Stolen: Warriors of Hir, Book 3 (9 page)

“Oh, yeah, nothing safer than two people trapped by a storm, miles from any help and with no comm, deciding to split up,” Summer snapped. “You know, you g’hir could learn a lot from watching a few human horror movies.”

He bared his fangs. “Our agreement was that you obey me during this journey. You stay here.”

“You’re crazy!” she burst out. “It’s a goddamn tempest out there
and
it’s getting dark. How will you even find your way back here?”

He offered her the luma. “You will guide me.”

Summer glared but he met her look for look.

“Thirty minutes,” she warned, her own voice almost a g’hir growl, the luma’s bright beam illuminating the floor as she snatched the light from him. “You have thirty minutes to get back here. I’m already soaked, hungry, and cranky so you sure don’t want see how ticked off I’ll be to have to come after you.”

“I imagine that is true.” He gave a human-style nod. “I will return as soon as I am able.”

“Good,” she grumbled as he went out, ducking his head against the gale. “I’m timing you!” she called after him.

He probably hadn’t heard that last part, not with the storm.

Fuming, Summer sat on a rock by the cave opening and pointed the luma toward the entrance, wondering if in all this rain he’d even be able to see the light at all. It also occurred to her then that, without a watch or a phone or even one of the g’hir timepieces, she didn’t have a way of timing
anything
.

“Not now, damn it,” Summer muttered, wiping impatiently at her eyes. “He’s coming back. Jeez, Ke’lar’s the kind of man that would probably—”

But Ke’lar’s not a man.

That wasn’t fair, not really. He wasn’t human, of course, but he was male through and through—stubbornness and all. He was honorable too, maybe not
human
honorable, but still it counted for something. He was willing to help her, willing to risk himself and his clan to make sure that her rights—at least the warped, screwed up g’hir version of her rights—were protected.

Summer shifted her weight to a more comfortable position, trying to settle in for the wait, trying to keep her mind from what she would do if he didn’t come back.

It made sense just to sit tight if he didn’t; just let whatever happened to him out there happen.
He
was the one who insisted he go alone. This was his planet and he was an alien warrior, part of the same race and culture that had torn her from her home without a thought.

It was freezing and she was soaked through, her belly empty, but with the cave clear of predators and herself safely out of the storm she would survive till it passed.

God knows I won’t die of thirst. Just stick my hand out there anytime I’m feeling a bit parched.

Summer pushed her hair back behind her ears again, startled to find the strands half dry already. She stood and went to the entrance, trying to peer through the curtain of rain, but of course she couldn’t see a goddamned thing out there.

How long has it been?

Her hand was beginning to cramp from holding the luma and she changed her grip, careful to keep the light shining outward for him even as she made her way back to the rock to sit again.

It was a cyclone out there. He might have gotten lost.

Or hurt.

The paths were slick even for a sure-footed-as-a-mountain-goat g’hir warrior.

Summer crossed her legs, her foot tapping on the dirt floor. 

Five minutes. I’ll give him five more minutes . . .

They’d changed direction in the storm so many times she wasn’t even sure which way the clanhall lay from here. She might be in the Erah’s territory but it was vast. Beside, it wasn’t as if she could stroll into the Erah clanhall by herself. She might run into another of their clanbrothers while wandering around their lands but that didn’t mean that man would keep Ke’lar’s promise to her. Any other Erah clanbrother would probably just return her right to Ar’ar to keep the peace between their clans, so if she thought about it, it only made sense that she’d be worried about—

“Oh, thank
God
!”

Summer was on her feet instantly as Ke’lar, loaded down with supplies, appeared at the cave’s entrance. He brought a spray of water with him, soaking her anew as he ducked inside. He gave a startled grunt as she flung her arms around his neck in a hug.

Ke’lar was solid muscle against her and with her cheek pressed to his chest she could feel the strong rhythm of his heart. He was really warm too, despite the rain and the chill, with that amazing male scent of his—

Summer’s mouth popped open at the realization she was positively clinging to him. Her cheeks burning, she instantly let go and stepped back to scowl at him.

“Where the hell have you been?” she demanded.

His vibrant eyes blinked down at her, rivets of water running down from his rippled forehead and beside his nose, his black hair plastered to his head. “Housing Beya and getting our supplies.”

“Damn it, I know
where
—”
Guess I can stop pointing the damn light!
“Anyhow . . . I’m glad you’re okay.”

He shook the hair out of his eyes. “Did you worry for me?”

“No,” she said instantly. “I knew you were fine.”

“I was greatly concerned for you,” he rumbled. “I feared you would come to harm while I was away from you, that I would not be at hand when you needed me.” His full mouth curved into a smile, his eyes warm. “I thank the All Mother you are safe, Summer.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “Well, I’m . . . fine. I uh—” She tore her gaze from those earnest blue eyes and indicated the packs he carried. “Lemme give you a hand.”

“I am more than capable of carrying such a light load,” he growled, pulling back in offense. “I am strong. I have trained for such things for many years.”

“Look, I’m not disparaging your warrior-ness here. I’m just being polite by offering to help, okay?” Summer folded her arms. “But if you don’t want my help, fine by me.”

He searched her face for a moment and his expression softened again. “If this is a human way of being gracious”—he inclined his head, a little guardedly—“I thank you for it.”

“Well—” Summer cleared her throat. “I guess . . . you’re welcome.”

He swung a pack—the tiniest of them—off from his shoulder and offered the strap to her. “You may take this one.”

It was a water pouch, smaller than her J.Crew leather handbag, and Summer bit the inside of her cheek to keep back a smile.

“Sure.” It was lighter than her bag—usually crammed full of crap—was too. “Happy to.”

He set down the rest of the packs, sending a quick glance about. “Was there any difficulty during my absence?”

“Nope. Just me, sitting on a rock, with a flashlight, in a cave.”

“This is not the foresting I hoped to provide you.” Ke’lar gave her a wry smile. “It was to be starlight and roasting meat, not cavern walls and emergency supplies.”

“Oh, I really wish you hadn’t said ‘roasting meat.’” Summer mock-sighed. “I’m starving.”

“I will have a meal prepared for you shortly.” He sat on his heels, already increasing the speed of his organizing and unpacking. “But I must assemble the shelter first.”

“You’re going to set up the shelter in here?” Summer indicated the cavern ceiling and walls. “What for? We’ve got a roof and walls. We really don’t need it.”

“It will be easier keep a smaller insulated space warm than a large one that will leak heat.” He glanced at her. “I think you would prefer warmth to the chill of a cavern.”

“Well, you’re right about that.” She studied him for a moment as he laid out the equipment and supplies with practiced movements. “Need any help?”

“I am more than capable of accomplishing this task,” he said without looking up.

“I did it again, didn’t I?”

Now he did look at her, his glowing eyes puzzled. “Did what?”

“Offended you.”

“Yes,” he growled shortly, two of the shelter’s thin supports held in his strong hands. “One of a warrior’s tasks is to quickly”—he connected the supports to each other—“provide protection and shelter for those under his care."

“Again—” Summer retook her place on the rock, since it looked like she would just get in the way if she tried to jump in and help. “I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to show some camaraderie, show that I’m part of the team.”

His vibrant gaze met hers. “This is how humans create affiliation outside one’s clan?”

She gave a half shrug. “I guess you could say that. You know, lend a helping hand—raise a barn, join in a taffy pull, give somebody stranded with a dead battery a jump-start. Humans like cooperating for a common goal.”

“That is true of g’hir as well. It is the bedrock of our enclosures.” His glance quickly went over the pieces of the shelter he had already laid out. “Those two,” he said with a wave at the thin metal supports near her feet. “Connect them.”

“Uh, okay . . .” It took her a while fiddling at it. He probably could have had the whole shelter built in the time it took her to get them connected. “How’s that?”

“Adequate,” he rumbled, holding his hand out for it.

“Never had a lesson in my life.” At his baffled look she gave a laugh. “I was joking.”

He offered a polite smile, though of course he wouldn’t have heard that before.

“How long did it take you to learn to do all this?” she asked. “Be a warrior, I mean.”

“Too long,” he rumbled with a huffed laugh of his own. “Training begins in the form of play as soon as a male child can walk but he is not named a warrior until he has hunted for himself for a year. I began my year when I was seventeen summers.”

“But you just have to feed yourself?”

“It is not as simple as it sounds, to feed oneself, to survive only on your own skills for an entire year,” he said wryly. “Nor as easy.”

“Why would you even do that?” she asked. “G’hir technology is tons more advanced than humans’. You can open wormholes in space and jump between solar systems in the blink of an eye. I saw a Betari warrior gored by a tarn come back from the medical center at Be’lyn City the very next day walking around like nothing had happened. You have medical knowledge that’s astounding.” She shook her head. “You wouldn’t catch me spending a year alone in the wilderness, and my culture is centuries behind yours.”

He gave a faint smile. “Females need not earn the right to have a mate in any case, only males must.”

“Decree from the All Mother, right? Ar’ar said something like that. Not,” she added, thinking of that first terrifying day of captivity on his ship, “that I was paying much attention at the time.”

He stood and it looked like that was all the help he was interested in getting from her since he seemed intent on assembling the shelter alone now.

Crap, I wonder if it sounded like I was disparaging their Goddess or something . . .

She cleared her throat. “So, to be named a warrior by your clan you have to . . . what?” she asked, hoping to smooth over any blunder by getting back to the topic. “Live off the land entirely for a whole year?”

“From one winter gathering to the next,” he agreed. “If you are successful you rejoin the clanhall as a warrior.”

“What if you aren’t?” she wondered. “Successful, I mean?”

He shrugged. “You die.”

Summer blinked. “You’re kidding.”

He met her gaze, looking completely serious. “Only the strongest must be permitted to take a mate. Especially now.”

“To breed healthy daughters and repopulate Hir. Yeah, Ar’ar—and his father—had a lot to say on that subject too.” She stood. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance my other clothes are still dry.”

“Yes,” he said, offering her the pack she’d brought from the Betari enclosure.

She took it from him, shifting her weight, and his posture stiffened.

“I will not look at you while you disrobe,” he said gruffly, turning back to his work. When she didn’t move, he indicated the rear of the cavern. “There is ample privacy to be had here; you will not lose your way.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, her face warm as she grabbed the luma. She wasn’t sure which would be worse—that he’d try to look at her . . . or that he wouldn’t.

The luma gave off plenty of light and while the cave was chilly it wasn’t nearly as spooky back here as she feared it would be. She put the luma down, angling it so it would provide her enough illumination as she sorted through the bag.

Ke’lar had been a perfect gentleman—no “accidental” brushes against her breasts, no gropes at her butt, no implying that after all he’d done for her she would owe him big.

But sometimes, when she turned her head quickly enough to catch his unguarded gaze on her, she thought she detected heat in those glowing blue eyes . . .

Stop being an idiot!

Even if he was interested—and in their many hours together he hadn’t shown a bit of it—the last thing she needed when she was busy escaping her alien warrior captor was to get something going with his alien warrior
enemy
.