he pulled his arm back and hit her across the side of her face, knocking her the rest of the way to the ground. Had she not already been falling as his hand made contact, no doubt his blow would have killed her right there.
Adia hit the ground hard.
She raised herself on one elbow and looked up at him through glazed eyes, blood streaming profusely from the side of her head and dripping onto the rocks beside her.
“Khon’Tor—” Her voice was barely audible.
Khon’Tor looked down at her, sprawled on the ground in front of him. Hurt, weak, defenseless; he should have felt sorry for her, but he felt nothing of the kind. The blood lust he felt for Hakani was surging again through every part of him. He had been pushed past the point of no return—past his breaking point.
Khon’Tor’s mind finally snapped. While he had wanted to kill Hakani, tear her apart, slice her open top to bottom, her blood flowing everywhere, Khon’Tor did not want to kill Adia. His murderous rage had turned into something entirely different that he wanted to do to her.
The object of his desire, the female he could never have, his First Choice, lay helpless in front of him. And there was nothing and no one, not even himself, to stop him from taking what he wanted—what should have been his
long ago.
Khon’Tor took domination of Adia, claiming by force the maiden after whom he had lusted for years. He turned his will to the satisfaction of his animal desires.
Adia had known she must get back to the safety of Kthama. Khon-Tor will be so angry if he finds out I left against his orders.
Then, just as she had been thinking about him, he was standing over her. What is happening?
Adia was already confused from the sickness that was taking hold, but the blow to her head put her into a dazed state of half twilight. As she was losing consciousness, she felt a tremendous weight move over her, so warm in the winter night, comforting at first, but then almost crushing her. And after that, pressure, unbelievable pressure, followed by a blindingly sharp pain she could never have imagined; pain that pierced her straight up through her center. And then more pressure, splitting her in two. And again, hard, painful thrusts rocking her body against the cold, harsh ground.
Adia finally slipped into total darkness, just as Khon’Tor’s massive body tightened, stiffened against her and then froze—suspended in a moment of complete, unequaled release as he spent all his anger and rage deep inside her—Without Her Consent.
Chapter 13
Is’Taqa was approaching Kthama with the wrappings for Oh’Dar when he noticed Khon’Tor walking away from Kthama. Puzzled by where the great Leader of the People would be going at this time, and wishing to greet him, Is’Taqa followed him down a long, seldom-used path.
Not being able to keep up with the bigger male, just as he was about to call out to Khon’Tor, he saw the Leader stop as another, smaller figure came up from the other direction and ran smack into him.
What Is’ Taqa thought was almost comical quickly took a dark turn. He stood there horrified as he watched Khon’Tor overpower the smaller figure and roughly throw him to the hard ground. When the smaller male struggled back to his feet, Khon’Tor knocked him back to the ground again with one swift blow to the head.
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