Mine to Take (20 page)

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Authors: Dara Joy

BOOK: Mine to Take
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The Mother’s silver eyes gleamed. “Most astute.”

“And Gian…Gian has incredible
sexual
power. He uses it to his advantage in whatever way he can.”

“Gian has more power than you think.”

Jenise snorted, not understanding what the Mother was implying. “I am well aware of his gifts; he has fairly beguiled me.”

The old woman smiled. “Of course he has; I would have expected no less from him.”

Blushing, Jenise returned her smile.

“Tell me, Jenise, does he overwhelm you?”

“Yes,” she admitted.

“And this bothers you because you fear you lose yourself to his passion.”

“Yes. It is the way with men and power—no matter what power they wield. I do not wish to be part of their play of power.”

“You already are and always have been. You cannot deny the path your destiny takes.”

“Perhaps not.” Jenise shrugged. “But I can seek to alter the route of it, can I not?”

The Mother’s expression was enigmatic. “In matters of reasoning, you would have made an excellent Tan-Shi.”

Jenise’s aqua eyes flashed at the compliment. “Perhaps I should join you?” She hadn’t thought of it before, but maybe she would like such a life.

A dry, crackling laugh rumbled through the old woman’s chest. “Child, you are not of the temperament.”

“Why not?”

The Mother’s lips twitched. “In order to be a Tan-Shi,
you must divest yourself of…let us simply say that you enjoy your Gian too much.”

“Oh.” She colored.

The Mother patted her arm in a kind way. “Which is a good thing as well—simply a different pathway. Besides, I think Gian Ren would have something to say if you suddenly declared your wish to join us.” She winked at her.

Jenise was surprised at the Mother’s misconception. She immediately corrected her. “He has nothing to say! It is my choice.”

The Mother chuckled. “He was always clever,” she murmured to herself.

“What?”

“I said you are clever and will make the right choice.”

Jenise nodded, her hand playing with the folds of her garment. “I understand your need to be apart though. I have seen the power the men here wield. In a way, you have done as I have. Removed yourself from their ceaseless strategies and quests.”

“You are wrong, Jenise. We are nothing alike in that regard, for what motivates the Tan-Shi is the opposite of what drives you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are running away because you distrust power. We of the Tan-Shi choose not to be warriors; instead we seek to explore our true female power.”

“Female power? What is this female power you speak of?”

“I can only tell you what it is not. It is not male power. It does not come with the flash of a blade or the strength of a fist. It is not born of physical strength but intuitive recognition. That is where our true power lies. In the knowing and in the wisdom.”

“Against male power, what is that? You would do better to become warriors.”

“No. Though it is true we could become as strong as warriors, that is not the way to become our most powerful.”

“How can you say that?” Jenise knew well the power that men brandished. She had been subjected to it her entire life.

“Our Tan-Shi power is likened unto water; it is a gentle and soothing ripple. It is fluid and ever-changing; it flows with life and when it meets an immutable obstacle, it knows to flow around it. Yet it is water that will wear away the mighty rock.”

Jenise thought about what the Tan-Shi Mother was saying. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are who you are, Jenise,” she replied ambiguously. “In the future you will need to think of these things in your life. When you hold a babe in your arms, you have much influence on the perceptions of that child.”

“Babe?
What are you speaking of? I will have no babe! I will not mate.”

The Mother’s eyes gleamed. “There will come a time soon when you will be faced with a vital decision. Remember that male energy is likened to fire; it roars and crackles and consumes, for such is its nature. Then think of the water which flows with life. Fire cannot consume water but water can consume fire. Which do you think is ultimately the stronger?”

Jenise stared at her, staggered by this insight.

“Fire commands all to be his and so becomes enslaved by his rule; water yields to change direction and so flows with freedom.”

Jenise had never viewed it in such a way before. Nonetheless, it had naught to do with her. Her course was set.

The Tan-Shi Mother stood. “Water can continually change its course; remember that too. It is what makes the female so very powerful.”

With that she left.

Jenise sat there for a long time wondering exactly what the mysterious epigrams meant.

And why the Revered Tan-Shi Mother had chosen her to tell it to.

Chapter Thirteen

When Jenise returned to the others, Gian told her they must leave immediately for M’yan.

“So soon?” She had hoped to stay and explore Aviara.

“Yes; the situation with Karpon is very grave, Jenise.”

She flushed at her own insensitivity. Here she had been worried about seeing the sights of Aviara, while Gian’s people were faced with a serious threat from Ganakari. “I am sorry, Gian. Perhaps it would be best if I visit another time? After…when things are…” She was not sure how to finish.

Gian rose from the table to approach her. “I will not hear of it,” he intoned softly. Ambiguously.

“If you are sure.” Jenise did not want to be an imposition.

“I am sure.” He turned to Krue and Suleila. “I will keep you both informed.”

“Please, Gian.” Suleila was also concerned for her people. “You will come soon to visit us again?” she asked Jenise.

“I would like that. I am grateful for your hospitality and kindness.”

Suleila smiled, liking her very much.
{You have found yourself a treasure, Gian.}

His lips curled.
{One might say so.}
He sent Krue a glance as he said out loud, “Traed, I would like you to come to M’yan on the morrow.”

Traed paused in the process of taking a bite of food. “For what purpose, Gian?”

Krue met Gian’s eyes and understood. The Familiar was going to give his new son some breathing room. He recognized the wisdom of Gian’s plan. He silently thanked Gian with his eyes, before saying, “It matters not the purpose, Traed. When
taj
Gian invites a member of the Lodarres line to his home, we accept unconditionally. Is that not so, Gian?”

“That is so, Krue.”

Traed’s nostrils flared. There was naught he could do—except go to M’yan on the morrow. “Very well,” he bit out, annoyed at being so maneuvered. “I will be there.”

Rejar, who had been watching the whole exchange, exhaled ruefully. His brother Traed had a slight reprieve, but it would not last long. Krue expected his sons—all his sons—to be Charl warriors. Rejar had a hard time picturing his dour brother, Traed, on the happy, frolicsome world of the Familiars, where the senses ruled all. It would almost be worth going there just to see such a thing. Rejar reflected on the possibility of fascinating entertainment.

{Do not even think it.}
Gian leveled a no-nonsense look at him.

Rejar flashed his relative a mischievous grin.

Before they left, Gian asked Yaniff to clear Jenise’s translating device so that she could understand the Familiar tongue while on M’yan. Yaniff briefly touched her forehead, saying to the Familiar that it was done.

For a reason she could not name, Jenise had a very peculiar feeling. The Tan-Shi Mother would have told her it was the power of her woman’s intuition.

Gian and Jenise stepped onto the Familiar world of M’yan just as the sun was beginning to set.

It was a world of tropical splendor.

A profusion of heavy red and purple flowers greeted
her eye. The humid air was scented with the foliage surrounding them. There were so many species of animals! It was a world of sounds and color and scents. A place where the senses were heightened and stimulated.

She took a deep breath of the sultry air and as it tingled through her, she realized she had never felt so alive!

“What causes it?” she asked Gian in wonder.

“We know not, but M’yan has this effect on all who come here. It is why we guard our home the way we do. There are those like Karpon who would seek to take it from us were they to learn of its nature.”

Jenise watched Gian; watched him here in his own world where he belonged so completely. It came to her that M’yan and the Familiar people were strangely connected. The elusive beauty of both touched upon those they met to echo forever. No wonder rumors abounded about this place. Would it call to her in the recesses of her mind now that she had glimpsed its tantalizing essence?

As the Familiar undoubtedly would?

They encountered no one en route to his home. Gian explained that it was the time of day most Familiars liked to take a brief rest. They would be rising soon with the setting sun. Secretly, he had planned their arrival exactly at this time to avoid meeting anyone.

Gian observed Jenise’s delight with everything around her. She was smiling now, but she would not be soon. A pang of sorrow hit him; he wished he did not have to do what he was about to do. He sighed.

There was no other way.

It was the nature of moons and stars and Familiars.

He took her hand in his large one and resolutely led her to the home of he who was known as Guardian of the Mist.

It was a rather imposing jumble of a residence, Jenise
concluded as she glanced up at the enormous structure, topped by crenellated turrets and open-air verandas.

As soon as they entered the enormous abode, they were surrounded by servants and others—all exclaiming over his return. One authoritative man finally shooed everyone way.

“What can I get you, Your Majesty?”

Jenise gasped, her incredulous gaze flying to Gian. She knew he had heard her shocked exclamation. Apparently he was choosing to ignore it.

“Nothing, Nirim, we will retire to my chambers immediately.” If the servant was curious—and Gian was positive he was—he admirably held his tongue.

The servant Nirim bowed.

“What do—” Jenise began.

Not answering, Gian simply tugged her after him as Nirim escorted them down several halls, up a level, then down more halls until he stopped before a wide, heavy door.

“Your
utal
will wish to speak with you.”

No doubt he would. His mother’s brother was his first advisor. He was definitely going to have something to say. “Not now. Tell him I will speak with him on the morrow.”

Nirim nodded. “Should I send someone to Her Majesty?” he asked solicitously.

“No.”

Jenise’s brow furrowed. Gian opened the door, yanked her inside and slammed it shut.

They stared at each other in silence.

Finally Jenise spoke. “You are ruler here?”

He pierced her with a steady look. “Yes.”

She lifted her chin a notch, a terrible feeling sinking into her bones. “Of this principality?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Of
every
principality. I am king of all Familiars, Jenise.”

His words were like a blow to her. “I see.”

“Do you? My eye color determined my destiny the moment I was born, for there is but one child born per generation who has three golden flecks on green. Such a male is said to be ‘king’ Familiar; that none can compete with his abilities and so he rules.”

“I see.”

“Although not customary, this trait has been passed down through my family for many generations; so it was that my father ruled before me. The trait does have a tendency to stay in royal houses.”

“I see.”

“We are a clan people. Each clan has its own ruler. I rule them all.”

“I see.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Can you say naught but ‘I see’?”

She inhaled a short breath and exhaled it as her temper flared. With an iron will, she tamped it down. “I did not know that Familiar eye color was significant.”

“No, we keep that knowledge amongst ourselves. You can imagine what would have occurred if Karpon knew who I was.”

That much was true.
But he could have told me.
Her temper rose another notch. “Rejar’s eyes—blue and gold…”

“Blue denotes that the house he comes from is also royal. There are many variations and subtleties amongst the clans.”

“I see.”

Gian watched her carefully. Like a hunter patiently waiting for his prey to spring. “The Mist is another, secret name for my people.
Taj
Gian—literally, King Guardian; Gian Ren—Guardian of the Mist.”

Jenise looked at the wall behind him, too furious to meet his calm gaze.
Taja…
The word echoed in her mind.
A word she foolishly had assumed was a simple endearment! Her hands shook with anger. “When did you mate with me?”

“The very first time.”

She felt her eyes moisten but she staunchly refused to give in to
that
emotion. “How did Nirim know?”

“Our senses are different from yours. I placed my mark upon you.”

She glanced down at herself. “I do not see anything.”

He smiled without humor. “I assure you, it is there for all to see.”

She sucked in her breath and finally raised her eyes to his. “You cannot mean this!”

“It was your choice,” he intoned evenly.

That did it.
Jenise’s controlled facade cracked just as Gian had intended. “My choice?! My choice!” she ranted, throwing her arms up in the air. Like a
true
Familiar, she began to pace before him. Gian’s eyes flashed with sudden heat as he watched her.

She stopped before him, her head snapping up to capture him in her outraged look. “You took the choice from me just as Karpon did! Wherein lies the difference?”

Gian visibly flinched. “You dare say that to me?” he rasped. “Compare me to such a man?”

She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth, for in truth there was no similarity between the two. Karpon had tried to force her to bend to his will for the sake of his power. Gian had protected her and pleasured her and showed her what it meant to—

It mattered not!

“You lured me and tricked me, setting the parameters to suit you!”

“You did not mind when you wished to use me in a similar fashion and you believed yourself to have power over me. Think on that.” His low voice was a rumbling purr.

Jenise blanched. “It was not the same!”

“Really. I will remind you that you bargained with me for the use of my body. What right did you think you had to do that?”

She looked away.

“Tell me,” he said softly, with a thread of menace, “would you have left me there to rot if I had refused you?”

She swallowed. “You are twisting things. It was not my doing that you were captured.”

“True. But it was your
responsibility
once you knew the situation.”

He staggered her.

“This is why you have such a reputation, Guardian of the Mist! You can twist reality with words to muddle your opponent! You should be proud of such an ability.”

He viewed her obliquely. “Are you my opponent, Jenise?”

“If not, then what?” she flung back at him.

He exhaled heavily. “I warned you back on Ganakari that appearances can be deceiving. You
chose
not to heed that warning. Now you are mine—how did you put it? Ah, yes—
to take.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “What are you saying?”

“I am a male Familiar.”

“So? What point are you trying to make?”

“That
is
my point.” He began pacing toward her with deliberate steps. “Did you expect me to behave in a way foreign to my nature? We sense our mates; I knew who you were the instant you entered that cell. I am who I am. You are who you are…to me. Therefore, I am—”

“A
predator,”
she sneered.

“When it suits me.” He stalked closer to her.

“A hunter!” she threw at him, incensed.

“Depends on what you deem the hunt,” he murmured, coming closer.

“A king! You are a king!” She yelled what she considered the worst offense.

“Very much so.” He caught her face between his strong palms, forcing her to look up at him. Then he lowered his silken mouth close to hers.

“And you, Creamcat, are my queen.” He covered her lips and took her breath. A sharp, quick inhalation.

Jenise panicked, pounding on his broad chest. The warm, dry lips cleaved to hers, a firm, unyielding siege.

And when she began to grow faint, he casually blew into her mouth.

Letting her know it was his breath alone.

His.

She ignored him after he released her.

She disrobed silently and got into the enormous, low bed, which was covered in silken jade and gold
krilli
cloth and cushions. The same color as his eyes…In fact, many of the fabrics and furnishings seemed to reflect his eye color, as if the tones represented a symbol of—

She did not want to think of those mesmerizing eyes or anything else about Guardian of the Mist.

When Gian disrobed and joined her, she turned her back on him.

He slid in next to her and took her in his arms.

“Leave me be.” Her voice was cold.

“You are my mate.”

“Then that is unfortunate for you.” His eyes sparked with anger but he released her. Familiar men did not take well to being denied their mates. And Gian was very much a Familiar male.

Tired from the events of the past days, Jenise quickly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night she awoke with an intense desire that bordered on pain. Her breasts throbbed, her
nipples tingled, her skin hummed with arousal. The curls between her legs were wet.

Gian came over her, the moon surrounding him with a halo of muted light. His incredibly handsome features were starkly sensual and starkly resolved.

She wanted him so much she ached with it. “What did you do to me?” she moaned.

He did not speak to her. His fingers delved into her hair to capture her in his possessive, feral hold. He did not take his eyes from her as he slid fast into her, hot and determined.

Jenise threw her head back and cried out at the sensual torture that was at once pleasure and pain. Pleasure from his touch and pain from needing it.

“What do you do to me, Gian?”
she gasped as he silently answered her with ecstasy from his body.

His bold thrusts told her.

His lapping tongue told her.

His grazing teeth told her.

His stroking palms told her.

He was Guardian of the Mist. King of all Familiars. And she was his to take.

When Gian entered his official chambers the following morning, he was not surprised to see that H’riar, his
utal,
was already waiting for him. His first advisor had the reputation of being relentless; no matter how small the matter at hand, he never rested until it was resolved.

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