Bondmate (12 page)

A
little cry of fear escaped her lips, and she clutched her hands together rather
than to reach out and pull
them
back. This couldn’t be
happening now, not when they’d travelled so far, discovered that singing
awareness of each other. To have it all ripped away now was agony.

Bynton
heard her and stepped close, lowering his head and capturing her gaze. His eyes
glowed with excitement. “Your beauty and the pleasures we’ve shared give us the
advantage, Avanelle. We will not lose you. Be confident in us.”

“But
there’s three of them and only two of you.”

“No matter.
It would take
twenty of these feeble
Madocs
to have an advantage
over any Albin warrior.”
Bynton’s
dismissal of the
odds failed to comfort her.

Mateen
approached and stood close to her other side. “They will not win.”

Unable
to find any words of support, Avanelle simply nodded her head. They deserved as
much courage from her as she could muster. Bynton stroked a finger down her
cheek, and she blinked back tears. People around them muttered, and the man in
white spoke up.

“Bynton,
no contact until the bond is made. You understand that.”

One
of the
Madocs
roared out agreement. “She’s not yours,
infant! You’ll lose that hand for your impertinence.”

Bynton
whirled away from her, all his coiled muscles tensing. Mateen gave him a
warning glance, and he steadied. Both men strode away from her to face the
three waiting fighters.
Such beautiful bodies that might soon
be butchered.
Avanelle felt a nudge at her side and looked away from the
tense confrontation to see the sweet woman who’d helped her with the clothing
just an hour before. Her hand pressed against Avanelle’s back, and she nearly
swooned at the support.

“A
challenge hasn’t happened in years, but
Madoc
warriors have held a grudge against
Albins
for a long
time. None of these
Madocs
have
risen
high enough to earn a chance to visit Earth and probably never will. They must
see this as the perfect opportunity to exact revenge and gain a mate. Steal
away an Albin woman in front of all assembled here. Bynton and Mateen are more
than capable. Have faith in them. Your bond is strong already and will see them
through any trial ahead.”

“I
don’t understand how,”
Avanelle
whispered back,
worried she’d distract her men or be disciplined by the white robed leader now
stepping forward, one arm raised to gather the attention of the crowd.

“The
connection you’ve made with them. When
Alphans
find a
mate, have sex, they grow stronger. That’s why warriors want us. Why their
loyalty is so unshakable.”

Shock
at what she’d just heard made Avanelle turn away from the imminent battle
again. The other woman nodded solemnly. “You feel it, too. It’s like your
nerves are more sensitive.
Stronger, faster reaction times.
Your bond is very deep already. All of us could feel it as we waited for you
outside the comfort room at the terminal.”

Avanelle
jerked her head back to Mateen and Bynton as the
officiant
spoke up. “All who are gathered today will witness and know. This is a proper
challenge, and no blood feud may result from its outcome. Begin!”

His
sudden shout was met with bellows from the warriors assembled. She could
discern both
Bynton’s
and Mateen’s from the sudden
din and her heart swelled with a furious love. If this woman was right, and all
the intimacy they’d shared would give them an advantage, she intended to
project as much of her passion their way as she could even from her place far
from them on the red stones.

The
three
Madocs
scattered wide and rushed in with a
roar. Two fell upon Mateen with wide swings of their axes while Bynton leaped
at the remaining warrior. Her heart rose to her throat as she watched blades
swing and saw the men twist and duck, their muscles bunching and flexing under
the sheen of oily skin. Metal clashed against metal, and many in the crowd made
approving sounds and moved forward for a better view. Avanelle wished she could
close her eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening, but she would be a witness to
her men’s bravery, no matter how her stomach churned with worry.

With
a loud cry, one of the
Madocs
swinging at
Mateen
brought his axe round in a wide arc, and with a
quick jerk, Mateen somehow rushed closer and drew his shoulder under the other
man. With a punch up from the blades of his axe, Mateen punctured the other
man’s abdomen, ripping open two gashes in the ridged muscles of his opponent.
Red blood coursed down golden skin, and the wounded fighter howled out in rage
or pain. Continuing his momentum, Mateen swung behind the injured man as he
lurched into a protective crouch and brought the knobbed end of his axe down at
the base of the other man’s neck. There was a terrible popping crunch, and the
gutted man fell limp on the stones. Without a moment’s pause, the other
Madoc
, who’d been held at bay by the wild swings of his
companion, fell upon Mateen, their axes striking against each other’s like
swords. It was savage to watch, and Avanelle’s gorge rose when Mateen slipped
on the pool of blood spreading from his fallen opponent. He scrambled to his
feet, and the remaining
Madoc
halted his advance,
clearly resetting his plan of approach.

Bynton
and the other
Madoc
had locked into some sort of
shoving match, the sharp blades of their axes perilously close to their faces.
Both were panting as rivulets of perspiration ran down their faces. The
Madoc
snarled and kicked at
Bynton’s
legs, connecting with one shin hard enough to break his balance and send him
sprawling to his knees, the attacker pressing with a short swing of his axe. It
connected with the armor covering
Bynton’s
left elbow
with a clang, the force of the blow driving Bynton to the floor.

Avanelle
couldn’t hold back her cry of fear, and she took a step towards the fight,
wishing she had some sort of spear or rock to throw at the
Madoc
grinning in triumph as he raised his axe overhead for a terrible blow. But
Bynton
wasn’t finished. With a quick movement he spun and
drove his feet directly into the knees of the other
Alphan
.
The other man lurched and fell forward, bringing his plated elbows to driving
points just as he landed on
Bynton’s
bare chest.
There was a tremendous groan from both men as they sprawled and grappled with
each other on the ground.

Avanelle’s
heart was racing, and she couldn’t draw breath, almost as if she, too, had
received blows, was fighting for her life out there on the dark stones.

“Steady.
Your bond draws you in to their struggle. Your calm will help them.” The
woman’s low voice steadied Avanelle, and she willed her body to stillness, ordered
her mind to concentrate. Raised voices from the people surrounding her couldn’t
distract her now, no matter what point of combat they were praising.

Mateen
was pressing the attack against his
Madoc
; somehow
the other man had been wounded on his chest, and blood poured down his torso.
He was stumbling back, circling the edges of the crowd all while keeping his
eyes on Mateen as he advanced. With a whirling spin, Mateen closed the distance
between them, throwing out his leg in a rapid kick that knocked the sluggish
Madoc
off his feet. The other man’s axe clattered on the
stones as he dropped it, and Mateen kicked it away. His face was set in hard
lines as he advanced on his attacker; no apparent rage, no bared teeth, just
intense concentration on the task at hand. The other man scrambled, but slipped
on the stone. Perhaps oil or sweat from their bodies marred the surface, but he
couldn’t gain his footing in time to avoid the huge blow Mateen delivered. He’d
raised his armored arms in a protective gesture, and as Mateen’s axe crashed
down, the edge caught in the gap between two of the bronzy plates. Mateen set
his foot on the fallen man’s heaving chest and tugged at the handle of his axe
in an effort to free it as the crowd roared approval. The
Madoc’s
arm swung wildly as Mateen pulled, while his other arm beat ineffectively at
Mateen’s legs.

There
was a loud cry from several in the audience, and Avanelle sought out Bynton and
gasped at the sight. The man who’d landed on top of him was sprawled
motionless, but Bynton was struggling to rise from his knees, swaying as he
tried to rise and help his bondmate. With a moan of anguish, Avanelle rushed
toward him, only to be restrained by the strong grip of the man in white. He
held her arm tight and shook his head once, eyes narrowed at her in a way that
promised punishment if she disobeyed. Past caring, desperate for Bynton and
Mateen, Avanelle burst out a wordless shout and pulled against him with all her
strength. It didn’t move him, but she continued to struggle. Standing on the
sidelines while they suffered was no longer an option.

Mateen
pulled his axe free and hefted it at his side.

“Submit!”
he shouted down at the last conscious
Madoc
, who
still flailed at him from the pavement. “Your bondmates are gone.”

The
Madoc
roared out and rolled to his side, then his
feet. Instead of attacking Mateen as she’d feared, the battered man instead
stumbled toward the
Madoc
who’d been cut open,
touching his shoulder and muttering in his ear. On shaky legs, the
Alphan
knelt at the fallen man’s side and let out sharp
cry, then rose and stumbled to the final
Madoc
. He
knelt again and awkwardly lifted him in his arms, the dented armor restricting
his movements.

Avanelle
supposed she should appreciate the pathos of the scene, feel a smidge of
sympathy for the incredible loss this man had just suffered, but she didn’t.
Cold satisfaction filled her as she realized the battle was over and her men
had triumphed. She turned to stare at the man in white.

“Let
me go!” Her shout seemed to matter this time, for he released her arm. She scrambled
toward her men, first to
Bynton
as he balanced on his
hands and knees, chest heaving, his head hanging low. His skin was hot as she
ran her hands over him, and his muscles trembled. He sat back on his haunches
and swung his head her way, his features marred by rapidly swelling bruises on
his jaw and above his eye. He blinked then flung his arms around her in a
powerful hug. She smelled his sweat, his blood, felt his heart hammering, and a
wave of joyful relief filled her.

“You
are ours,” he muttered, and she nodded against his shoulder, not caring that
the armor scratched her cheek. “Mateen fought well.”

“Of
course he did, as well as you.” Avanelle drew back and caught his mouth with
hers, completely unconcerned if this was improper behavior. In her opinion,
claiming was complete. Bynton eased his mouth against hers, and she belatedly
remembered the bruise. There was a rush of air and heat, and Mateen was kneeling
next to them, embracing them both with his heavy arms as he panted. She turned
her mouth to his, pressing kisses to his lips, jaw, and neck.

“Your injuries?”

“Not
severe. Broken ribs, loose teeth,” Bynton said, then threw his arm around his
bondmate for a quick embrace. With a sigh, Mateen rose, pulling up both Bynton
and her, his arms supporting them both.

“We
defeated the
Madoc
challenge. We offer ourselves to
Avanelle
Rein unimpeded,”
Bynton
shouted at the crowd, his voice wheezing.

“I
accept them. I claim them.” Avanelle spoke up quickly, determined to avoid
another challenge, or any delay in her destiny.

There
were raised voices in the crowd, a few huffs of what might have been
Alphan
laughter. The man in white walked closer and stared
down at her.

“She’s
defiant. Are you sure you want her?”

“We
are.” Both Bynton and
Mateen
managed to speak in
between labored breaths.

“Then
go attend to your injuries before your feast. You have my blessing.” He raised
one huge hand over them,
then
walked back to the red
stone dais.

Avanelle
wasn’t sure where to go, but the sudden arrival of the
Alphans
she’d met before gave her a sense of security. She didn’t let go of either
Bynton or Mateen as they were led through the crowd, her steps uneasy as her
legs began to quake. Delayed stress perhaps, but she wouldn’t stumble. Mateen
would want to sweep her up if she did, and she wouldn’t add to his burden.
Keeping Bynton upright was enough of a job for both of them. They passed
through a wide doorway and turned into another room where there were thinly
padded cots and some containers of bandages and what appeared to be medical
supplies.

“Attend
to your bondmates, Avanelle.” One of the big
Alphan
men gestured at the beds, and she maneuvered both Mateen and Bynton onto the
waiting surfaces. “You’ve earned each other this day.”