War Bride (Battle Born Book 7) (7 page)

She understood what he was saying and yet she’d never experienced anything similar. “Is your life so unfulfilling that only magic will satisfy you?” She hadn’t meant to mock him, but sarcasm was her go-to weapon whenever she felt vulnerable.

His gaze narrowed again and his nostrils flared. “Without magic, my life is incomplete. The need is instinctual.”

Rodymia had been founded by Bilarrians who were unable to manipulate magic. Life on Bilarri revolved around paranormal abilities, so the original outcasts felt disenfranchised and ignored. Claiming a planet of their own and developing technologies that mimicked Bilarrian abilities pacified the disgruntled exiles for a time. But centuries passed and the Rodytes grew restless and resentful.

“How many generations has your family been without magic?” The question would likely annoy him, but that seemed unavoidable. They were debating the issues that had driven their planets to war.

“It’s been four generations since anyone in my family could manipulate magic.” He drained the remainder of his wine then set the glass aside. “I’m sure you see that as a justification for abandoning the fight. I, on the other hand, can’t help wondering how different our lives would have been if we’d been allowed to remain on Bilarri. We might have—”

“What are you talking about? Your ancestors weren’t forced to leave Bilarri. They
chose
to find another planet rather than abiding by our laws.”

He sneered. “What utter nonsense. My ancestors were exiled, driven from their homes and forced to depart with whatever they could carry on their backs.”

She shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. Your ancestors were Bilarrian. Why would they have been kicked off their own planet?”

“Because they were ‘tainting’ the bloodlines, spreading their weakness like a cancer.” Bitterness snapped through every syllable. Even though he’d been taught inaccuracies and half-truths, he obviously believed every word.

“I think we need to agree to disagree,” she suggested in a calm, clear voice. “Your view of history differs greatly from mine.”

“No doubt. Unfortunately, history shaped this war and this war gave birth to the war bride concept. If you ever hope to understand me, you must understand the reasons I keep fighting.”

He had a point. If she analyzed his decisions from a Bilarrian perspective, his actions would seem irrational. “For the sake of argument, let’s suppose that your people were ejected by force. How does that justify the rest?”

“Let’s use my family as an example.” When she didn’t object, he continued. “On Bilarri my family had wealth and enviable positions. Despite our inability to manipulate magic, it was likely my ancestors would have been able to attract mates with magical abilities. Within a generation or two, it’s also likely that the ‘weakness’ in my bloodline would have been corrected.”

If what he said was true, she could see why he’d be bitter. But Bilarrian history told a very different tale. Rather than argue with him, she simply waited for him to continue his story.

“But that’s not what happened. On Rodymia, we were surrounded by other bloodlines that had lost the ability to manipulate magic. Instead of rebuilding our bloodline, we had no choice but to reinforce the weaknesses and abandon any hope of ever feeling magic flow through us again.”

“I understand what you’ve told me,” she said carefully. “How did these events lead to the capture of war brides?”

“We were desperate and enraged that Bilarrians could be so cruel.”

“So you took out your frustration on helpless females?”

His scoff was harsh and hollow. “There is no such thing as a helpless Bilarrian, male or female.”

Gods, how she wished that were true. She had abilities many considered extraordinary, yet each skill was passive. None would help defend her against this brute.

A long, silent pause stretched between them. She was scrambling for something to say when he asked, “Did that answer your questions? Do you understand me now?” Apparently, uninterested in her answer, he turned his head and stared off into the distance.

The sarcasm in his tone angered her enough to silence her inner warnings. He was the enemy, determined to bend her to his will. Why shouldn’t she use every tool at her disposal? She poured energy into her empathic receptors and carefully slipped into his mind. Rather than mining for specific thoughts, she scanned his emotions, curious to see what lay beyond his emotionless mask.

Anger and frustration blazed into her mind, momentarily robbing her of breath. How was it even possible to suppress such intensity? She inhaled slowly, filtering out the strongest emotions so she could study the seething combination underneath. Guilt, sorrow, and loneliness twisted around each other in an ever-changing mixture of misery. He was in pain, had been in pain for years, perhaps decades.

The last thing she wanted was to feel sorry for this man, so she eased out of his mind. A name echoed through his memory, momentarily halting her withdrawal.
Arton
. Woven through the name was a poignant blend of feelings. Frustration, regret, and an aching sort of helplessness. Whoever Arton was, Kryton cared about him or her deeply.

“Who is Arton?” The question slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

His head snapped back around and their gazes collided. “Where did you hear that name?”

She started to blame it on Tonn, but she’d already incriminated him once and he’d been nothing but kind to her. Using Kryton’s favorite strategy, she simply ignored the question.

He stood and walked toward her, his blue phitons glowing. “Did Tonn speak that name?”

“No.” She couldn’t allow an innocent to take the blame for her. “I…”

His hands closed around her upper arms and he drew her to her feet. “You read my mind.” She didn’t deny it. “There was no mention of this in my research. What else can you do?”

“We’re enemies.” She looked into his eyes, refusing to cower even though inside she was shaking. “Why would I tell you anything?”

“Because we’ll resume our battle of wills if you don’t.”

He’d already guessed that she could scan. Offering him the details of that ability might keep him from pressuring her to reveal her other, more interesting, abilities. “I’m better at discerning emotions than specific thoughts. We call the ability scanning.” Actually, scanning was a general term for a multitude of skills. Some Bilarrians could ‘scan’ objects as well as people.

The pain she’d sensed within his mind flashed into his eyes as he whispered, “Arton is my son, but that’s all I’ll say about him.”

He’d spoken of his mate in the past tense, yet Arton still resided in the present. If the child was alive, why did thoughts of him cause Kryton so much pain?

“I’m sorry I scanned you.” When he did nothing but stare back at her, she added, “It won’t happen again.”

His fingers tightened against her arms. She thought he’d yank her closer and resume their battle of wills. Instead, he pushed her back and let go. “I’ll send Tonn to clean up the mess. Don’t open the door for anyone else.”

As promised, Tonn arrived a short time later and cleared away the dishes. “Was something wrong with the food?” He glanced at her then went back to shoveling the uneaten entrees into the recycling unit.

“We were distracted.” The word didn’t begin to describe the conflict building between her and Kryton, but it was the best she could do right now.

Tonn released a snorty sort of laugh. “I just bet you were.”

She tried to assist him, but he wouldn’t let her. Finally tired of being shooed away, she stood back and watched as he worked. “Why are you the only one he trusts to come near me?”

Tonn’s brows arched as he paused to look at her. “Would you rather have someone else?”

“No. I was just wondering why he trusts you more than anyone else. Are you related or something?”

“I’ve known General Lux longer than you’ve been alive.”

She wasn’t sure if he realized he’d repeated the blunder or if he just didn’t care if she knew. Either way, she didn’t point it out to him. “Were you around when his son was born?”

He turned from the recycler, clearly shocked by the question. “He told you about his son?”

She chose her words carefully. If she played this right, she might be able to draw out more information by inferring she knew more than she did. “His name is Arton and his mother passed beyond.” It was a guess. She didn’t know for sure that Kryton’s chosen mate had been Arton’s mother. But it made sense that the two sources of sorrow were connected. “Did she die in childbirth? Is that why it’s so painful for Kryton to speak of him?”

“I can’t believe he told you anything about Arton. Kryton never speaks of his son.”

“Why? If Arton is alive, wouldn’t that help ease the pain of losing his
morautu
?”

Tonn shook his head, astonishment clear in his expression. “He told you about Jiatta too? This is extraordinary.”

She moved closer to Tonn and lowered her voice to barely above a whisper. “He only told me enough to completely confuse me.” She sighed and glanced away then looked deep into his eyes as she said, “I want to understand him better. Will you please explain what it all means?”

Motioning her back to the table he’d just cleared, they sat across from each other. “I’m only sharing any of this because he brought it up first. It’s vitally important that he never know I told you.”

“I understand and appreciate the risk you’re taking.”

Even with her sincere assurance, he hesitated. “Kryton was very different while Jiatta was still alive. You wouldn’t have recognized him. He laughed and smiled, told jokes and plotted mischief. He would have done anything for her.”

Not wanting to distract him, she simply nodded.

“They were ecstatic when Jiatta realized she was going to have his baby. They’d been mated for two years and had begun to wonder if something was wrong.”

“Did something go wrong with the pregnancy?”

“In a way.” Tonn averted his gaze and began to fidget. “Arton was born with harbinger coloring.” His eyes shifted back toward her as he asked, “Do you understand what that means?”

There were no harbingers on Bilarri. Though she also had prophetic dreams and could see into the future, she wasn’t controlled by a ruthless guild. She’d heard horror stories about Harbinger Guild. They were secretive and self-serving. And worst of all, they claimed any child born with silver hair and silver-ringed blue eyes regardless of the parents’ objections. She couldn’t imagine why Rodyte authorities allowed such things to take place. It was barbaric.

“Harbingers came and took the baby?” She was almost afraid to ask.

“Not exactly. Kryton managed to hide Arton from the guild for a little over five years. Kryton’s still not sure how they found out.”

“And there was nothing Kryton could do to stop them from taking the boy?”

Tonn shook his head, looking pained by the memories. “He wasn’t there when it happened. I’m sure the harbingers planned it that way.”

“Did he try to get Arton back? Couldn’t he just storm their stronghold and demand his release? Kryton is a general, for creation’s sake.”

“He tried everything you can imagine, but Harbinger Guild is armed with more than prophetic dreams. They employ a variety of mercenaries from all over the star system. Harbinger Academy is a fortress. Kryton is a favorite of the crown, but even that connection couldn’t force Harbinger Guild to give him back his son. The guild’s right to potential harbingers was established in laws a long time ago.”

“What?” She’d known the details would be unpleasant, but her stomach was tied in knots and her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. “There are laws giving Harbinger Guild the right to steal children from their families?”

“Only those with Harbinger coloring.” His resentful tone assured her he was not defending the practice in any way.

“Why is their coloring so important?”

He seemed surprised that she didn’t know. “Harbingers are a side effect of genetic manipulation. The anomaly that gives them their powers also results in their unusual coloring.”

“Does everyone with silver hair and blue eyes end up with prophetic abilities?”

He shook his head. “The ones who develop their powers naturally are known as organic harbingers. They tend to be more powerful—and more unstable—than transformed harbingers, which are those created through genetic manipulation.”

Rodytes had been manipulating DNA for decades, often with horrific results. Bilarrians, Skyla included, found the practice appalling. “Is Arton still with the harbingers?”

Again Tonn nodded. “His abilities are unique and exceptional, so the guild elders guard him like a priceless treasure. Despite all of Kryton’s attempts to rescue Arton, it’s been twelve years since Kryton last saw his son.”

She pressed her hand over her heart, unable to ease the ache. Those bastards had robbed Kryton of his son’s childhood. Even if they rescued Arton now, he was nearly grown. “No wonder he’s so…intense.” Tonn had no reply, so she risked another question. “How did Jiatta die?”

“She was murdered by one of Kryton’s enemies. Kryton hunted down everyone who was there and killed them, but he still blames himself for not protecting his
morautu
.”

Skyla wasn’t sure which story was sadder. Each left her feeling empty and miserable. “Thank you. This helps a lot.”

He inclined his head. “Why do you want to understand him better?” A hint of challenge threaded through the question.

Confiding in Tonn was foolish. Obviously he was close to Kryton, likely more friend than subordinate. There was a distinct possibility that Tonn’s kindness was part of Kryton’s overall strategy, but she had no one else. “If he were the beast he pretends to be, he would have taken what he wanted last night. I’m hoping I can reach the man beneath the anger.”

Tonn’s lips bowed into a secretive smile, but he didn’t respond to her comment. “His mood was particularly dark when he summoned me. Now I understand why. It’s doubtful he’ll return. You should get some sleep.”

The door closed behind Tonn, and Skyla’s heart dropped into her belly. Was she disappointed or relieved? She honestly wasn’t sure. She’d thought knowing why Kryton was so angry, so bitter, would help her deal with him. All it did so far was make her feel sorry for him. A reaction that would enrage him, no doubt.

She was too agitated to sleep. This was only her second day as a captive and already she was irritable and restless. How in creation was she going to survive nine months or longer? Kryton had promised that things would be different as soon as she surrendered to their attraction. But surrendering to a Rodyte went against her basic nature and everything she’d been taught to believe.

An exasperated sigh shuddered out as she sank onto one corner of the couch. She kicked off her shoes and drew her legs up under her skirt. Tonn’s explanation left her with more questions than answers. First and foremost, how could a man who had experienced having a child forcibly torn from his life ever consider doing the same thing to someone else?

Ever since her dreams revealed that she would be captured by a Rodyte, she’d been most bothered by the thought of losing her son. Kryton’s obvious aversion to rape gave her a security she hadn’t expected to have once she became his prisoner. Yet their genetic compatibility was a complication she’d never even considered. The game was rigged against her. Succumbing to his seduction was all but inevitable, but how would she live without her little boy?

Anger built within her like an ancient engine building up steam. Confronting Kryton in person would incriminate Tonn. But there was another possibility. She was a dream walker. She could slip into Kryton’s dreams and interact with his mind. It would give her the freedom she needed to explore his reactions and emotions. Anything could happen in dreams, so it was doubtful he’d question her knowledge of his mate and little boy.

A pang of guilt made her pause. She’d promised him that she wouldn’t scan him without his permission. She’d said nothing about dream walking. Besides, he’d
kidnapped
her. Surely that entitled her to a little misbehavior.

She rolled her shoulders then scooted down until she lay across the cushions. It had been several months since she dream shared with anyone, but she’d mastered the skills long ago. She took a deep breath and cleared her mind, releasing the tension and silencing all the questions. Once she achieved a calm sort of emptiness, she projected her being across the metaphysical plane, using Kryton’s image to guide her.

Locating him was easy. Already their spirits had connected. Her soul sensed a potential mate and was drawing her toward him, making resistance harder with each encounter. Unfortunately, Kryton was brooding rather than sleeping, so she released the trance with a frustrated sigh.

She read for an hour at the work station then tried again, but Kryton was still awake.

After finishing the book and wandering around the cabin, examining every corner of her new cage, she finally felt drowsy. So she went to the bedroom, decreased the lighting to a faint glow, then undressed. Sleepwear was the only garment Tonn had neglected, but Skyla didn’t care. As long as she was sleeping alone, naked was fine with her.

As her mind settled down and she waited for sleep to claim her, she decided to try connecting with Kryton one last time. His churning energy drew her toward him, the path even easier to navigate than it had been before. An image appeared in her mind, growing more detailed and more tangible as she opened herself to the connection. It was imperative that she match her energy to his or he would sense her presence in his dream.

She hovered beyond the scene for a moment, observing rather than participating in the dream. He stood beside a bed wearing only his uniform pants. His big body blocked her view of the person lying on the bed, but they were bound both hands and feet, open and helpless before him.

“Are you finally going to end these foolish games?” His voice sounded gruff and demanding.

She eased around him, knowing what she’d find, yet unprepared for the impact of the image. She saw herself spread-eagled, naked, and trembling. But she looked flushed and hungry rather than terrified.

Unwilling to let his idea of her ruin this opportunity, she sank into her image and took control. “I didn’t start ‘these games’. You did.”

He bent one knee on the bed then paused. “Why do you continue to resist? I know you want me. Even now, I can smell your arousal. Why are you still afraid?”

“I’m not afraid. It has never been fear that holds me back.”

“Then what? Why do you still refuse me?”

“Our son.” Revealing this much might be foolish, but it was the only tactic available to her. “I don’t want to be separated from our son.”

“Son?” Now he sounded tense and disbelieving. His knee was mere inches from her side and yet he made no move to touch her. “Why are you so certain you’ll bear me a son?”

“I’ve seen him in my dreams, just as I saw you. If we continue down this path, I will bear you a son, not the daughter you want.”

His expression hardened and his lips thinned. “You’re just saying that to dissuade me.”

“Open your mind and I’ll show you his face.”

“Bilarrian mind tricks.” He sneered and moved his knee off the bed. “Only a fool would allow such a thing.”

Emboldened by his subtle retreat, she provoked him further. “If I’m the one paralyzed by fear, why do you keep tying me up?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He crossed his arms over his chest, drawing her gaze to the sculpted perfection of is torso. Was he really this well-toned or was his appearance the result of ego. This was his dream after all.

“Why would you hurt me if I want you as much as you claim?”

He chuckled and strolled toward the foot of the bed. “If you wanted to wrestle, my love, all you had to do was ask.”

My love? Why would he use such an intimate endearment in his dream when he remained emotionally distant in reality? He unfastened the ankle restraints, so she held her tongue, not willing to risk provoking him again until she was unbound.

He released her wrist restraints as well then stood back and watched her. She sat and rubbed her wrists, making no attempt to hide her naked body. She wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject of his son. If she didn’t stay within the context of the dream, it would likely jar his subconscious and he would awaken.