He really did seem to be trying to help her. Summer gave a—human—nod. “I understand.”
“Has Ar’ar mistreated you, Mata?” Rotin asked again.
Summer wet her lips. It would be a lie, a big whopper of one, since Ar’ar had never threatened her, never used his considerable strength to hurt her. Everything he’d done was in accordance with Hir law and custom.
But that didn’t make it right.
At her silence Rotin regarded her gravely. “Then I do not see cause to grant you sanctuary here.”
“Father,” Ke’lar began urgently, “Summer will not be permitted to choose. Even if she choses to return to her world the Betari will announce that she has chosen Ar’ar!”
“You lie!” Ar’ar roared, rounding on Ke’lar.
“You are the ones who lie!” Ke’lar snarled, his fangs fully bared.
“This is my clanhall!” Rotin stepped forward. “And I will have no bloodshed within it!”
Ar’ar’s fangs gleamed in the light. “Then come outside, thief. Let me spill your blood there,” he taunted. “Let your lies seep away with your lifeforce!”
“My son—” Mirak placed his hand on Ar’ar’s arm. The Betari heir resisted for a moment, his furious eyes fixed on Ke’lar, then allowed his father to draw him back.
Rotin turned his attention to Summer, his crinkled pale alien eyes kind but with the same lingering sadness all the g’hir carried.
“Is this true?” he asked. “Did your mate say he would not honor your choice?”
“It wasn’t Ar’ar.” Summer glanced at the Betari’s clanfather. “It was Mirak who said that to me.”
“My father would never—!”
Rotin held up a palm to Ar’ar to silence him and regarded Mirak with a raised eyebrow.
The Council member didn’t even blink. “Naturally her decision on the Choosing Day will be honored. It is the law.”
“That’s not what you told me a few days ago!” Summer snapped, her face hot. “You told me I was staying with Ar’ar no matter what I decided!”
“I believe you misunderstood me,” Mirak said coolly. “Daughter.”
Summer’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, man, you are some piece of work, Councilor!”
“You vow that this young woman will have her Day of Choosing?” Rotin asked pointedly, indicating Summer. “That your clan will honor her decision?”
“Of course.” Mirak inclined his head. “You have my word.”
“Then,” Rotin said gravely, “I cannot lawfully grant sanctuary. I must refuse your request.”
Her throat closed at the unfairness of it, at the wrongness of it. Who was he—who were any of them—to determine where she should go, what she should do?
“I can’t believe this!” Summer cried, her hands clenching. “You’re just going to send me back with them? No matter what I want?”
“Father,” Ke’lar urged, “I implore you to reconsider! Allow her to remain with us, under our protection—”
“Ar’ar is her mate, my son,” Rotin said, frowning. “He is within his rights under the law.”
Like his right to Emma!
She could see it in Ke’lar’s eyes, how he was on the verge of telling them about Emma. His father might be an honorable man but clearly he was one that would obey Hir law and the law declared Emma belonged to Ar’ar—and the Betari.
Quickly Summer gave the tiniest of headshakes, warning him to stay silent, and Ke’lar’s jaw hardened in grim acknowledgment.
His eyes flashed blue fire as he turned his gaze to Ar’ar. “Summer stays here!”
“Summer is mine!” Ar’ar snarled, his fangs showing as he released her arm to confront Ke’lar. “Do you challenge me for her?”
Jenna’s chocolate eyes rounded with horror. Her mate quickly drew her back, out of danger, as Ke’lar leapt forward and Ra’kur put himself protectively between Jenna and the two snarling warriors.
“He does not.” Rotin sent a warning glance but his son’s attention was fixed on Ar’ar.
Ke’lar roared, his fangs fully bared, his body shifting to a fighting stance as Ar’ar too readied for battle.
“This female belongs to the Betari!” his father shouted. “I forbid this challenge!”
“Take her from me, Ke’lar,” Ar’ar growled. “If you can!”
Summer’s heart hammered in her chest, her ears still ringing from Ke’lar’s roar, her stomach rolling at what was about to happen. God knew she didn’t want this but there was no other way. If Ke’lar won her in this barbaric fight, she could stay here with him. He was the only one who knew—he understood—about Emma, that her baby needed her, that she had to get home and fast. He would let her go back to Earth, back to her baby and— His gaze met hers then and the blue fire in his eyes went cold as moonlight.
“No,” Ke’lar growled, straightening. “As my father commands, I acknowledge your claim to this female, Ar’ar. She is yours.”
Sixteen
The breath rushed out of Summer’s lungs as Ke’lar inclined his head respectfully to the Betari heir.