“I do want you, Sarah,” he ground out in a harsh voice. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I don’t know what our future will be like, and that worries me, but I can’t seem to care enough about that to give you up.”
She tried to push away from him, feeling suddenly vulnerable trapped in his arms, even as she also wanted to sag against him and let his strength support her. The conflicting emotions caused her voice to waver, as hope warred with caution gained from far too much hard life experience. “You want Farona. She’s the mate you hoped for.”
He released her enough to set her a few steps away from him, yet still well within reach of his hands. They shifted from her back to cradle her face, his claws tentatively trailing through her now smooth hair. He looked down at her face as if he was studying her features, perhaps trying to learn to read her expressions as she struggled to read his.
“Ever since we were born, Farona and I spent almost every moment of our lives together. It was simply understood that we would end up being mated. I never even considered it turning out otherwise.”
At the flinch Sarah wasn’t able to hold back, his hand tightened in her hair, tugging her closer to him, so when he lowered his head, his breath sighed over her brow, cool against her hot skin. “I had my entire life figured out, Sarah. Until you entered it and destroyed all my neatly laid plans. You’ve changed everything. Even the way I look at my own world.”
His lips stroked over her brow, his nose pressed against her hair. She felt his tongue flick out to stroke along her temple, as if the warmth of skin throbbing with her rapid pulse drew him to taste her.
“I resisted that at first,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, as if he drew his words from some dark well inside him. “I didn’t want to change. I clung to the idea of being in love with Farona, because loving you scares me. I am afraid you cannot love me back, because I am yan-kanat and you are nixir. The nixir that slayed the Ajda claimed to love her, until she bared her inferno to him, and he struck her through it with his spear. If a nixir cannot even learn to love an elder goddess, then how could one ever learn to love a simple yan-kanat.”
Sarah tilted her head upwards, capturing his mouth with her lips. She shivered as he hungrily claimed her mouth, his tongue flicking along her lips as his parted. Her own tongue darted out, brushing against his in invitation. One he accepted, his tongue slipping past her lips as he groaned.
The stroke of his lips against hers was masterful, telling her that the yan-kanat—despite their differences from humans—had certainly discovered the pleasure of kissing in their culture.
When he broke the kiss, she moaned in protest, realizing that she was clinging to him with both hands clutching his waist and one leg lifted. Her inner thigh pressed against the kilt-like garment that covered his lower body as if she was planning to climb him like a tree. To get closer to the source of that kiss, to have him drive his tongue deeper as he claimed her mouth, she just might.
He lifted his head, one hand stroking over her hair, smoothing it in a way that reminded her he had knocked the decorative comb from her hair as his claws dug through it during their passionate kiss. She’d only vaguely heard the soft tinkle as it struck the ground behind her, freeing the heavy mass of her hair to swing loose at her back.
“You did not say you could learn to love me, Sarah,” he said in a soft voice, nearly a whisper.
A wicked grin stretched her lips, still sensitive from his kiss. “I think you might be able to convince me. If you do more of that.”
He huffed with amusement. “Is that all it takes to please a fierce nixir female?”
Her gaze shifted from his face, trailing down his body. “I think I can think of other things that might also please this… human girl.”
“I knew you were a shataz, beautiful Sarah. You possess the kind of passion a yan-kanat dreams of in his drahi.”
She pulled away from him, her brows drawing together. “Did you just call me a prostitute?”
Hurt and confusion caused a glow to spark along her veins as she crossed her arms in front of her, as if she could defend against the implication of his words. Perhaps drahi for the yan-kanat was not what she’d assumed.
He looked confused as well when she withdrew. “Is that not the correct word for a nixir female with great skill and passion in the mating chamber? The shatazurans are highly prized nixir females that your males send armies to reclaim from those yan-kanat daring enough to steal them away.”
Sarah held up a hand. “Hold on. I think we’re suffering a translation error here. Human males treat prostitutes like they’re nothing but trash. In fact, ‘polite’ human society reviles sex workers where I come from. It’s even illegal, and yet somehow, it’s always the sex worker and not the client who seems to pay for the crime.”
He shook his head, his head spines at half-mast in what she was coming to learn was a defensive, uncertain posture for them to take. “I’m sorry, Sarah. This is not what our legends have said about the shataz. Even the female whose comb you wore was one such woman, and several human males tried to follow to reclaim her when she crossed the boundary into the urvaka with the yan-kanat who captured her.”
Sarah bent down to pick up the decorative comb, noting again that it looked like something made in the nineteenth century. She was no expert, but she would guess Victorian era. “I don’t suppose you have more information about this shataz, do you?”
Jotaha nodded once. “It would be in our museum if we do. She did not live within Draku Rin when she was here. Her mate chose to take her to live in the baselands to avoid….”
Her eyes lifted from the comb to meet his when his voice trailed off. “To avoid the bigotry, right? She wasn’t any more welcomed here than I am.”
Jotaha turned his head, breaking eye contact. “She would have been allowed to live here. Seta Zul decreed she was his drahi. She had a right to live within the skilev. It is said that she felt more comfortable in the countryside, away from others. There were many who were envious of her mate because her skills were said to be legendary, and she possessed the grace and passion of a titaness.”
Sarah quickly twisted her hair into a bun and tucked the comb into it to hold it in place. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Jotaha, but I am not a shataz. I don’t have much skill in the bedroom. I… I work on computers for a living. I design software, which probably means absolutely nothing here.”
“You create nixir machines?” Jotaha’s expression, his spines lifting even higher than half mast, told her maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t understood her English words as much as he apparently did.
“You… know what ‘software’ is?”
He straightened, swaying away from her as if it was an automatic reaction to move away from her but his feet wouldn’t budge. “The elder, Arokiv, is familiar with the nixir world. I have heard of ‘software’ and ‘comp-u-doors’ that make the nixir machines work better.” He lowered his chin, his eyes narrowed. “As Jotaha, I have encountered the machines sent through the boundary by the nixirs. Though they do not live long in the urvaka, Arokiv believed that I should have some understanding of their danger.”
“Does this mean you don’t want me as your drahi anymore?”