“It would be faster, wouldn’t it? The river should take us practically to the front door.”
“If there were a boat at hand, and if they were willing to abandon their own work to cater to us, then yes, that would be the swiftest way to the clanhall,” he growled. “If a boat sturdy enough to navigate the swift currents were to magically appear, we would reach my father by nightfall. But—as you can see—there are no boats and there are unlikely to be any for at least a day or two.”
Summer gritted her teeth. “It sounds like you think it’s a stupid idea.”
“It sounds as if you do not trust my judgment as a warrior,” he growled sharply. “It sounds as if you do not trust me to protect you.”
“This isn’t about trusting you! It’s—” She broke off, her hands clenching.
“What is it?” he rumbled, frustration plain in his face. “What distresses you so?”
“Nothing,” she insisted. “I just need to get the clanhall as fast as I can.”
She tried to push past him but he caught her gently by the wrist.
“Will you not let me share this burden?” he asked and offered a faint smile. “Surely I have proved I am strong enough to carry anything for you?”
She stayed stubbornly silent and he cupped her cheek in his warm broad palm, serious. “I know you are afraid. I vow there is no need for it.”
Summer’s hands wrapped around her middle. “There is.”
“You do not fear Ar’ar? He has no claim on you any longer.”
“I think he would disagree with you on that,” she muttered.
“It does not matter what he thinks.” He gave a short huff, a derisive laugh. “You are my mate now.”
“Wait—What?” Her head came up sharply. “Ke’lar, what did you say?”
“You are mine,” he repeated. At her stare, his alien brow furrowed. “We are mate-bonded.”
Her mouth parted. “Oh, God . . . I didn’t even think . . .”
She’d forgotten about that aspect of g’hir males. Of the powerful instinctive bonding males experienced during sex. Something about their physiology left a male permanently imprinted on his mate.
Like Ke’lar was now imprinted on her.
Summer wet her lips. “Ke’lar . . .”
“You have nothing to fear, my mate.” He took her hand in his. “You will be happy here—on Hir—with me. I will protect you; provide for you—” He gave a gentle smile, his blue eyes so loving it broke her heart. “I will cherish this honor always.”
“Listen to me,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. “I can’t stay here, Ke’lar. I can’t, even if I”—she swallowed hard—“even if I wanted to. I have to go back to Earth.”
“Summer, we are mate-bonded.” He blinked down at her. “You know I cannot live on your world.”
“I do know that.” She swallowed hard. “And I’m sorry.”
“No, you cannot mean this.” He shook his head. “You cannot mean you still intend to return to your world, not after—”
“I have to.”
“Why?” he demanded, his voice echoing the anguish in his eyes. “Why can you not remain here with me?”
“Ke’lar . . .” She closed her eyes briefly. “I just can’t.”
“Even now?” he asked tightly. “Even after I have bound myself to you you do not trust me?”
“Ar’ar—”
“You are not Ar’ar’s mate!” he snarled, his fangs bared. “You are mine!”
“I have to go back.” Her eyes stung. “I have to.”
“Tell me why!”
“I can’t.” She blinked the tears back. “I’m sorry.”
His glowing eyes were raw. “Perhaps you do not love me as I do you but I know you feel something for me. What is it that demands you must return to your world? Will you not give me at least that much? Do you—” His voice was strained. “Do you understand what it will be for me to be parted from you, from a mate I have bonded to?”
Summer looked away.
“Wait . . .” he whispered. “This is more than fear. I see guilt in your face too . . .”
She raised her gaze to his. His breath caught and she knew he’d read the truth in her eyes.
“It is not something that draws you back . . .” The color had drained from his face. “It is someone. There is another there—back on your world . . . one you love deeply.”
“This is my fault.” Summer closed her eyes briefly. “I shouldn’t have let that happen last night, this morning, not when I’m leaving—”
His breath exploded in a rush and he stepped back as if she’d slapped him.
“I’m sorry, Ke’lar.” She reached for him but with g’hir quickness he eluded her grasp. “I’m so sorry . . .”
He was facing away from her, his lips white as if he were remaining standing by will alone.
Summer pressed her hand hard to her mouth. There was nothing she could say to him, nothing she could do to make this right.
“I will keep my vow. I will take you to the clanhall,” he rumbled tightly. “I will give you over to my father.” Ke’lar took Beya’s reins in hand again. “You will be returned to your world . . . and the one who awaits you there.”
Twelve