Page 25 of Warrior's Captive
“Vivian, take a deep breath. I’ll let you go when I know you’re calm.”
Her surge of rage found a target. “You don’t get to tell me how to feel. You don’t get to tell me how to react! Now let. Me. Go!”
“Do I need to seal the balcony off, Vivian?”
His steely tone, the tension in his still body, pierced her welling panic. “You think—you think I’m going to . . .” she couldn’t say the words.
Tai’ri said nothing.
“I wouldnever.”She took several breaths, closing her eyes and forcing her body to relax. He wasn’t going to budge until he was certain she wasn’t a danger to herself. To his baby.
Just when she thought she was calm, she burst into tears.
“Oh, fuck,” he swore. “Alright. Alright, Viv.” Tai’ri lifted her into his arms and strode back inside towards the couch, sitting down with her in his lap.
“I’m sorry,” she said, struggling to calm the sobs. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Yeah, I’m not touching that one,” he said with a chuckle. But worry was under the humor. “Nothing is wrong with you. Cry if you need to,yadoana.”
He murmured as she cried, the same rhythmic syllables he’d spoken in Abeyya’s office. After a time the low chant leached away the worst of her stormy emotions and as she focused more and more on his words, found herself calming.
Tai’ri continued the chant until well after she’d stopped crying, and even when he was done, she didn’t move off his lap.
In fact, she realized she was leaning against a very naked chest. If she were less emotionally exhausted, she might have blushed. But as she shifted in his arms, she only noticed how well formed he was. Silky skin, strong, sculpted muscles. She must have awakened him from his own sleep.
“I should learn that chant,” she said. “It seems to work well on hysterical women.”
She felt lips brush the top of her head. “If you think that was hysterical, you should have seen my oldest sister duringherthird trimester. Wouldn’t use the word hysterical, though. Not to her face.”
Here was a man unfazed by messy emotions, uncaring of the mess she was making on his bare skin. Who spoke matter-of-factly about her outburst, sparing her pride. Willing to hold her and let her rage. Even if it was just his baby he cared for, he didn’t have to do this.
“Haeemah is a goddess of knowledge and self-mastery,” he said. “Her Precepts teach us to master our emotions and past traumas and achieve Silence. When Silent you are completely yourself, your actions governed purely by truth and logic and not by one’s darker nature. The chants help you to focus, allow emotion to flow through you until you are able to be yourself again.”
“Teach me the chant,” she said.
* * *
She had guards, in theory. Almost a week in Tai’ri’s home having not seen nor heard from one, it was difficult for Vivian to accept their presence. She supposed that made them professionals. It wasn’t like on the vids, after all, where they would be hovering at her sides in slick business suits, bristling with weapons and attitude.
After a mid-morning snack, and bored for now with the mosaic she was working on, Vivian decided that if Tai’ri was going to pay for guards, she should take advantage. A walk around the block would provide some exercise, fresh air and sunlight, and also test the limits of her invisible perimeter. She assumed that if she wandered too far, Tai’ri would inform her.
Leaving the house, the support band snug under her uterus, Vivian slowly made her way down the block. If they had any objections, they would—
“Ms. Huang.”
The disembodied voice came from her comm, and didn’t startle Vivian too badly. Her heart rate leaped for a moment, then she responded. “Yes?”
“Is there something I can help you with?” A female voice, neutral and brisk, but not unkind.
“Who is this?” Vivian asked.
“Banujani, Ms. Huang. I’m daytime point.”
“You can call me Vivian, Banujani.” She paused, looking around. During the five-minute walk, the residential block had given way to a small, circular shopping district situated like a cul-de-sac to support the community. There were several businesses including a cafe, a small grocer, what looked like an office of some kind, and a salon. “And no, I don’t need anything. I just wanted a walk.”
“Please wait. I’ll accompany you.”
Vivian turned. A tall woman with a smooth, indigo scalp and serious eyes approached. She wore the same loose, nondescript dark trousers Tai’ri often wore, tucked into flexible boots, and a long-sleeved shirt that molded to her torso tightly enough Vivian saw the delineation of firm muscles in her arms, shoulders and abs.
