Page 43 of Taken to Lemora
I offer him a gentle squeeze in the part of his neck where he’d been experiencing pain before. I’m good at stretching males and offering massages of medical quality. Igmora made sure I was. She thought this would be an asset for my future master and had me practice on both her and Tyto a hundred times over.
“I think stretching out your tight muscles might need to come after Moreth has a look at you.”
He nods tightly, eyes remaining closed. The pain radiating out of him like heat from a star makes my heart hurt and my eyes tear. “You might be right, miriga.”
“I’m so sorry, Jaygar.”
At this, his eyes do open. They’re purple in the center, unlike Raingar’s, and the outside colors radiate yellow and green, mostly. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
I’m not sure and shake my head. Small stones fall onto my body and more powder rushes in their wake as Jaygar is lifted off of me. I use the rocky walls boxing me in to pull myself up into a seat, and then I stand shakily. Willa’s face is the first I see and she shouts my name in terror once, and then again in what sounds like relief. Her hand touches her chest where I know her highest heart to be.
“Essmira, are you hurt?”
I shake my head. “Nob. I’m not. Jaygar saved my life.”
“Jaygar!” The roar is familiar and so is the rage behind it. Raingar bursts through the crowd, sending parts of it scattering. “Jaygar is the reason you were almost killed!” Raingar throws himself forward, but his left knee caves and he catches himself on the edge of the boulder in front of me. We’re separated by its width. I try to tear his attention away from the others, but he refuses to meet my gaze. And I don’t like it one bit.
Willa frowns at him and plants her fists on her hips. “Jaygar is the reason Essmira wasn’t crushed to a pulp by the kintarryoudislodged when you shouted like a kitling!” Her voice, which had been steadily rising, drops into a wicked hiss.
“Ifhehadn’t been touching what belongs tome,I wouldn’t have shouted.” His chest heaves. He takes a threatening step towards Willa, this time, and an unfamiliar sensation shoots through my bloodstream.
A bit darker than disdain. A bit more likehurt.
Betrayal. I feel betrayed.
Disgusted. I feel disgusted.
He said he was sorry, but now I’m not sure that he understands the word. But maybe, he was only sorry for hurting me. The thought is crippling. To me, his actions were understandable given his inexperience and my upbringing. What I didn’t like was that he treated me like a pleasure female even though he called me mate. And he’s doing it again by presuming that he owns me. And he doesn’t. I’m his mate. Merquin paid for me. And they don’t have pleasurers here on Lemora.
“You don’t own me!”
Holy stars. Is that…was that me?
Silence descends. Little whispers here and there light up among those gathered. The only ones really speaking at all are the small cluster surrounding Jaygar as they usher him onto a flat board and carry him quickly out of the cave system.
Raingar stares anywhere but at my face. He rubs his jaw and shakes his head violently. “That’s not…that’s not what I meant! I just meant that you were touching him and I didn’t like it…”
“I was helping him. He had a strain in his neck and I was trained to be able to relieve those kinds of minor aches. Is it not the duty of all Lemoran to help one another? That’s the impression I’ve received from everyone here — even you when you stood up to Igmora and Tyto, an Egama warlord, and an Oosa horde. Should I not do the same?”
Raingar’s chest is heaving. It’s like everyone else in the cave has fallen away. “You aren’t even Lemoran. You’re too soft. You are too easily hurt. You should just stay safe.”
Fury bites at me and I feel tears prick my eyelids. Raingar stares at my face in horror as the first tear hits my cheek. My shoulders pulse with rage and I look around wildly. There’s a purple stone the size of my fist among the detritus that’s fallen. I grab it and chuck it directly at the male who calls me mate but who doesn’t understand anything about Lemora, the universe, mates and love. About Xiveri. Perhaps, even less than I do.
I throw it at him and whatever stars guide my arm help me aim true for the second time. The stone clunks pitifully off of his right horn, taking none of the dark matter with it. “You,” I shout, more enraged than ever, more enraged than when he hurt me because this hurt isn’t superficial, like those wounds. “You arenotmy mate. You do not respect me. You do not trust me. You are just like Tyto.”
A quiet gasp is followed by a deep hush. Little pieces of kintarr tumble from somewhere down onto the floor, little rocks scattering against other rocks. Raingar huffs and harrumphs as he moves over the stones, but he’s too big to get closer to me. His face is drawn with terror, but the voice that was once Igmora in my head is utterly quiet. I don’t care if he’s hurt. It’s not my job to comfort him now. And I don’t regret my words, just that the clan folk heard them.
“I don’t mean to disgrace you, my Lord, we all know you make a fine clan chief.” Another tear slips out of my eye that I’m not quick enough to catch. Carefully, I edge myself around the boulder towards the cave’s only exit. “And I didn’t care that you hurt me with your big hands. We’re learning! I was upset because you treated me like a pleasurer and you promised me more and I was foolish enough to believe you. And now you’re doing it again.”
I take a shaky breath and stare deep into his eyes, past all those rings, to the frightened male inside. I know that he hears me, even if the rocky exterior is ready to strangle me senseless. “Scars prove you lived. I’m not afraid of them. What I’m afraid of is another shackle. I’ll die before I give up the precious freedom I’ve found here. Do you hear me, Raingar? I will die.”
“Is that a threat?” He hisses, leaning forward onto the block that partially sheltered me. His gaze shutters, the regret I thought I saw there gone. Once again, he’s the male I saw facing off against the Egama, only this time, I’m the opposing warlord.
“It’s a promise.” I back away from him with my skirt fisted in my hands and let the crowd form a barrier between us. They protect me, not letting him cross it, even though he tries. I use their distraction to my advantage and turn before he can try for a response. I hasten out of the cave, nervous when I hear grumbling and then feet pounding behind me.
“Miriga, do you need a pad pad?” And then relief. It’s just Willa.
“Yeffa,” I exhale shakily. “That would be great. Thank you, Willa.”
