Primal Heat (28 page)

He was slowly going mad. He hadn't touched her in almost three weeks, determined to allow her time to heal, to come to terms with all that had happened without any physical demands from him.

He knew it was the right thing to do, knew he had no right to lay a hand on her ever again, but that didn't stop the cravings of his body, the clawing need that frayed his control.

The feral side of his nature was not enjoying being leashed again, but he needed to find some kind of internal balance. Logic and emotion, beast and psychic, they were both part of him, as Farid had said.

Kyber's hands fisted where they rested on his desktop and he bit back a groan when she drew closer. The traditional
rishaami
gown she wore clasped at one shoulder and left one arm bare. The gown made her look every inch the Sueni empress.

The door swished open again, and her new assistant stepped into his office. Kyber had insisted on her taking the young Kin as her personal secretary. Partially because she would need the help now that his advisors and assistants were again working for him instead of her, and partially as a safety precaution. The young Kin had had extensive warrior training and was considering a career as a Guardian. And Kyber also wanted to make sure she
always
had someone with her. A shudder ran through him at the thought of how close he'd come to losing her. Another moment, a single heartbeat later, and he would have been far too late.

The last few weeks had been frantically busy for her, he knew. He'd taken the fetters off his staff, stopped trying to prove he could do everything himself, and now she had more work than she knew what to do with. He wanted to show her that he trusted her to be his empress. She was needed, she was useful, she had a place here if she wanted it.

If she wanted him.

If they could break down the walls between them. He'd tried, thrown himself against his own wall, but had made no more than small cracks and chinks in the barrier. It was more than just the hurt they'd caused each other. It was Arthur, it was the guilt, it was…everything. Could she ever trust that he wasn't a monster who would hurt her again? He didn't know. Even if they were
both
willing, he wasn't sure they could connect again. Not fully.

He could only pray to Anun that she would be willing someday, would choose not to remain on Earth, would give them the chance, the
time
to see if they could rebuild what had broken. But he felt the moments slipping between his fingers. As soon as the Arjuns' Earthan sources confirmed a location for Arthur long enough to attack, the fleet needed to leave. They had to get back to Suen. They'd been gone too long as it was.

Jana braced her hands on his desk and leaned forward, recapturing his attention. She glanced at her assistant. “Would you give us a moment, please?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” He bowed to them both and withdrew, closing the door behind him. Kyber sent a mental direction to the ship to lock the door.

She wandered over to the wide windows that lined the wall behind his desk. “Just now, you were thinking about how you need to get back to Suen.”

“Yes.” He'd widened the cord between them as much as he could, but with the barriers at each end, only the occasional thoughts flowed back and forth between them. Unless, of course, they felt something strongly, like a vivid nightmare. He pushed down the horror that curdled in his gut. He rubbed the back of his neck, his hair tangling in his fingers. “First, we need to remove General Arthur from power. Bren and Farid are looking for opportunities to get close to him.”

“I know.” Her gray gaze flicked to him, but they were calm pools of silver that matched her clothing. They told him nothing, gave him no hope that he'd ever truly reach her. “Removing him from power is a nice way of saying you're going to kill him.”

He offered a nod. “Yes. One way or another, he will die for what he's done. To my species and to yours. People on Earth have suffered because of him, too.”

“Yes, they have.” Her shoulder dipped in a brief shrug. She bit her lip and her fingers slipped up and down her bare arm. He forced himself to look away. He wanted to kiss every inch of that creamy skin, wanted to strip the silver
rishaami
away until all of her was as bare as the one smooth arm.

Her full lips compressed and she stared hard out the window. “You'll leave as soon as Arthur's taken care of?”

“Of course.” Why would he tarry longer? He'd only come here for her. A pulse of her upset strummed along their connection, but he didn't know what caused it.

“I see.” Her head bowed, her forehead resting against the thick glass. “Your people must miss you. It's your mother who's serving as regent while you're here, right?”

“Yes, Empress Dowager Dhyaana.” His eyebrows drew together at the odd question, but better an innocuous conversation than horrible tension. Aside from the nightmares, the last few weeks had been far better than any since they'd first bonded. It was good to just have her here, to look at her and savor her presence.

Jana turned to prop her shoulder against the window and crossed her arms. “She was okay with you leaving everything behind and having to rule?”

“Not much upsets my mother. She's like Farid that way.” He chuckled, a flash of his mother's serious face going through his mind. “Though ruling Suen is something she's used to. She was regent from the time I was twelve until I came of age. She's ruled the planet longer than I have and done a fine job of it. I had no qualms leaving her in charge.”

She tilted her head, and her red hair swung against her cheek. “Farid's father killed himself after his One died. Were your parents Ones or just married?”

It was odd to speak to anyone who didn't know the entire history of each member of his family. Sueni children learned about them and could probably recite more facts and figures about him than he could remember about himself. He tapped a finger on the sleek metal surface of his desk. “It's not unheard of for Ones to be unable to face life without each other, but my mother is possibly the strongest person I've ever known. She lost her One, dealt with a traumatized child and a rebellion, and held everything together.”

“Never flinched, huh?” She hugged herself tight, her voice subdued, bleak. “She sounds perfect—just the kind of woman who should be an empress.”

He didn't understand the bleakness, but he'd talk about whatever she wanted to talk about. “Not perfect, but an amazing woman. She loved my father very much. I remember how they were together before he was killed. She was very different after that, sadder, more sober, but she never backed down, and that saved our people, our planet.”

Perhaps his cousin was right that it was his father's needling that made his mother loosen her control, made her laugh. He'd been so young when it all ended.

“She must miss you.” Jana sighed, staring out the window again, this time toward the planet below them. Did she want to return so badly, then? His gut clenched tight with dread. Her voice went soft. “I can't imagine going so long without seeing my parents.”

“I miss her.” He tried to smile and failed. His mother had been his touchstone for most of his life, given him a model of control to emulate, especially after they'd lost his father. Something else to feel guilty about, his father's death. He'd thought he'd outgrown it, but the cycle continued. He shook his head, groping for something else to think about. “Mother's only demand was that I bring home a bride and preferably a grandchild or two.”

“Or
two
?” Jana glanced at him for the briefest moment, her eyebrows arching. “She expected your One to be a baby-making machine?”

He shrugged. “If I had found you as soon as I arrived, and if I'd managed to get you pregnant right away, we could have had a child by now.”

“Yes. We could have.” Regret welled in her eyes and she returned her focus to Earth, refusing to look at him. He could see her face in the window's reflection.

Swallowing, he shifted in his seat, uncertain what to say. With the exception of his mother, there had been very few women he'd tried to connect with in his life. He'd never needed to. Without the easy bond he and Jana had once shared, he didn't know how to get her to
want
to stay with him. How to break through and reach her was a question he couldn't answer. “According to the royal vizier,
if
I survive long enough to father children, I'm supposed to have two.”

“Your mother might be disappointed with only two.” Jana laughed softly. Her chin tucked to her chest, her eyes closing. “And did the vizier promise that those children would be with your One?”

Every drop of blood drained from his face at the firm confirmation that she planned to leave him. He pressed his hands flat to the top of his desk to keep from toppling over with the pain of it. “No, he promised me nothing except that I would be emperor.”

But there would be no children, no life, no future, no hope without her. There would be only his duty, his throne, his cold, empty existence.

“Are these children supposed to be powerful Kith like you?” Conflicting emotions filtered through their link, hurt and longing and dread.

His claws slid forward to scrape against the metal desk, the sound sending a chill down his spine. He cleared his throat, forced the words out. “Yes, one would rule Suen and the other would succeed the royal vizier.”

She pulled in a deep breath and the emotions stopped flowing between them. Her tone was one of mild curiosity. “So, two boys, then?”

“No, a boy and a girl.” He watched her closely for reaction. Her sharp withdrawal from their small connection pained him, one more demonstration of how hopeless it was for them. He could read her mind but refused to stoop so low. She deserved better than that from him. She deserved better than he'd given her for most of their time as a bonded pair. He sighed. “I'm not sure which would be the ruler and which would be the prophet. It's not uncommon for a woman to be empress in her own right.”

She finally met his gaze again, and her expression reflected genuine interest. “So, it's the eldest child rather than the eldest male who inherits the throne?”

He shook his head. “Not the eldest child, per se. It's not even guaranteed to remain in my direct line—it can go to a child in another powerful family, usually related closely to the royal family—but more often than not it does run in the direct imperial line. The throne goes to the most powerful child in each generation. It's all decreed by destiny, fate.” He rocked his hand back and forth through the air, trying to put into words what was so obvious, so entrenched, in his society. “Though, sometimes the destiny isn't always clear, even to the most powerful vizier.”

“That's just…
nothing
like what I'm used to.”

“Our cultures are very different.” He appreciated that about her, her differences from him, her unique perspective. If she went to Suen with him, she'd never be the kind of empress his mother had been, but she didn't need to be. He just wanted her to be herself, and to be with him.

“What happened to your dad?” She rolled her shoulders. “I felt a bit of upset when you thought of him.”

Kyber swallowed, unprepared for the abrupt topic change, for the kick to his heart and conscience that came whenever he thought of the last time he'd seen his father. “He died.”

“I caught that part.” She arched her eyebrows. “How? I remember…vaguely…from when we first bonded that it wasn't a natural death.”

Bracing himself for the wave of guilt that crashed over him, he met her gaze. “There was a rebellion in the empire when I was a child. Ten, perhaps eleven. There'd been rumblings of one for years. There always are.”

“People wanted out and you wouldn't let them?” Her gaze narrowed and she propped her hands on her hips.

He snorted. “No, you have to work very hard to get into the Imperial Alliance, but you can leave any time. It's a federation of planets, not a dictatorship. This rebellion started as a protest against ill-treatment of Kin on one of the border worlds. Father was trying to sort it out peacefully but had little success. The behavior of the Kith on that planet was abhorrent. In the end, Father offered asylum to the Kin there and ended up bringing a motion to the Imperial Senate to revoke the planet's membership.” He pinned his gaze to the desk before him, the events of that time lasered into his mind as clearly as if they had happened yesterday. He had the sick feeling that his time of imprisonment with Arthur would be much the same. “The ruling Kith of that world did not take the news well. Thus the rebellion.”

She dropped her hands from her hips, her fingers brushing against her dress. “Did the senate kick out the planet?”

“The vote went through after my father's death.” A small, sour smile formed on his lips. “It was the first proclamation my mother made as regent.”

“How did they kill him?” She pushed away from the window and stepped toward him, her soft boots making her steps a whisper against the floor.

He let his head fall back against the chair, sighing. “You had to ask.”

“Of course. This is a big deal to you.” She settled her hip against the edge of his desk, her scent enveloping him and making the beast writhe with the need to touch. “I remember that much from the short time I was in your head.”

“Yes, you did see everything for a moment, didn't you?” And he wanted her to see it all again, to know all of him, to let him know all of her. How would he survive being bonded to her from across the universe? It would be a thousand times worse than when he'd merely sensed her from Suen.

“A very short moment. I don't remember much since we were busy with…other things.” She didn't define what other things she was talking about. Bonding. Sex. Hours upon hours of endless sex. Then her parents' frantic pleas for her return, then his capture, then Arthur and the end of their bond. So swift a conclusion to something so bright with promise. Their love had scarcely had a chance to live before it died. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes, a return of the bleakness. “Unless you don't want me to know. I would understand.”