The Shadows of Night (5 page)

“Another good set of robes ruined,” Prong grumbled, scrambling up off the floor.

Katara felt the need to say something in order to cover the way she’d foolishly gaped at Hart’s nudity.
 
As if she’d never seen a naked man before.
 
“My people rarely wear clothes, for this very reason,” she remarked coolly, wanting to make sure that he realized the sight of a male body was no novelty to her.
 
Even the sight of a gorgeously sculpted, perfectly muscled male body.
 

“We don’t ordinarily shift indoors,” Hart said.
 
“But my brother needed to be taught a lesson.”

She had been shocked by their sudden transformation, and the apparently vicious fight, but now she understood that it was merely a spat, a way of working out minor grievances and establishing dominance and hierarchy.
 
Her people sometimes fought the same way, although among the Claw even a minor dispute could turn deadly.
 
She had the feeling that wasn’t likely to happen among the Antler.

Because
they’re
weak
.

She pushed the reflexively scornful thought aside.
 
There was nothing whatsoever weak about Hart.
 
In his human form, he was physically a match for any man she knew, and she wasn’t sure a single member of the Claw Kindred could pull him down in his stag form, either.
 
Nor was his behavior that of a weakling.
 
He didn’t permit his brother to challenge his authority, and he was willing to fight to protect the dignity and honor of a woman he scarcely knew.
 

She was beginning to wonder if perhaps the Antler Kindred were not the timid, fearful people she had always believed them to be.

But courageous man or not, Hart’s next words showed he feared at least one member of the Antler Kindred.
 
He looked over the ruins of breakfast, at the china shards scattered across the floor, chairs tipped over, and vegetables ground into the carpet, and spoke in a low voice.

“Mother is going to kill us,” he said.

“This is your chamber,” Hart said a few moments later.
 
“If there is anything you find not to your liking, you have but to let your attendant know.”

“With the exception,” Katara said dryly, “of the food.”

He shrugged a big shoulder.
 
“With that single exception, yes.”

Katara walked into the spacious, round chamber.
 
An enormous, circular bed sat in the center of the room, atop a brightly colored rug.
 
The floor and walls were of a roughly hewn rock that glittered silver in the sunlight streaming through the tall, arched window.

A
window
.
 
Feigning casual interest, she walked toward the expansive window and looked out.
 
She was distressed to see how high this chamber was, though not particularly surprised, considering the long spiral stairway they’d climbed.
 
They were evidently in a high tower.
 
Even if she could somehow shift, she could never hope to jump safely.

“I trust you won’t leap,” he said.

She jolted, startled, at the sound of his deep voice just behind her.
 
Turning, she found herself looking right into his dark eyes.

“I’m not a fool,” she answered, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation of need between her thighs.
 
It had been too long since she had bedded a man.
 
Surely that was the only reason she reacted to him so strongly.

“I’m sure you’re not a fool.
 
But I suspect you may suffer from overconfidence.”

“Perhaps.
 
My parents have often said as much.
 
But it is clearly too far to jump, even in my other form.”

“And you won’t jump for any other reason, I hope.”

She stared up into his face, at the concern in his eyes, and felt
a peculiar
warmth in her chest.
 
He cared what became of her.
 
It had been a long time since any man other than her father had truly concerned himself with her fate.

She reminded herself firmly that the reason he was concerned for her was because his monarch had ordered him to keep her safe.
 
Obviously it would not reflect well on him if his charge leapt to her death.
 
Surely that was all that mattered to him.
 
And yet the small flicker of warmth didn’t go away.

He was standing close to her, too close, really.
 
Even in her human form, she was aware of his scent, the odor of human skin and male musk, and beneath that, the sweet smell of the Antler.
 
His odor wasn’t as pungent as the men of the Claw Kindred.
 
Oddly, she liked his scent.
 
It was different.
 
Exotic.

Sexual.

Her breath came faster, and her heart pounded heavily in her chest as she looked up at him, seeing the heat gathering in the dark depths of his eyes, reflecting the heat building in her body.
 

The urge to rub her body up against him, to feel his hot, sweaty skin pressing against hers, to feel his cock moving against her abdomen, probing between her thighs, thrusting inside her, became overwhelming.
 

And she knew he felt the same way.
 
His heavy-lidded expression and the tension in his muscles promised everything she imagined… and more.

She backed away with a strangled gasp.
 
Her people became aroused easily and made love casually, but she’d never had so wanton a response to a man in her life.
 
She didn’t want to desire this man, regardless of how well formed he was, regardless of how good he smelled.
 
He wasn’t her kind, and furthermore, he thought she was a barbarian.
 

She’d best remember that before she got hurt.

He seemed to come to himself at the sound of her gasp.
 
He took a step back and looked away.
 
“So,” he
said,
his voice hoarse.
 
He cleared his throat and tried again.
 
“So.
 
You find this chamber to your liking?”

She lifted a shoulder and spoke with as much contempt as she could muster.

“It will suffice… for a prison.”

His brows drew together.
 
“I am glad you approve,” he said with heavy sarcasm.
 
“If you need anything, speak into the air, and an attendant will come to you.
 
I will leave you now, but I charge you to remember your vow not to hurt any of my people.”
 

He turned his back on her and strode from the room, leaving her alone.

*****

Hooves and antlers, but she was a gloriously sensual creature, Hart thought as he flung himself down in the living chamber.
 
A drone was floating back and forth across the chamber, dusting the wood surfaces of the furniture, but he hardly noticed it.
 
He picked up his harp and began strumming at it, scarcely aware of what tune he was playing.

The Claw woman filled his mind.
 
He remembered the sleek, curving lines of her body before she’d clothed herself yesterday.
 
Nudity meant little among his people, since they necessarily removed their clothing before shifting, but they rarely went unclothed inside, and the sight of her lovely, naked body had shaken him.
 

And today, he’d found himself strangely affected by the way she’d responded to his nearness, her heart pounding audibly, her breasts rising and falling with each rapid breath.
 
He’d been able to smell the scent of her arousal, even in his human form.
 
Claw women didn’t smell the way Antler women did.
 
She didn’t have a sweet, dainty fragrance.
 
When she was aroused, she smelled quite plainly of sex.

He thought of the moisture that must have gathered between her thighs, imagined touching her there, running his fingers through her liquid heat, caressing her most intimate flesh…

Abruptly he realized the harp was shaking because his hands were trembling.
 
He dropped the instrument in disgust, and the drone immediately zipped across the chamber and placed it back on a table.

What had the woman done to him?
 
He’d never had such a strong reaction to a woman in his life.
 
She was a stranger to him, not even a member of his society, yet he longed to bed her.
 
Vivid sexual images rioted in his mind, and his body was so hard it ached.
 

He drew in a long breath, trying to steady himself.
 
His reaction was all the more puzzling because he loathed the Claw.
 
When he closed his eyes, he could still see the circle of half-grown Claw, various kinds of great cats, their mouths open, displaying their savagely sharp teeth.
 
He could still feel the fear and rage that had filled him as a black panther lifted its paw and struck its claws deep into Prong’s shoulder…

He shuddered and flung the memory away with an effort, but the loathing he felt remained.
 
So why did he ache for this particular Claw?

It must be her very strangeness that he found exciting, he decided at last.
 
Everyone believed Claw women were wild in bed.
 
Antler men laughed raucously and told vulgar tales about them over ale, though he suspected it was mostly myth—he had never heard of a true Antler/Claw mating.
 
It was all rumor and innuendo.
 
The potent lure of the unknown.

And it was ridiculous.
 
He had no true desire to bed the woman.
 
There were plenty of Antler women who would be more than willing to lay with him if he so much as crooked a finger in their direction.
 
He didn’t need a savage, half-wild woman who was probably at this very moment trying to escape.

As if on cue, an alarm went off, and he grinned.
 
If nothing else, the barbarian was predictable.

He headed for the stone spiral stairs that led to the tower.

*****

Finding
herself
locked into a chamber, even a spacious one, made Katara feel anxious.
 
Restless.
 
She needed to escape.
 
She craved the freedom of the forest, the fresh smells of the open air.
 
She wanted to shift, too, but she’d have to worry about that later.
 
Getting the collar off seemed an impossible task.

Escaping this tower did not.

She approached the large, open window, which was open to the sky, with no glass or screening that she could see.
 
Beneath her spread out the green meadows that surrounded the keep, where a few Antler grazed in their animal forms, and beyond them sprawled a mass of buildings built of the same silvery stone that surrounded her.
  
She assumed they were houses, although they looked nothing like the crudely built longhouses of her people.
 

The Antler Kindred must be quite numerous, she thought, observing the thickly clustered buildings, and the people bustling in the streets, with an unwanted feeling of awe.
 
Her own people lived solitary lives, only one Pride occupying a single longhouse, and the dwellings scattered widely through the forest.
 
She guessed there must be at least a hundred buildings in this town.

The people in the streets presented a problem.
 
She wasn’t sure how she could make her way through the streets of the town undetected.
 
But she’d worry about that after she determined a way out of this tower.
 

Leaning out the window, she studied the way the wall was constructed.
 
The outer wall was built of the ubiquitous silvery stone, and there were jutting stones that she could use as handholds.
 
Even in her human form, she was a good climber.
 
She thought she could descend to the ground without falling.

If she did fall—well, it was best not to think about that.

She scrambled up onto the ledge of the open window and began to swing her legs out to the right of the window.

Suddenly she encountered an obstruction.

She paused, puzzled.
 
It felt as if there were a wall just a few inches outside of the window’s edge, blocking her access to the right side of the window, and yet there was nothing there.
 
She could see there was nothing.
 
It was very strange.