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Brides Of The Kindred: Targeted Part 23

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"Maybe..." He didn't sound convinced. But just then Emily's stomach rumbled, much to her mortification.

"Oh, excuse me!" She put a hand to her belly, her cheeks getting hot. "I'm just hungry, I guess. It's been a long time since those protein bars we had back on your ship."

"As for that, I believe Xen'dex's mate is making a late meal for us now. We're going to eat with them and stay here tonight. We'll be off again tomorrow as long as you're well enough to travel."

"I'm well enough," Emily protested.

He frowned. "That remains to be seen. I still don't like the way you're not even producing a single drop of nectar from either peak." He sighed. "But for now, let's go eat and see if the situation will "resolve itself" as you said."



"But I can't go out in nothing but a towel," Emily protested. "And anyway, now that the pinchers are off, I'm back to square one. Everything hurts me except, well..." She could feel her cheeks getting hot with a blush. "Except you."

"I would love nothing better than to hold your b.r.e.a.s.t.s in my hands the entire time we are eating," he growled softly. "As a true chosen mate would. But since I am not your chosen mate, it would probably be better for you to wear this."

He rose and went to the other side of the bed. There was a gauzy top there so lightweight it looked like it barely weighed a thing. It fluttered in the air lightly as Tragar brought it to her.

"Lift your arms," he instructed. "Let me slip it over your head."

"But...won't it hurt?" Emily couldn't help remembering how the soft, silky material of her nightgown had felt like sandpaper against her sensitive tips.

"It is fabric made of the petals of the la.s.sa flower-the same flower used to make the healing ointment," he rumbled, pointing at the ointment pot still lying on the bed beside her. "It shouldn't irritate your peaks-for a short time, at least."

"All right." Carefully, she let the soft, floaty fabric settle around her. The top was pale green and had spaghetti straps that could be adjusted to be longer or shorter through a series of loops. "Hey-it really doesn't hurt." Emily was relieved as the soft blouse settled against her sensitive nipples. She could see them poking out under the flower fabric, making two obscene little tents, but at least they were covered. The hem of the top felt about to her navel and while she wished it was longer, Emily was just glad to be decent for now.

"It won't hurt at first," Tragar said, handing her a long green skirt with a slit up the middle which appeared to go with the blouse. "Though after a little while even the la.s.sa fabric will irritate you. But this blouse can be adjusted for that. Watch."

Leaning over her, he did something to the loops on the spaghetti straps, shortening them so that the hem of the pale green blouse was suddenly raised to just above her nipples.

Emily bit her lip as she looked down at the obscene sight of her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s thrusting out from under the gauzy green fabric.

"Um...is that really necessary?"

"Not now. It maybe become so later, especially when your nectar starts to flow." He readjusted the straps so that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were hidden again, much to Emily's relief. "The fabric also repels nectar so it won't stain when it starts to flow. The nectar simply rolls right off."

"Okay, well that's good I guess." It still seemed to Emily that she was going to be walking around all sticky and leaving a trail of the honey-looking nectar everywhere she went but at least her clothes wouldn't be stained. "Do you mind not looking while I put this on?" she asked, holding up the skirt. "I'm still kind of, um, shy."

Plus she didn't want him to see the silver shaft which was still inside her. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s might be achy and full but the shaft didn't have anything to do with that-or so the little voice in her head insisted. And as long as it wasn't hurting her, she had decided to leave it where it was. After all, if it could keep her from moving to the third stage, or Vlammen as Tragar called it, it would be worth a little discomfort of having a foreign object inside her.

"Of course." Tragar turned around courteously and she dropped the towel completely and pulled on the skirt. She wished she had panties to go with it but at least she was covered. The fabric was stretchy and the slit of the skirt came up to her mid thighs so she was easily able to walk in it.

Once she was dressed, Emily felt much better. The skirt and blouse outfit, though not what she would have picked for herself, was certainly flattering. And even if it hadn't been, anything was better than her ragged, stained nightgown.

"I'm ready," she said to Tragar and he turned around to look at her.

"You look beautiful, my Khalla," he murmured and held out an arm to her. "May I escort you to dinner?"

"Yes, thank you." Smiling and trying to ignore the ache in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, Emily took his arm and let him lead her from the room. She could still feel the b.u.mpy silver shaft moving within her with each step, but at least her nipples didn't sting anymore and she and Tragar seemed to be on talking terms again. She just wished her b.r.e.a.s.t.s didn't hurt with every step.

Still, maybe the problem will take care of itself, she thought hopefully. Maybe the nectar will just go away-just dissipate or something. It didn't seem very likely but a girl could hope, couldn't she?

Chapter Nineteen.

"This is delicious, Saskia!" Emily said. "I'd ask for the recipe but I'm pretty sure I couldn't find the ingredients back on Earth."

"I'm glad you like it." Saskia smiled and pa.s.sed her a small piece of undu bread, shaped like a hand for good luck. "It's my specialty, so it tis. Though I never thought to be making it for a Khalla from so far away."

Tragar watched as Emily dug into the steaming bowl of charnoth stew which their hostess had set before her. It really was delicious, with a thick, meaty broth and chunks of taroth root and other vegetables throughout it. In contrast, there were also delicate simbla blossoms floating on its surface, their fragile purple petals unfurling in the steam.

He was eating his own stew but keeping an eye on Emily, who was sitting directly across the table from him. So far, she still hadn't shed a single drop of nectar and he was becoming more and more concerned.

He knew the nectar wasn't flowing yet because the pale green fabric of her clothing remained unchanged. The flower-blouse she had on would repel the liquid of course but still, the pa.s.sage of the nectar would have changed its color, turning the pale green to a deep turquoise.

Of course, when she really started flowing the straps would have to be adjusted to reveal her nipples completely-they would be much too sensitive at that point to have even the softest petal fabric against them. But so far Emily seemed to have no such problem. In fact, he would have thought she had no problem at all, but for the slight wince he saw on her face any time she moved too quickly and caused her heavy b.r.e.a.s.t.s to jiggle.

"You're worried, aren't you?" Xen'dex, who was sitting beside him, murmured for his ears alone. "Concerned about your Khalla."

"I removed those d.a.m.ned pinchers myself-she couldn't stand to do it," Tragar muttered back. "And her b.r.e.a.s.t.s have grown so much fuller I was certain her nectar would flow at once. But so far...not a drop."

"That's not good." Xen'dex frowned. "Possibly prolonged exposure to the star-silver inhibited her flow or thickened the nectar. Which can be extremely dangerous."

"She admitted her b.r.e.a.s.t.s ache," Tragar said in a low voice. "But I don't know what to do about it. I even tried ma.s.saging them but..." He shook his head. "Nothing."

"I believe she should be in the second stage of Scintil by now." Xen'dex shook his head. "If the nectar doesn't being to flow soon, you may have to do something else to stimulate it."

"Besides ma.s.saging her? What can I do?" Tragar demanded. He was glad that the table was wide and the females across from them were completely immersed in their own conversation-he had a feeling Emily wouldn't like knowing he was discussing this with his old master at all.

Xen'dex sighed and looked troubled.

"You may have to suck her peaks-just enough to get the nectar flowing."

"What?" Tragar shook his head. "But that's forbidden! To suck the nectar from a Khalla's peaks...It is unthinkable."

"Sometimes the unthinkable is necessary," Xen'dex murmured. "And the rule against the sucking of nectar was not always in place-it is actually a fairly recent decree. Only in the past hundred cycles has it been considered forbidden."

"Truly?" Tragar raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was prohibited by the G.o.ddess herself."

Xen'dex shook his head. "Not by the G.o.ddess-by her Mouthpiece. The High Priestess and Head of the Holy Council."

"That's the same thing," Tragar objected. "For surely the Mouthpiece of the G.o.ddess would not say anything the G.o.ddess had not given her to say. I cannot suck the nectar from Emily's b.r.e.a.s.t.s-it is wrong!"

"It didn't used to be considered so," Xen'dex argued softly. "According to some very ancient texts I have studied, the chosen mate of the Khalla-to-be would suck her peaks and partake of her nectar regularly. It created a bond between them which would never form otherwise."

"That was then-this is now," Tragar objected. "All of my life I have been taught what a blasphemy it was for a male to let more than a drop or two of the Khalla's sacred nectar to pa.s.s his lips."

"You do not have to imbibe completely. The key is to start the nectar flowing, then stop sucking-and above all, not to swallow any of the nectar itself."

"Master, you do not understand. I have already done things with Emily...things I deeply regret." Tragar closed his eyes briefly, remembering the remorse he had felt after beating her with his belt. That had been bad enough. But to compound his sins by sucking her peaks until her nectar filled his mouth...no, he could not do it.

No man was worthy of such an honor-not even the Khalla's chosen mate. It was frowned on by the Holy Council in the Holy Mountains-not just frowned on but outright condemned. Any male who did such a thing was a heretic-a blasphemer. Of course, after renouncing the G.o.ddess, Tragar was already both those things. But he couldn't shake the idea that what Xen'dex was suggesting was wrong.

"The nectar must be allowed to flow freely," he pointed out. "It may be tested for sweetness but no more than a drop or two must pa.s.s a male's lips."

"Yes, if it will flow in the first place," Xen'dex said in a low voice. "But if the star-silver has thickened it, you may need to help. Though it is forbidden, better that you should suckle her peaks to draw it out than that your Khalla should die if it will not flow properly."

"She could die of it?" Tragar dropped his voice to a whisper, eyeing Emily, who was laughing with Saskia about something, with deep concern. He felt a knife twist in his gut at the thought. No, she can't die! I won't let it happen!

"The nectar must flow," his old master insisted grimly. "By any means possible. Outside of her body it is a healing ambrosia, filled with fertility and life. But if it remains within, unable to bless and heal, it becomes a poison to her."

Something he had said troubled Tragar.

"What do you mean, it must flow by any means? Are you saying that even sucking may not be enough?"

"Pleasure may help as well if the sucking alone does not," his master said obliquely. "That is all I may tell you for now. Consider that after you have gone to your sleeping chamber this night. And if you care for your Khalla as I know you do, you must do whatever is necessary to help her."

"Yes, Master." Tragar nodded, still watching Emily. He noticed the way her lips tightened as she moved just a little too fast...the way she bit her lip as if to hold back a gasp of pain when her heavy b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggled. Obviously, she was in much more pain than she was letting on. But could he really break the ancient, sacred taboo to help her?

Yes, he thought and knew it was true. I would do anything to help her-even d.a.m.n myself in the eyes of the G.o.ddess. Though what did it matter? He was already d.a.m.ned after having renounced her. He would do what he had to do to help Emily and to the Seven h.e.l.ls with the rest of the universe.

Emily sighed as she got ready for sleep. She and Tragar were going to be sharing the large bed-which Saskia had told her had indeed been grown rather than made-and Emily was afraid it was going to be awkward. Not just because she was going to be sleeping beside the big Kindred warrior and inhaling that warm, spicy scent of his all night, but also because of the strange nightgown she'd been given to wear.

"It's made especially for a Khalla," Saskia had said, handing it to her. "I made it, in fact, for my dear friend who was one." She bit her lip. "Unfortunately, she never got a chance to wear it."

"What happened to her, if you don't mind me asking?" Emily asked quietly, taking the lovely, periwinkle blue nightgown from her new friend. "I mean, forgive me if I'm being nosy but..."

"No, tis all right." Saskia looked down at her hands. "She did not survive her Tenrah."

"Oh," Emily whispered faintly. "And...does that happen often? People...Khallas die during their, uh, Shift?"

"Sometimes..." Saskia put a hand on her arm. "I didn't want to tell you earlier because I didn't wish to scare you-tis not my intention. Beleah, my friend, was always weak and sickly to begin with. You...you seem strong." She smiled at Emily. "Much stronger than she was. And you have a male who cares for you."

"Who, Tragar?" Emily tried to laugh. "He doesn't really care-he's just helping me because he has to. According to him a Beast Kindred is biologically unable to smell out a Khalla and not help her in any way he can."

"It might have started like that," Saskia said quietly. "But I don't believe that is the case now. You should see the way he looks at you-the way he watches you, Emily. There is caring in his eyes-there is the kheer'na."

Emily frowned. "What's kheer'na? My translation bacteria aren't helping with that one."

"A kind of possessive tenderness that all Beast Kindred males feel for their mates. It was when Xen'dex admitted he felt it for me that I knew he was the one. I was mated once before you know-my first mate was a Wulven male who died in a pack war. Oh yes," she remarked, when Emily looked at her uncertainly. "Tis true-I am older than I look. Wulven females do not show their age. To say the truth, I am older than Xen'dex. Too old, I thought, to ever be mated again but when I saw the kheer'na in his eyes, I knew I was wrong and I gave myself to him without reservation."

"Um..." Emily coughed into her hand. "I don't know about seeing any kheer'na in Tragar's eyes when he looks at me. I mean, sometimes he can be kind and sweet and understanding but other times he gets so cold. And he was really angry at me when we first met up with them outside the Howlund."

"Because he was frightened for you," Saskia said quietly. "Because he thought he'd lost you. I never thought I would advise any female to go with a Verrak, but Emily-he loves you. Even if he does not know it yet himself."

"If he loves me so much why is he taking me to Rageron so I can find some other guy?" Emily demanded. Just the thought of going with some strange Beast Kindred she didn't yet know made her feel awful and wrong. Not that I'll probably even know it at that point, she thought grimly. Not if the other has taken over my body completely.

Saskia shook her head, her long dark hair shifting over one shoulder.

"I do not know. Maybe because he does not realize what he feels himself yet. But he will, Emily-he will. And you should recognize it in yourself as well." Then she had patted Emily's hand and stroked the periwinkle blue night gown once more, as if in parting. "Wear it in good health, Khalla," she said softly. "And may it bring you and your chosen mate pleasure."

Then she had glided out of the room, leaving Emily to contemplate what she had said...and the gown she was supposed to wear.

It really was a lovely color which made her no-color eyes look blue and almost pretty. But it was also strangely cut with a rounded neckline so low it fell just under the curves of her areolas and left her sensitive nipples bare. Emily couldn't help feeling self-conscious when she put it on, even though Tragar had already seen her b.r.e.a.s.t.s plenty of times in the past few days.

Seen them and squeezed them and licked them, whispered that snarky little voice in the back of her head. Admit it, Emily-you're hoping he might do more of that tonight.

Emily pushed it away. She was just wearing the clothing that had been given to her-the clothing that was fitting for someone in her condition. It wasn't her fault that it was a bit revealing.

Well, maybe more than a bit. In addition to dipping low enough to show her nipples, the periwinkle blue gown only fell to the tops of her thighs and there were no panties to go with it. Basically, Emily felt like she was wearing an outfit picked out for a honeymoon. Something sweet and s.e.xy at the same time-something a bride might choose to wear for her new husband.

Ha! As if Tragar would ever want to marry me! She snorted to herself. The big Kindred had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't the man for her, even if he was acting as her "chosen mate." No matter what Saskia said about him loving her, Emily didn't see it. She doubted he'd be getting down on one knee any time soon.

Which was one reason she felt nervous going to bed with him dressed like this.

"If only there was some kind of flower petal cape to cover it," she muttered to herself, twisting to get a look in the 3-D viewer just inside the bathroom. "If only-ouch!"

A sharp, lancing pain-a feeling of unbearable fullness worse than anything she'd had during dinner-shot through her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and nipples, making her gasp and clutch at herself instinctively. Unfortunately her own touch was also incredibly painful. She cried out again, pulling her arms away from the tender peaks, and tears of agony came to her eyes.

"It hurts, doesn't it? Hurst worse even than it did before."

The deep voice startled her because she'd believed herself to be alone. Whirling, Emily saw Tragar standing there, a look of unmistakable concern in his golden eyes.

"I can stand it," she said defiantly.

"Why should you?" he countered, surprising her. "Why not just let me help you?"

"You think you can?" Emily looked at him doubtfully.

"I know I can. We have to help your nectar flow."

"But you already, uh, ma.s.saged me earlier and nothing happened," she pointed out. Somewhere deep inside she knew that nothing had happened because of the star-silver shaft inside her. But still the hypnotic little voice in the back of her brain insisted that it shouldn't come out.

"I know ma.s.saging didn't help." The big Kindred looked troubled. "Which is why...I think more extreme measures need to be taken."

"More extreme? What do you mean?" Emily drew back from him fearfully.

"I need...forgive me, Khalla for this sacrilege, but I fear that I must suck your peaks in order to get your nectar flowing." He looked ashamed, as though he was suggesting something deeply wrong but somehow necessary.

"Um..." Emily twisted her fingers together nervously. "But I thought...didn't you tell me that sucking a Khalla's nipples was forbidden?"

"It is." He nodded gravely. "A better male than I would probably refuse to even think of such a thing. But I am not a good or deserving male-I only wish to help you. To save you."

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Brides Of The Kindred: Targeted Part 23 summary

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