even when she wounded
his heart.
“Oh, Dharman,” she whispered in a
shaking fragile voice that made him want to unsheathe his rahke and
plunge it into his heart.
He fought to keep the bitterness and
agony hidden from his face and voice. That his bond raged with such emotion and
she remained oblivious confirmed that she only rarely listened to his bond. He
touched hers constantly, her barest thought or feeling ringing like a bell in
his mind. “I may be your First Blood, but I always knew you had a First and
Second between us and your heart.”
After one last kiss, Khul lowered her
back to the ground. An entire herd of outlanders had gathered to gawk at the
barbarians. Dharman knew the weight such constant attention put on her mind and
heart. That she loved Khul enough to put on such a display didn’t surprise him.
What rocked the earth beneath Dharman’s
feet was her hand sliding into his hair. A tug brought his mouth down to hers.
She whispered against his mouth, “I’m sorry.”
Surely a hundred years had passed since
she’d last kissed him. Preparing to challenge Theo for the High Throne and afraid
all she loved would die, she’d let him kiss her before Khul and the waiting
outlanders. Then it had been brief and hard, full of desperation and fear. This
kiss was a slow exploration, a promise of so much more. Dharman tasted her
mouth, the softness of her lips, the rich darkness of her tongue sliding into
his mouth, and his hurt melted away.
When she pulled away, he reminded her
solemnly, “You promised something else that day.”
Vulkar, he loved the way her cheeks
colored. She stole a quick look at Khul still waiting on his na’kindre , not a hint of anger on his
face that she’d kissed another warrior in front of him. “I never—”
“Aye, she did,” Khul interrupted. “It’s
past time for her to repay that promise. The first night she’s back in my
blankets in my tent in my Camp with me, you will receive what she promised.”
She held herself very still, frozen like
a rabbit sighted by a starving wolf. Dharman waited for her to refuse. If she
did, neither he nor Khul would force the promise upon her. He would wait an
eternity, if only she asked him with true love and desire when she was ready.
Finally, she nodded, just one quick jerk of her head, but he wanted to wrap her
up in his arms and run for his na’kindre to get her back to the Plains all the quicker.
“Sal.” When her Second Blood didn’t
respond, she slid out of Dharman’s embrace and moved to stand before him. For
once, Sal had managed to keep his mouth shut instead of making a blatant joke,
which should tell her exactly how badly they both had been hurt. Any other day,
Sal would have been throwing himself at her feet to win a kiss.
She stood before him, trying to decide
how best to reward—and torment him at the same time. Lightly, she reached out
and touched the pale scar on his lower abdomen.
Sal sucked in his breath.
“Do you remember how you earned this
scar?”
He nodded, his eyes widening. He glanced
at Dharman, seeking his reaction or permission, he wasn’t sure, but he was
simply grateful his friend didn’t look to Khul. At last, someone looked to him
as First. Dharman gave a small nod and came up behind her, lightly settling his
hands on her hips.
She wrapped her left hand in the red
hair tumbled past Sal’s shoulders. Slowly and deliberately, she twisted his
hair about her fists, pulling him down to her. It wasn’t in Sal’s nature to go
gently; he enjoyed the pain, the steady pull, and the hint of force she used to
make him come to her.
This she understood about Sal and was
willing to give him. Dharman couldn’t be jealous of his bonded Blood brother,
but he couldn’t help but wish she would take as much care with his own needs.
She moved too quickly for his eyes to
track, but he felt her intent through the bond. The tip of her rahke dug into the tender flesh of Sal’s
stomach. “Perhaps you’d
his heart.
“Oh, Dharman,” she whispered in a
shaking fragile voice that made him want to unsheathe his rahke and
plunge it into his heart.
He fought to keep the bitterness and
agony hidden from his face and voice. That his bond raged with such emotion and
she remained oblivious confirmed that she only rarely listened to his bond. He
touched hers constantly, her barest thought or feeling ringing like a bell in
his mind. “I may be your First Blood, but I always knew you had a First and
Second between us and your heart.”
After one last kiss, Khul lowered her
back to the ground. An entire herd of outlanders had gathered to gawk at the
barbarians. Dharman knew the weight such constant attention put on her mind and
heart. That she loved Khul enough to put on such a display didn’t surprise him.
What rocked the earth beneath Dharman’s
feet was her hand sliding into his hair. A tug brought his mouth down to hers.
She whispered against his mouth, “I’m sorry.”
Surely a hundred years had passed since
she’d last kissed him. Preparing to challenge Theo for the High Throne and afraid
all she loved would die, she’d let him kiss her before Khul and the waiting
outlanders. Then it had been brief and hard, full of desperation and fear. This
kiss was a slow exploration, a promise of so much more. Dharman tasted her
mouth, the softness of her lips, the rich darkness of her tongue sliding into
his mouth, and his hurt melted away.
When she pulled away, he reminded her
solemnly, “You promised something else that day.”
Vulkar, he loved the way her cheeks
colored. She stole a quick look at Khul still waiting on his na’kindre , not a hint of anger on his
face that she’d kissed another warrior in front of him. “I never—”
“Aye, she did,” Khul interrupted. “It’s
past time for her to repay that promise. The first night she’s back in my
blankets in my tent in my Camp with me, you will receive what she promised.”
She held herself very still, frozen like
a rabbit sighted by a starving wolf. Dharman waited for her to refuse. If she
did, neither he nor Khul would force the promise upon her. He would wait an
eternity, if only she asked him with true love and desire when she was ready.
Finally, she nodded, just one quick jerk of her head, but he wanted to wrap her
up in his arms and run for his na’kindre to get her back to the Plains all the quicker.
“Sal.” When her Second Blood didn’t
respond, she slid out of Dharman’s embrace and moved to stand before him. For
once, Sal had managed to keep his mouth shut instead of making a blatant joke,
which should tell her exactly how badly they both had been hurt. Any other day,
Sal would have been throwing himself at her feet to win a kiss.
She stood before him, trying to decide
how best to reward—and torment him at the same time. Lightly, she reached out
and touched the pale scar on his lower abdomen.
Sal sucked in his breath.
“Do you remember how you earned this
scar?”
He nodded, his eyes widening. He glanced
at Dharman, seeking his reaction or permission, he wasn’t sure, but he was
simply grateful his friend didn’t look to Khul. At last, someone looked to him
as First. Dharman gave a small nod and came up behind her, lightly settling his
hands on her hips.
She wrapped her left hand in the red
hair tumbled past Sal’s shoulders. Slowly and deliberately, she twisted his
hair about her fists, pulling him down to her. It wasn’t in Sal’s nature to go
gently; he enjoyed the pain, the steady pull, and the hint of force she used to
make him come to her.
This she understood about Sal and was
willing to give him. Dharman couldn’t be jealous of his bonded Blood brother,
but he couldn’t help but wish she would take as much care with his own needs.
She moved too quickly for his eyes to
track, but he felt her intent through the bond. The tip of her rahke dug into the tender flesh of Sal’s
stomach. “Perhaps you’d
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