Sarazen's Claim, Book One (35 page)

Now she had everyone’s attention, and not only was Niora looking a little nervous, so were several council members, and Tarek’s father was looking at her like any moment he would leap from his seat and drag her to the ground. “As you answered incorrectly, and rudely, I get another question. Did you come up with the scheme to make T’mai your mate by deception, or did someone help you do it?” Niora spluttered, guffawed, but because she was caught so off guard, the scent of her guilt was unmistakable, “Will you honestly stand there and let this mutant speak to your mate this way?” She demanded of T’mai, and from the corner of her eye she saw T’mai cross his arms over his chest and grunt, “You claimed right of challenge, answer the question or forfeit your claim,”

“I will not answer such a ludicrous question, obviously meant to dishonor and discredit me! I am the mate of the
Asho
.”

“Answer, or forfeit.” Tarek repeated, and now Niora was in a tough spot, fighting to remain stone faced and infuriated, when the scent of fear was wafting from her in rancid waves.

Her reaction was enough for the pride to doubt her, question her, for speculation to run rampant through the hall, and no one was leaping to her defense. Her question had done its damage, and with her refusal to answer, with the scent of her guilt and fear, she set herself up for one hell of a fall. “I will kill you for this,” She hissed, the words a promise and before anyone could respond, she heard a whisper of sound and was flinching back when a clawed arm plowed through Niora’s back and punched out the other side.

She stared at the muscular arm covered in gore, the clawed fingers holding what looked like Niora’s heart. She watched the shock, the pain that flashed over Niora’s face, the way her body jerked when the arm impaling her disappeared, leaving Niora to fall in a heap at the feet of Tarek’s father. The expression on his face chilled her to the soul, not even Tarek’s arm banding around her middle to jerk her back out of the way, not even the feeling of him turning to put his body between hers while still holding her, couldn’t warm her. The older male was looking dispassionately down at the heart in his hand, crimson spread up to his bicep like a gory glove. “What have you done?” Tarek boomed, voice so loud that it echoed to every corner of the cavern. His father opened his hand, and the heart that he’d ripped from Niora’s chest rolled off his fingers to splat on the stone floor beside her body. “No threat of death against the
Asho’na
is to be tolerated.” He said simply, unapologetically, and looked at her with eyes every bit as cold and black as Niora’s had been, and pressed his bloody fingertips to his chest. That look…it was so horrifying that she got lost in that blackness.

She must have checked out after that, because the next thing she heard was Tarek shouting and roaring at someone, while she sat on something soft, arms hugging her from either side. She blinked and drew in a shaky breath, licking her lips as things came back into focus. They were back in the citadel proper, in the main hall where the two stone thrones sat. Gwen and Cassie were on either side of her, supporting her while she got her shit together. Tarek seemed to be giving the council and his father, the ass chewing of a lifetime, “Where’s T’mai?” She murmured, making Cassie jump in surprise, “He’s with Ga’rae getting an exam. He seems to be okay so far.” Gwen murmured, both of them pale and wide eyed, “Your guy, not so much. He’s um, he’s out of his mind. I thought he was going to murder his father when you checked out. The um, Niora…She made her threat in view of the whole pride, so legally it’s sanctioned.” She took another breath and caught the tail end of Tarek’s tirade, the rage he fought to contain, his beast so close to the surface it was clawing at his skin from the inside, thrashing to be unleashed. He was raging at them all, at his father for putting his own son at risk, for risking T’mai’s sanity and for daring to begin his rule of this pride in such a blood bath, on a day that was to have been a celebration. “You chastise me for an irrelevant matter. T’mai has not succumbed to madness, proof enough that his mating was false. Which proves his weakness, and gives reason enough why traitors have permeated our pride and threaten its survival.”

She could feel him getting ready to explode and reached out without thinking. She let her cat rise enough to soothe, to bleed away some of that rage to better be able retain his control. His head whipped around to where she sat, his hair flying wild around his body, and despite the situation, arousal kicked her hard in the gut. Followed by a dizzying rush of Tarek’s relief. His need to touch her was strong enough that she was up and moving towards him before any other thought permeated, lifting her hand to meet his, taking strength and heat from the scrape of his rougher palm against hers. ‘
I’m fine
,’ she murmured silently before he could ask, and despite the way her stomach churned, she looked at the cold, expressionless face of his father. “You haven’t spoken two words to me since I arrived, and yet you leapt over the table to drive your hand through Niora’s body, ripped her heart out, for voicing a verbal threat to me.”

Those cold black eyes stared back at her, making her cat rise further in reaction to fill her with resolve and power. Confidence enough to make her lift her chin to meet that spine chilling stare. “As I said, it is now irrelevant-“ She got him to blink when she interrupted him, the only outward appearance he gave to show his reaction. No scent, no change in his pulse, nothing to say if it was surprise or annoyance or anger. He was like a robot. “It is very relevant. You’ve been aware of the false mating for some time now, and the relevance of Niora’s death is that perhaps you are the one responsible for it in the first place, and her death benefits you to keep her silent. It is relevant, because no one fucking asked you to interfere, and yet there you were, the first to react. Overreact. Risking your son, on a maybe.” A tiny tic of his jaw was all she got before he answered, his tone flat and unconcerned. Bored even. “Better my son, than you and your cub. I like her.” He said to Tarek, dismissing her just like that.

Tarek’s rage had unfortunately fed hers, and at his dismissal, her cat surged, and all around her she heard the ripping of material and the startled shrieks and yeowls of cats, got the first true reaction out of Tarek’s father that she’d seen yet. His eyes flew wide in surprise, the twelve council members uncontrollably shifting from man to beast, while she held Tarek’s father…whose name she didn’t even know…suspended between his change, and she could tell that it was painful. She didn’t even know how she was doing it, but for now she didn’t care. “No half answers, no deflection, why did you interfere?” He grimaced and rolled his head on his shoulders, shuddering while his muscles jerked with the need to change. “There was no reason before to upset the pride and leave them without a strong
Asho
to lead them, T’mai was the best option, he did well, and the alternative was to expose his weakness and invite civil war at a time when our armada was focused and fighting to protect our territory. When you returned beside my son, things changed. Will change. The pride will be stronger than ever now,”

She didn’t look away, asking Tarek if he was satisfied by his sire’s answer, and her mate gave a nod, his thumb brushing up and down the fine bones in her wrist. Her cat eased back into her fleshy prison, noticing now that every single Sarazen in the room was on four paws, Cassie and Gwen included. All of them lay flat, save for a few on their sides to expose their bellies. T’farro and two other council members, included. “Perfect,” Tarek’s sire grunted, rubbing the heel of his hand into his sternum, beads of sweat dotting his upper lip. He had the same dark hair as T’mai, though it was liberally shot with silver now, she could tell that he was the one to have passed on the dimple she loved so much, as well as his remarkably intimidating presence. “What is?” Tarek snapped, “Your mate. Perfect for you, in every way. It brings a small measure of relief to know she and her kind were found as a result of my mistake.” His black eyes moved around the room and his brow, briefly jumping up, “Impressive,” He stated, and she looked down when Gwen came to bump her hand with her cool nose. Tarek squeezed her hand and looked down at the furry council members, “Do I hear any contest that my mate is not fit to be
Asho’na
?” 

To a one, the twelve beasts rolled to their feet, tucked one front leg beneath their bodies, stretched the other out in front and tucked their muzzles down in a feline like bow, and Tarek commanded them to get out. He didn’t say anything else until everyone was gone, then he towed her back towards their suite, stopping in at the small medical room where Ga’rae was waiting, petting his mate where she sat at his side. “Check her,” Tarek demanded harshly, scooping her up to deposit her on the soft surface of the table. And the only reason she didn’t come up snarling at him, was the concern she could feel jangling along their bond. The green laser light swept up and down her body, and she could see the top of Gwen’s nose where she was peeking over the table edge. She shot her a quick smile, “All is within normal limits, and her bloodwork has come back normal, no traces left of the Flurra pollen either.”

Tarek gave a tight nod and lifted her off the table. If not for her long legs, she’d have had to run to keep up with his strides, starting to get concerned by the absence of any emotion running through their bond. He slapped his hand to the biometric lock on their suite, moved in and drew in a deep breath, leaving her at the door after shutting it, and moved through every inch of the suite before he came back to her. Moving like an asteroid on a collision course and grabbed her, ducking his head to slant a bruising, almost punishingly hard kiss on her mouth. She felt it then, a blast of the terrible mix of worry, pride, rage, happiness. His need to feel her in every cell of his body the only instinct fueling him now. So she gave, she softened and wrapped her arms around him, opened her lips and let him take everything he wanted from her. “Forgive me,” he rasped, the urgency easing while his hands raked over every inch of her, like he was assuring himself she wasn’t hurt or injured. “For what?”

“I allowed that challenge, I should not have.”

“I’m alright,”

“What you saw my sire do-“

“I won’t ever forget. But I’m alright. I’m alright.”

Like he knew how much she needed it, he stripped her carefully and carried her into the shower, urging her to lean against him while he wrapped his arms around her to pull the pins from her hair. He used his fingers to comb the braids out, to unravel the loops and coils, then made her sigh and moan softly at the firm pressure he used to massage the soap into her scalp. Her body. “Tomorrow, my one, things will change.” She rubbed her cheek on his chest, staring blindly at the stone wall of the shower, “Will we?” He bent his head and touched his mouth to her mating mark, licked the still sensitive skin there at her shoulder, “Never.” He took her to bed, made her forget everything for a while, and in the aftermath lay with her, holding her close, tightly, until she fell asleep. Tomorrow, she could think about all the things that would change tomorrow.

Thirty Three

Shoulders tight, he stormed into his quarters, seething after his first day as pride ruler. T’mai had done very well, but there were holes and inconsistencies everywhere. He had relied on his council for much, delegating where it was proper, but leaving himself vulnerable to attack. He’d found records that did not match up in minute ways, some of his own reports that had been modified before reaching the citadel, details here and there changed that weren’t immediately obvious, those most recent had sustained more tampering. The intent to make it seem like the humans were all like the singular male, the one Ohlen had dispatched to the gods of vengeance. The report had been worded in such a way that suspicion and avarice had already been on the minds of those who knew about them. His list of suspects was thankfully short, and that list he kept between he, Falken and Brennaugh.

He had recalled every warrior planet side who had served under him, the ones who had been with him the longest. He promoted Falken and Brennaugh to his personal council, Ga’rae to his personal medic and made Ohlen liaison to the humans. He had then called every male serving as personal guard to the citadel and dismissed them, assuring them it was not due to their performance or lack thereof, that he was eliminating all faces he did not know and thereby eliminating any threat to his mate. He was slightly surprised by their agreement and understanding, thus he arranged for them to be generously compensated and moved on. He didn’t call halt until his beast was furiously raging at him for leaving his mate for so long. Ne’tare and some of the other human mates had kept her company, all of them eager to share in the joy of the news that Clary was carrying not one, but two of his get.

After examining her corpse, Ga’rae substantiated that Niora had been using the moss for a prolonged period of time, long enough to have rendered her completely sterile.  T’mai had retreated to his wing, and he was the only one who knew that Elenna was currently with him. Not even Clary knew, and he was displeased to be keeping that from her, but it was necessary for now, and his brother had more than earned his privacy. Plus, it kept him out of the way. It had taken all the discipline he had gathered over the years to fight through the muck and mire, the shadows and smoke that hid the person or persons responsible for Niora being planted within the household. Responsible for changing his reports. Responsible he suspected, for far more.