Read Drink of Me Page 32


  “Because if I don’t you’ll toss me to the Yesu.” She sighed.

  “That isn’t funny,” he snapped, rising on an elbow to loom ominously over her. “Don’t even joke about it.”

  “Well then, don’t ask me that ridiculous question the next time I tell you I love you,” she scolded back with equal warning. “I don’t give trust nor love easily, and I don’t like having them questioned when I do.”

  “It was a legitimate question,” he complained. “You held yourself in reserve until now, and I wanted to know what had changed.”

  That surprised her and he watched her startled expression with a smug satisfaction. She was far too knowing for her own good. “Reserve?” she asked a little nervously.

  “I’m an empath, baby. I don’t need a declaration to feel your love. Though don’t think I don’t find declarations enjoyable.”

  She snorted out a soft laugh. “So you already knew I was in love with you?”

  “Well, I was reasonably certain.” He chuckled.

  “Well, I wasn’t,” she complained. “Not without knowing who I was. It was like offering you only half of myself, and I knew that wasn’t how I loved. Not the proper way.” She softened as she reached to stroke her fingers over the beginning bristles of his whiskers. “And that is what has changed. I know all of myself now. You can’t give something you don’t have. Now that I have all of me, I’m giving me to you.”

  “Mmm, no. Just your heart. Give me just your heart. The rest is yours, kébé. I won’t take away any of your independence or your rights like your people so callously did.”

  “Just my heart?” She lifted a brow.

  “Well, and the occasional loan of this delectable body,” he amended with a chuckle, bending to lick one of the wounds he’d made once again. “And your loyalty.” He thought about it a moment. “Fidelity. Fidelity too.”

  “I don’t know…this list is getting awfully long,” she complained. She burst into giggles when he nipped her earlobe in punishment. “Why don’t we simply say that we will give one another exactly what we get from each other for as long as we live.”

  “That sounds suspiciously like a marriage vow.” He grinned. “I think I will have the minister add that to our ceremony.”

  “And when will that be? I don’t mind letting the Yesu assume I’m Prima, but I won’t parade myself like a fake before your people. It would be an insult. It’s no way to earn their trust.”

  “I know. That’s why only the Pack and Amando’s family will be at this meal with the Yesu.”

  “Oh! You just reminded me of something,” she exclaimed, pushing herself over until he was on his back and she’d crawled atop him. She looked down into his eyes. “I wish to make Liandra Prima Counselor.”

  “Your first Pack,” Reule said with pleasure. “I hadn’t even considered you’d find someone so soon. She’s an excellent choice for so prestigious a role. Amando’s little sister.”

  “She’s a very powerful telepath, someone I’m well advised to have constantly at my side in this ’pathic society. It will keep everyone honest.”

  “Ah. I see you’ve been making friends with the darker side of my court,” he said with a frown.

  “Nothing I cannot handle for myself. Especially with Liandra by my side. She is a fighter, that one.”

  “Rather like her mistress,” Reule mused with a chuckle.

  “Perhaps. But she’s also very wise and has proved herself invaluable and indispensable in the mere hours I have spent with her. My Intuition screams for her with every fiber of my being.”

  “Hmm. Not to mention it’d place her well within reach of Darcio.”

  Mystique gasped, her eyes widening.

  “Darcio?”

  “Not to fear. Her secret is safe with me.”

  “I know that.” She tsked irritably, slapping his shoulder. “But why do you say Darcio? She didn’t tell me…and how did you…? Never mind,” she said hastily when he cocked an amused brow at the ridiculous question forthcoming. “What of Darcio?” she asked, suddenly eager for information.

  “Completely oblivious,” Reule chuckled. “Darcio lives to serve me and the Pack. He doesn’t know how to live for himself. Well, to be fair,” he amended, “Darcio loves me and the Pack, so in that way he is serving himself. It pleases him enormously to be here. But I don’t think he’s ever considered sectioning off a part of his life that has nothing to do with us. Perhaps, though, it’s time my Pack learned to cultivate themselves more richly outside of Pack duty and loyalty.”

  “They’ll learn by your example,” she said fondly, stroking a finger over his lips before dipping her head to kiss him. She pulled back an inch, cocking her head. “Does Darcio even notice her a little?”

  “I shouldn’t say, since you cannot always protect your thoughts. You do have impressively selective mental defenses, however. Have I mentioned that?”

  “It takes a singular sort of focus, and I’m better at being open and giving than I am at shutting off and out. You’re dodging the question,” she noted.

  “I am. Let us allow them to work it out for themselves, shall we? We will make Liandra Pack after you’re made Prima and Pack yourself. The rest will unfold as it will. Now, however, I think I need to send you off to Para. I’ve made a disaster of your pretty efforts to make me proud.”

  “You were pleased,” she said with satisfaction.

  “I’m always pleased,” he assured her. “With you.”

  “I don’t give an icy damn, Knar! If you do anything to overtly threaten that woman again I’ll cut your throat and keep your kingdom for my future children to play with. Do you understand?” Lothas said with a low and ominous sort of roar. “Or better yet, I’ll let the Sánge Prima do it. If she is who you say she is, then that will mean she will have single-handedly bested a royal family, and she will have your kingdom for her future children to play with!”

  “You’ve been charged by Derrik himself to bring that whore down!” Knar blustered furiously. “And I refuse to sit at table dining with my son’s killer!”

  “Yes, you will,” Lothas gritted out. “The Yesu are a mighty tribe, but we’re spread far and wide and cannot afford to make an enemy as powerfully determined and notorious for their vengeance as the Sánge. You look me in the eye and tell me you don’t think Prime Reule wouldn’t slaughter an entire world full of Yesu to protect what is very obviously his.” Lothas took a deep, steadying breath. “Now you will sit at this table and be civil and you’ll let me do my job. As you said, Derrik has charged me with putting an end to this matter, and I’ll find a way to do that. A way that won’t get us all slaughtered in our sleep.”

  Lothas was finishing his lecture just as Reule and Mystique were announced by Drago once again. The bodyguards and other attendants filed in behind the couple who were, Lothas had to admit, looking even more grand than before. The Prima was dressed in an off-the-shoulder gown made of a beautiful silver-white fur, the craftsmanship worthy of her queenly bearing. She wore a silver pendant around her throat set with a ruby, an etching of the city crest lying on its front facet. She was gloved again, but this time with simple white silk to midforearm. Her husband was dressed completely in state, an honor to his guests that wasn’t unappreciated by most of them, the resplendent red and black a striking counterpoint to the simple pale prettiness of his mate. Another young couple entered shortly after, and the small group settled in their seats after a round of greetings and introductions.

  The underlying tension could have been cut with the dagger at the Prime’s waist. Still, everyone remained either polite or quiet through the first course of the meal, a hot, hearty soup the mountain clansmen enjoyed greatly. Knar, of course, stubbornly refused to eat a morsel. He did remain quiet, however, though he shot evil glares of hatred at Mystique. Not the wisest thing to do at a table full of empaths who honored her as a friend. But the Sánge tolerated his rudeness as long as he remained firmly in his seat.

  Lothas turned his attent
ion to the Prima when she delicately cleared her throat just as they were beginning their main dishes.

  “Commander Lothas, did His Majesty happen to mention to you that his pig-mannered son attempted to rape me before I killed him defending myself?”

  She took the entire table by surprise, causing a ruckus of shocked coughs and chokes as food was sucked down the wrong pipes. Even her husband turned his head to cough, but Lothas had a suspicion it was more about covering an inappropriate chuckle than anything else. Knar was apoplectic. So much so he was turning purple and couldn’t regain wit enough to even roar.

  Mystique gave him a kindly, patient sort of smile and Lothas found himself resisting the urge to laugh himself. She had some serious backbone. She was nothing like what he’d expected. He’d thought to catch up to a corpse or a vicious little animal woman and cold-blooded killer bent on survival at all costs.

  He was partly right. She was bent on her own survival. She had to be to survive the journey out of the mountains alone after three days of torture, not to mention running unarmed and unarmored over the deadly wilderness. And she had a vicious streak in her, otherwise she couldn’t taunt the father of her victim so cavalierly. But in the grand scheme of things, it was a small streak. Otherwise she was wholesome and bright, charming and clever, and shrewdly confident. She held home court advantage, of course, but she hadn’t made these allies with tricks and lies. They were ’pathic and principled, and they would never harbor a fugitive without feeling justification in the truth of a matter.

  And if what she had said was the truth, then there was indeed justification.

  “Liar! Lying bitch!”

  Knar lost all control, the entire table crashing with the impact as he threw himself over it in a bid for the Prima’s delicate little neck. Out of nowhere a streak of golden hair flew to meet the tackle and the drawn blade Knar had managed to sneak into the room. Food, drink, and pewter tableware went flying as everyone lurched back and away from the violence and mess. When the spray of wine and food settled, Darcio had the upper hand over the screaming giant. He had one hand clenched around Knar’s throat, the other wrapped around the hilt of a knife that was run clean through Knar’s left shoulder, pinning him down to the wooden table. Darcio was driving a knee into one thigh and grinding a second knee into the man’s groin. Knar was convulsing in pain, unable to move and unable to stop squealing in agony so long as the Prime Shadow held him in purposeful perpetual pain.

  Calmly, as though he weren’t struggling with a man nearly twice his bulk, Shadow lifted his gaze to Reule’s. “My Prime?”

  Standing order for any Shadow was that anyone who threatened harm to the Prime or Prima of a Sánge tribe was subject to instant death at the hand of the Prime Shadow protecting that royal. Darcio, by all rights, shouldn’t even be bothering with asking Reule for permission he already had. But this was a special circumstance. Reule glanced at Mystique, who was safely drawn back from the melee behind the solid protection of Chayne’s body. The Shadows had worked in perfect concert, and Reule was quite proud of the display.

  Reule made no nod to Shadow. Instead, he lifted a single brow of query and looked toward Second Commander Lothas. “You have your answers,” he said dismissively. “She admits to being the woman you seek, and she admits to the crime of murdering a prince,” he said, sending a pointed look toward Knar. “Among your people, is an attempt to murder or rape ignored and forgiven just because the criminal is royalty? Should my Shadow have stepped aside and allowed this Middle King to violate my wife by virtue of his birthright?”

  The unspoken point was clear. Reule could let Knar go, let him do his worst in the name of retribution. But that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be wide, resounding repercussions for that pardon based on royalty. The Yesu would have a war. Reule would kill Knar anyway for hurting his beloved bride, and people would suffer for years in repercussion.

  The point was, the Yesu needed to decide how much honor they were willing to trade away for the sake of a small, rage-filled man who had raised a selfish, immoral boy. A son who had cost a girl her conscience, memory, and past life.

  Everyone stood in the room waiting, watching Lothas as his eyes moved over Knar and then returned to Reule. Then he looked at Mystique and frowned.

  “So was that the way of it?” he asked.

  “Harrell and two attendants caught me alone, ripped my clothes away, and brutalized my body. I fought back. Too well, apparently,” she added with sharp regret. “Without a trial I was accused and convicted and tortured. I escaped before he could throw me to his army as promised.” She swallowed hard, but didn’t look away even though several of the other men in the room lowered their eyes in shame of their sex. “Reule found me within a couple of weeks, I think. I’m not clear on how long it was exactly. He found me, fed me…gave me a home and a name and began to love me. The rest is as you see it.” She spread out a hand to indicate them all. “I have no witnesses to offer you, except my…” She smiled a secretive little smile. “My husband has lived the memory with me. If you wish to bring forth a Yesu telepath…”

  “No. That is unnecessary. I think you have survived enough humiliation for a single lifetime. Prime Reule, you may dispose of him as you see fit,” Lothas said with finality.

  Knar squawked out a protest as Darcio eagerly awaited Reule’s choice. Reule reached out to pick up Mystique’s hand, kissed its back as he drew her to the warmth of his body.

  “Come, let’s go to the Pack’s dining hall and see if we can’t repair our supper.” He encompassed the room with his eyes at the invitation. Then, finally, he looked to Darcio. “Join us afterward,” he invited him softly.

  Reule led the others out of the guest hall, and Drago shut the doors on Knar and Darcio.

  One Month Later…

  “So, how was he today?”

  “Better,” Mystique said with a smile. “Rye is a complex man. Something I didn’t give him enough credit for in the beginning, I believe. His charm blinds women to his depths. His way of keeping them, and others, at a proper distance.”

  “Reule has been spending a lot of time with him,” Liandra pointed out as she emptied a freshly made salve into its proper jar. She had proven herself to have a knack for concocting medicines, and she liked passing her time doing it with her Prima as they chatted and discussed the happenings around Jeth.

  “I know. It was a very hard thing for Reule to understand how Rye’s love and loyalty for him could be corrupted into a reason for hurting me. I think they have both learned a great deal about themselves and about each other. Rye will never love me the way he does Reule, and I don’t expect it. We have come to like each other again now that Rye has begun to deal with his guilt over Amando’s death. My husband worries still, but…”

  “But he always worries. At least where you are concerned.”

  “Rye won’t hurt me,” she insisted. “He’s well beyond that. In fact, he’s ashamed of his behavior. He’s too hard on himself. He feels bad when he still feels anger toward me, but it’s natural for it to linger during healing. It was the irrationality and the impulse-control problems that made him dangerous to me, and most of that was cured with my naturopathy.”

  “It must be hard for him, not being able to trust himself and knowing Reule doesn’t trust him.”

  “It is. But it will all return with time and patience. I have faith in him. Reule does as well. Soon Rye will find it in himself. Mercy, what are you making? It smells vile.”

  “It’s burn salve,” Liandra said with surprise. “And it smells like sweet beggar’s root. I love that smell.” Lia sniffed the jar deeply.

  “Ugh. I hope you paid attention to your ratios. It seems off to me.”

  “You’re off,” Lia tsked with disgruntled pique. “My salve is fine.”

  “Ladies.”

  Lia and Mystique looked up at the door to see Reule lounging against the frame. His big shoulders blocked out the light from the infirmary, his figure limned in sunshine.
Mystique was in his arms instantly, and he was deep in her mouth an instant after that. He drew in her flavor with deep satisfaction until he had no choice but to let her go or drag her somewhere private. Come to think of it, he mused, he was growing rather fond of the dark alcove under the first-level stairs.

  Mystique wrenched herself away, shoving playfully at his chest even though it was rather like a pesky fly trying to move an elephant. “Stop that,” she scolded as she drew her fingers over her kiss-dampened lips and flushed prettily. Since she had gone through the Pack ceremony, connecting herself to all of the men as their Prima, she had become much, much more sensitive to their presence and awareness. Her Intuition had almost become premonition, just about as good as reading minds. Even Reule couldn’t hide from her uncanny ability to know his intentions. Like wanting to visit certain alcoves…

  He chuckled. He liked to think up wild things sometimes just to fluster her. The trick was, he had to be serious about each and every one of those wild ideas, because he never knew when she would get that speculative look of invitation in her eyes.

  But he surely enjoyed finding out.

  “Lothas arrived safe and sound. He says Derrik is only a day behind him. That blizzard two days ago was perfectly timed. And you know, I never thought I would say that?” He chuckled when Lia did, nodding her head vigorously to boot.

  “I think with winter able to bring new friends to visit with new treaties and trade, and also keeping the Jakals driven into caves and shelters and the deserts, you might come to appreciate the season,” Mystique mused as she cuddled back up to her husband.

  “It’d be a miracle, but it may have its merits after all,” Reule said with a disbelieving shake of his head. “As for you, Liandra,” he said, shifting to a serious intonation, “you become Pack come the end of the month. Are you prepared?”

  “As prepared as one woman possibly can be.” She plopped down her salve and leaned eagerly forward. “Did you know that Delano is teaching me to defend myself? Mystique gave me some of her boy’s clothes and it’s so liberating I could sing! Darcio caught me riding astride the other day and nearly popped a blood vessel. One would think he’d be used to it, since his Prima does it often enough, but no…he starts sputtering and growling at me like I committed a crime.”