Any moment now, he would see what he’d worked so hard for. Tears sparkled on her lashes and trailed into her hair from the corners of her eyes. Her breath came in short panting gasps.
“Don’t close your eyes.
Please
.” If she closed her eyes, he’d live to love her another day, but this was the ultimate fulfillment for him. The absolute knowing that he’d given her something no one else could match.
Her brows arched and a soft
oh
escaped her lips. Tingles raced over his skin as her body contracted around him and his cock erupted at last, pouring his seed into her.
And then it happened. Fringed by glittering lashes, her eyes grew round with wonder, the pupils constricting for the briefest moment before dilating until the iris was nothing more than a faint green rim encircling the darker pupil. For an instant, he seemed to catch a glimpse of her soul.
Joy.
Her joy was his reward and the source of his own contentment. He would die rather than leave her now. She was his mate. For now, and for all time.
***
To have lived as long as she had without knowing such ecstasy was even possible had Sara questioning whether she’d ever truly been alive before. Her entire being was infused with an inner peace so profound that her past might never have been, her future as yet unseen. Only the present moment existed.
Already, the moon seemed brighter, as though a filter had been removed from her perception of the world. The wind had died. The song of night birds and insects drifted in through the open window along with the scent of roses. She could hear Danuban quietly grazing just beyond the rose beds. She knew precisely where he was—each sound, each scent as sharp and clear as writing on a wall.
She lay on her back, relaxed and sated, gazing up into the glowing eyes of a man whose existence she’d been unaware of only a few months ago. How could she have known that something like this awaited her, just beyond the hill at the foot of the mountains on the shore of a crystal lake? She’d had no warning, no premonition. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment. She was afraid to speak or even move for fear of breaking the spell.
A loud purr interrupted the quiet sounds of the night. Cria yawned and stretched beside the bed. Sara didn’t have to look to know she was there. Her presence was as much a part of Jerden as one of his limbs. Still, she was thankful to know that even this disturbance didn’t alter the way she felt. Perhaps words wouldn’t ruin it after all.
“Can you feel that?” she whispered.
He didn’t even have to ask what she meant. “All the way to my heart.”
She gazed up at him, still unable to believe he was real. She’d known there were decent men in the universe—she’d even met a few of them—but to believe that one such as he could ever be hers and she his? Never. Not in her wildest and most hopeful dreams.
“Do you remember what you said about us
being
together would make us want to
stay
together?”
“Or words to that effect, yes.”
“You were right. I’ve been alone most of my life—had convinced myself that I
preferred
to be alone—and yet now I can’t imagine ever letting you go. Do I love you, or am I already addicted to you?”
She thought he winced. “A little of both, I hope,” he said.
“I’m sorry. Shouldn’t I have asked that?”
“I’d like to think you loved me. But Zetithians
are
addicting, and the longer you’re with me, the stronger the bond will become. You won’t go into physical withdrawal if we’re ever apart, but you
will
crave me, just as I can barely stand to be away from you.”
“You say that like it’s already happened.”
He nodded. “Didn’t you wonder why I came back so early today? It was all I could do to ride home and leave you here.” He smiled, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight. “You’re stuck with me now, Sara. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind.” She smiled back at him. “In fact, there’s nothing I’d like better than to spend eternity with you.”
“Sounds like love to me.” His kiss was whisper soft, his breath warm on her cheek. “I can’t ask for more than that.”
His careful withdrawal reminded her that they were still joined. When had that become something that felt so right she was bereft without it? She only missed him for a moment, however, for he pulled the sheet up over them both as he lay down at her side. The contact was every bit as sweet when he gathered her up in his arms. Once again, she was amazed that someone so strong could be so gentle. Safe and warm in his embrace, she drifted off, noting yet another difference between him and other men. He didn’t snore in his sleep; he purred.
***
Jerden purred softly as Sara’s breathing deepened and her body relaxed, waiting patiently until the glow of
laetralance
faded and was replaced by the scattered emotions of ordinary dreams.
Ordinary
dreams. Not terrifying nightmares or sinister illusions, merely untroubled images that carried with them no hint of fear or despair. He sensed nothing but joy, contentment, and peace emanating from her.
Only then did he allow himself to sleep.
Reutal let out a triumphant whoop following the announcement of Sara and Jerden’s engagement, and then snickered all the way through breakfast, eliciting the occasional glare from Zatlen and an almost continuous blush from Drania. Finally, Sara couldn’t stand it any longer and held out her hand. “Okay, Reutal. Check my essence. You
know
you want to.”
“Oh, no need for that,” Reutal said with a flap of his fingers. “I can see the bulge in the cat’s loincloth.”
Which, thankfully, Jerden was wearing—ostensibly to keep from nailing her while she made the pancakes. Or so he’d said. Sara had thought that one round of early morning nookie and a hand job in the shower would make that boner go away, but so far, it hadn’t. He’d even asked for her help in getting it tucked into the loincloth—though she suspected that had been simply a ruse to get her to touch him again.
Not that she minded. She was having a tough time keeping her hands off him as it was. No further encouragement was necessary.
Sara had never been intimate with anyone and hadn’t wanted to be—at least, not in a very long time. But that was changing. Already she looked forward to spending another night with him—a night without troubling dreams to disturb her rest, a night with Jerden there to soothe away even her worst nightmare. She’d always enjoyed having a purring cat lying on her bed, but a purring man was infinitely better. His solid warmth was like a shield against anything that might harm her, and though the rainy season was over for another year, she knew that stormy nights would never be as frighteningly lonely again.
She could admit that now, if to no one but herself. She had put on a brave front in coming to Terra Minor alone, but there had been times when the strangeness and isolation made the long, dark nights almost unbearable. She’d improved with time, but the feeling of disquiet never truly went away—almost as though she sensed her past following her, even across the expanse of space between Earth and her new home.
Having Bonnie as a neighbor had helped enormously. A fellow human wasn’t easy to find on this world, but Bonnie’s pioneering spirit was an inspiration. Bonnie had begun raising vegetables and enocks with a man as her partner, but had been deserted, only to hire Lynx and find love and happiness in his arms. The same thing seemed to be happening to Sara. She was having a hard time believing it was real, though.
She gazed at Jerden, his large presence far more comforting now than it had been only a few days before. Being able to not only tolerate his presence with her in the shower, but to enjoy it was proof of how far she’d come. He’d been grateful for the care she had taken of him when he was ill, but she’d really done very little. What Jerden had done for her couldn’t be measured and could certainly never be repaid.
Even now, he took Reutal’s remarks in stride. “Obviously I need a better loincloth—or maybe I should just give up and wear some of those pants I bought the other day. They aren’t as comfortable, though.” With a wink at Sara, he added, “Or anywhere near as practical.”
Sara shot him a quelling glance, which would’ve been far more effective without the accompanying chuckle. “Speaking of which, Jerden and I are going into Nimbaza for dinner this evening, and we might do a little shopping while we’re there. Do any of you need anything?”
Zatlen snorted. “A Norludian muzzle?”
“We can look,” Jerden replied, silencing Reutal’s sputter of outrage with a reassuring grin. “But I doubt we’ll find one.”
Drania dissolved into helpless giggles. “Probably sold out.”
“Don’t worry, Reutal,” Sara said. “No one is going to muzzle you here.” Norludians had often been persecuted on other worlds, and Sara wasn’t about to have Terra Minor become one of them. Besides, she liked Reutal. Aside from being very useful, he made her laugh.
And so did Jerden. Sara could see herself getting used to that.
***
Sara and Jerden were still tidying up the kitchen when Reutal came flying through the back door.
“The stallion’s sick,” he gasped. “Acting really weird. Stumbling around, drooling. He walked right into the fence and didn’t even seem to notice it. Then he went nuts when Zatlen touched his nose.”
“Holy shit.” The dishcloth she held fell from Sara’s nerveless fingers. Following a moment of near panic, her logical mind regained control. “Sounds like something neurological—maybe a type of poisoning.”
“Poisoning?” Jerden echoed. “You mean it was intentional?”
“Probably not.” Sara dried her hands on the seat of her pants. “Horses get into plenty of trouble without help from anyone. Better call Lowinski.”
Sara ran into the living room and flipped on the comlink. With fumbling fingers, she put in a call to the regional veterinarian, who, fortunately, was at the dairy down the road.
“I’m only a few minutes away, Sara,” he said. “Just try to keep him from injuring himself until I get there.”
Sara pulled on her boots and ran out to the barn. Jerden and the others were already there and had somehow gotten Danuban into his paddock. “Oh, God. He looks awful!”
Caked with sweat and filthy from head to tail, the stallion looked like a ghost of his former self. His eyes were hazy and unfocused and his normally fluid and effortless movements were now uncoordinated and weak. The tremors in his hindquarters suggested that he wouldn’t be on his feet much longer. Sara felt like throwing up.
The whine of a speeder heralded the vet’s arrival. Flying right into the barn, the speeder came to a halt by Danuban’s stall door and the little Rutaran man hopped out of the cockpit. Loping through the stall and into the paddock using his long arms to propel himself forward, he gave Sara a brief greeting and then whipped a scanner out of the pocket of his coveralls. “Let’s see what we have here.”
“Zatlen and I found him out in the yard,” Reutal said. “He was fine last night, but this morning…”
“He looks like crap,” Zatlen finished for him.
Sara held her breath while the vet ran the scan. Danuban seemed to be worsening right before her eyes. Drania rested her head against Sara’s hip, sobbing. Even the dogs were whining.
“Ah, hah!” Lowinski said triumphantly as he checked the reading on the scanner. “Got just the thing.” Without another word, he scurried back to his speeder and delved into the medication box in the rear compartment.
Moments later, he returned with an injector and a small vial of purple fluid. Loading the vial into the chamber, he then pressed it to the underside of Danuban’s sweaty neck. With a quick hiss, the dose was delivered into the stallion’s thick jugular vein.
“I’ve given him the antidote for juluva weed ingestion,” Lowinski said. “He should improve shortly.”
Sara gaped at him with disbelief. “Juluva weed? How the hell would he have gotten any of that? Even if he found it growing, there’s plenty of good grazing around here. I can’t imagine why he would’ve touched it.”
“Well… he
does
run loose,” Zatlen said. “No telling where he might have picked it up.”
“Juluva weed?” Jerden looked slightly bewildered. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a great natural insect repellent,” Sara replied. “But it’s toxic to horses—I made a point of eradicating it from my pastures and hay fields before I imported any horses. I still find a sprig of it now and then, but it’s never caused any problems.”
Lowinski nodded. “Fortunately, it takes quite a lot to poison a horse.”
“It could be growing on my place,” Jerden suggested. “He’s spent a lot of time over there.”
Sara was unconvinced. “Maybe. But you’ve been living here for several days now. Danuban wouldn’t leave you to go back there just to nibble on some juluva.”
Lowinski tried to hide a smile, but Sara saw it anyway. “He and Jerden have some sort of bond,” she explained. “He kept running away from my farm to go back to him.”
Jerden apparently had a different idea about the vet’s surreptitious grin. “Sara and I are engaged to be married.”
The doctor, who had simply nodded at Sara’s explanation, said, “Ah, yes… I
see
…” in response to Jerden’s comment.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Sara demanded. “My stallion is dying and you’re—”
“Now, Sara,” Lowinski said firmly. “He is
not
going to die. Thanks to Zatlen and Reutal, we got to him soon enough. He will recover.”
“I sure hope you’re right. Juluva weed,” she muttered with disgust. “It smells
horrible
. I never
have
understood why horses eat it.”
Not for the first time, Sara wished the local vet was a Mordrial, rather than a Rutaran. Scanners could only tell you so much, but some Mordrials could actually communicate with animals telepathically—a decided advantage in a case like this. On the other hand, the Rutaran’s strength and agility were useful when dealing with some of the more difficult patients.
The vet scratched his thatch of fuzzy hair. “Some horses develop a taste for it—it essentially becomes an addiction—and since the effect is cumulative, it doesn’t kill them right away. According to my scan, he’s been eating it for some time.”
Sara frowned. “He’s only been on the planet for a couple of months. I guess when he got loose, he started eating whatever he could find and decided he liked it. I’ve seen it growing in the northern mountains.”
Lowinski shook his head. “Oh, no. He’s been exposed to it for much longer than that. The toxin leaves traces in growing tissues, and it’s present in some of the older parts of his hooves. There’s a section of new growth that contains quite a bit of it, followed by a period of reduced exposure, then an older band where the concentration is even higher.”
Sara was dumbfounded. “How in the world could
that
happen? He came from Earth. Juluva weed doesn’t even grow there.”
Lowinski shrugged with an apelike gesture and a flick of his ears. “I can’t be sure, but based on my findings and what you’ve told me, I believe this was deliberate. He’s been fed significant amounts of the weed, then none—during which time he seems to have recovered almost completely—and now that he’s getting it again, the symptoms have redeveloped.”
“Don’t forget how he went crazy and got loose at the spaceport,” Drania said. “If he’d been fed that stuff during the flight…”
“And if he found none at first, he got better, but now it’s coming back.” Sara nodded at Jerden. “Maybe it
is
growing on your place, and he found it, and now it’s finally getting to him.”
“We’d better keep him confined while we check out my land,” Jerden said. “The trouble is, it might also be growing in the mountains there. We could never eliminate all of it.”
“Looks like his free-ranging days are over,” Sara said. “If we can’t keep him in his paddock, I may have to put up a force field.” She paused, wincing. “Which will cost a small fortune.”
Jerden grinned for the first time since the stallion’s distress was discovered. “I can probably help you with that.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.” In the midst of all the drama, she hadn’t stopped to consider the size of Jerden’s bank account. “Guess we can afford at least one force field, can’t we?”
“Absolutely. You’ll have to show me what that weed looks like, so I can search for it on my place.”
Her lips formed a moue of distaste. “It’s a small plant with tall spikes of orange flowers and gray leaves. Pretty easy to spot when it’s blooming, but it won’t flower again until the start of the rainy season.”
“Gray leaves? Sort of ragged-looking?”
“Yeah,” Sara replied. “The flowers are actually quite pretty. Too bad it’s so toxic.”
Jerden nodded. “I think I know the plant you mean. There’s a lot of it growing on the far side of the lake. I don’t think there’s any around the house, but Danuban could have found it quite easily.”
“Well, that explains his recent ingestion, but not the original exposure,” Lowinski said. “Any idea who might want to harm this horse?”
“Yes, I do,” Sara said grimly. “But I have absolutely no way of proving it.”
Now that Danuban was addicted to juluva, he would keep poisoning himself if left free to roam—which would no longer be an issue. After that, if he were to ever get sick again, Sara knew exactly who she would blame. A confrontation would serve no purpose, but if she were to toss the particulars of the stallion’s illness into the local rumor mill, it might serve as a warning that she was well aware of what was going on—and why.
***
Later that afternoon, Sara glanced up from her post by Danuban’s paddock just as Jerden flew her speeder into the stable yard.
With Cria at his heels, he strode over to Sara and handed her a wilted clump of juluva weed. “I probably pulled up a hundred of these plants, and there’s a lot more of it growing in the mountains. No wonder he got sick.” He smiled ruefully. “Sorry about that.”
“It isn’t your fault. Besides, how could you have known?” She nodded toward the stallion. “And he
does
seem to be improving.”
Zatlen stuck his head out of a nearby stall. “Which, having checked on him at least fifty times today, she would know.” With a weary sigh, he shot Jerden a beseeching look. “Would you
please
do me and the horse a favor and take her out to dinner? She’s driving us nuts.”
“What?” She gaped at Zatlen. “I know we were intending to go into Nimbaza today, but you expect me to leave
now
?”
Taking her hand, Jerden steered her toward the house. “Lowinski said he’d recover. Staring at the poor horse won’t make him get well any faster.”
“I know that,” she said. “But what if he has a relapse?”
“I’ll let you know if he does,” Zatlen said. “And I can call the vet just as easily as you can. Go.
Please
.”
“Oh, all right,” Sara finally agreed. “But call me the minute he starts acting weird.”
“Don’t worry, I will,” Zatlen promised.
“Come on, then,” Jerden said. “Let’s go get cleaned up. This is our first date, remember?”
“Yeah, right.” After subjecting the stallion to another moment’s careful scrutiny, she reluctantly allowed Jerden to lead her away from the paddock.