Chapter Three

The confused haze swallowing her thoughts didn't clear easily. The room was quiet, except for the soft snoring of someone off to her left. Khamuel. Lena knew he had not left her side for any longer than necessary. In this dark, almost dreamlike state, she could accept anything, and didn't feel she was losing her grip on sanity. They could speak here. She could bask in his warmth and cling to him unselfconsciously. She was afraid that if she opened her eyes, she would learn every bit of their closeness was just a dream-induced coping mechanism.

Even though her eyes remained closed, her mind cleared, and she realized that while unconscious, she accepted her psychic tether to Khamuel as real; unafraid of it, although she was taught not to believe in such things.

She supposed it was a perk of being unconscious for so long. It allowed for her subconscious to come to grips with what now was. In just a few moments of wakefulness, Lena lost her fear of insanity, and even her disbelief of the impossible. What choice did she have? In order to get back to her girls, Lena needed to face whatever was happening. She needed to get a grip on herself and just open her damned eyes. She couldn't help but hesitate.

What did he look like? His voice when it was in her head was a deep, gravelly baritone, concise in his diction. He spoke an odd mixture of olde and modern English, and seemed like someone who was in the habit of thinking before speaking. Often, his replies to her were delayed as he made sure his words were just right. He sounded handsome. Which meant he probably wasn't.

Finally, she braved her first truly conscious decision to open her eyes. The room was barely lit with a pink light, but it was enough to send a brief stab of pain through her head as her eyes adjusted. Turning her head slightly, she expected to feel more pain, but none came. The only thing affecting her was the lethargy of being medicated.

There he was. Sitting so close to her bed, she could touch him.

Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes settled on him. No darkness to obscure his size or appearance. No loss of vision to hide his physique. She saw the man.

The very pearlescent man.

There was no other way to describe him. His skin, tinged with pink and grey undertones, glowed softly under the dim lighting in the room.

He. Actually. Glowed.

A pale, pinkish hue emanated from him, stretching only inches from his body.

Alien. There was no doubt he was an alien like Kiara, but of a different species. Despite his skin-tone, he looked remarkably human.

His head was slack against the back-rest, his arms folded in front of him resting on his diaphragm, legs out-stretched and crossed at the ankles. She recognized the sleep position. It was one she observed thousands of times in the military. This was a man used to sleeping in uncomfortable places. Was he a soldier? A mercenary? A space pirate?

Lena wasn't proud of it, but the thought of being kidnapped by space pirates as handsome as this man seemed kind of exciting.

His Nordic good looks surprised her; as if he belonged on some icy tundra dressed in animal furs and carrying an axe or sword. An Ice King. Metallic silver streaked through his pale white hair. Along his forehead was an artistic branding, the scars dyed in red and black. A small, thrilling chill ran down her spine as she realized he was the type of man that could suffer that kind of pain in silence.

At some point, his nose had been broken, and that small bit of imperfection added to his appeal. He had high, defined cheekbones, and even though she couldn't make out the shape of his chin as he had a full, well-trimmed mustache and bushy beard covering the lower half of his face, his lips were full and parted softly in sleep. He was gorgeous, not to mention large. He had to be at least seven feet tall.

Despite his vulnerable state, virility was a blatantly charged atmosphere around him. Even in sleep, well pronounced muscles strained against his form-fitting clothing. She had never seen a uniform like his before, but a uniform it was, similar to a police officer, but in a deep red, trimmed with black and gold and the markings were not ones she had ever seen.

He had to be uncomfortable. She thought about waking him, not wanting him to catch a crick in his neck if he slept like that for too long, but in her shocked state, couldn't get the words out.

Khamuel stirred, the branding on his forehead crinkled. Clenched in a fitful half-sleep, he tried to ease her concern for him. Even in his sleep, he seemed attuned to her just as she had been to him. "Rest, Farran. It will be morning soon enough."

She tried to speak again and realized her throat was too dry. The doctor must have dosed her with something, but even through the waning medical haze, she could feel his concern for her. She wondered if she was crazy. She could feel him, actually feel him inside of her mind!

I'm awake now. Lena felt a moment of incredulity. Did she just try to speak to him telepathically? What kind of drugs was she on exactly?

Khamuel's eyes shot open and his arctic blue gaze traveled over her features. Was it a coincidence?

"Nay." His voice was a deep rumble. "'Twas no coincidence. I heard you call to me."

"So, it's true then?" She forced herself to speak verbally. She worked her mouth a bit, trying to stimulate moisture and gain control. Her voice may have been hoarse and her words slurred, but she didn't care. Now that she had control of her faculties, she slipped into a lifetime habit of rejecting every bit of weakness from her body. "I really am in a spaceship, hurtling through the cosmos, with … space aliens?"

"The true matter is a bit more complicated than that," he said by way of confirmation.

Could a man's voice really be so deep and rich, so smooth and soothing and-

She cut her thoughts off, realizing he was probably reading her mind. "How long have I been out?"

"Out?" He tilted his head at her, but the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. He looked pleased with something.

"Incapacitated? Injured? How long?"

"Five dagaz."

"Dagaz?"

"Uh … days."

"Five days!" She sat up slowly, not wanting to upset her stomach again with erratic motion.

Khamuel rested his elbows on his knees, appraising her with those pale blue eyes of his. "I have wondered what meeting you for the first time would do to me. I am undone by your beauty. Your eyes are stunning."

If her body were fully functioning, Lena would have blushed. "I think …" she cleared her dry throat. "I think I remember you telling me my daughters are safe? They're with your sister?"

He nodded, still eyeing her intently. "When they are not with me, they are with her."

Lena liked the way he was looking at her, but she pushed the tiny thrill away in order to appraise her situation.

Lena licked her lips and shifted back to a more comfortable position. "When I'm out of here, I'll have to do something nice for your sister. I can't imagine a set of twins taking over her home was very easy for her."

Khamuel cocked his head. "They are in my grant. My sister cares for them there when I must oblige my duties to the ship, or visit with you."

Alarm choked her. "My daughters are living with you?"

"Indeed, lady."

"No!" she screeched, sitting up again, her body tightly coiled in anger. "Hell no! Why aren't they living with your sister? A woman?"

His brow furrowed. "I do not understand. They belong to me, much as you do. I am beholden to you all."

"Little girls shouldn't be living with strange men. Men can't be trusted with them!" She tried to rise from the bed, her state of agitation making her movements clumsy. "You have some nerve!"

Khamuel moved to the bed and laid gentle hands on her shoulders. "Be calm, Farran. You will harm yourself."

"Fuck you! My girls have been living with a man! I can't believe … oh, my God. You better not have hurt them!"

Khamuel's head reared back. His glow flushed as his fingers dug into her shoulders. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Men can't be trusted," she said flatly. "Let go of me!"

"Has someone hurt them ere now?"

"God no!" she seethed. "And it's because I keep them away from men. Except for their father. Men are dangerous."

"And yet, I have been naught but kind to you, Farran."

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut to stem the string of cuss words. "I want them under a woman's care."

She was irrational in that moment despite knowing better than to show alarm. Showing fear only fed the beast. Tamping down her wilder responses, she met his gaze, willing him to take her seriously.

Khamuel eyed her for a moment, then conceded. "Very well. I shall invite my sister to stay with me until you heal."

Lena breathed hard as she settled her racing heart. Get answers, Lena. "What do you mean you are beholden to us?"

Khamuel straightened as the fight died within her. It was obvious he still felt the sting of insult from her words because his voice was as stiff as his posture. "As acting captain of the forager that struck your vehicle, I am responsible for what happened to you and your bantlings. It is up to me to provide safety and security for you."

"Is that an alien custom or something?"

His amusement floated into her even though his face kept its mask. "I believe most would term it, 'common decency.'"

"Okay, so … okay … What happens now? Am I going to be experimented on? Become a slave?" She rose slightly, leaned on an elbow, and displayed none of the weakness she was actually feeling. "I won't make a very good slave," she warned in a low, steely tone. "I'm mean, and stubborn, and I won't have sex with any man stupid enough to think I would call him 'master.'"

"Farran," Khamuel interrupted warily, his hands rising in a halting gesture. "My people have not kept slaves since our exodus from your planet some two thousand years ago." Though his voice was polite, Lena thought she detected a flash of annoyance. Yes, she had thoroughly pissed him off. She wasn't sure what gave her that impression, since he remained expressionless.

Perhaps you can "detect" my ill-humor because we share our thoughts?

Lena jerked, her hand going to her head in surprise. "Oh ... yeah ... forgot about that ..."

This was too incredible, so completely unbelievable. Being awake and feeling his energy enter her mind was unlike anything she ever experienced. While asleep, it had been a hazy, distant thing; completely non-threatening. Now, with them both fully awake, the power of this man in his prime, pulsing and projecting into her mind, was almost overwhelming. In fact, it was damned painful and downright nauseating. She rubbed her belly in a telltale manner as she focused on his words and relaxed back against her pillow. "So, what happens now?"

Lena was grateful when he spoke his next words aloud. "I will call the minister. She will be well pleased with your recovery. Then, we reunite you with your bantlings."

"Really? You'll let me be with my kids?" Her heart fluttered. "For how long?"

Khamuel withdrew from the bed, putting distance between them, and squared himself up to his full height. "You are not a prisoner here, Lady Lena. You are now part of our community. Your progeny are your own and I have no intention of keeping such young ones from their modir."

"I'm sorry." So much for making a good impression. Khamuel had shown her nothing but kindness and hospitality, and she offended him at every turn. "I didn't mean to offend you, I just…" Their eyes met again and her stomach dipped.

Good grief! It wasn't fair for one man to be that damned good-looking while she lay in this bed, weak, and completely disheveled. What did it matter, though? Good looks aside, there was an incredibly life-changing event rocking her world at that moment, and she needed to address it. Taking a breath, she asked the one question she was afraid she already knew the answer to. "I'm never going to see Earth again. Am I?"

"You are here now, only because it was through my carelessness you suffered injury. Do you wish to stay, we will accommodate you. Do you wish to leave, we will oblige."

"How is this your fault?" Lena asked. Her throat ached, and she longed for a long, cool drink.

Khamuel headed over to a small table which held a metal cup and pitcher. Pouring a pink liquid into the small cup, he offered it to her. He nearly smiled as she eyed the cup dubiously and sniffed it before taking a tentative sip. "Your ground-to-air support caught wind of our forager. We are usually careful to cloak our vessels, yet our shields were not functioning properly. Our pilot was so engrossed in correcting the malfunction, he did not see your air fighters coming for us. At the last moment, we dove to fly below them. Mord overcompensated. We nearly crashed to the terra, clipping your chariot, causing it to roll several times down an embankment."

"Car."

"Pardon?"

"We don't call wheeled vehicles chariots anymore. We call them cars now."

Khamuel gifted her a smile. "Forgive my misspeak. Last I was upon your planet, the English language was much different. Your modern version, though easy enough to understand, has evolved so much I do not have a firm grasp of it."

"I'm not even going to ask what you mean by that." Modern version? Evolved? Lena didn't miss the implication of his words, but she didn't have the strength to confirm her suspicions yet. "How long do I have to think about it? I assume you won't be in this section of space for long? You must have - I don't know - a mission or a purpose or something."

"Aye, Charity has both a mission and a purpose. We guard the sons and daughters of the Eternal One until they are called to perform their duties. Then, we deliver them to their fates. You will have three ograz to decide. After that, we leave and will not be returning again until called to do so."

"Ograz?"

"Sennights."

"Sennights?"

He huffed. "Twenty-one dagaz ... uh ... days."

Lena settled onto her side so she could curl into a ball and face him. "Well, that's not a lot of time to decide on a lifelong commitment. Tell me everything about your ship, your people. Everything. I want to know it all."