Taken: Warriors of Hir, Book 2 (20 page)

Ki’san’s face tightened. “What I am is immaterial. These are her words. She does not wish to see you again. She made me promise I would—”

“These are lies!” But the healer did not look malicious, he looked grieved. Nostrils flared, R’har pushed past him. “I must see her—”

“The captain has already issued orders in accordance with her wishes!” the doctor warned. “The guards will not permit you near her.”

R’har shook his head again. “But—why?” he rasped. “Why would she do this?”

But he knew.

“She did not confide that in me.” Ki’san passed his hand over his eyes. “But others heard her words. She made the declaration publicly.”

“No.” R’har staggered back. “No . . .”

“I am sorry, R’har,” Ki’san said quietly, and his gaze reflected sympathy. “She has abjured you.”

Twenty-three

Holy crap.

Hope stood at the top of the shuttle’s ramp and swallowed hard. The chill air of Hir’s autumn stung her cheeks as she regarded the scores of Yir warriors in the courtyard below, all assembled expressly to welcome her to their enclosure.

She hadn’t wanted to come here, to R’har’s home in the Atarra valley, but being human meant she didn’t have an enclosure of her own to return to. She might have ended things with R’har but the Yir—in fact the g’hir as a people—weren’t about to make it easy for a fertile human female go home.  R’har had captured her, and by their law he had an entire moon cycle to convince her to stay.

Unless she wanted to choose another mate.

She wasn’t about to pick another g’hir male but by her own declaration wasn’t R’har’s mate either, even though he still had a claim to her. The whole thing left her in a kind of legal limbo she scarcely understood, and offers to pay formal court to her poured in within an hour of her arrival on Hir. 

The Ruling Council, aware of the danger of having a human female up for grabs in their custody, argued hotly amongst themselves. Fearful of an attack on the Council building itself, the majority voted to acknowledge the claim of R’har’s clan and declared she be sent to the Yir enclosure for their clanbrother’s remaining choosing time. She was placed her under the protection of his clan and spirited out of the capital.

Hope didn’t want to be here and she sure hadn’t expected this kind of turnout for her arrival.

Arrayed in the courtyard below stood rows and rows of Yir clanbrothers in respectful anticipation. The hundreds of glowing eyes fixed on her had Hope gripping the doorway and fighting the urge to retreat back into the warm shuttle’s cabin to hide.

“Mata?”

Hope glanced over her shoulder and
up
at Ha’kin, one of the eight warriors who had raced to the capital to claim her. These warriors, all Yir clanbrothers, had surrounded her the instant the Ruling Counsel acknowledged their claim to her. From their narrowed eyes, the way their hands hovered near their blasters and how their fangs showed in warning as they eyed other g’hir males in the capital, it was clear they were prepared to defend that claim with violence.

The whole idea of being something—a
commodity
—that these people willingly would shed blood over churned her stomach.

Ha’kin hadn’t left her side since that moment and she appreciated his protection even if she didn’t take the same comfort in his presence as she had R’har’s. A g’hir warrior, Ha’kin was nearly seven feet tall and powerfully built. He was blond, an apparently common trait for the Yir, his hair a darker shade than R’har’s but lightened here and there by Hir’s suns.

His startling teal-colored eyes regarded her now with concern. “Are you all right?”

Hope looked back at the hundreds of men awaiting her in the courtyard. “I, uh, I just didn’t expect such a turnout.” Her gaze took in banners and streamers that must have been hung for her arrival. “This is a little much.”

“I will send them away,” he offered swiftly. “I will tell them they have made you uneasy, that they must disburse immediately.”

Hope shifted her weight. Ha’kin struck her as a truly nice guy, the kind who would probably stand up for her even if she weren’t up for grabs. But he—and the other clanbrothers who had escorted her here—would probably do cartwheels for her if it meant getting her attention and furthering their chances of being chosen as her new mate.

Her attention was drawn back to the warriors below and her gaze darted about, seeking him among the men assembled. She’d felt R’har’s absence from the moment the medical doors slid shut behind her, almost as if she’d lost a part of herself. She’d never felt anything like it; not even losing her “perfect” fiancé had compared. And now, arriving at R’har’s enclosure and seeing the scores of alien strangers awaiting her, she felt such a wave of longing for him, such a need just to know him nearby no matter how mad she was, that it was painful.

But R’har was not numbered here among the many warriors or part of the pair who came forward to greet her at the bottom of the ramp. One was another g’hir warrior but the other, decked out like a queen, was clearly the Yir’s future clanmother.

Hope’s gaze met the g’hir female’s and even from here she could see that the woman’s rippled brow creased at how Hope lingered in the doorway and delayed her descent from the shuttle.

It hadn’t really struck home how little Hope knew about the g’hir people, about their culture and etiquette, till she’d broken it off with R’har and had to deal with the captain and crew of the warship on her own. Either because he’d spent time on Earth or because he’d been prepared as one selected to travel there or simply because he’d spent time with her and been a quick study, R’har had apparently gone out of his way to act human.

But the g’hir she’d met since she’d walked out of the medical center
didn’t
. They certainly weren’t out to offend her but these were aliens, with their own rules of society including their own manners and expectations—nearly all of which she was completely ignorant.

And from the look the woman standing at the bottom of the ramp was giving her, clearly lingering here was
not
what she was supposed to be doing.

“No,” Hope said quietly. “I’m going to have to meet them sooner or later anyway.”

But it wasn’t easy to walk down there, with all the expectations they had of her, with all those gazes watching her every move, so many of them hoping she would choose him as a mate instead.

The outfit she was wearing didn’t help either. The men had brought with them clothing for her that consisted of soft boots and a dress embroidered in silver thread. Over it she wore a sweeping floor-length coat in matching ivory, trimmed at the hood, wrists, and hem with some kind of fluffy, soft white fur. The whole ensemble looked like something a medieval Russian princess might have worn.

She wasn’t used to the length but at least the boots were flats and easy to walk in. At her height she’d always felt self-conscious about wearing heels but here, at least, she wouldn’t have to worry about that. When she stepped from the ramp onto the courtyard Hope, so tall for a human, found herself having the unusual experience of looking up at another woman.

The g’hir female was easily over six feet tall in flats. She was lovely too, her ridges and the bones of her face far more delicate than the males’, and she certainly took pains to show off her good looks. Her eyes, bright green and a bit upturned at the corners, were highlighted with shimmery, sparkly shadow, her full mouth bright with a red lip shade. Jeweled earrings, a darker green than her eyes, dangled and swayed as the woman stepped forward, her pretty fangs flashing in a smile.

“Mata, I am Si’hala,” she said, her growl softer, higher in pitch than that of the males. She indicated the man at her side. “My mate, Lihr.”

The man bent his head to her. “Mata.”

“Hi,” Hope said, giving him a nod. She immediately realized it was a human mannerism and wondered if she should do the g’hir chin thing instead, but then Si’hala was talking again.

“On behalf of the whole Yir enclosure, Mata,” Si’hala continued, indicating the rows of warriors behind her, “I welcome you home.”

“I appreciate your kindness, Si’hala, and theirs,” Hope began guardedly. “But I’m not staying. I’m just here until I can return to Earth.”

“If that is what you decide,” Si’hala agreed, her growl warm, friendly, and too quick to be really sincere. “But for now, the Yir enclosure is your home.”

“This isn’t an ‘if,’” Hope began, her face flushing with annoyance. The wind had picked up, the fur trim of the hood tickling her eyes, and she pushed the thing back. “I
am
going back to—”

A ripple of shock ran through the assembled g’hir, and the warriors, who had been so silent and still, shifted, trying to get a better look at her, murmuring.

Si’hala’s mouth dropped open and she too was staring.

“What?” Hope exclaimed, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Your hair . . .”

“What about it?” Hope sent a questioning look at Ha’kin. The clanbrothers who had escorted her here had stared at her, sure, being human and female and all but they hadn’t made a big deal about her hair in particular.

“It is  . . .
fire
,” one of the warriors who stood behind Lihr murmured.

“Oh,” Hope said, her hand going to her curls, trying to tame them against the blowing wind. “Yes, it is.”

Si’hala’s eyebrows shot up. “‘Oh, yes, it is’?” She looked pointedly at Hope’s red hair and shook her head in wonderment. “Hair like that and
she
says . . .”

Suddenly Si’hala sent a quick darting glance at the warriors around them, at how the men were breaking lines, pressing forward to get a better look, and quickly clasped Hope’s upper arm.

“But I must not keep you here shivering in the cold!” she said a little too loudly, already urging Hope through the staring crowd and toward the largest building in the courtyard. “Come indoors where it is warm.”

Si’hala hurried her along inside and Hope drew in her breath, taking in the soaring entry hall with wide eyes. The place was huge; a wide staircase that wound upwards to floors above and rooms lined either side of this center area. Tiles of blue shimmered beneath her feet and the whole space had an ancient organic feel and an astonishing majestic grandeur. 

“
This
is a clan hall?” she managed. “It looks like a palace!”

It gave her a funny feeling to be in the place where R’har been a carefree child before the Scourge, then a grieving boy and an orphan in its wake. To stand here, on the stones he’d walked across as a young man, proud to have earned the title of “warrior” among his people, sent an shock of awareness through her.

She wet her lips and glanced about but R’har didn’t await her inside the hall either.

So where the hell is he?

She’d made a mistake by having the doctor tell him for her. She should have broken it off in person. Since then she caught herself rehearsing in her mind what she’d say to him, just how she’d really let him have it for all the bullshit he pulled.

But now, knowing she’d see him any moment, all those angry words and clever cuts vanished from her mind. She had not a single idea what she’d say to him.

This was his home and he’d never spoken of his enclosure without pride. He was here somewhere and sooner or later she’d have to deal with him.

She just hoped when they did meet up she held it together.

“I forgot that you have never been inside one,” Si’hala said.

“No, I haven’t,” Hope murmured. “I mean, I only got to Hir this morning.”

The rest of the clan, warriors mostly, although Hope did spy a handful of women among them, had followed them inside and were filling the hall.

All those bright, glowing eyes still on her.

Here and there she could see the warriors jostling each other to get nearer, to get even a half step closer to her. Ha’kin and her original honor guard had quietly imposed themselves between her and them.

Si’hala indicated a large archway and the room beyond furnished long tables, the space beribboned with colorful streamers. “Your welcome banquet has been prepared.”

“Banquet?” Hope stopped short, her darting glance now seeking some route of escape. The last thing she wanted to do was eat with so many people watching her. “Oh, no, I don’t think—”

“Of
course
you will want to refresh your appearance before we go in.” Si’hala addressed her mate as she urged Hope toward the stairs. “Lihr, we will join you and the others shortly but do not feel you need wait to begin the feast.” She sent a warm smile at Hope. “We are all family, after all.”

“Of course.” He turned with good humor toward his clanbrothers.  “Come, we must feast well for we have much to thank the All Mother for.” Lihr clapped one warrior on the shoulder. “And I for one am famished.”

Hope followed Si’hala up the stairs to the third level but she couldn’t miss how some of the men lingered below to watch her till the very last second.

“Are you all right?” Si’hala asked quietly. “Your face shows much distress.”