“What?” Summer pushed forward. “What are you doing? You’re just going to—You promised you’d—”
“There is nothing to be done,” Ke’lar interrupted sharply. “This is the decision of the clanfather.” He glanced at his sire. “To disobey is to defy clan directive.”
“You don’t mean this, you can’t—” Her hands clenched and her voice rose. “You promised!”
“Whatever he promised,” Ar’ar growled, drawing her to his side possessively, “he had no right to. You are my mate.” He addressed the Erah clanfather. “Your son wronged me by keeping her from me. He has broken the truce and offended my clan. He has endangered one most precious to us.”
His face grieved, Rotin addressed his younger son. “You were aware that Ar’ar sought his mate? You were aware that she was missing? That her clan feared greatly for her?”
Ke’lar blinked. “Father, she asked for my help, for our help—”
“Did you have any reason to believe that she had been or would be mistreated by her mate?” his father persisted.
Ke’lar’s eyes were stormy.
“No,” he growled finally.
“You knowingly—and unlawfully—kept a female from her mate?”
“Yes,” he fairly spat.
“Then you leave me no choice, my son.” Heaviness seemed to settle on Rotin’s shoulders. “Ke’lar of the Erah,” he intoned, “for these acts you are banished from the clanhall—”
At Summer’s side Ar’ar smirked.
“Banished!” Ra’kur exclaimed, instantly stepping forward to his brother’s defense. “Father, you cannot—”
“—until the snows have come twice,” the clanfather finished.
There was an instant of silence.
“Hardly a lengthy punishment,” Mirak growled, nettled, “for such a serious crime.”
“I acknowledge the wrong done your clan,” the clanfather said, his voice carrying so that everyone within the hall could hear. “My son will not be permitted within these walls again until the following gathering. But,” he said, his eyes cold on his rival, “Ke’lar protected your clandaughter. He has brought what is yours safely here.”
“But not—” Mirak pointed out sharply, “—brought her to us.”
“Your daughter is returned, nevertheless,” the clanfather said, indicating Summer at Ar’ar’s side. “She is safely under her mate’s protection once more and our treaty renewed.”
He’s not my mate!
She wanted to cry out, to rage at them all, but she knew it would do no good. There were still eighteen days to her Choosing Day, plenty of time for Ar’ar to make her his.
The two men regarded each other for a moment and the tension was palpable.
Finally Mirak gave a stiff nod.
“May the All Mother watch over you,” Rotin said to Ke’lar, who stood, his nostrils flared, to receive his father’s blessing, “until your banishment is at an end and you may again enter this hall.”
“Be well, my brother,” Ra’kur growled heavily. “Know that upon your return to us this transgression will be forgotten—and forgiven.” Ra’kur put a hand on Ke’lar’s shoulder. “I will await you at the very center of the clanhall, as always.”
Ke’lar expression was stormy then he inclined his head toward Ra’kur. “I am grateful for it.”
“Ke’lar—!” she croaked as he turned away.
“The clanfather has made his decision. I have acknowledged Ar’ar’s claim to you,” he said tightly without looking at her.
“You said you would help me.” She shook her head. Was he really going to walk out of here? Was he really going to leave her? “Goddamn it, I trusted you!”
“I am a warrior of Hir and will act as one.” Ke’lar’s mouth thinned. “I am sorry. There is nothing more I can do for you now.”
Emma!
“No, actually there is one more thing you can do for me, Ke’lar,” Summer spat. “You can rot in hell!”
He looked at her with hard, alien eyes. “I am banished for your sake. I am a pariah to my clan and damned to a solitary existence for nearly two years. Think of that when you think to curse me.”
Her eyes stung as he left the hall without even a backward glance.
“Come,” Ar’ar said. “Our transport ship awaits.”
“Why, you can’t leave now!” Jenna moved swiftly to block their exit. “Summer and I haven’t seen each other in just about forever! And besides—this is no way to send y’all home. It just wouldn’t be right neighborly of us.” The g’hir looked at her blankly and Jenna offered a girlish shrug. “It’s a southern thing.”
Summer stared at Jenna. What the hell was she doing? Sure, they’d both grown up in North Carolina, but right now her friend sounded like a deranged Scarlett O’Hara.