Heart of a Warrior

43

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DALDEN'S SIGH WAS NOT A STRENUOUS ONE AS HE LAID Brittany down on his bed. He sat down beside her and carefully smoothed her hair back from her face. Such a glorious color her hair was, unknown on his world.

"Did she hurt herself in the fall, Martha?" he asked, concern thick in his voice.

"Like intoxication that deadens natural reflexes, fainters drop without trying to break their fall so they tend to suffer less bruising and breaking in the falling than someone who was fully alert."

"You did not answer my question."

"Oh, you wanted specifics?" Martha's voice turned dry. "She's fine, really. "

He could be grateful for that, if nothing else. It was everything else that was frustrating him to barely tolerable levels.

Martha had asked him to not follow his warrior instincts with his lifemate until she finally accepted him for who he was. But when would she? She was to have opened her eyes and accepted the truth when they arrived home, but still she wouldn't. Even the hataar she had discounted, claiming it an animal from her world in disguise. And the fembair had frightened her so badly she fainted, yet which animal would she claim it was from her world?

He was beginning to think his sister had truly cursed him all those months ago, when he'd helped to put her in Falon's control where she didn't want to be. She had been too furious to fully consider her words when she had shouted at him, Stars, I hope the female you finally want for yourself isn't Sha-Ka'ani, and that she never gives you any peace! It had been the worst thing she could wish for him, and it had already come half-true.

His woman wasn't Sha-Ka'ani. And her own stubbornness was going to keep an insurmountable wall between them. She loved him, yes, but not completely, nor would she as long as she continued to doubt who he was. This was already disturbing his peace. He had bided his time, though, had taken Martha at her word that Brittany would accept the truth once he got her home. That hadn't happened.

"Martha, have Shanelle come and collect her pet," he ordered.

"Not a chance," Martha declined. "The arrival of that furball was a good thing. I couldn't have planned it better myself."

"I will not allow her to be frightened again," Dalden said adamantly.

"She wasn't frightened, she just got a dose of shock too big for her to handle, no pun intended," Martha added, though she chuckled a bit. "But if you take Shank out of there before she wakes up, she'll just chock him up to another illusion. Let her get to know him, and there's no way she can deny him. Done deal. "

"Our arrival here was to have been the 'done deal'," he reminded her with clear annoyance.

Martha injected a sigh. "So I was a bit off on my estimate on the extent of her stubbornness. But she's borderline. She's clutching at straws now, and far-fetched ones at that, to maintain her disbelief. As soon as she realizes that the excuses she's coming up with to keep the wool over her eyes are more ridiculous than the truth, she'll open her eyes."

"How long?" he demanded.

"Practice some of that warrior patience that you men are renowned for. Give her one more week. Her 'project' scenario is like a security blanket to her. She clings to it because the truth frightens her."

"There is no reason for it to frighten her," he replied in frustration.

"Yes, we know that," Martha agreed. "But she can't see that far ahead. "

"I happen to have perfect vision," Brittany mumbled in a groggy, testy voice as she came awake. "Which is a good thing, since this culture probably doesn't have eye doctors or glasses, does it?"

"Welcome back," Martha said cheerfully.

"I'm not sure I want to be back."

"Do you even think before you say things designed to inflict pain on the warrior?"

Brittany's eyes flew open in horror as that question sank in. She located Dalden next to her. She sat up immediately, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Martha is way off base," she assured him. "That wasn't said for you, but for her."

"Yet is it obvious that you do not like being here," he pointed out.

"No, if we're going to stay here, then I'll get used to it. I don't have to like it-really. What is important is that I do like being with you. Where doesn't matter. I'll be happy as long as we don't get parted when this is over."

He set her back from him, said sternly, "I have told you there can be no 'over' for us. You are mine for life, as I am yours. Such is the meaning of a lifemate. When will you accept this?"

"I-I think I do. It's just that everything else keeps getting in the way."

"Everything, as in your persistent belief that I am not a Kan-is-Tran warrior from Sha-Ka'an as I have told you I am? What, then, am I?'

"You're confusing me."

"You confuse yourself, woman."

Martha interjected, "I warned you the warrior was assenting himself, now that he's home."

"Be quiet, Martha!" they both said almost at once.

He had stood up in his agitation. Brittany's eyes flared as she finally noticed the fembair still in the room, spread out on the floor near the bed. Dalden had been blocking it from her view until he stood up. She didn't faint again, but the fear was back.

"Martha, get rid of that one!" she said in a high, squeaky voice, that "one" being yet another illusion, to her way of thinking.

"Contrary to your popular belief, I don't have any control over the local population, animal or humanoid. You can pet Shank, by the way. He won't bite."

That didn't reassure her. In this case, however, Dalden could not fault her disbelief. A fembair was a predator, the most vicious flesheater on the planet, something he would refrain from mentioning. Those that lived in the castle were tame, yet anyone who visited there and didn't know that would have the same reaction as Brittany.

It wasn't easy to tell these creatures apart. They were a noninterbreeding animal, so there was very little deviation in their looks. They all sported short white coats of an exceptional softness, long sleek bodies, and large round heads with great blue eyes. And fangs. He'd never taken one for a pet himself because they liked to sleep in beds and he didn't like sharing his-until now.

Explanations usually sufficed-for a Sha-Ka'ani who would not discount the existence of a fembair, merely that one could be found in a town, inside someone's house. They could make their home in any region of the planet, since the climates didn't vary greatly, they just preferred the wilds, far from people and cities.

The people of Sha-Ka-Ra were used to them wandering in and out of their town, and found it amusing that their shodan had managed to domesticate such a wild breed. All of which wouldn't matter to his lifemate, whose disbelief stemmed from a different reason. He still had to try.

"Shank belongs to my sister," he told Brittany. "She raised him from a baby when she was but a child herself, so he is completely tame."

"If he's hers, what's he doing here?"

"It was a game from when we were young. I would lure him here with treats so she could not find him. It became a habit with him. He still comes here expecting treats."

"I-I hope you had some on hand to give him," she said, her voice still apprehensive.

"He is content with petting instead."

He sat down cross-legged on the floor next to the fembair. It immediately curled its large, supple body around him. He scratched behind its ears, under its chin. Purring began immediately.

"Come here," he told Brittany. A glance at her showed that she was adamantly shaking her head. "Come here," he repeated in a tone that would have made any Sha-Ka'ani woman jump to obey, but not his lifemate. "We are going to remove your fear of this feline," he explained more calmly.

"Just remove the cat instead," she suggested.

Martha scoffed at her. "You think it's an illusion. Since when can illusions hurt?"

That caused Brittany to frown. Dalden took advantage of her confusion to point out, "Can you not hear the sound of his contentment?"

She couldn't help but hear it purring so loudly it rumbled about the room. She abruptly left the bed, marched determinedly toward him, and squatted down next to Dalden, though still several feet from Shanelle's pet. He unbalanced her, and tugged her into his lap to bring her closer to Shank. She still didn't take her eyes from the fembair, not once, and her body was stiff with fear despite her determination. Courage his woman had, to charge ahead, fear or not.

He took her hand, guided it to the top of Shank's head, and left it there. She didn't pull it away. And having touched the animal, she now wanted to examine it fully. She lifted the heavy head, stared into the big blue eyes, measured the length of the two four-inch fangs.

"Sabertooths are extinct," she finally said in an awe-filled voice.

He knew not what she was talking about. Martha did and merely replied, "On your planet they are."

"Nor did they ever grow this big," Brittany said.

"Careful, doll, or you might convince yourself you're in a new world."

Brittany made a low growl and shot to her feet. "I know what you've done. You found this place and have somehow kept the rest of the world from hearing about it. What is it, something in the water here that makes the people and animals grow exceptionally large? Or genetic engineering? Have you actually tampered with nature here?"

Whether he could have answered her or not, Dalden knew those questions weren't for him. Whenever she came up with a new nonreality, it was Martha she accused with it. Never him. To accuse him would mean she would have to discuss with him her disbelief.

They had both been reluctant to do that, to "rock the boat," as Martha would put it. But perhaps it was time for that boat to sink. It was becoming painful, knowing that although she wanted to be with him, she wanted to be with who she insisted he was, not who he really was.

He needed advice from someone who had long dealt with an off-worlder.

He went to find his father.