The reality and delicacy of daily life with a female shattered his previously uninformed ideal of an always willing and availablemate who’d make no demands upon him beyond welcoming bedsport. The layered complexity of this female drew his grudging respect even as she denied him physical intimacy. Before being mated, he’d never considered a female capable of thoughts and wishes and dreams that did not reflect her mates’ desires.
His emotions raw, Zul scrutinized the daily reports he received from the capital and took small comfort in knowing that as long as the reports came, he needed not to worry for Ursula and Crow’s welfare. Daily he tested the triad bond with Bran and Gil, fearing to lose that connection as he had apparently lost the connection with their mate. Bran did not acknowledge the wordless inquiries, but Gil did:Hold fast.
Time passed. The season turned. Zul maintained the fiction that Bran and Gil had been deployed for an indefinite length of time. And Ursula continued giving him the silent treatment.
Retreat!The sharp, urgent command came late one night, accompanied by a sharp burst of pain. Zul bolted upright in his lonely bed, every mental alarm ringing and every muscle tensed and ready for battle. He sent an unspoken question along the triad bond, but found the connection blocked. At once, he understood that Bran had cut himself and Gil off to protect him, Ursula, and Crow. Plans they had crafted much earlier now came into play. He remembered Gil’s prediction of torture and surmised the cause of Bran’s pain, an agony so severe he could not prevent it from traveling across the triad bond.
He left his room and entered the suite where his mate slept. He tiptoed through the room and opened the door. The castratus stationed in the central bedchamber who had been assigned nighttime guard duty—an assignment made without informing the Prima—glanced at him. Zul shut the door behind him and whispered, “Alert Suvesh.”
The castratus nodded and raced away to wake Suvesh. Zul entered the bedchamber and squatted beside his mate’s bed. Gently placing his hand over her mouth, he whispered, “Wake up,elska’adir.”
Ursula’s eyelids flipped open. Seeing a dark figure looming over her, she screamed, but the hand pressed over her mouth stifled the sound. Terrified, she began to struggle.
“Hush, Ursula,” Zul ordered both aloud and through the emotional bond that still connected them. Panting through her nose, her body grew still. His voice low and thrumming with urgency, he said, “We must leave.”
“Crow?” she asked, her lips rubbing against his palm.
“Suvesh has him.”
Ursula misunderstood, and her eyes flashed with hot fury. “He belongs withme.”
Zul wasted no time on apologies. “They will meet us in the stableyard.”
Ursula closed her eyes in relief: Zul did not intend to separate her from her son. When he removed his hand from her face, she hissed, “What’s going on?”
He ignored her question. “Get dressed in your most practical clothes and pack enough for a few days. Pack only the essentials.Quickly. We must leave.”
Zul retreated to his suite where he dressed for battle. Their transportation would soon arrive.
Ursula glared at the bedchamber door and pressed her lips together to stem the questions that clogged her throat and crowded her mouth. Obedient to the urgency she felt through their bond, she rose naked from her bed and headed for the en suite bathing room where she emptied her bladder before digging out her most practical clothes—which weren’t very—and getting dressed.
As her skirts swished around her legs, she wished for a much more practical pair of blue jeans. However, she had to make do with the garb Urb culture deemed appropriate for females. At least the fine fabric was made of some type of dark wool rather than the filmy, floaty, pastel-colored cloth her mates preferred she wear. She pulled on stockings and quickly fastened the buckles on her boots.
Dressed, she pulled out the bag she used when visiting Omari for two or three days. She understood “packing lightly” meant no jewelry. With a lingering glance at the chest containing her jewelry, she sighed, then got to the business of pragmatism, determined no one would have reason to accuse her of being frivolous. She drew on a shawl, then buckled the bag closed and slung the strap over her shoulder.
Emerging from her suite, she raised her gaze to Zul’s, noticing that he carried two large satchels and wore his battle kilt and boots, and asked, “What’s going on?”
Again, he did not answer her. “Come.”
Clenching her jaw, she followed him. Carrying two bags, Zul moved swiftly and silently through the manor, a stealthy progress which Ursula decided shouldn’t have been possible considering his size. Following him, she caught the dull glint of dark metal and realized Zul wore more than his battle kilt: he was garbed in full battle regalia. A tube of sharp spikes was affixed to the end of his tail. Spiked spaulders protected his shoulders and greaves his shins. Gauntlets covered the backs of his hands, but left his talons bare. Short, sharp fins protruded from the vambraces on his forearms. Lethal spurs were strapped to his legs and protruded at wicked angles from behind his ankles. A gorget protected his throat and clavicles. Beneath the gorget, he wore a heavy shirt like a hauberk, but it wasn’t made of metal. A spiked plate of metal covered the span of his skull between his horns.
Ursula wondered if she’d need armor, too. Would Crow? Would Suvesh?
Her footsteps stuttered to a stop when she saw long, sinuous necks, the dull gleam of scales beneath the dim illumination of the moon, and the malevolent glint of reptilian eyes. She did not notice Zul dropping the two satchels to the ground.
“What thehellare those?” she hissed.
Long, heavy reins dropped from thick rings at the beasts’ auditory openings. Castrati held on to those reins with grim determination, each also holding a goad. A wet gurgle sounded from one of the beasts.
“Our transportation to safety,” Zul said.
“They look like they’d rather eat us than not,” she objected. “Crow is not getting near one of those evil things.”
Zul fixed her gaze with his. “We have no time for debate. Crow will ride with Suvesh, and you will ride with me.”
“Not on that thing.”
“Yes, on that thing.” He did not try to tell her it was perfectly safe because, as she’d reminded him more than once, she wasn’t stupid. One of the beasts yawned, displaying fearsome teeth.
