Honored Vow (37 page)

“Oh fuck!” he roared, bucking under me, driving my cock in deeper, my balls plastered to his ass.

I had to move; I would die if I didn’t. And I would die if I hurt my mate.

“Oh God, Jin, please.”

Lifting my mouth, I sucked at the wound I had made, which brought on the sweetest whine I had ever heard, before I grabbed hold of his hips and eased out of his clasping channel.

“No, don’t––”

I plunged back inside of him, thrusting hard and deep, and his head fell back as he begged me to do it again.

The pounding I delivered was merciless, and from the grunts and whimpers and moans, I knew that this, me claiming him, was exactly what he needed.

“Mine,” I growled before I demanded he jerk himself off.

He took a quivering breath before he came, splattering the blanket under him, convulsing with his orgasm.

I shot hot cum deep inside his body, filling him until it dripped down the inside of his thighs, hammering him through his release and mine as he normally did to me. Nothing was so primal as coating my mate’s inner walls, branding him inside and out, and I felt the emotion rise up in me. The feeling had to be the same when the roles were reversed, Logan must have enjoyed possessing me just as much.

When I collapsed on top of him, because he was bigger and stronger, he didn’t fold under me; instead, he held there until I eased from his body and sat back.

He dropped down onto the blankets and rolled over on his back. The hooded eyes, flushed face, and sweat-covered skin were enough to make my mouth go dry. The man was a vision of sated passion.

“Did I hurt you?”

He shook his head.

“I claimed you, you’re mine, and you belong only to me.”

“Only to you,” he said hoarsely, reaching for me, catching my hair, and pulling me close enough so he could fist his hand in it. I was wrenched forward, and when our lips met, the kiss was scorching and devouring as the man mauled my mouth.

He had submitted to me, trusted me, loved me enough to give himself to me, but there was also never to be a doubt of who was in control. Logan was power and strength and heat; I was his mate, his other half, and so returned softness and soothing calm. He took what he wanted, and I willingly gave, and that truth lived and breathed between us. I would treasure the moment for what it was, a gift, a time when Logan had wanted me to take and I had. We fit seamlessly, and as I was rolled to my back, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held tight.

“I love you,” he rasped against my lips before the second round began, the blistering kiss, the grinding motion that made my skin so hot I thought it would simply brand him when we touched. “My mate, my reah.”

I wanted to melt into him, so I tried.

W
E
HAD
remained alone for as long as we could, Mikhail finally coming to find Logan to have him return to the hall to attend the priest before the funeral rites were performed. I told Logan that I couldn’t go back inside, and he understood, making me promise to stay there and not leave our quarters. I told him that I needed to go for a run, and even though he wasn’t thrilled with the prospect, he understood the need.

Later that night, I had shifted and was watching from a safe distance as they all stood in a circle under the falling snow and watched as the pyres burned. Panthers were never buried, always cremated for safety and secrecy, but the pyres were an ancient practice that somehow, with all that had transpired, made sense.

All the fallen were placed side by side: the yareahs, the semel of the tribe of Nebthet, his yareah, and his two men. Ammon El Masry was burned apart from the others, and only Amirah’s body was not present at all, having been burned and the ashes discarded two days prior. It turned out she had no family, so there was no one anywhere to mourn her. That was, for me, the saddest part of her story.

Once the fire engulfed everything, I watched everyone retreat back inside except for my mate. From where I was, in a shallow cave barely big enough to shelter me, I could see him and the whole valley. It was quiet outside, and peaceful, but what was happening outside had nothing to do with the whirling emotions that were going on inside my head. I wanted to go home and be grounded. I was suddenly so thankful to Logan for making that possible. He’d known that he could kill Ammon in the pit, but more importantly, he also knew that Domin could. I suddenly wanted to know the entire story.

I couldn’t hear him from where I was, but I could see him. And when he lifted his arms for me, I was on my feet in seconds.

He had not seen me run up the side of the mountain days ago, so I made sure to show him. I pushed myself faster, leaped high, and performed the mid-air arc, the dive that turned to running across the new-fallen snow. When I reached him, still in panther form, and landed all over him, pinning him under me to the snow, he was laughing.

“Holy shit,” he yelled, petting me hard, rubbing, the rumbling sound that came out of him making me purr as I licked the base of this throat. “How the hell did you do that?”

I was never sure; I just thought things and my body responded.

“Damn,” he sighed, scratching under my chin. “What can’t you do?”

But I knew, and so did he: I could not live without him.

“Don’t worry, okay? That’ll never happen, not with you looking out for me.”

I shuddered hard and would have shifted, but his gloved hands were suddenly clutching at my fur. “Don’t shift out here; you’ll freeze. Be a good kitty and follow me home, alright?”

Whatever he wanted.

T
HE
gathering was informal, but the priest was present, so it was still governed by the laws of hospitality. The semel of Khertet had invited everyone who participated in the sepat into his private quarters, and they were much different from the rest of the cave.

It was like being inside an enormous tent with partitions behind silk curtains, thick wool rugs that covered the stone floor, another enormous fireplace that warmed the room, lanterns that burned perfumed oil, and soft down pillows to lie on. A feast was laid out on each table, wine was poured, and in the warmth and ease of the evening, inhibitions were shed.

I had asked Yusuke if she wanted to attend or remain in our quarters, and she was so thankful for the choice that she grabbed my hand tight. She had no desire to ever lay eyes on Narae Hiroshi again, and if I were given the choice, she never would. Crane asked to stay with her, and even though she bowed low and said that he should not remain at her side, her face, when she rose, told a whole other story.

She looked at him and lit up. Her face, her gaze, her smile, the flush on her skin, the way her breath caught, all of it was mesmerizing. His eyes crinkled in half when he looked back at her, and I liked it.

“Don’t be grateful to him,” I had told her earlier that night, when I had followed Logan in from the cold.

“I’m grateful to you and my semel,” she said and added that she had already replaced her mate with Logan, which made me warm inside. “I’m not grateful to Crane Adams, he didn’t save me.”

And I was glad. I didn’t want her grateful to him; I wanted her to love him, if that was what her heart could still fathom. He deserved to be loved, and so did she.

A snicker from beside me drew me from my thoughts back to the present. I turned to look at Mikhail, whose attention was diverted. Following his gaze, I found Domin sitting beside a reclining Yuri. Domin was chatting with the priest while his hip and thigh pressed into my sheseru’s side. Sitting on Yuri’s right was Chuluun, and both his posture and hooded eyes suggested that he was offering more than the wine that he was pouring.

It was a mistake. I watched Domin do a slow pan to the maahes of the tribe of Khertet, lean sideways over Yuri, and say something that drained all the color from Chuluun’s face.

“I think,” I said with a chuckle, turning to Mikhail, “that maybe Domin’s done with sharing and waiting to claim what he wants.”

Mikhail nodded, his smile the rare one that curled the corner of his lip and made his eyes glitter deep midnight blue. “And Yuri’s thrilled.”

I had to agree. The way Yuri was built, wanting equaled ownership, and he wanted more than anything for Domin to claim him, put his mark on him, as he had, and for Domin to just announce to everyone that Yuri was his. The show of possessiveness made my sheseru unbearably happy. But still, because he was kind, he caught Chuluun’s wrist before he could leave, pulled him down so he could whisper in his ear, and when the other man rose, he didn’t look startled anymore but resigned. When Yuri sat up and leaned against Domin’s back, I saw the other man smile even as he continued talking.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?” Mikhail turned to me.

“Domin’s going to Sobek, Yuri’s staying with us. How the hell is this supposed to work?”

“Everyone’s alive and safe, Jin,” he sighed, reaching up to gently pat my cheek. “Let’s just sit here and be thankful, alright?”

I couldn’t argue.

It was interesting to see people approach Domin, the new title changing everything. Everyone was reverent. Even Jamal and Shahid, when they came in, both came forward and bowed to him. When Shahid, who was more than an acquaintance of my former maahes, leaned forward to speak to him, I watched Domin tilt his head away, making certain, simply from his body language, that Shahid being that close to him was not welcome. Things had changed, and whatever everyone thought they knew of Domin Thorne was no longer correct. In the morning, the priest had said, Domin would need to name his maahes, his sheseru, and his sylvan. He would not go back to Nevada with us; his duty was to the tribe of Rahotep. They needed to meet their new leader, and the semel-aten needed to put his house in order.

“You do understand,” Mikhail said softly, “that this will change your life, Jin, no matter what.”

And I wasn’t sure what he meant until Logan put his hand on my thigh. I turned to look at my mate.

“Baby, you do realize that Domin has to have people he trusts around him.”

I was still lost.

“And where do you think those people will come from?”

It hit me like a sledgehammer in the gut. “Oh shit.”

Logan threw an arm around me and hugged me to his side.

“Who will he take to Egypt with him?”

“We’ll just have to wait and find out.”

I was afraid to know.

Ebere presented herself to Domin, bowing low before he bid her rise and took her hand as was the custom, to show that she was claimed by him and under his protection. The priest pronounced her, again, mastaba, mistress of Sobek, as Domin had claimed her. She was considered the widow of the semel, but in giving her the title, he had declared her his until she chose to marry again or died. She could not be made to take another mate, as she, as well as any children that were hers, had been claimed by the semel-aten. Domin had granted her and her daughters safety.

It was not as though Ebere even lived in Sobek anymore, but wherever she was in the world, she was mastaba and so was safe. The reach of the semel-aten knew no bounds. She came to sit with Logan and me afterward and thanked us both again.

“I’m sorry for the loss of your mate,” Logan told her. “Please make sure your daughters understand.”

“This was tribal law, semel-netjer,” she told him. “And we all live with the duality of our lives. We’re human and not, and so my daughters will grieve the loss of their father, but they will understand the law. Every semel can be challenged, every mate put to death or marked, every man, woman, and child brought before their semel and judged.” She took a breath. “We all live by the same rules, and perhaps some of them, now that Domin Thorne is semel-aten, can be changed, but to say that my daughters would somehow not understand tribal law is impossible.”

“It’s all well and good to know why something happened; it’s something else to be okay with it. They can still hate Domin for being the instrument of their father’s death.”

“Or perhaps love him for releasing their mother from a nightmare,” she said, smiling through her tears.

I had no idea what kind of horrors Ammon El Masry had visited on his mate, but from seeing the face of his widow, I no longer feared that she or her daughters would ever hurt Domin.

When she left, I hugged her, and she made me promise to visit her if I was ever in Cairo. It was a vow I made wholeheartedly.

After another hour, Domin rose, lifted a hand to Logan and me, and then pulled Yuri to his feet. They both bowed to the priest—it was the etiquette—and were gone seconds later. Yuri knew better than to ask Logan to leave; that was not how my semel ran his tribe, with bowing and scraping and rigid observance of tradition. And I was so glad; the rigid rules were one of the things that Domin had already promised he would change. I had seen the look of concern on the priest’s face when Domin had been talking to him at dinner about the list of laws he would be tackling first. His plan was to see the council of Ennead weekly, whereas Ammon had seen them only once a year when it was mandated.

“You have changes to the law you wish to make?” the priest had asked him.

“Oh yes.” Domin had smiled his wicked smile that made his brown eyes glow. He looked dangerous, like some sort of pirate king, and the priest shivered just once.

Wine was swapped for vodka and airag, and the talking got louder and more boisterous before people started migrating into dark corners of the warm sandalwood-scented room. The lanterns were dimmed, musicians were ushered in, and the semel of Khertet thanked us all for honoring his house with our presence and thanked the priest for honoring him with the sepat.

Many of the people, both men and women, who had been serving had returned and were now offering more than food and drink to the guests of their tribe. Andrian and Taj both had a woman in their laps, and Danny was almost in Mikhail’s.

“He’s drunk,” my sylvan said to me even as he smiled up at my whimpering cousin. “I’m gonna go put him in bed.” He smiled at me, shaking his head even as Danny leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his neck.