Page 100 of Planet Zero
He was here. He was well enough to get up, walk around. Addie wanted to weep from joy.
The three amigos didn’t find his sudden presence quite as delightful. Chemmusaayl took a hasty step back. Chief Net’ok took a threatening step forward. Vuskas shifted the grip on the club he had on him.
Oh’nil’s hot gaze swung to Zoark and pinned him with its burning intensity. Zoark didn’t appear to be paying his tied-up, tortured brother any attention.
“I patched him up.”
Chemmusaayl narrowed his eyes at Zoark from behind the safety of Vuskas’s back. “You knew better than to go against the rules, cripple. You will be punished.”
“Go ahead, tie me up. Starve and cripple me. That’ll show me.”
Another bout of silence greeted his list of suggestions. Weakness, in itself, was punishment enough. The weak were pitied, often ostracized, but not punished. A little warped consideration, but here it was.
Gravel crunched under the heavy measured steps that approached. Addie rose to her feet and fought an impulse to cower behind Zoark, but quickly gave in and cowered behind Zoark’s back. He was so wonderfully solid, almost as solid as the massive Vuskas who came way too close.
They were the same height, actually. Zoark’s shirt always made him appear smaller, but now, side by side with one of the most powerful warriors, Addie realized that he wasn’t any smaller in size. His drab shirt molded to the rounded swells of solid muscle… just like Vuskas’s, and Chief Net’ok’s.
Her gaze sharpened. How had she missed it? How did the rest of them not see the power for the busted knee?
Vuskas’s large feral eyes kept Zoark’s equally feral face in its focus. “Careful, cripple. Nature gave you a long if not good life. It’s running out.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” Zoark responded without heat.
Chemmusaayl held his stick higher, flexing his body to a defensive stance as if to ward off Zoark should he attack.
“Get the pads off his wounds,” Chief Net’ok pointed at Oh’nil. He didn’t even look at Zoark, and spoke about him as if the man wasn’t present, “The cripple has been warned. Next time he will be beaten for his interference and his attitude.”
Chemmusaayl slapped his stick against the opposite palm before he ripped the pads off Oh’nil. Blood welled and seeped, but the flow wasn’t as fast as it had been yesterday. The pads, temporary as they turned out to be, had helped.
The tied man showed no reaction. He never closed his eyes, never winced, never sucked in a pained breath.
But Qalae did. Addie heard, and so did Chemmusaayl who gave her a puzzled look.
The people had by now largely dispersed, and after Chief Net’ok departed followed by Vuskas and Chemmusaayl, Melmie materialized by Addie’s side.
“I was scared for you, Addie.” She enveloped her in a tight hug. “The High Counselor looked so angry.”
“I was scared, too,” Addie hugged her back, her spine protesting where a fresh bruise was no doubt forming after the encounter with the High Counselor’s stick. “I’m not sure what happened.” She gave an evil eye to the place where Qalae had stood only a moment ago.
Qalae had acted, which Addie hadn’t thought she’d do. The strength of her concern for Oh’nil had finally outweighed her fear of consequences and her apathetic self-pity. How she had framed it was another matter.
“Where is Oh’na?” Addie asked.
“With Chele, where else. Chele had her tied by the neck to a pole in the teepee. The Queen had instructed her to do so.”
“No! Poor Oh’na. Go free her, tell Chele it’s okay now. I’ll be right over.”
Melmie went, and Addie stayed.
Zoark was standing by her side. His face was set in its customary mulish expression and vague antagonism emanated from him like the kicked-back fireplace smoke at the weak draft.
She cleared her throat. “I’m grateful. Once more, you came to my rescue.”
“It needed to be done.” He sounded impersonal, like the Zoark she’d always known, not like the Zoark from the night before. Gone was the sensual haze of his gaze, now sharp and distant. Alert and aloof and slightly disdainful, he showed no sign of the breathless, shivering need that had throbbed under Addie’s hands, making her stomach tighten and her woman’s opening loosen in damp anticipation. She had kneaded his hard flesh and run her tongue along the length of him, her eager touch spreading the slick moisture that leaked out of him with each thrumming pulse of his overheated blood…
It seemed like a dream.
She glanced at his face from underneath her hair. “I didn’t treat Oh’nil’s wounds,” she said quietly. “I wanted to, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.” She turned to look at Oh’nil who was well within earshot. “I was too afraid.”
