Keeper of the Heart (21 page)

“That’s just great,” Tedra replied testily. “So where does that leave me as far as decisions are concerned? What do I do when Shani still insists on leaving?”

“You let her go,” Martha said simply. “I get to play with meteors for a few weeks while Shani has time to conquer her fears and realize she was making a big deal out of nothing. Meanwhile, the Ba-Har-ani gets to learn patience.”

Tedra bit her lip. “A few weeks?”

“It shouldn’t take much longer than that with me subtly working on her.”

A few hours later, Tedra stood beside Challen and watched Falon Van’yer win yet another round in the competitions. She was getting disgusted with the ease with which he was winning, cutting each match down to less than half the time it should take in his impatience to have the competitions over. It would have been a pleasure to watch that kind of superior sword skill if she wasn’t so angry at that young man for all the trouble he was going to cause in her family. And it was all so unnecessary.

Shani wanted him. Challen already approved of him. Martha didn’t even object to him. That should have made for no obstacles. Instead, Shani was going to leave home, defying her father in the process and ending up sick at heart about it. Challen was going to be furious, and guess who was going to catch hell for it? Not the one who ought to be blamed, but yours truly. And for what? Because that young man allowed his emotions to run amok.

“He fights well, does he not?” Challen observed with a good deal of pleasure.

Tedra gritted her teeth, knowing farden well her lifemate had already made up his mind about Falon. “Why shouldn’t he?” she replied testily. “He’s got jealousy goading him, giving him an advantage over every warrior here.”

“Jealousy?” Challen said skeptically, looking down at her now.

“Absolutely. That warrior isn’t fighting to be champion. He could care less about that. He’s fighting just for our daughter. Hell, he already thinks of her as his. And
that
makes him see every other warrior here not as a mere opponent, but as a rival trying to steal what’s his. He’s jealous all right. He’s pea green with it.”

“And this displeases you, you who are wont to call a warrior a
jerk
because he lacks certain emotions?”

Tedra’s cheeks pinkened the tiniest bit. “There’s such a thing as too much emotion,” she grumbled.

Challen chuckled. “Woman, you will find fault with
any
man who threatens to take your daughter from you. Admit that is all you have against this young
shodan.”

Stars, how she wanted to blurt out what the real problem was. She wasn’t used to keeping secrets from Challen, though right now he more than deserved it after he’d kept secret from her the real reason behind these competitions. But getting him incensed over his daughter’s now missing innocence wasn’t going to accomplish anything other than his disappointment in Shani, and add more problems to join the rest.

So all she answered was, “Sure. Whatever you say, babe,” and got him off the subject of Shani’s suitors by adding, “But he’s not so hot.
You
could take him easily.”

“You have too much pride in your lifemate,” he replied, trying to sound admonishing, but he couldn’t quite pull it off, too pleased by her remark.

“With reason.”

She grinned and bumped hips with him before sauntering off. His laughter followed her. She savored the sound, realizing that in a few days she probably wouldn’t hear it anymore for a very long while.

Falon was in the corridor when Shanelle opened her door the next morning. It was kind of obvious that he was waiting for her because he just stood there, leaning casually against the wall across from her. That she didn’t want to speak to him again was obvious, too, since she promptly closed her door.

But he didn’t push his way into her room as he had yesterday, nor did he knock on her door. He didn’t do anything. Since she was inside waiting nervously for him to do
something,
his not doing anything managed to stimulate in her aggravation of the teeth-grinding kind.

She wasn’t about to remain in her room all day just because the man wouldn’t take no for an answer. She would simply leave without acknowledging that he was out there. She wouldn’t even look at him.

She did just that. But it was a well-known fact of Sha-Ka’ani life that it was literally impossible to ignore a warrior who didn’t want to be ignored— and this one
refused
to be ignored.

He fell into step beside her. “Where do you go this rising, Shanelle?”

Without answering, she just kept walking—and found herself suddenly up against the wall with his arms caging her in on both sides.

“I repeat, where do you go?”

For about two seconds she considered still not answering, but he looked so damn stuck-in-the-ground obstinate, she had the feeling he’d keep her there all day if she didn’t.

Coldly, so he wouldn’t doubt her reasons for saying so, she told him, “I’ve heard that you don’t like visitors, so I’m going to spend the day with my
visitor
friends.”

“At the competitions?”

“Where I go is none of your—”

“Answer!”

“Dammit, I won’t! Where do you get off—”

“I liked your white cloak better,” he interrupted again, fingering her garment, leading their conversation in a new direction. “It was not mine, yet was it my color.”

She snatched the material from his fingers, glaring at him. “I
told
you I would never wear white again.”

“You will,” he said with supreme confidence. “You will wear my colors and be glad of them. The day will come when you will want everyone to know that you are mine.”

She turned ashen. “You’ve spoken to my father, haven’t you?”

“Not yet.”

Both color and relief flooded her face. “Don’t. I mean it, Falon. You wouldn’t be happy with me as a lifemate. I would make you miserable because you won’t be able to help making
me
miserable.”

“It distresses me that you think so,
kerima
.”

Was he joking? She wondered. “I don’t just think it, I know it.”

“Tell me why and I will correct you in the matter.”

She stared at him incredulously. He had to be joking this time.

“Are you going to tell me you’re not a slaveholder? That you’re not a warrior? That you Bar-Harani don’t punish your women for every little thing they do wrong? Are you going to tell me you aren’t inflexible, aren’t hotheaded—”

“Enough!” he said, his tone blasting her with heat. “You will come to love me despite
all
of your objections.”

“I see I forgot to add arrogance to the list.”

He frowned at her sarcastic tone. “You are in definite need of a lesson in the proper respect due a warrior. This will be seen to when you are mine.”

She refused to be intimidated by threats based on “when.”

“Now there’s a classic example of why I don’t want you, Falon. I’m not yours yet, but you’re already planning on punishing me.”

Even more disgruntlement entered his expression. “Your father should be told he has been neglectful in that area.”

He had managed to intimidate her after all. Her father’s punishments were mild compared with Falon’s, but she didn’t care to spend the next week peeling
falaa
in the kitchens. On the other hand, the odor of
falaa
was so unpleasant and strong, it permeated the clothes and skin with the same scent, so that the peeler was definitely avoided until she’d had a thorough scrubbing. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Shanelle grinned, imagining Falon taking one whiff of her and running in the other direction.

He mistook her amusement, asking, “You do not think I would tell him?”

“Actually, I wish you would. It will be interesting to see what you do with your time when I’m not around for you to bother.”

“What in Droda’s name would your father do to you?”

She burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it, he looked so appalled. “What do you
think
he would do to me for such a minor offense—and I say minor, warrior, because whatever disrespect I show you, you provoke. I’m usually much better mannered.”

“You tease me, I think.”

“Fat chance,” she snorted. “Who would dare?”

“You would. You no longer find me so formidable.”

He seemed pleased by that observation. Shanelle wasn’t. What was wrong with her, standing here bantering with him as if they were lovers?

“Now who’s teasing?” she said, and a stiffness had entered her tone. “You’re about as formidable as they come.”

He sighed. “I preferred it when you laughed,
kerima.
What has changed your mood? You had begun to soften toward me—”

“I did no such thing,” she cut in indignantly. “Weren’t you listening earlier, when I told you all the reasons why I will
never
soften toward you?”

“It is only your fear of me that concerns me. The rest will not matter when you are assured that I will never hurt you again.”

All she could do was to stare at him wide-eyed. He really believed that. Conviction was written all over his face. Talk about one-sided logic. But what should she expect from a
warrior?

“That tears it,” she said finally. “Let me pass already, Falon, or I’m going to find out if I actually learned anything in my downing classes.”

The cage opened. She was almost disappointed. It would have been immensely satisfying to see his expression if she could have flipped him onto his backside. Of course, the key word was
if.

“So you can be reasona—?” she started to say but then gasped as she was drawn up against his chest and soundly kissed. When she was set back on her feet a few minutes later, her legs barely supported her. Falon, watching her closely, was now grinning.

“I will escort you to the competitions,” he said, so nonchalantly you’d think he hadn’t just set her on her ear. “I want you to watch me fight.”

“No,” was all she could manage to say at first, but then she threw some ice on the fire he’d just lit and added, “I will be watching the visitor arenas until the end of the competitions. After all, the only reason I went with you to your tent yesterday was because I thought
you
were a visitor. I still mean to find one who will suit me—”

“If you do so, I will have to kill him.”

That bald statement made Shanelle so furious, she was rendered speechless. Dren and Yari chose that moment to come around the corner.

One look at Shanelle’s fiery expression and Falon’s stormy one, and Dren thoughtlessly asked, “Do you need assistance, Shani?”

She had to give Dren credit for not being a complete idiot, because he didn’t actually realize what he was offering until after he’d said it. He then turned three shades of white, which was not surprising, since the top of his head barely reached Falon’s shoulders. But Falon didn’t even glance at the male Kystrani, who he considered beneath his notice.

That, unfortunately, didn’t relieve poor Dren, so Shanelle quickly assured him, “No,
Shodan
Van’yer and I were just discussing a few of the differences between his country and mine. I believe they’re so used to owning slaves that they think they can put the stamp of ownership on anyone they please. Things don’t work that way around here, and the
shodan
would do well to remember that.”

All Falon said to that before leaving was, “Best you remember
my
warning, woman, else will you not like the results.”

Shanelle began to think that something she had said to Falon had finally got through to him when that day passed into the next and he still hadn’t asked her father for her. He got involved with the competitions instead, so involved it was as if he’d forgotten all about her.

She watched him fight from afar, though she’d told him she wouldn’t. And she hadn’t intended to, particularly after his parting threat. She hadn’t intended to get anywhere near him ever again. But it was almost a compulsion to watch him do what warriors do best that made her seek him out. She knew it was foolishness on her part. But she took precautions, staying well back from whichever arena he was fighting in—but not so far back that she couldn’t see him. However, not once did he notice her, or even seem to look for her in the crowd when he wasn’t fighting. And when he was, his concentration was so firmly fixed on his opponents, she probably could have stood right at his arena and not gained his attention.

Today she got bolder, but then today the competitions would end, and her father had requested that she join him and Tedra at his pavilion for the finals. The eliminations had finished that morning. The eight warriors who were still undefeated at swords, and who had lost no more than one of the other contests of skill, would now fight in pairs before the
shodan
until only four remained, then two, then the champion of all. Falon was one of those eight finalists.

Shanelle was not surprised, not after watching how skillfully he had fought yesterday with swords. And he hadn’t lost at any of the other contests either. And as long as she stayed near her parents, she wasn’t too worried about Falon’s saying anything of a personal nature to her if he did approach her. He didn’t. Even while he awaited his turn to fight, he didn’t. And the one time he did look her way, he didn’t acknowledge her at all.