Challenge.”
Yur lifted his in agreement. “May the strength of our champions endure the length of the games.”
The warrior tilted his head back to drain the cup and seal the toast. Imhara swallowed the contents of her cup, then retreated to the table, placing the cup on the edge of it.
“So, Second, will the
Na’Reishi
lords who petitioned the
Na’Rei
be presented to me, or am I to remain ignorant of their identities until the decision is made?” she asked, relieved to hear her voice remained steady, and squared her shoulders to face Yur again.
He made her wait for his answer as Arek refilled his cup. “You’ll have the chance to meet them prior to the Enclave.”
“No names until then?” At Yur’s shake of the head, she feigned disappointment. “How many petitioned the
Na’Rei
?”
“Three. All
Na’Reishi
of standing and rank. Warriors in their prime.” Again his tone indicated he took pleasure in imparting that piece of information.
Two could play at that.
“I’d expect nothing less,” she retorted, and waved Arek back to her side, gesturing to her cup. Silently he filled it again. She shot him a sideways glance as the nutty odor of
k’sa
wafted through the air. “While impressive, a male’s standing and rank holds little attraction if he can’t fulfill his obligations as my mate.”
Mother of Light
, she hoped Arek was ready to play his role. She moved closer to him.
“I prefer a male with stamina and virility.” She trailed her fingertips across Arek’s broad shoulders. There was little give in the flesh beneath them. A pale scar stretched from his right shoulder to the middle of his back amidst fresh lash marks. A blade had created the raised ridge. During training or while on patrol? “I’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard. I’m afraid an older warrior might have trouble meeting my expectations.”
It was gratifying to see Yur’s posture stiffen. Had he forgotten she was nothing like the other
Na’Reishi
women? How typical of him to think she’d quietly accept a mating ceremony. One that would never eventuate.
“My forwardness upsets you”—she shrugged, a half-assed apology considering she had trouble containing a smile—“but my potential mate needs to know that I’m a woman of particular tastes.”
She wrapped her fingers around Arek’s arm, just beneath the armband, the sleek warmth of his skin as pleasing as the fine dusting of hair covering it. Brushing her cheek against his bicep, she inhaled deeply, drawing his clean, earthy scent in to her lungs. A welcome respite from Yur’s heavy musk.
“Tastes I enjoy indulging in. Frequently.” Imhara slid her fingers over the wide curve of Arek’s chest, enjoying the latent strength contained in his hard flesh, then traced the hollow dip of his collarbone. “As this human would know. Isn’t that right, slave?”
Beneath the tanned column of Arek’s throat, the rhythm of his pulse was fast. Pressing her hand flat to his chest, she could feel the heavy pounding of his heart.
When Arek didn’t answer immediately, she scraped her nails down the smooth slopes of his chest and ridged abdomen. His stomach sucked inward and goose bumps prickled his flesh. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his breeches. “Answer me.”
“Yes,
Na
Kaal.” That came from between clenched teeth.
Perfect.
Yur issued a deep-throated sound of disgust. While the inference drawn would be based on a lie,
Lady
forgive them, she didn’t care as long as he believed.
Laughing softly, she pressed her lips in an openmouthed kiss to the warm flesh of Arek’s shoulder, just above the armband. Salt and heat coated her tongue. He issued a startled gasp, his whole body going rigid as her tongue swirled over the faint ridge of a vein beneath his skin.
She peered up at him, unsurprised to see his blue gaze storm-dark, his expression pulled so tight the lines around his eyes and lips were white. Yet while he clearly resented her
Yur lifted his in agreement. “May the strength of our champions endure the length of the games.”
The warrior tilted his head back to drain the cup and seal the toast. Imhara swallowed the contents of her cup, then retreated to the table, placing the cup on the edge of it.
“So, Second, will the
Na’Reishi
lords who petitioned the
Na’Rei
be presented to me, or am I to remain ignorant of their identities until the decision is made?” she asked, relieved to hear her voice remained steady, and squared her shoulders to face Yur again.
He made her wait for his answer as Arek refilled his cup. “You’ll have the chance to meet them prior to the Enclave.”
“No names until then?” At Yur’s shake of the head, she feigned disappointment. “How many petitioned the
Na’Rei
?”
“Three. All
Na’Reishi
of standing and rank. Warriors in their prime.” Again his tone indicated he took pleasure in imparting that piece of information.
Two could play at that.
“I’d expect nothing less,” she retorted, and waved Arek back to her side, gesturing to her cup. Silently he filled it again. She shot him a sideways glance as the nutty odor of
k’sa
wafted through the air. “While impressive, a male’s standing and rank holds little attraction if he can’t fulfill his obligations as my mate.”
Mother of Light
, she hoped Arek was ready to play his role. She moved closer to him.
“I prefer a male with stamina and virility.” She trailed her fingertips across Arek’s broad shoulders. There was little give in the flesh beneath them. A pale scar stretched from his right shoulder to the middle of his back amidst fresh lash marks. A blade had created the raised ridge. During training or while on patrol? “I’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard. I’m afraid an older warrior might have trouble meeting my expectations.”
It was gratifying to see Yur’s posture stiffen. Had he forgotten she was nothing like the other
Na’Reishi
women? How typical of him to think she’d quietly accept a mating ceremony. One that would never eventuate.
“My forwardness upsets you”—she shrugged, a half-assed apology considering she had trouble containing a smile—“but my potential mate needs to know that I’m a woman of particular tastes.”
She wrapped her fingers around Arek’s arm, just beneath the armband, the sleek warmth of his skin as pleasing as the fine dusting of hair covering it. Brushing her cheek against his bicep, she inhaled deeply, drawing his clean, earthy scent in to her lungs. A welcome respite from Yur’s heavy musk.
“Tastes I enjoy indulging in. Frequently.” Imhara slid her fingers over the wide curve of Arek’s chest, enjoying the latent strength contained in his hard flesh, then traced the hollow dip of his collarbone. “As this human would know. Isn’t that right, slave?”
Beneath the tanned column of Arek’s throat, the rhythm of his pulse was fast. Pressing her hand flat to his chest, she could feel the heavy pounding of his heart.
When Arek didn’t answer immediately, she scraped her nails down the smooth slopes of his chest and ridged abdomen. His stomach sucked inward and goose bumps prickled his flesh. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his breeches. “Answer me.”
“Yes,
Na
Kaal.” That came from between clenched teeth.
Perfect.
Yur issued a deep-throated sound of disgust. While the inference drawn would be based on a lie,
Lady
forgive them, she didn’t care as long as he believed.
Laughing softly, she pressed her lips in an openmouthed kiss to the warm flesh of Arek’s shoulder, just above the armband. Salt and heat coated her tongue. He issued a startled gasp, his whole body going rigid as her tongue swirled over the faint ridge of a vein beneath his skin.
She peered up at him, unsurprised to see his blue gaze storm-dark, his expression pulled so tight the lines around his eyes and lips were white. Yet while he clearly resented her
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