Born of Legend (68 page)

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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

BOOK: Born of Legend
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“You better not be chasing after no
qeres.
I don't share my male.”

Laughing, he took her hand and pressed it against his swollen groin. “Believe me, I haven't been near anyone else. That requires a level of trust that I only give
you.
” He dipped his head down to kiss her, but his words had already broken her heart and lodged a sob in her throat.

He pulled back with a frown. “What's wrong?”

Before she could answer, her link went off. She started to ignore it, but it was Zellen. “Hold on a sec. That's a command call.” She pulled it out and answered it.

“Admiral? We have a situation in the bay. Not sure how to handle this one.”

Weird. He didn't normally have such problems. “What's going on?”

“I have six Porturnum ships seeking Safe Harbor.”

“Okay.… Why is that a problem?”

He lowered his voice. “Two of them are Andarion, and they're wearing warrior braids. I swear one looks a lot like your husband's cousin who was executed during their coup. Does he happen to have a relative named Varan Enole?”

She glanced over at Jullien, and by the fury in his stralen eyes … “I'm going to say yes.”

“That's what I was afraid of. They're asking a lot of probing questions that are above my rank and pay. How do you want me to handle this?”

“Call the HCs.…” That was the most she could get out before Jullien was heading for the door with an intent that said he was on his way to confront them and blow this situation into a fatal outcome.

 

C
HAPTER
26

“Jules! I order you to stop! Now!”

He paused outside the door and turned to face Ushara with a look that actually frightened her.
“Order?”

“A little harsh, but you can't go down there and confront them when they're here under Safe Harbor. You know better.”

And still that expression made her blood run cold. She'd never really been afraid of him before, but right then …

This was a side of him she really didn't want to be on.

“I'm currently under Jory's banner. He won't care if I rattle their cage or snatch the door straight off it. He'd be the first one to do it, especially after what they did to me while he harbored me under it and they broke Code. Today, I intend to be payback's two-fisted bitch.”

He turned toward the bay, and as he started for it, he almost slammed into Trajen as he manifested in front of him to block his path.

“What the fuck?”

“Tone,” Trajen said in a voice that was deceptively calm. “Don't be thinking you're all that with those powers, boy. Remember, some of us have had ours a lot longer and mastered them long before your daddy got busy with your mama. You jerk that chin at me and take that tone, and I'll slam your ass down, bare it, and spank it.”

A tic started in Jullien's jaw. “So I'm just supposed to let them encroach with impunity? Need I remind you that I'm Andarion, and that's not how we do things.”

“Yes, and they know you're Andarion, which is why they're doing it. They're trying to flush you out after your last attack on them. Tit for tat. And if you'd stop being an idiot for three seconds, you'd know that.”

Jullien flung his hands out and manifested fire into both of his fists. “Then let me roast the bitches.”

“Ushara? Leash him.”

“I'm trying. But he's not really broken in. As you say, he flunked home-training. There's not a lot I can do when he's like this.”

Trajen let out a tired sigh. “This is going to be bad, then.” He snapped his fingers and Jullien vanished.

Ushara gasped. “What'd you do?”

“Gave him a time-out.” Growling low in his throat, he rubbed at his eye. “He's going to be so pissed off. But you and I know what will happen if he storms into that bay and starts his shit with that crew.”

Sadly, she did.

War. All-out, and nasty.

With another heavy sigh, Trajen dropped his hand. “C'mon. Let's go deal with this drama, then we'll deal with Jullien's trauma. And you have my permission to bust their asses for wrecking your anniversary.”

“Thank you.” Not looking forward to it, Ushara headed for the main bay, where Zellen was waiting with a group of Ports she'd never seen before.

Since Trajen was in regular clothes, they had no idea he was the HAP of their Nation. Not that it seemed to matter—they didn't show her much respect, and she was in full Tavali gear with her Canting and rank clearly displayed on her sleeves.

Zellen saluted her. “Admiral, our guests would like access to some of our personnel files.”

“To what purpose?”

The Andarion, who did indeed look a lot like Jullien's cousin Merrell, eyed her suspiciously and didn't identify himself past his Canting and the name on his uniform. “We have a runaway slag we're tracking. We have reason to believe he might be seeking refuge here.”

“Give me his name, and I'll look and see.”

“He might be using an alias.”

“I can search for that, as well.”

The Andarion didn't back off in the least. “We need to do facial cog.”

Nice try …
But the unstoppable wind had just met the immovable object. She wasn't about to hand over her husband to anyone.

Ushara arched her brow with the same haughty disdain. “I can scan for photos.”

“We don't want to trouble you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “But you already have interrupted my dinner. So why not hand over what you need, and let me get started on your trace?”

An angry tic started in his jaw as he narrowed his white gaze on her name. “Altaan? You're a winged military caste, are you not?”

She didn't dignify that with a response. Mostly because it was a sore, sticking point with her family that they alone held that distinction. Of all the lineages on Andaria, her father's sole branch was the only one that was both Pavakahir and Murakhiran—Fyreblood and winged—two of the strongest and rarest bloodlines. And they had been chased from the military and “cleansed” from Andarion soil by the tadara herself.

Anole rudely picked up a strand of her blond hair from her shoulder and curled his lip at it. “You're hybrid?”

In that moment, she was
so
grateful Jullien wasn't here. For that insult alone, he would have gutted his cousin.

There were only a handful of crimes an Andarion male viewed as worse than having another male touch his spouse. In their society, it was viewed as a felony, and Jullien would be within all legal rights to kill his cousin for such an offense.

Glaring at him, she snatched her hair out of his grasp. “Anole? You're a branch of the royal family, aren't you? Second cousin of the tadara?”

“Yes, he is. How clever of you to know that … Or perhaps someone told you?”

Ushara's blood went cold at the sound of Eriadne's voice. Holy gods … It tested every shred of sanity she had not to react to the female's presence in her hangar. No wonder Trajen had sent Jullien out of here.

It would have been an absolute bloodbath.

With a deep breath for strength and patience, she turned to face the one creature she wanted to kill most in this universe. And it took every single piece of restraint she'd been born with not to shoot the bitch on sight.

Complete and utter shock riveted her, and that alone kept her from reacting—and probably saved her life. While she knew Andarions aged
much
slower than humans, she also knew the tadara was at least a hundred years old, if not over. But the female in front of her didn't look a day older than fifty, if that. In fact, her caramel skin was virtually flawless and smooth. There was barely a wrinkle or pore on it.

She was stunningly beautiful still. High cheekbones were set against a regal, patrician face with perfectly arched black brows that contrasted sharply with her white Andarion eyes. Her long black hair had been braided with a gold band and fell over one shoulder to her tiny waist. With a cool aloofness, she commanded attention and respect.

Eriadne arched a brow at Ushara. “You don't bow to your tadara?”

Ushara lifted her chin defiantly. “If I were in the presence of her, I would. But I'm not an Andarion citizen nor do I see any tadara here.”

That had the desired effect. It pissed her off. Her nostrils flaring, bloodlust darkened her eyes. “You're playing with fire,
kikatalla.

Little girl? Really?

Refusing to be intimidated or belittled by such a ridiculous ploy, she offered Eriadne a cool smile. “I'm told I do that well.”

Eriadne wasn't amused. “You remind me of someone, but I can't remember who…” Her gaze fell to Ushara's stomach. “You're with child?”

“I am.”

“Your husband must be proud.”

“He was very much so.”

“Was?”

Ushara allowed her eyes to tear up. “We're Tavali. He was taken by The League two months ago. They executed him.”

Eriadne narrowed her eyes speculatively. “You're sure about that?”

“Given the warrant for his life … quite positive. After all, they're not known for hesitation or mercy. I'm sure that's something you can appreciate.”

Eriadne snapped her head back as if she'd been slapped. “You're rather cheeky, aren't you?”

Ushara shrugged. “Since I hold the second-highest-ranking position in my Nation, it's a bene that comes with my seat.”

Eriadne grimaced in distaste before she glanced to Anole. “Would it be amiss of me if I inquire about the name of your husband, Admiral? I should like to add him to my prayers.”

“We're Demurrists here. But if you still feel the need, by all means. It was Dagger … Samari.”

Eriadne paled. “Samari? I thought them all extinct.”

“You were misinformed.”

“You lie!” Varan stepped forward. “Jullien's your husband! Admit it. We know he's here. That you're harboring the slimy little bastard!”

Eriadne held her hand up to silence him.

Ushara passed a smug sneer to Varan. “Feel free to check my marriage records, as well as the records of my children. They're all public. My husband's name is clearly registered. He was the captain of the
Stormbringer.
” She pulled out her link and accessed the documents for them. “As you can see, his paternal lineage and name are filed. As is his mother's. My husband's paternal bloodline was confirmed at the time of our marriage through DNA as Samari Pavakahiri, and his maternal is registered as Altaan Pavakakiri, not the Nykyrian-Anatole Ixurian bloodlines, which I believe Tiziran Jullien's would be, is that not right?”

Fury darkened Eriadne's eyes as she reviewed the documentation that had to be her worst nightmare, as it publicly called her a liar.

And a faithless whore.

“Yes, that is correct. My grandsons are of the Nykyrian-Anatole lineages, and they are Ixurian. We have no Fyreblood within our noble house.”

“Then my husband obviously never had anything in common with your family. My Dagger was born a proud Fyreblood.”

Varan gaped while Eriadne continued to glare a murderous line through Ushara. “You're playing a dangerous game. Be warned.”

“I'm not playing a game at all. Games are for amusement, and there's nothing amusing when someone's life is at stake. But then, perhaps that's your problem. You never understood the difference between games and reality.”

Hissing, Eriadne took a step toward her before she caught her composure and stopped. “You don't want to push me.”

“And I'm Tavali Pavakihira,” Ushara said, holding her ground and refusing to back down. “You don't want to threaten or challenge me. More than that, I'm a mother who loves her young, and unlike you, I will kill anyone and any
thing
who dares to threaten what I love.”

Eriadne laughed coldly. “That's the trick … though, isn't it? I hope what you love always returns it to you, and doesn't betray you as mine did me. There is no more bitter a pill than to birth your own destruction.”

She started for her ship, then paused to look back at Ushara. “Oh, and if perchance you do happen upon my grandson one day while he slithers about in hiding, tell Jullien that Ives sends his best to him and can't wait to spend more time alone with him. I, for one, can't wait to reunite them.”

And with that, she gathered her men and left.

As soon as she was out of sight, Ushara scowled at Trajen. “What in the Nine Worlds was
that
about?”

“Cold-blooded viciousness.”

“Meaning?”

Trajen appeared sick to his stomach before he answered in a low tone that was barely audible. “Jullien told you about her private
vörgäte
?”

“That she'd lock him into for various things. Yes.”

He gave her a hard stare. “You're not naïve, Ushara. You know what happens to boys in prison, especially to a prince whose family is as hated as his.… Ives was one of his more malicious abusers.”

Her stomach heaved. She ran as fast as she could for the nearest bathroom and barely made it before her stomach emptied itself.

Shaking and weak, Ushara couldn't breathe as her anger and horror wrapped themselves around her heart and made her sick to her stomach. Tears for Jullien filled her eyes as she tried to calm down. But it was hard, given the imagined nightmares that played through her mind.

Her poor Jules …

What she imagined, he had to live with.

Trajen followed her and handed her a cool cloth when she finally stopped retching. “Sorry. I shouldn't have sprung that on you so callously. I'm as upset as you are. That was wrong of me.”

She held the cloth to the back of her neck and flushed the commode. “He never talks about it.”

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