The morning Khamuel was set to relieve Lena from her convalescent bed, he awoke in a fine mood. Not only was he eager to be with Lena again, he also looked forward to witnessing her reactions to Charity. There were many things he wished to show her and share with her. Khamuel wanted to ensure that Lena did not regret her decision to remain aboard. He wanted her content.
The moment Charity alerted him to a visitor at his office door, something heavy took up residence in his chest. Hearing the news Avem imparted to him caused his inner light to flame around him.
Khamuel stared at Avem. His heart pounded in his chest. A part of himself refused to believe her words. It could not be true. It simply couldn't. Yet even as his ears buzzed and his mind raced, he had to acknowledge that her words made a sickening sense.
"You are certain?" he asked.
"Quite."
"Her father is not Sariel, but Kasdeja?"
With the barest of nods, Avem confirmed, "Sariel is her grandsire. Yet, she is a spawn of Kasdeja."
A swirling mix of anger and disgust roiled through him. "Kasdeja!" He paced as he fought to control his ire. "She did not admit this freely?"
Avem shifted her stance. "She has not spoken of her life on Earth other than she was a warrior."
In his anger, Khamuel almost lost control of his light. Even the sound of the horrid name was enough to fill him with burning hate. A snarl lifted his lip. "Tell no one. I will not have a mass panic demanding public execution."
"Aye, Kravan'n." Avem hovered a moment longer.
Khamuel cut his gaze to her. "What is it?"
"The an'thee. Have you any ill effects?"
"Other than a spawn being the cause of it? Nay."
Avem took a step towards him and laced her fingers through his. "I can find another ship for her. She needn't stay aboard, Charity. You are too good for her."
Khamuel squeezed Avem's hand gently. "Your faith in me has always lent me strength, Avem. I thank you for it. Yet, she is in my keeping for a reason. She will go nowhere."
"You care for her then?"
"I do not know her." Khamuel placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Go to your work."
Once alone, Khamuel paced the interior of his offices. A daughter of Kasdeja aboard Charity? How could this be? What did any of this mean? What was his role? Question after question jumbled his mind as he fought to understand this dastardly twist of fate.
Why did he not question her upon her awakening? Disgust warred with his knowledge that she belonged to him.
Khamuel understood well enough that the trauma forced upon the progeny of Kasdeja was no fault of their own. Yet, the spawn were so completely, so mercilessly used there was no hope for them. Born with blackened blood and forcibly bred to blackened hearts, the spawn of the wicked earned their titles with feverish delight. No matter where they went, no matter who they met, loss and tragedy followed.
The spawn were so subdued of their own conscience, their dedication to Kasdeja became fanatical. It was how they survived under such cruel dominion. That a spawn lay in a ministry bed of his beloved Charity revolted him. She revolted him. May the Eternal One guard her well.
He walked over to the porthole and stared out into the vastness of space to send his bitter thoughts into the very fabric of the universe. An'thee, he sneered. For her?
And he had done the unthinkable, taking the spawn in his arms publicly that day in the control room. Khamuel never allowed himself public displays of affection, yet it was plain Lena needed comfort and she wanted it from him. He was glad to provide it. Would have been glad to provide her with nearly anything she wished. It was the least he could do for all she suffered at his hand. The longer he held her, the more her thoughts settled, and the tension eased from her. Her heart slowed to a normal rhythm and thumped inside of him. Lena's moment of anxiety passed, and her inner strength returned to her. Her peace of mind and the relaxed, vibrational humming of her body lulled him, making his stiff hug become more natural.
He had believed she neither knew nor understood the implications of him being able to feel her heartbeat inside of his chest, or that she called out to him in such a manner. Nay, she had not been offering her heart. She was simply so at ease with him she felt no need to protect it from him. It marked the third time in his existence that he felt another heart beat in time to his. The first was his modir. Even Fiadn, his closest friend and confidant, did not gift him so.
He fought down his rage. Was it a ploy? Did she hope to allay him?
She could not. He would do as he must. Keep her close. Lull her into believing herself safe. Keep vigilant. Above all else, Khamuel's people would not fall prey to her avarice. He would not allow her evil to taint these walls if he had to send her to the grave himself. She, Lena, daughter of Kasdeja, spawn of the wicked, would never do her evil works here.
Khamuel walked with his head lowered as he left his office.
He heard footsteps behind him, and a warning tingled up his spine. No one traversed these halls without his permission. Khamuel spun quickly, prepared for a fight. His feelings of injustice and betrayal making him more paranoid than usual. He stayed his hand the moment he recognized the woman.
Kiara looked up at him with infatuated eyes. In her hand was her medical bag, and in the other vials filled with blood. She had apparently just come from visiting a patient that needed her attention. Khamuel tried to draw in a calming breath. That was a mistake. Her pheromone-packed scent filled his nostrils, and suddenly his body raged with carnal need. Though his mind knew that the lust he felt for her was nothing more than a chemical reaction to her intense hormones, and not the woman herself, he could not stop his body from hardening. By the Eternal One, what jest was this?
***
"You couldn't have gotten me some jeans and a t-shirt?" Lena asked later that evening, glaring at the red and black scarves. She refused at first to even wear them when Avem and Kiara attempted to twist and wrap the scarves in ways that would reveal her body, as Ka'al women did. Instead, she wrapped the scarves in a way that covered nearly her entire body, leaving only her arms bare. The material twisted and folded up along the upper body, artfully showing off her curves and wrapped around the shoulders. Golden chain links worked to fasten the garment together with tiny clips. The links hung over her chest decoratively, but worked functionally in securing the garment against exposing her cleavage.
They adorned her arms in golden bands with a similar quality to leather, spaced a few inches apart. Each of her fingers also sported thin golden bands, and a wider band circled the smallest part of her waist. The other two scarves of black and red, covered her lower body as a kind of loincloth, with the extra fabric draping coyly covering her front and back sides down to the ankles. With the slightest movements, her legs would become exposed, showing more golden bands from thigh to ankle. She didn't mind showing a little leg. Ka'al did not wear shoes unless working, so they did not provide any.
Avem activated a holograph. Lena squeaked when a perfect image of herself stood face to face with her. Once the shock wore off, her eyes widened. The holograph mimicked her movements and facial expressions exactly. Alien mirrors. She chuckled, moving this way and that, fascinated at her doppelgänger mimicking each of her movements.
The image she presented was sophisticated, feminine sexuality. The clothing made her feel sexy, she had to admit that, but she looked - she tilted her head, the holograph doing the same - she kind of looked like she was dressed for a night of seduction. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. "Do all the women dress like this?"
Avem pursed her lips. "Aye, Ka'al women are comfortable with their bodies, and often bare their breasts for special occasions. Even some of the other species mimic our dress. It is an honor. I am sure Kravan'n's sister will teach you new ways to tie your scarves as you prefer more modesty."
Still staring at her holograph, Lena asked, "I've noticed the men only walk around in basic cloth wrapped around their waists. Why bother with scarves if you're just going to show everything?"
Avem shrugged, not meeting Lena's questioning gaze. "We must cover our asses. No one wishes to sit upon another's ass sweat."
"Ew!" exclaimed Kiara. Both she and Lena burst into laughter.
"So gross!" Lena chuckled, wrinkling her nose, even as she let a hand travel down her arm. "So many gold bands!"
"They are thermal adjusters." Avem answered, turning her back. "Decorative aye, but fully functional. Even as we speak, they are noting your baseline temperature and vital signs. No matter which climate you visit, they will adjust and you will find comfort. Should your health be compromised, they will send a distress signal to Charity's main computer to send assistance."
Khamuel entered the small convalescent room much later than expected. He'd been due that morning, but now it was the time of "night" where the Ka'al began searching for their beds. Avem and Kiara practically jumped to their feet, prodding Lena to stand with them. It was a silly custom, but this wasn't her society, not yet. She had to play by their rules.
Lena turned to face the pearlescent man in the doorway. She was used to his usual soft glow, but something about the way his inner light flickered now enraptured her. Lena had never considered the color pink could be intimidating until now. The way Khamuel's light surrounded him, and played off the contours of his body, gave him a dangerous air that made her stomach dip low in her belly.
His platinum hair, with the surprising shock of silver highlights, fell in silky waves around his face down past his shoulders. His clear blue eyes shone with intelligence as they traveled over her slowly. She felt goosebumps form over her skin. His long nose flared slightly when he saw her, and his full lips pressed together.
She wondered what he was thinking as his eyes worked over her. Until now, Lena always felt his moods. Except, she frowned, he hadn't spoken to her at all today. Hadn't projected into her mind or sent any friendly psychic bumps to let her know he was thinking of her. She couldn't read anything from him. His barely perceptible reaction to her could mean anything. Did she look ridiculous? She felt ridiculous just then.
The hard look in his eye was totally unexpected after all the patience and kindness he showed her. His voice when he sent it into her mind was harsh, and the hostility it projected into her caused her stomach to roil. So, you have decided to join the living?
Not expecting to feel attacked, Lena's back stiffened. Yeesh! Someone was in a mood.
I want to see my babies.
Khamuel looked at her for a moment before he reluctantly held his hand out to her. She may have been nonplussed by his tone, but Lena didn't hesitate. Even with his surly attitude right now, she trusted him. She placed her hand in his.
Avem's sharp gasp briefly drew Lena's attention, but Khamuel spoke, drawing her gaze back to him. "My colors suit you." The tips of his fingers touched one of the golden chains on her shoulder, the slide of his fingers causing a tingle to spread through her. "What is your full name?"
She gave a small smile. "Elena Inanna Nigba."
"Lovely," he said approvingly. "Deceivingly soft. Feminine. Yet there is strength in you. A coldness that touches your eyes betimes. Darkness."
How did he know? He couldn't have seen through her. No one ever did. Lena was a master at disguising her true self. Khamuel couldn't see the darkness inside of her. Could he? One finger trailed nervously over the familiar scar on her neck. Maybe he could. Lena lowered her eyes.
"Do you accept me, Elena Inanna Nigba?"
Alien etiquette? She wasn't sure if he was asking whether she accepted him as her escort, or accepted his protection in some old-school fashion, but she didn't doubt her answer in either case. "By now it should be clear I have accepted everything about you and this place."
"Do you accept me, Farran?" he asked again, sternly.
Lena frowned at his curt tone and answered softly, "Yes, of course I do."
Avem's eyes darted between the two, a small wrinkle creasing her brow. "You must say the words. Say clearly you accept him."
A small flicker of confusion played over Lena's features. "Yes, I accept you."
Khamuel took her other hand in his, bringing them to his chest, the way Mord had just a few days ago. The warmth of his fingers caressing the back of her hands sent tingles up her arms. His intense eyes turned a dark blue while meeting her unsure ones, and he drew her close to him. "I accept you, Lena."
Something about his tone gave her pause. She tried to back away from him, but he held her still. When she settled, he spoke some words in Ka'al. Placing his hands on her chest, he continued speaking. Finally, he released her, and the room fell into silence.
Lena cleared her throat and tried to diffuse the odd tension she felt coming from him. She smiled brightly. "Since I'm about to join your society, I figure it's time I stop calling you by your given name and start referring to you by your title. No one else calls you Khamuel. I suppose I shouldn't either, huh, Kraven?" she said, attempting to pronounce his title with a soft, though forced, light-hearted tone.
Avem's expression frosted over.
Kiara shifted her weight.
Lena turned, looking curiously at the two women, but this seemed to irk Khamuel and he spoke, deliberately drawing her attention back to him.
"Aye," he confirmed. "From this moment forward you will regard me, and address me as Kraven." From his chest pocket, he removed a heavy golden medallion the size of his palm. Khamuel took her hands in his with her palms facing upward, brushing his thumb over the callouses she sported there. "This will hurt."
She met his eyes. There was no cruelty in them, only truth. Later, Lena wouldn't be able to explain to herself why. Maybe it was curiosity at this alien custom, but she held her hand still for him. He laid the flat, chalice shaped medallion in her palm, adjusting it just so, and pressed her palms together, enclosing the medallion within them. Then he cupped his hands over hers, keeping them steady.
"Do not move," he instructed. There was a small metallic click. The sting of a hundred needles pricked her all at once, making her palms sting as if she were being attacked by fire ants.
She flinched, then held still. In quiet tones, Khamuel began speaking in Ka'al. Light emanated from between their clasped hands. Lena jerked in surprise when his light spread from their hands, up her arms, and through the rest of her body. Fear and pain fought for dominance. Lena had to remind herself that she trusted Khamuel.
The medallion heated, becoming so hot it blistered her hands. A shuddered gasp escaped her, but she fought every instinct to pull away from the pain. Before she could be overwhelmed and cry out, she forced her shoulders to relax and closed her eyes against what was happening.
Taking a deep breath, Lena cleared her mind in the way she learned as a child trying to survive. She forced her body to accept the pain, drawing it in, making it part of herself, consuming it, owning it, overcoming it. A mewl of pain escaped her right before she reached her quiet place and peace settled over her. Khamuel's voice came from a distance, muffled to her ears, until it faded away. The moment she opened her eyes, the pain came rushing back.
Khamuel removed the medallion from her throbbing hands and attached it to a golden chain to secure it to the material of her upper scarf. He lifted the medallion he wore around his neck that was a replica of the one he adorned her with, and showed it to her. "Proof of my vow of protection."
Lena looked down at her red, blistered palms that oozed with a mixture of clear liquid and blood. The pain! Oh my God, the pain. She took a steadying breath, schooled her features, then looked up at Khamuel. He was watching her, gauging her reaction. Lena wasn't sure what he saw in her expression, but he finally lowered his eyes and took her hands once again in his. He used his tongue to lave at the blisters, accepting her blood and easing the burn. "My blood to yours. Your blood to mine."
The angry marks healed instantly, revealing the patterns the medallion left on her palms.
Khamuel eyed her with grudging respect. His tone, however, was sarcastic. "It is well done that you were trained to receive pain."
Lena wanted to ask what his problem was, but she felt … odd. The atmosphere between them changed; thickened. Khamuel and Lena closed their eyes under the weight of the energy that throbbed around them. Each took a step toward the other, until their bodies kissed. Their hands interlaced of their own accord. Khamuel fought to keep his hold painless, knowing even through the deepening fog in his mind that he could hurt her easily.
His light consumed them both, drawing them impossibly closer together.
It forced Kiara and Avem to shield their eyes.
Khamuel pulled Lena closer to keep her steady despite his own struggle to remain upright. It was Lena's mew of fear that brought Khamuel back from the brink. To fight against his own light was no easy feat, yet he would control it for her sake. He commanded his light to calm, to ease more gently into her, until she was so full of his claim, she could take no more, then he pulled it back into himself, accepting the way her essence now filled his light.
Khamuel felt the rightness of her settle into his being; into his heart and mind. He swallowed, finding it difficult to speak as the energy between them settled into something new and exciting and dangerous.
With one arm around Lena's waist to both keep her steady and pressed against him, he lifted his other to wipe the mist of sweat on her brow. Lena shivered at his touch and pressed more completely against him.
Each wanted to prolong the feel of the other's body against theirs. The light eventually faded completely. Lena felt Khamuel's resolution. Khamuel felt Lena's confusion. Each was determined to keep their own counsel as they fought through the mire of their amped up emotions.
Khamuel slowly loosened his hold, ensuring Lena had her balance before he released her.
"This mark is my mark." Khamuel held his hands up to her to show her his branded palms. "I branded you as is custom."
Lena had questions, so many questions. There was no opportunity to ask. A sudden electrical current ran through her body seizing her in place. She couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't even breathe. Her mind swam with dizziness and for a moment her balance waivered. Breath rushed into her lungs causing her to gasp.
Khamuel placed his hands at her waist, steadying her. Those soft tones he used during the odd ceremony were gone, causing his voice to harden. "Your daughters are in the nursery. We should not keep them waiting."
Lena nodded dazedly, grateful for the way he supported her and held her against him.
"Come," he said, slowly releasing her, watching for signs of weakness.
She paused and took stock of her surroundings. The fog that attacked her mind thickened. Lena's normally alert and observant gaze would have noticed, but with the lethargy thrumming through her, she never registered the wide-eyed facial expression of Avem or the slight pallor of Kiara's enchanting skin as Khamuel escorted her away.
She followed Khamuel in a quiet daze for long moments, letting him guide her through the passageways. Eventually, her surroundings penetrated the fog, and her mind cleared.
"Will you explain what just happened?" They were in a maze of hallways with doors appearing here and there with alien markings … uh … glyphs? Yes, they were definitely glyphs, above each doorway.
Khamuel stopped walking and turned so that he could tilt her face up to his. He wanted to see her expressions. If there were truly any avarice within her, in time her facade would fade and she would give herself away. "It was bonding. You are now part of my clan. My family."
The woman's confusion was clearly written on her face. With all that he was, Khamuel wished to believe her innocent countenance genuine.
"Is bonding a person into one of your clans always that intense?" she asked.
Khamuel scratched his beard, trying to see through her. "Lady, I ... you …" It had been so long since being rendered speechless that Khamuel was at a loss with himself. Her clear green eyes looked into his with such openness, he felt a wave of doubt wash through him. Could she truly be all she appeared? His light threatened to flicker, so he pulled it deep within himself, banking the glow lest he hurt her with his heat. Khamuel turned away from her with a snarl. "I will have you tutored in our ways. I grow weary of your bantam-like curiosity."
Stung by his words, Lena didn't have a chance to retort as she was jerked forward when he began walking again.
To fill the silence, he asked, "What was your profession on Earth?"
"I was a soldier. My MOS ... um ... job was to fly helicopters."
Of course, he remembered with animosity. The daughter of Kasdeja would be a warrior. A death dealer. Before his resentment got the better of him, Khamuel resigned himself to remain impartial and so focused on her words. He understood "pilot" and "flew" yet held no knowledge of what this "helicopter" thing was.
Though he kept his stoic façade, Lena could feel his tension. Deciding to change the topic, she asked, "Is your society a feudal one? Are you a republic? Do women have rights?"
"We are monarchy, and our women wield much power aboard Charity."
"That's not saying much. Great Britain is a monarchy, but they still have a prime minister."
He vaguely remembered a land named Britain, yet did not understand what a prime healer had to do with governance. "Our monarchy is absolute. The emperor rules."
"There's a real king on this ship?" She looked up at him and grinned engagingly. "You left that juicy little tidbit out during my last history lesson."
He grunted. "We call this vessel Charity. Address her thusly if you please."
Lena was half tempted to tell him what he could do with his crappy attitude, but held her tongue. His sudden change in temperament made her nervous. This was nothing like the other times she'd annoyed him. There was something sinister floating around him, and that he deliberately banked his glow didn't sit well with her. "Are you the captain of Charity, then? I thought you were captain of the forager. I guess, I still don't have a firm grasp of what you do here."
"Charity has six captains," he said in a non-committal tone.
Tamping down her annoyance, Lena reminded herself of all the patience and kindness he showed her as she was healing. The guy was having a bad day. Everyone had bad days. He deserved for her to be just as patient and kind as he had been.
"I'm sorry, you're in a bad mood. I'll stop talking now. I don't want to be a bother."
Khamuel snorted. "I nearly kill you, I destroy your property, I abduct you, your bantlings and force you to leave behind everything you have ever known, and your concern is to not be a bother?" He admired her ability to portray such guilelessness. If only she were as she appeared to be!
"Leaving Earth isn't really that difficult. I didn't have much there that's worth missing except my career." Her voice softened, and he was sure he could hear genuine sadness lace her words. "I mean, I have a cousin I barely know. She seems nice, but I'm just a stranger to her. The twins' father died ... I guess it would be a month ago by now? He was really the only family I could have claimed. If he were alive, I would want to go back. It wouldn't be right to keep the girls away from their dad, but with him gone, I have no one. Not really. And who knows? Maybe ending up on Charity is exactly what I need. I can finally-"
Lena cut herself off. She wanted him to see her as she was now. Not what she had been then.
Khamuel allowed the silence that followed as he thought about her words, noting she referred to the bantlings' father as neither "my mate" nor "my lover." It was as if she separated herself from the man. He wanted to press for more, to ask what she could "finally" do, but decided it was unnecessary. Whatever her claims now, he would learn the truth in its own time.
Khamuel waved his hand in front of the small screen box, which sat outside every door. The screen flashed red, then yellow, and the large door slid silently into the wall. The room was large and seemed like one big play area. Toys were strewn about, murals of animals and trees and beings she had never seen before decorated the large room. Planets and moons were painted on the ceiling. The large room held what could only be an interstellar version of monkey bars. A hologram played off in the corner, some sort of children's show, and Lena laughed to herself. High-definition TV certainly took on a new meaning. That was where she found her girls. The only two children to occupy the room at this time of night. Her chest squeezed.
"Girls," she called, her voice thick with emotion.
Sasha looked back distractedly, turned back to her show, then screeched with excitement when the realization struck her. "Mama!"
Leila turned around wide-eyed, and both girls careened into Lena.
"I missed you, Mama," Sasha said.
"Can I have some juice?" Leila asked.
Lena hugged her girls close, breathing in their light baby scent, and laughed at the request. Leila was nothing if not preoccupied with her tummy.
Lena hesitated as she looked up at Khamuel, and the truth settled inside of her. She was completely at the mercy of strangers.