Stardancer Page 7
“Okay. ” She squared her shoulders. "Tell me."
“I would have you as my bound mate, Cy’atta.”
The breath rushed out of her lungs. For a moment she went numb at the idea of it. From everything she’d gleaned from her studies, Az-kye men kept their mates closely guarded, virtual prisoners. Az-kye warriors had attacked Tellaran men who had approached their women at the one failed attempt at a peace conference between their peoples.
“Us – marry?” she asked faintly. “Why would you even want to?”
His dark gaze was hot. “I will have you.” His fingers touched her hair and his voice was husky. “I will have all of you.”
Her heart thudded dully in her chest. She was in way over her head here.
I need a minute to think. “What does that mean exactly? If I agree to this?”
“You will be bound to me. You give your loyalty, your respect to me above all others. You will bear me children and be Ti’antah of my clan.”
Bound. An Az-kye custom cloaked in mystery and the source of both speculation and many crude jokes in Tellaran space. How that Az-kye ritual worked wasn’t known but it worked very well, as in permanently. Kyndan said they shared blood somehow. Scholarly works claimed it was done by some kind of trance state.
Oh, man. She wet her lips. Can I really do this? Pledge my life to him like that, undergo whatever barbaric ceremony they do?
“But in return you’ll free my crew? You’ll send them all home safely to Tellaran space?”
He met her eyes squarely. “Yes.”
She swallowed hard. She thought for an instant of the academy life her father had arranged for her, the hopes she’d had for a career in the Fleet, for a husband and family. Whatever marriage she would have with this Az-kye, it would not be like anything she’d imagined for herself.
Her father, her cousins, aunts and uncles. Her friends. She felt such a wave of homesickness tears stung her eyes.
She might never see Tellaran space or her family or friends again. But her people would.
A commander thinks of her crew.
She gave a nod. “Then I’m yours.”
Aidar’s eyes glinted. “You agree? You will bind with me?”
“If that is what you are asking of me in exchange for my crew’s freedom, then yes, I agree.”
“You understand what you promise to me?”
Her heart was hammering. “I’ll be your wife.”
“And a ‘wife’,” his tongue worked around the Tellaran word awkwardly,“gives complete loyalty and holds to her mate above all? She obeys as a bound mate should?”
She swallowed hard. She gave lip service to obeying him before but this was different. This was her own choice, the bargain she chose to strike.
“Yes.”
His gaze went hot. “As ‘wife’ you will give yourself completely?”
Kinara took a deep breath. “Yes, I will.”
“Then we are so.” His face fairly glowed with triumph. “You are mine.”
She blinked. “Wait, that’s it? Isn’t there a ceremony, a party or—?”
“There would be many forms to be followed and festivities had you clan or name but you do not. It is done.” He glanced at her tunic. “Take that off.”
“What?”
“The dress you wear, remove it. You are not Tellaran.”
It was spoken with such disdain that Kinara’s back stiffened. “Oh? What am I?”
“You are Az-kye.”
Kinara made no move to pull it off. “And what do you suggest I wear instead? Or do your mates walk around naked?”
“Perhaps it would please me that you should.”
She wet her lips. “And does it?”
The smile that touched his lips was almost feral. “For a time.”
Her cheeks went hot and she turned away as she pulled the tunic over her head and dropped it to the floor. She turned back to him and her hands jerked as she fought the impulse to hide her body.
His gaze ran slowly over her and when his eyes met hers again, their darkness burned.
“Come here,” he said hoarsely.
Her mouth went dry. “Why?”
“You are my mate now. Come here.”
She forced herself forward. Pride kept her spine straight but nothing could stop her trembling. When she was a step shy of him she stopped.
“I will not hurt you, Cy’atta.” He touched her hair, his fingers sliding through the strands. “Do you desire me?”
Kinara looked away.
He traced the skin of her collarbone. “Do you?”
“I can’t answer you,” she said, helpless anger giving her the strength to look at him. “What do you want me to say? That I’m looking forward to being bedded by an Az-kye?”
“You are Az-kye.”
“I don’t know your ways, Aidar. I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“This saying of my name pleases me.”
The throb in his voice sent a rush of warmth through her center and she jerked her chin up. “I’m serious. You’ll have to teach me how to be your mate.”
“To do this will also please me,” he murmured.
The timber of his voice sent her heart hammering. “As you like."
His warm palm rested on the curve of her waist. “Then you do not desire me as I desire you?”
She gave a shaky shrug.
A knowing smile lifted his mouth. “I think it is I who have won now, Cy’atta.”
Kinara felt her nostrils flare. “Actually, I’d bet I’d rather sleep in a sular pasture than with you, you filthy — filthy —”
He nodded. “Then I am in need of bath. You will attend me in this.”
She blinked “Wait, what?”
In response he led her to the bathing chamber. The water, churning and hot already waited and steam curled upward from the pool.
It took her a heartbeat to realize that his clothes were coming off, and fast.
Tall and broad without a bit of extra flesh his body was magnificent. Taut muscles were a mute testament to his strength. If he appeared powerful in the clothes of a warrior, it was nothing compared to the sight of him without them.
He tossed away the last of his clothing and stood bare under her gaze without the least discomfort. In fact, from the heat of his gaze and the reaction of his male part, shame was the last thing on his mind.
“Why do you look away?” he asked. “Have you never seen a man before?”
Kinara forced herself to look at his eyes, and keep her gaze there. “Of course I have. I’ve seen plenty. I mean I’ve seen a lot. Of men.”
He tilted his head. “Then I am different.”
“Different?” Her gaze dipped for an instant and her cheeks went hot when she realized what she was doing. “I-I don’t know. You’re bigger than Tellaran men.” She shut her eyes for a moment. “I mean, taller. You’re taller than Tellaran men.”
He nodded. “It pleases me that I am . . . taller.”
Her cheeks were burning now.
Chuckling, he walked past her and lowered his body into the pool. “Come here, Cy’atta.”
She stopped several steps shy of the pool. “What do you want?”
“I would have you wash my hair.” He dipped his head back into the water, and closed his eyes.
Wash his—? Kinara sighed. Well, I promised.
Grabbing one of the large thick towels, she placed it at the edge of the pool and used it as padding under her knees as she knelt. She dipped a cake of soap in the water, rubbing it between her hands to get a lather. Kneeling like this, with her hair covering her breasts, also made her feel a little less exposed.
“All right, come here. I’m ready to wash your hair.”
He lifted his head to look at her and frowned.
“Well, come on,” she said annoyed. “Do you want me to do this or not?”
“You cannot wash me from there.”
Kinara let her breath out slowly. “Fine. Where do you want me to b
e?”
“In the water,” he said as if it were obvious.
She was already shaking with nerves. Get in there with him? “No way.”
His frown deepened. “It is simple. There are steps into the pool.”
She dropped the soap. “I don’t mean there’s no way to get in there, I mean there’s no way I’m getting in there.”
“Are you afraid of water, Cy’atta?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then you are afraid of me.”
Her back stiffened. “I am not!”
He sighed. “Again with lies.”
She scrambled to her feet. “I’m not lying! You miserable — Damn it — Fine!”
She stepped down into the pool quickly, grateful for the relative covering of the water. The warmth of it felt wonderful against her skin. His body brushed against her, a warm solid bulk of muscled thigh touched hers and she jumped.
Abruptly, Aidar turned his back to her. “You will wash my hair now.”
Kinara lunged for the soap. She lifted her eyes and reached for his hair.
Her lips parted as she got her first close up look at the scars on his back. Some were years old and faded, some still angry red marks. Unthinkingly she reached out to touch him.
He looked over his shoulder at her as her fingers traced his skin.
“You’ve been hurt,” she said.
He turned toward her and her gaze fell on the scars on his chest and upper arms. She moved closer, her fingers caressing the marks as if to draw away the pain.
“I do not hurt,” he said hoarsely.
She touched a white scar over his ribs. “Who did this to you?”
He glanced down, his brows drawn together. “Pinteh of the clan Tansar.”
Her fingers reached the mark on his shoulder. “How could he do this?”
“He did not. That was given by Uthan of clan Az’en.” He smirked. “The one I gave him was far worse.”
She stared at him for a moment. “You mean you purposely give each other scars?”
He shrugged. “Scars are the mark of a warrior.”
“You mean warriors just square off and start pounding each other?”
Aidar laughed. “No, Cy’atta. We use our swords.”
“That’s barbaric!”
Aidar’s smile disappeared. “But Tellarans are civilized.”
“Well, we don’t go around trying to chop each other up with swords!”
His lip curled. “No, you do not even show your faces when you attack.”
“Well at least we aren’t proud of cutting each other up. We’d have the sense to get out of the way if someone’s coming at us with a starblasted sword!”
“And Tellaran women choose mates as soft and unmarked as themselves!” He snatched up the soap and turned away from her.
Somehow it penetrated Kinara’s outraged mind that it wasn’t Aidar’s way to toss insults around like that. She had really deeply offended him, again.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted.
He turned back to look at her, his eyebrows raised.
Fair was fair. “You’re right, the way I attacked your ship was cowardly. Maybe your way is more honorable.” She swallowed. “At least you know who you’re fighting and they can see you coming.”
His stance softened. “And perhaps it is sometimes better to get out of the way of a starblasted sword,” he said, his pronunciation of the Tellaran word drawing a smile from her.
Well, it was a little bit of a compromise. Shyly she reached out and took the soap from him. “Turn around.”
He did, and lowered his body into the water to let her reach his hair. She lathered the thick golden strands and he made a sound of pleasure as her fingers massaged.
“But, uh, Aidar, you probably shouldn’t use that word.”
He tilted his head to look back at her, his face puzzled. “Which word, my mate?”
“‘Starblasted’. It’s, um, kind of a strong word.” At his frown, she hurriedly amended, “I mean it’s an impolite word.”
“Ah. So I will know when you are thinking it about me.”
She blinked. How did he–? Aidar grinned and she dunked his head under the water. He came up sputtering, his smile quickly back in place and caught her against him.
The shock of contact was immediate. With the water churning and her mind on unraveling the Az-kye point of view, Kinara could almost forget that they were both bare in the water. Now with her body pressed against his it was impossible to think of anything else. He was solid muscle against her, caught in his powerful arms she could do nothing but gaze up into the heated darkness of his eyes.
Aidar lowered his head, his mouth brushed hers, gently urging. His probings froze her in stunned pleasure and Kinara parted her lips allowing him to deepen the kiss. Her eyes closed, her arms going around his neck as she responded, meeting his explorations with her own. She made a soft sound in her throat as she felt him hard and hot against her belly.
“This is no place for our first joining, my mate,” he murmured.
Her mind was slow with desire and at first she didn’t understand him. Suddenly the soft buzz of his words brought everything rushing back. She looked away.
“Cy’atta?” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek.
I promised. “Yes?” she asked hoarsely. “What do you want me to do?”
“Turn around,” he urged softly. “I will wash your hair.”
Kinara turned her back on him, hugging herself as he lathered her hair. His hands were unbelievably gentle as he bathed her.
Later Aidar wrapped her in a large soft towel, drying her as if she were a child. He threw a thick blue robe around her shoulders. She pushed her arms into it gratefully, watching as Aidar took another robe, this one a deep red, to wrap around himself.
She held the soft blue cloth against her skin suddenly thinking of Kyndan. When Aidar took her hand in his, Kinara wished so desperately that he weren’t an Az-kye that tears stung her eyes.
Kinara blinked away her tears before he could see them.
Dinner was waiting when they returned to the main chamber. Kinara’s stomach growled when the tantalizing smell reached her. Platters of food dishes filled the table.
Kinara’s hands brushed the robe selfconsciously. “Shouldn’t we get dressed?”
Aidar gave a short laugh. “It is our binding time.”
She wet her lips, every ugly rumor she’d heard about that particular Az-kye custom returning to haunt her.
He gave her a hot smile and handed her a plate. “We will eat first, Cy’atta. For strength.”
She felt the blood drain from her face.
His brow creased. “You are unwell?”
“No, I’m — I’m fine. I’m just . . . ” She took a deep breath. I made this bargain. I’ll see it through. “I’m fine.”
“You are hungry,” he determined. “Choose for us, Cy’atta.”
Kinara looked over the unfamiliar dishes and offered him the plate. “I don’t know what you’d like. Maybe you should choose for yourself this time.”
“It is your place to choose. Surely those who raised you taught you manners.”
Can’t he make this just a little easier? “They must have skipped the part about serving barbarians.”
“You do not. You serve your mate,” he said mildly, and turning his back went and sat on one of the low couches.
He stretched comfortably before the holo-fire.
“Have it your way,” Kinara muttered under her breath.
She grabbed the first serving utensil and deposited a huge green glop on the plate. She added a scoop of some red leafy root floating in grease on top of the green stuff and worked her way down the table. When she was sure that a less appetizing, more colorful mess had never been created she went to stand before Aidar and, smiling sweetly, offered it to him.
He looked over the plate. He nodded approvingly.
“You have chosen well.” He held up a two-pronged fork. “And
now we will eat it.”
Kinara blinked. “But this is your plate.”
“No,” he said, drawing her down to sit beside him. “This is our plate. And now we serve each other.”
He speared some of the mess onto the fork and held it out to her.
She swallowed hard at the sight of the multicolored Az-kye cuisine then opened her mouth.
Kinara couldn’t have said how she managed to get the food down but she certainly enjoyed feeding Aidar his share.
He carefully poured amber colored wine from a delicate crystal bottle into a cup for them to share. He brushed a kiss over her mouth then took a swallow and offered it to her.
She drank deeply hoping it would settle her nerves. She licked the sweetness from her lips. It was good, very strong and felt warm on her tongue. Aidar pressed it on her, insisting they finish it all of it. Kinara drank what she could, her head already humming from it. He drained the last of it from the cup then kissed her again and she could taste the heady sweetness of it on his tongue as he deepened the kiss.
When he broke away, his smile was shy.
He drew her down to the couch. His arms went around her and she sighed, feeling her shoulders relax as she settled against him. She watched the simulated flames dance for a time.
“It’s so strange,” she murmured.
He kissed her hair. “What is?”
“To want a fire on a warship.”
“Is it?” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I have often wondered how the Tellarans can fight if they do not bring reminders of home with them.”
Stars, his eyes are gorgeous.
Kinara shook herself. “Why would you bring home with you?” she asked. At the reproachful look in his eyes she amended, “Why would we?”
His fingers lightly brushed her neck. “A warrior will always fight harder for his home. For his clan.”
He continued to stroke her, his fingers running over the skin of her throat and his touch raised gooseflesh of pleasure on her arms.
She frowned, trying to pick up the thread of their conversation again. “So, the Az-kye bring things to remind them of home?”
He nodded.
“What things? Families? Mates?”
“Sometimes,” he said, letting his fingers slide down to caress her shoulder.