Page 58 of Chieftain
“Khaion! What….” I went down beside him, knees painfully hitting stone. My words trailed off as I spotted the garish feathered dart dangling awkwardly from the side of his neck. I glanced around, spotting Nansar a few feet away, grinning smugly as he lowered a small gun to his side.
“Emmy.” Khaion rasped, fighting the poison. His body flushed with fever, a thin sheen of perspiration making him slick and hard to hold.
"It's going to be okay," I lied. The dark hair that I meticulously dressed this morning was askew, falling over his forehead, and I brushed it away with a gentle touch. I went to caress his face, but several Aljani guards grabbed my arms, yanking me backward.
The roar ripping from Khaion’s throat was terrifying, although I heard the weakness. Gritting his teeth, he surged forward, trying to dislodge the guard’s hold on me. The alien, who would have been no match for him otherwise, easily evaded the drugged grasp, bringing the hilt of his sword down atop Khaion’s head.
“No!” I kicked the guard closest to me and lunged for my mate.
Khaion’s eyes were shimmering, rebelling against unconsciousness. The hand he held out wavered as he desperately reached for me.
“Emmy,” he muttered, golden eyes rolling in his head. “My mate.”
I can never utter the words to make you my mate. To speak them aloud would be a prayer to Valana that will doom you.
Every muscle in my body went taut, like a spring pulled too tight. Everything was still: Nansar’s emerald eyes went wide, his mouth forming a perfect “O” shape. The ripple of surprise splintered outward from where we stood, and the hands that held me flexed in waiting. But for what? My heart slammed wildly in my chest, but only for a second before I felt invisible fingers tighten around the organ, squeezing it to stillness, and everything faded to black.
Chapter 17
Khaion
Death was peaceful.
The feel of soft hands cradling my body registered in my consciousness. It is said that the Valana carries righteous warriors to the afterlife in her arms. Not that I didn’t appreciate the blessing of my goddess, but I would trade it all to feel Emmy’s touch just once more. In answer to my wish, fingertips trailed from my forehead to along my jawline, leaving a faint tingle on my skin.
Emmy’s touch.
It is also said that Valana awards righteous warriors with their heart’s desire in the afterlife. There was nothing my heart wanted more than Emmy.
I forced my eyelids open, unable to focus in the muted light. Valana’s arms cradled me, my head resting in her lap. She made a soft cooing hum as her fingers trailed across my skin. In all my people’s images of our deity, she was tall and lithe, with straight hair the color of moonlight rippling like a waterfall down her back. Why, then, could I see the distinct shape of curls around the goddess’s face?
"Hey there, sleepyhead."
The voice wasn’t the deep rumble of thunder, booming with power and strength, belonging to a goddess. It was high-pitched and lyrical, sounding like the music of my home world.
"Emmy?" My voice was thick, holding such a nasty taste I wondered if, somehow, I'd accidentally licked the Kerzak as I killed him.
“There you are,” the voice cooed. Two small hands framed my face, and her head lowered, lips that tasted of sweetness and sunshine brushing mine.
My heart jumped but then bottomed out as memories flooded back to me.
It couldn’t be Emmy.
I’d killed her.
I remembered how her beautiful face twisted in pain as she clutched her chest. My words, meant to be my last thought, were unintentionally uttered as the drug swept through my body. The Valana took Emmy from me, but if it meant we spent eternity together… my eyes closed, wanting to savor this moment. My heart sang a grateful prayer, even though my mind ruminated on knowing I didn’t deserve this. Emmy was dead due to my weakness.
"Hey, wake up, sleepyhead," the apparition sang again.
And pinched me.
One thing I recalled from legends regarding the afterlife… it wasn’t supposed to hurt. The way those tiny fingers tweaked the skin near my nipple sent a sharp ache zinging across my chest, enough to consider that perhaps I wasn’t dead. The protest of my muscles as I pushed into a prone position was further clarification. My skin felt raw in places, and I ran myhand across where the memory of the Kerzak’s claws hit home. The wounds on my chest and arms had been cleaned and dressed with sticky antiseptic gel.
“Hey there.”
Blinking rapidly, I focused first on the riot of flame-colored curls moving downward over her beautiful pale face. There looked to be a bruise forming along her jawline. I'd figure out who I needed to kill for that later. The only important thing was that she was alive and smiling.
I jerked her against my chest, hands roaming over her body as I searched for any sign of injury. “Emmy,” I groaned, burying my face in the floral scent of her hair. “I thought… I thought I’d killed you.”
