Page 53 of Clan and Crave

His head down, Conyod made the turn behindthe building and disappeared. He didn’t look back.

* * * *

“It’s over,” Conyod told Sletran’s vid imagelate that night as he sat on the edge of his sleeping mat. Heswallowed, hearing how choked he sounded.

The Nobek sighed. “I wish it could have beendifferent. There’s a lot I like about Erybet, as a Dramok and a manand a potential clanmate. But if I’m not what he wants, it’s forthe best it ends now. I just wish you hadn’t been caught in themiddle like this.”

“Maybe I do fall in love too easily. It couldbe true I’m naïve to have let myself care for him so quickly.”

“Hey.” Sletran’s sharp tone woke Conyod fromthe morose mood consuming him. “You’ve done nothing wrong to feelas you do. Some men never give themselves the chance to let othersin their hearts, especially when love has hurt them in the past. Asthe Nobek you held out for despite the obstacles I put in yourpath, I’m impressed by how you put yourself on the line.”

Conyod managed a smile. “When I knowsomeone’s perfect, I know. Well, I thought I did. At least I got itright where you’re concerned.”

“We’ll find the Dramok meant for us, myImdiko. I swear it, even if it takes us two hundred years and I’mtwo steps from my deathbed when we do so.”

The idea of Sletran and himself, old and grayand tottering but still on the prowl for a clan leader, should havebeen depressing. Instead, the image of them sizing up Dramoks in aclub or bar as elderly men made Conyod laugh.

Sletran grinned. “There you go. Try to getsome sleep, okay? Tomorrow, you’ll be a little better. The nextday, a bit more of the pain will fade. One day at a time, myImdiko.”

“Who’s the psychologist here?” Conyodchuckled. “All right, my Nobek. I love you. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I’ll see you in my dreams.”

* * * *

Erybet sat holding a cup of dlas. He wishedfor a stronger drink, but he knew he wouldn’t indulge. He needed tostay sharp as desperately as he wanted to be numb.

High Commander Zyrf was determined to havehis rank reduced. When Erybet and Tox had spoken that afternoon,his lover had tried to play off their superior’s interview asinconsequential. Despite Tox’s efforts, Erybet could tell Zyrf haddug hard to find some reason to bust him down. It was probably thereason Tox hadn’t shown up to fuck.

“Assholes,” he told his drink before gulpinghalf its contents. “It never fucking ends.”

The funny thing was, he adored the worldinhabited by mostly Nobeks. Even the training camp he’d been sentto when he’d been mistakenly categorized as a member of the warriorbreed had been a thrill, as harsh as it had been. If his Dramokcharacteristics hadn’t come to the fore, making him so domineeringthe other boys had beaten him severely, he’d have been perfectlyhappy to remain under the Nobek banner.

The beating, which had happened just shy of ayear after he’d started training camp, had led to his parentsdemanding he be re-tested. It turned out his instructors hadalready been documenting their suspicions in hopes of lobbying fora second evaluation. No one was surprised when Erybet wasdetermined, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be fully Dramok.

He’d fought against being taken home. He’ddisregarded the trauma he’d suffered. He loved the active world ofthe Nobeks, the constant demands he prove himself worthy of being awarrior and protector. The harder the task, the better he likedit.

His campaign to remain in camp was impressivefor a six-year-old. “He’ll go far, wherever he ends up,” aninstructor had said in admiration. It hadn’t been enough for Erybetto stay among those who would have tested him to the fullestextent.

His parents had been concerned the trials ofa Nobek camp had somehow damaged him beyond the physical bruises.They’d sent him to counseling. At first, young Erybet had seen thetherapist Dr. Thyra as part of the conspiracy to keep him fromwhere he wanted to be. In a few short weeks, he’d come to adore theImdiko psychologist who listened to him with endless patience,care, and warmth.

Conyod reminds me of Thyra. Erybetblinked at the realization. No wonder he was so taken by the youngman.

He swallowed the rest of his dlas. It waslosing Conyod rather than Zyrf’s breedist machinations keeping himfrom sleep. Erybet was stunned at how much it hurt. Had he fallenso hard and so quickly? It seemed he had.

But Conyod was gone because he preferredSletran to Erybet.

“What’s so great about him? Yeah, he’s one ofmy best, if not the best of my soldiers, but as a potentialclanmate? What makes him a greater catch than me?” Erybet asked hisempty glass.

Sletran had struck him as standard-issueNobek. Strong, proud, dedicated to a job where he could bust headson a regular basis. Impressive in bed, sure, but where was heoutstanding as far as a relationship was concerned? He was stoicwhere Tox was passionate. Sletran was predictable. Tox wasspontaneous…sometimes too much so, which was why Erybet grewirritated him every few months and their relationship cooled untillust woke anew. But Tox was exciting. Sletran wasn’t preciselyboring, but there was such a thing as being too sure of a man.

Wasn’t there?

Chapter Thirteen

Erybet had no intention of talking to hiscurrent least favorite squad leader. As luck would have it, he andSletran crossed paths first thing the next morning. He had headedto his office early, and Sletran’s direction indicated the Nobekwas going to breakfast at the mess hall.

They slowed as soon as they realized theywere approaching each other. Erybet searched for smugness onSletran’s face as he nodded acknowledgement to the requisite bow.As was always the case when they were on duty, the Nobek controlledwhatever feelings he might have felt toward Erybet.

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