Clans of Luteri Ch. 10-11

He clearly remembered the smell between her legs, could call it up at will, that delicious smell that had finally drawn him to her. The taste of her essence, her liquid scent, so much more powerful and complex to him now, the smallest bit bursting on his tongue and into all his senses, filling his mind.

His excitement at recognizing his female, her offering of her tiny sex to him, licking that source. Desire tensed his belly remembering her little pulses of pleasure on his tongue as more dripped from her.

Then the strangeness of his half-form, nothing he had done before, so painful but Shai, her soft flesh under his claws, soft and warm, so soft, he would never harm her, never, pushing into the exquisite center of her, her flesh, her pink flesh taking him, warm, yielding, and then rutting on her. Shai, the pleasure, biting her—. Kane clamped down on his lust, releasing his breath slowly. He could not get through five minutes without thinking about her that way.

A Luterian bonding was rare, maybe only once or twice a generation in Luteri, the ritual very dangerous to the woman. He would not have asked it of Aslin, would never have put her in danger like that, wouldn't have trusted his other form with her. But he hadn't been able to stop it, hadn't been able to even want to stop it.

But he also believed he would never have harmed her, believed no part of him would, and it had happened and he couldn't change that. And Shaol was alive and well, if a little skittish of him still. Kane had been relieved, very relieved, to learn the horse had returned to Jaime's estate. Jaime said Shaol had been panicked and had run into his stall and stood against the wall, shaking, as the servants rushed to close the stall door. Kane had no memory of the horse in his other form, but he had still been relieved to see him.

He wanted to take Aslin to Luteri now, to get her away from these people. He knew his feelings were stronger than they should be for the situation but he felt them anyway.

He caught her scent before she even came down the stairs, strengthening, and he looked up just before she appeared in the doorway, Jaime behind her. She was emitting a perfume right now that was very clear, very specific, his heart thudding, responding without his willing it. Luterian males would have sensed it and reacted instinctively, moving away from her, from Kane, prudently vacating the area. But Alverian men couldn't sense it, or they didn't know they did.

The constabulary looked and his eyes widened, taking her in. Her beauty. His nostrils flared. Yes, they sensed it. They knew it in their bodies. They just didn't know it in their minds. Kane breathed through the hot rage, keeping his muscles relaxed. The man's eyes went to the still-healing wound between her neck and shoulder, a semi-circle of teeth marks like a rough displaced necklace, mirrored behind her. Pity flashing briefly across his face.

They viewed it as a flaw, but she would wear it proudly when they were in Luteri. She was Tavishi and Corsaire, his saliva in her blood causing the fever until she adjusted. Any child born to them would be a blessing from Shai, bond-born, would have Shai's gift if it were a boy. That mark would bind the clans themselves, an indication of Shai's blessing on the peace, and she was more beautiful than she'd ever been.

And they thought she'd be shamed by it. Kane clenched his teeth and Aslin looked at him, tensing. The bond was so new. He was not helping her. They needed time alone. He forced himself to relax, trying to reassure her.

"You are Lady Tavishi," the constabulary said.

She stood, her hands folded in front of her, perfect posture, her eyes a little absent. He felt her effort to concentrate on what he said.

"Yes."

"I am sure this has all been quite upsetting, Lady Tavishi. Can you tell me what happened three nights ago?"

She looked at Kane and then back at the man. She swallowed. Her throat was still sore, her voice hoarse and cracking

"I was riding. I was careless and I was thrown. I must have hit my head. When I woke it was night and there was an animal. I didn't see it. I was terrified. I fainted and when I woke I was here."

The constabulary spread his stance, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes narrowing on her.

"You do not remember anything else?"

Memories stirred in her eyes, the bond between them giving him a flash of complex feelings, the primary one being a deep sense of surrender to pain and overwhelming pleasure that went through his body.

He wondered briefly if they should talk about it. She hadn't seemed to want to, still in shock. She was not fully here, as he wasn't. He didn't think she was ready. Her confusion would be worse than his, he knew. The bond was strange even to him, and he had already known about it, knew what it was.

"No, I do not," she said.

"You are Luterian, Lady Tavishi?"

"Yes."

"Do you know a Lord Montrose?"

"I know that he is a neighbor of Lord Shetlan's," she said. "But I have not met him."

Her hands were in her skirts now. To hide their shaking at the lie, he knew. She was bearing down, trying to stay here, now.

"He was killed on his estate the morning after you were attacked, very early, with several other men he was entertaining."

"Yes. Lord Shetlan informed me of this," she said faintly. "I don't...I regret that I am unable to remember anything—."

She stopped, beginning to breathe faster. He felt her fear through her distraction. The rage coursed through him again. She didn't think this man was here to protect her at all. She didn't trust him. And this was the authority Alverian women were supposed to rely upon. Kane held out his hand. She came to him without looking at it or him, taking it. The constabulary watched.

"My wife is not a bear or a pack of large wolves, Constabulary," Kane said shortly. "She has said she doesn't remember anything more."

The man turned his eyes to Kane.

"We spoke earlier with a Lord Verain who said that he met you some time ago, Lord Tavishi, at the concert hall with your wife, but that he had not seen her before, that nobody had been told she was even here in Alveria."

"Lady Tavishi did not join us when Lord Verain came to dinner."

"Where was she?"

"Here, at Lord Shetlan's estate, in our rooms."

"Lord Verain said that you did not mention being married at this dinner."

"I am not in the habit of discussing my wife with foreigners," Kane said coldly.

He sometimes resorted to this in Alveria. These people treated Luterians as barbarians. They would believe anything he told them that supported that view and attribute any strange behavior to it.

Jaime had been standing in the doorway, watching. He stepped forward.

"Luterian customs are different, Jona," Jaime said to the constabulary. "Lord Tavishi would not be comfortable introducing his wife to people he doesn't know. Luterians are very protective. He has agreed to make an exception in this case in order to help to shed light on this matter."

Jaime was mixing truth with lies at this point, backing him up. Yes, Luterians males were protective, but they did not keep their women in small cages like that. If a male wasn't willing to protect a woman where she was, how she was, free in the world, he didn't deserve her.

Females like Aslin were just more work in that regard. He turned to look at her. And worth it. She glanced at him, feeling his interest. His eyes went to his mark, desire suddenly there, washing through him. Very worth it. She felt it, her own arousal answering, flushing. He couldn't act on his desire yet. She needed time to heal from the ritual. He would know when she was ready for him again.

"I am obliged to ask these questions, Lord Shetlan—," the constabulary began, his eyes on her face.

"I know that you are, which is why I requested it of him. I'm sure Lord Verain also recalls that he did not ask Lord Tavishi if he were married. I was there, and I do not recall that being a topic of conversation. Lord Tavishi is my very good friend who hosted me during my stay in Luteri. I am distressed Lady Tavishi was subject to such an ordeal during their stay. She was fevered and very ill. If you could conclude this interview, I'm sure she would like to rest."

Kane glanced at the constabulary's face, seeing brief frustration. The constabulary bowed to Jaime, and then to them.

"Of course, Lord Shetlan. My apologies, Lord Tavishi, I did not mean to distress the lady. Will you be available for further questioning, if necessary?"

"We are leaving for Luteri in a week," Kane answered.

#

Aslin stopped with Kane at the top of the gangway. She was so distracted still, a sense of disorientation. They needed to be alone, the urgency becoming worse every day they were with others, every day she had to do things or move around in the world. Sounds were painful, sensations. Kane had said they required time to learn to manage the bond, that it would feel more natural when they had adjusted.

That was all he had said about it, and she hadn't asked anything else.

Mostly she was untethered, drifting. He was supposed to teach her the Luterian language, but she didn't see how she could learn anything in this state. She had such a difficult time paying attention to things around her. It was easier for her, maybe, because everyone attributed her manner to what had happened to her. She felt Kane struggling to appear normal, struggling for control.

She sensed Kane bearing down now, forcing himself into the present to say goodbye to his friend. They might not see each other again for a long time, if ever, for all they talked about it, making plans for the possibility of that day.

Jaime stepped to her and she focused, seeing his face. He hugged her lightly, his hands on her shoulders, his smell like Alveria, like meadows and rolling green hills, sweet cakes and tea. She blinked hard as he kissed both her cheeks lightly, the Alverian parting from a man to a woman.

"Thank you, Jaime," she said softly, inadequate for all that covered.

"It has been my pleasure, Aslin," he said, smiling at her, his face kind.

Jaime turned to Kane and held out his hand, his jaw clenched. Kane ignored his hand and swept the man up into a fierce hug, who froze. Kane lifted him briefly and set him down, pounding him on the back.

People turned to look. Jaime looked entirely mauled by the time Kane released him. Kane stepped back, wiping his eyes with the palms of his hands and sniffing loudly.

Jaime stared at him, appalled.

"What are you—Are you crying, Kane?" he exclaimed low, entirely dismayed.

"How are you not?" Kane demanded, still wiping his eyes. "Do Alverians not cry at partings?"

"It is...discouraged," Jaime told him, still staring.

In men, Jaime didn't add, wisely, Aslin thought. Kane gave him a disgusted look, sniffing a little. Jaime opened his mouth, looking for words as Kane accepted the small handkerchief she offered. He looked at it after and put it in his pocket.

"You Alverians are a cold lot, have I told you that?" Kane accused, wiping his whole face with his hand.

"You may have mentioned it," Jaime said, his lips twitching, his eyes suspiciously bright.

"I will miss you, you red-haired savage," Kane choked, his tears coming again.

"I cannot begin to describe to you, Kane, the personal affection, the friendship—," Jaime began, his own voice hoarse.

Kane embraced him again, cutting off the words, cutting off Jaime's breath in a long whoosh, people turning to look again, but this time Jaime returned it, and was grinning and blinking when Kane released him. Kane stepped back again.

"You are welcome in Luteri all your life," Kane said, clearing his throat. "Tavishi welcome you whenever you come. I do. Bring the little Alverian songbird who chatters so pretty once she has your oath. Tavishi will like her. She has fire, passion. You chose well."

Kane turned, sweeping her up at his side.

Jaime stayed at the area by the gangway, out of peoples' paths who boarded, and she and Kane stayed at the rail even when the gangway was withdrawn. It was not until they were underway, the ship swaying and creaking and people moving on its surface briskly, that Jaime raised his hand a final time, and she did, and Kane did, and Jaime's lonely figure dwindled into the distance with all of Alveria and was gone.

With that, Kane turned her and they went to their rooms, clean and tidy, the space economic but comfortable. She felt the distraction taking her and she let it happen, such profound relief. They were free of other people, finally alone. She began turning inward and toward him, and he toward her. They didn't speak. He undressed her and then himself and laid her on the bed.

He enclosed her in his arms behind her, entering her. She felt what he did. They fell into the mirroring, an endless cycle of pleasure, the bond flaring to life.

She moved, ate, walked on the deck, only part herself. Part him. Part of her sleeping, healing. People came and cleaned the room. She and Kane, the whole that they made, were careful, Kane worrying about his vulnerability outside of Luteria, so deep in the bond.

Over time, they spoke Luterian, although she didn't remember what they said to each other. She felt his emotions, intuiting what he said, hearing the repetitions, answered haltingly, her gradual ease giving her a sense of time passing. It wasn't difficult, more like remembering than learning once she heard enough of it.

For long hours they didn't see anything around them, his thrusts slow and deep, as they left the world behind and began to explore the internal landscape between them, the endless horizon of water beyond the small window nothing compared to the spaces within them.

#

Shipmaster Orton eyed the Luterian couple at the rail. They came out of their cabin for one hour in the morning, very early, at dawn, and one hour in the evening, at dusk, to stand silently at the rail, sometimes port, sometimes starboard. The man was a big, scary-looking Luterian barbarian, long hair to below his shoulders, with that manner Luterians had, like they'd stab you casually, traditional dress and a curved blade at his side.

The woman was dark-haired, beautiful, strikingly so, dressed, to his surprise, as an Alverian, although she had a Luterian dagger at her waist. When she'd boarded, he'd worried that his sailors, some of them rough, might say something to her, offend the Luterian man, and he'd have a bloodbath on his hands. But his sailors had latched on to a superstitious dread about her and avoided both of them. The other passengers didn't approach them either. Even the serving staff were uneasy.

"They speak a strange language to each other, Shipmaster. And she looks at you with those black eyes and it's like there's nothing in them," one boy had said to him in awe, shuddering, the tea service rattling briefly in his hands.

The shipmaster dismissed it. The language was probably Luterian. But they did have an unsettling stillness to them, standing there, exactly the same position, the same manner. The man seemed to sense his attention, turning and looking at him. Orton looked away, uneasy at the blank look in the Luterian's eyes.

And the Luterian horse in his hold that the barbarian visited daily was a giant demon, his crew told him, a vicious creature that was half-horse, half-dragon, with flames for eyes and nobody but his master would go near him.

It was a long passage, twelve weeks, many stops, reaching the Luteri harbor in late summer. But the couple never went to shore, never left the ship, rarely even left their cabin. They came to stand in one of the same two places at the same times even when the ship was in port, looking at land with the same stillness with which they stared out to sea. It began to bother him whenever he saw them there.

He'd be glad to see the back of them when they reached Minsk. Luteri was a barbarous land, all rumor said. He wouldn't know. Ships could land there, it was a busy port, a great deal of wealth flowing in and out of its waters, and the Siblin people who ran it friendly. But unless you were Luterian, going through the gate was not only against their laws. It would get you killed by one of the Luterian men who prowled just beyond it, keeping an eye on their water border.

Orten shrugged to himself. The Luterian paid well for his passage and the couple didn't seem to bother anybody. But he didn't ask them for tea in his stateroom as he did other passengers.

#

One morning Aslin turned to him as they stood at the rail, Kane's face briefly unfamiliar, as if she had looked within him for so long she had forgotten what he looked like. He turned his head and looked back at her, something stirring in his eyes. A seabird called above them and it passed, her eyes turning inward again.

She stood at a small desk. She was looking at a flaw in the wood, tracing the scrape over and over with her eyes. She had been looking at it for awhile, she realized. She was naked.

Kane came behind her, his hands going to her breasts. He brought her to the bed.

#

"Aslin," he said.

She looked up. Kane was standing over her, his eyes clear.

He leaned down and kissed her and she was suddenly alone. She drew a sharp breath, her hands going to his face, making sure he was still there, her heart pounding. He reached for the bond, touching it, flooding her with a sense of him. She let out her breath, relieved.

#

He woke her in the night when he couldn't feel her. He drew her into his arms. She reached out for the bond, finding him, slipping back into sleep.

#

Time passed. The moments of solitary clarity came more often. Aslin thought it was good to fill her lungs with the sea air, to hear the creaking of the rigging, to feel the constant sway of the ship as it rocked them across the ocean. And the bond was never far, easy to open and close, easy to call now.

#

There was a storm, rough seas, long sheets of rain dashing against the window, cold and the light dim in the room. She didn't remember if there had been any other storms, but she was aware for this one. Kane left and fought his way down to the hold to reassure Shaol, whom they could hear even over the noise of the storm, the horse entirely panicking.

She followed him from their cabin, sitting on the bed, her eyes blank, his worry for the animal (his love for Shaol, a complex mixture of domination and gratitude and admiration and annoyance and familiarity and affection), his worry for her, leaving her alone even for a small time, she thought, his irritation at something, his wariness of the animal, careful, his confidence, his calm.

Shaol quieted and Kane sent her reassurance, appearing not long after. She let her breath out, the cold sweep of rain and windy gusts fading as he shut the door against it, leaning on it and then holding on as the deck dipped and the floor rolled, tilting sideways.

"Someone left a loose tool and it was rattling and rolling across the hold," Kane told her in Luterian, his hair windswept and wet.

He drew off his cloak, the deck rolling again, now the other way, staggering and finding his balance. He came to where she was in the bed, the backs of his fingers going to her cheek.

"Don't be frightened, Corsaire. The ship will outlast it."

His hands were cold and she drew them to her body, letting him warm them on her.

#

They stood at the rail, full day this time. She felt like she hadn't been in full sunlight for too long. Kane was pointing, naming landmarks as they passed a shore with cliffs yielding to tall green mountains, flocks of birds, a kind she had never seen before, exploding from dense foliage, their wings shiny with color, swooping down the steep slopes. Kane turned and grinned at her slowly that way he did. She felt a wave, touching the bond so he could feel it from her. He sobered and opened it, reaching, brushing her hair where it went across her face in the breeze.