Authors: Jess Granger
Beyond the Rain (11 page)
Cyani couldn’t think. Her mind was on fire. She looked down at him, cradling his head with her free arm. His silky hair slid over her forearm as she watched his face. With his eyes closed, he placed each kiss on her arm with the reverence of someone in the middle of a deep and holy rite.
She couldn’t stand it. She resisted the urge to pull the laces of her bodice and let him clean the mud from her shoulder, and her bare breast.
“Soren?” Kaln called from outside the door. “My father wishes to speak with you.”
They both froze, and Cyani felt the stab of disappointment deep in her gut as Soren cursed and dropped the cloth into the kiltii water.
“What’s going on?” she asked, not expecting an answer. She felt heavy, aching and bereft, while at the same time her mind felt like it had been yanked suddenly from a dream.
“I don’t know,” he answered, looking as disappointed and torn as she felt. “Stay here until I return.”
He stormed out of the door.
“Kaln,” he ordered. “Protect her.”
“I will,” the prince replied.
Cyani quickly wiped the mud off her legs. She wondered how much it had to disturb Soren to leave her with another man, but his trust in the prince comforted her. If Soren trusted him, she could trust him, too.
“Happening, what?” she asked him in her broken Makko.
Kaln continued to stare en of attacking them. My father is sorting it out.”
“What?” Cyani’s heart thundered in her ears. “They attacked me. They tried to influence my mind so they could seduce me,” she protested in Union.
“I can’t understand you, Cyani,” the prince said, “but I think I know what you are saying. They tried to influence you, didn’t they?” he asked.
“Yes!” she shouted in Makkolen.
The prince nodded. “My father will make things right, just stay here. Soren is barely controlling himself. Right now I’m helping him stay calm and in control so he can bear witness against the men who attacked you. If he saw you now, I would lose my hold on him, and that would be bad for you both.”
Cyani paced behind the door, then called for Vicca, but her fox was nowhere to be found. She was probably off hunting toads.
She found her flick knife, and with her agitation roiling, she tried to work through her nerves by practicing throwing it into one of the walls. It gave her plenty of time to think about what she had done, how far she had let things go. She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t be able to let him go to find his own love and be free.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity, Soren returned. He greeted Kaln, and the two men whispered something before he patted Kaln on the shoulder and the prince took his leave.
He entered the hut with a somber look on his face. “I will make you a bonding necklace and give it to you during the next Lankana,” he announced.
“What?” she gasped. “We can’t go through their mating ritual.”
“I promised the king.”
“How could you?” she demanded.
“Because by the law of these people, if another man tried to touch you in any way, I could defend you,” he answered.
“You mean you could kill them.”
Soren shrugged. “They all belie width="1em">
“Are you sure?” The knot of uncertainty tightened in her stomach.
“Are you sure?” The knot of uncertainty tightened in her stomach.
Vicca trotted in the door with a large locust in her mouth. Cyani scooped her up, and pet her ears as she moved to the hammock to try to hold back the crushing claustrophobia that had suddenly gripped her.
“I can’t do this, Soren. I can’t bond with you.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” he said. He touched the kiltii vine that now covered the walls of half the hut, had grown up into the grass thatching, and draped across the floor.
“That’s what you said. You said I would be bound to you. What do you think this ceremony is?” she demanded.
“It isn’t even marriage to the people here, Cyani. It is only a promise to remain together for a time and see what happens.” He plucked a few spent blossoms and rubbed their petals between his fingers to release their cleansing scent. “Isn’t that what we are doing now?”
“I don’t know what we are doing now, but I know what it means to bond to you and I can’t do it. I just can’t. I can’t bear that weight. We have to stop this, Soren. We are walking on the edge of a very thin blade.”
Soren crossed his arms and exhaled as he dropped his gaze to his bed.
“If you bond to me, then what?” Cyani asked. “Then if something happens to me, you die. I can’t live like that.”
“Like what? Like you have something to live for? You are so quick to throw yourself toward death.”
“I’m free to do what I need to do,” she protested.
“You’re not free.” His voice boomed in their small home.
“If I’m forced to bond to you, I won’t be.”
An uneasy silence fell between them as Soren’s eyes slowly turned black. What was she supposed to do? Finally she broke the silence because she couldn’t bear the weight of it. “I’ll be chained to you, and if we finally make it out of this lack-tech pit, then I’m the one who will bear the consequences. If you die, it will be my fault,” she stated, her voice sounding hard, even to her ears. “My fault,” she repeated in a softer tone.
Soren crossed the room and eased into the hammock next to her. She refused to look at him. He stroked Vicca’s ears as the fox snuggled between them.
“You should go through this ceremony with one of these women,” she mumbled. “They’re clearly interested in you. They can bond with you. You’ll be safe.”
“I don’t want them,” he said, leaning in to her shoulder. “Makkolen women would not be able to accept my need for them. If one wanted to leave the bond, I couldn’t let her go.”
“What about me?” she said as she squeezed to the edge of the hammock. “Could you let me go?”
He didn’t answer.
“So what do we do?” she asked.
“Dance for me, Cyani.” Soren touched her chin with his fingertip and gently lifted her face to his. “It is the only way to keep you safe. After that, I will go out onto the savannah with you, and we’ll try to make the beacon work.”
“But what about the bond?”
He leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on her forting. He paused. His voice sounded soft when he continued. “Whatever our future holds, you will have a choice. I will give you a choice.”
He promised her freedom, a choice. A small ugly voice whispered in the back of her mind:
What price would they have to pay?
What price would they have to pay?
13
THE DRUMS, THEY CALLED TO HER. SHE COULD FEEL THEIR PULSE DANCING with the beat of her heart. She could hear their rhythmic seduction. The Lankana was upon her.
The last few days had passed by too quickly. Soren hadn’t left her side the entire time. He tried to make his presence seem less imposing, but while it comforted her to have him so near, it only reinforced her gut feeling. She was trapped.
She had to do what she had to do. She’d go out and dance, then take the necklace and retreat back to the hut and go to sleep like any other night. She had to get it over with as fast as possible.
Apparently, tradition dictated that she wear her hair up off her neck, twisted and pinned by two sticks with dangling beads attached. She didn’t have a problem with that. She had a problem with the rest of the traditional garb. Her woven bodice had been bad enough. The bloodred leather one she now donned practically became her skin as it dipped so low she worried about falling out of it. And she had no chance of covering her belly with the low-slung fiery skirt. She’d be lucky if it stayed on her hips at all, and without a head scarf to tie up between her legs, she had a sinking feeling she’d end up flashing her most intimate places to the entire tribe. She felt the flush of embarrassment color her cheeks.
But the drums, she couldn’t get the pulsing beat out of her mind. It enthralled her as she stared at the glittering blanket of stars above.
This night wasn’t like any other night. She had to be strong, or she would succumb to it.
From the dark shadows of the women’s house, she could smell the rich, spicy smoke of the great bonfires raging in the open area between the two halls. Focus, she needed to focus on the things she could control.
Tonight she’d be free.
Tonight I will be bound.
“Nervous?” Lai asked, placing her palm on Cyani’s shoulder.
Cyani turned to look at the queen. “No.”
“Your hands are shaking.”
Cyani crossed her arms over the tight leather that bound her breasts, and tucked her fingers into the crooks of each elbow to still them.
“You have no reason to be anxious, Cyani. You dance beautifully.” The queen turned to walk away as Cyani looked back out at the clearing. The shadows of men and women formed a circle around the altar. It had been dressed with fur and cloth.
Fire burned from the tops of phallic poles circling the shrine, while long flags of shimmering red cloth undulated in the hot breeze.
“Lai?” Cyani called. The queen looked back over her shoulder. “What is that for?” she asked, pointing at the altar.
One of the queen’s elegant brows lowered in a puzzled expression.
“It would be best for you to put it out of your mind. Try to enjoy this night.” The queen smiled a motherly smile and continued to the o He wore a bemused expression as he took a long drink from a deep bowl and stared at her without a word. A very intricate web of dark beads hung around his neck, tapering down to a single bead, carved to look like the flowers on her tattoo. It was beautiful.
Suddenly Cyani felt very conscious of the night air touching her exposed skin. A chill slithered down her back as she brought her hand over her navel and began to dance.
Foot down, clap, turn, hands up, meticulously she performed the motions Lai had taught her. She just needed to make it through the ceremony and all of this would be over. She could go to sleep, and in the morning, she’d redouble her efforts to contact the Union. Soren had promised.
I’ll sleep in his arms, under his thrall, dreaming of his skin touching mine, his kiss lingering on the tender place beneath my ear.
Cyani shook her head and realized she had stopped moving. With a quick rush of motion, she finished the last steps of the dance and stood before Soren.
With her heart pounding, she waited.
He didn’t move.
“Soren?” She took a step toward him, but he just cocked his head to the side and smiled at her. “Aren’t you supposed to give me the necklace now?” she asked. Had she forgotten part of the ritual?
“I’ll give you the necklace when I see you dance.”
“You son of an ill-bred mud worm,” she hissed at him.
He laughed and crossed his arms.
“Dance for me, Cyani,” he challenged.
She burned. She could feel the rushing heat of her anger and her humiliation rising in her blood, even as the touch of the bonfire behind her seeped into her skin. He wanted her to dance?
She’d dance.
She stomped her foot into the sand and slowly lowered her center as her arms snaked out to her sides. It was the beginning of the Ahora malka
,
the seduction of the tiger.
,
the seduction of the tiger.
She would make him writhe.
Her body entered into the training ritual with a will of its own, the motions meant to teach smooth death strikes with wrist blades. She turned it into something different, something alive, something as beautiful and treacherous as the tiger itself.
She spun and let her muscles flow, her body open. She could feel the night air kiss the inside of her thighs, cool her heated core.
She became the beast, the Xalen tiger he often reminded her of. No, she was the tigress, his mate.
She could feel the electric tingle in her skin as she swayed toward him. She remembered how shocking his touch had been when he first reached out to her. Now she needed it. Was she addicted to him?
Did it matter anymore?
She remembered the first time he had kissed her. She had been helpless, terrified as he healed her paralyzed body with his potent embrace.
Her body spun and leapt. It knew the motions; they had become instinct. What other instincts had she denied herself for so long? Her body radiated with a new sense of power, a feminine awareness of her ability to enthrall, to create new life and beauty.
He had washed it away as completely as the drenching rain could, and she had kissed him for it. Now she felt the call, the seduction of her deepest, most secret strength. The strength of her love, the strength of her freedom.
She locked her gaze on his as she stalked toward him with fluid grace. His dark eyes blazed with the violet passion he tried to leash for her.
Other books
S&M III, Vol. II by Vera Roberts
Defiled Forever by Rivera, AM
The Virtuous Widow by Anne Gracie
The Saint Sees It Through by Leslie Charteris
A Living Dead Love Story Series by Rusty Fischer
The Extra by Kenneth Rosenberg
The Dolphin in the Mirror by Diana Reiss
Pirate's Price by Aubrey Ross
Sea Hearts by Margo Lanagan
Emily and the Stranger by Beverly Barton