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  Saskia seemed to understand her problem.

  “Come, Xen’dex…” She tugged at her mate’s arm. “There’s something I want to show you, just over here.”

  With a lingering look at Emily that made her face feel hot, the older male nodded and allowed himself to be led a little ways away. Once she was sure they were out of earshot, Emily looked back at Tragar.

  “She gave me these.” She had shifted her nightgown to try and cover the strange metal nipple covers but now she shifted it back, allowing the silver thimbles with their golden chain tassels to come into view through the ragged holes.

  Tragar looked grim.

  “If that’s star-silver, you’ve got to take them off at once,” he growled. “That stuff is dangerous—Xen’dex says so.”

  “She told me it would stop the flow of my nectar,” Emily said, frowning. “And you know what? Since I put them on, I haven’t, uh, leaked at all.” Although she had to admit her breasts felt awfully full and achy.

  “Xen’dex has some clamps that will do the same thing and won’t hurt you in the process,” Tragar said, frowning.

  “But will they stop the Tenrah from advancing? Because that’s what Grandy See-er promised me these would do.” She nodded down at the silver nipple caps.

  “It’s not safe to stop it completely!” Tragar protested. “You can delay it but halting it totally is dangerous.”

  “I don’t know about that. I—” Suddenly a wave of dizziness came over her, causing her to sway.

  “Emily?” Tragar tightened his grip on her arms and looked at her anxiously. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, I’m fine. Just hungry,” she murmured.

  It had been hours since her last meal with Tragar which had consisted of some kind of protein travel bars he apparently lived on when he was on the job and hunting a target. Emily could feel her stomach growling—which was probably why she felt so faint all of a sudden.

  She took a deep breath and tried to straighten up. Okay, get a grip, she lectured herself. You’re just tired. Everything is going to be just f—

  Then her breasts began to ache fiercely and another wave of dizziness hit her. With a low cry, she collapsed into Tragar’s arms.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “What’s wrong with her? Is she all right?”

  “It must be the star-silver—it’s poisoning her. Those pinchers need to come off!”

  “She’s very sensitive just now. I don’t know how that would affect her—or how much it might hurt.”

  Emily’s eyelids fluttered and she looked up to see three anxious faces peering down at her. One of them was Tragar’s, and the other was the older male Kindred and Saskia.

  “What? Where…where am I?” She tried to sit up but Tragar held her down gently but firmly.

  “Rest a minute—you’ve been out for a while,” he growled softly.

  “For a while?” Emily echoed. She looked around and saw she was lying on a strange, high bed with a canopy overhead. Only the canopy wasn’t cloth—it was made of green and blue and purple vines twined together to make a living covering. There were small pink and red buds on some of the vines which gave out a sweet, spicy fragrance that made her want to sneeze. “What is this place?” she whispered.

  “You’re in my guest chamber.” Saskia smiled at her and then cast a wary glance at Tragar. “In the bed my grandmere grew for me. You and your, uh, male are welcome to stay here for as long as you are ill.”

  “I’m ill?” Emily felt a surge of panic. “What’s wrong with me? Why did I faint?”

  “These damn things…” Tragar nodded down at the silver metal tips on her nipples which were once again poking out of her nightgown in a very embarrassing way. “They need to come off.”

  “But the nectar,” Emily protested. “The pinchers are all that’s keeping it from flowing! They’re keeping me from moving on to the next stage.” She was certain of this although why exactly she felt so strongly about it she couldn’t have said. Actually, her breasts ached fiercely and they seemed to have gotten even bigger while she was out but still, a voice inside her told her she didn’t want to take off the strange silver clamps.

  “You cannot stop the flow completely.” The older male Kindred who had to be Xen’dex was looking at her sternly. “It will kill you, Khalla. You must remove the star-silver clamps or allow Tragar to take them off for you.”

  “But…”

  “No buts, Emily,” Tragar growled. “They must come off—they are endangering your life.”

  “Fine.” It seemed she was outnumbered. Though she still had a strong internal feeling that the pinchers needed to stay on, she could see she wasn’t going to be allowed to keep them. “Fine,” she said again. “But I’m not taking them off here in front of God and everybody. Is there a bathroom around here?” She looked at Saskia pleadingly. “And could I get a shower? I really need one.”

  “Of course.” The other girl smiled at her warmly. “You have the full hospitality of our domicile. The bathing chamber is just over there.” She nodded at a tall, oval doorway across the room which seemed to be covered by a hanging curtain of vines.

  “Thank you.” Emily sat up with a little difficulty and took a deep breath.

  “You’re weak right now—I’ll come with you,” Tragar said.

  “I can manage on my own.” She shot him a glare. He was making her do this—making her take off the only things that were standing between her and the awful change that was consuming her body bit by bit. That, plus the way he’d shouted at her when he first found her meant she wasn’t exactly feeling very friendly towards him right now.

  Of course he also hugged you so hard your ribs still ache from it and nearly cried he was so glad to get you back, whispered a little voice in the back of her head. But Emily pushed it away. She was a little shaky when she stood but she managed to get off the high side of the bed without falling.

  “See? I’m fine,” she said and ruined it by stumbling. “Oops!”

  “Emily—” He tried to catch her arm but she had already righted herself and she eluded his big hand.

  “I’m okay—I’m fine,” she repeated stubbornly.

  The big Kindred looked like he was going to take her arm and help her whether she wanted him to or not but Saskia stepped forward.

  “Let me go with you, Sister, and show you how our bathing facilities work,” she said tactfully, smiling at Emily.

  Emily smiled gratefully back.

  “All right, thank you. That would be nice.”

  Ignoring the look Tragar was giving her, she allowed the Wulven girl to take her arm and lead her through the hanging blue and green vines and into the bathroom.

  * * * * *

  “Well, at least she’s back,” Xen’dex said as the two females disappeared into the bathing area together.

  “True, but she doesn’t seem very happy about it.” Tragar stared after her morosely. He wanted to help her—wanted to shield and protect and hold her, especially after almost losing her to the witch. Also, he was still terribly worried about those damn star-silver things she was wearing clamped to her nipples. But it seemed Emily wanted nothing to do with him—not that he could blame her after he’d shouted at her and shook her. But he’d been so worried, damn it! So certain that he’d lost her!

  “Don’t take it too hard, Tragar.” Xen’dex was watching him sharply and he wondered how many of his thoughts his old master could read on his face. He tried to keep his expression blank but Xen’dex had always had an uncanny ability to know what his students were thinking.

  “I’m not,” he said shortly. “I’m just thinking that she seems strangely reluctant to take off those damn things even after we explained they could kill her.”

  “That would be the witch’s doing,” Xen’dex said, frowning. “She’s probably placed some kind of suggestion in the Khalla’s mind about how she shouldn’t take them off. I told you if she bespelled her it could have far reaching consequences.”

&n
bsp; “Could that be why she’s so angry at me, too?” Tragar asked.

  “No—that my friend, is your fault.” Xen’dex shook his head.

  “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” Tragar paced up and down the small room, being careful to avoid the living bed with its canopy of vines and flowers. “I shouldn’t have shouted at her—it’s inexcusable to treat a Khalla so.”

  “It is inexcusable to treat any female so,” Xen’dex corrected gently. “But that is not what I am speaking of. Did you truly tell her, as you told me, that you were only helping her and seeing her safely to Rageron because you had to—because of the biological imperative of our kind to protect a Khalla?”

  “Well…” Tragar shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly he felt like he was fifteen cycles old again, being called out before the rest of the class for a wrong answer. “Yes,” he said at last. “I did say something like that to her when I first brought her aboard my ship.”

  “And you wonder why she feels angry with you and thinks you do not care?” Xen’dex said quietly.

  “I care for her,” Tragar protested. “That is…I wish to protect her and see her safely to the Holy Mountains.”

  “You wish more than that for her.” Xen’dex gave him another piercing look. “It is time you stopped lying—both to yourself and to Emily. A Khalla needs more than just protection, Tragar. She needs love.”

  Tragar turned away.

  “That I cannot offer her. My love died ten cycles ago with Jalex and Landra. And even if it had not, I am not her chosen mate.”

  “Tragar…” Xen’dex put a hand on his arm. “What happened to your family—”

  “Was my own fault.” Tragar shook off his old teacher’s hand and looked at him grimly. “Entirely mine. But I will not allow another in my care to come to harm. I will get Emily to the Holy Mountains before another stage of her Tenrah passes. There she will find someone worthy of her. Someone other than me.”

  Xen’dex looked at him for a long time and then nodded.

  “Very well—if that is the way you wish it.”

  “I do,” Tragar said shortly but his heart was sore as he spoke the words and he found he couldn’t meet his old master’s eyes.

  * * * * *

  “Wow, this is some bathroom!” Emily looked around herself in amazement. Everything in the bathroom seemed to be alive. The sink and the toilet—which was high and square—seemed to have been grown rather than made. They were smooth, black wood with the same blue and green vines draped around them that hung in the doorway. There was another curtain of vines—this time purple and pink ones—which shielded the shower area.

  “I’m glad you like it. The shower is modeled after the ones they have on Rageron—my mate disliked our mode of bathing and insisted on his own.”

  Saskia swept the purple and pink vines aside and stroked a smooth black square just inside the large shower stall. At once a chute opened up near the top of the ceiling and a rush of warm, sweet-smelling, clear turquoise water poured out. Emily thought it looked like a miniature water fall and longed to get in it at once—she didn’t know when she’d needed a shower so badly.

  Of course, she’d had a brief shower back on Tragar’s ship but that seemed like ages ago. Since then she’d been cooped up in the stuffy shuttle, a guest in Grandy See-er’s rather cluttered hovel, and running up and down a hot, dusty street being chased by a bunch of horny alien men. She felt grimy and sticky and thoroughly disgusting.

  “The controls are here.” Saskia patted the smooth black wall panel just inside the shower. “They’re very sensitive so tis best to use a light touch. Swipe left to make the water hotter, right to make it cooler. Swipe up to release foam to cleanse your hair and body and down to turn the water off completely.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Emily said gratefully. “Um…should I just get in then? I mean…” She didn’t know how to ask for privacy but she really didn’t want to strip in front of the other girl. No matter how nice and friendly Saskia seemed, she was still basically a stranger and Emily, being a plus sized girl, had more than her share of body image issues.

  Once again, Saskia seemed to know what the problem was.

  “You seem fine so I’ll step out and give you some privacy,” she said tactfully. “But please call out for me if you need help—I don’t mind.”

  “All right. Thank you.” Emily smiled at her as the other girl left, brushing aside the vine-curtain briefly to get out. As soon as Saskia was gone, she quickly stripped and stepped into the flow of the warm, clear turquoise water.

  For a long moment she just enjoyed it rushing over her in a long, rippling waterfall. It felt wonderful and warm—like an ocean wave caressing her. In fact, it was hands down the best shower she’d ever had in her life except for the fact that her breasts were throbbing painfully where the water hit them.

  That reminded her that she had yet to try removing the silver nipple caps. Should she? Everyone seemed to think it was so important yet she was still strangely reluctant to do it.

  But there’s no way they’ll let me keep wearing them—especially not Tragar. She thought of the stern look in his golden eyes…and that thought led to the memory of him holding her so gently and squeezing her nipples…the tender way he’d licked the droplets of nectar from her breasts…

  Stop it! she told herself. You’re supposed to be mad at him, remember? But for some reason, under the warm, rushing waterfall, it was harder to hold on to her resentment. All the anger and doubt and irritation seemed to just float away in her delicious enjoyment of the shower. But she couldn’t stand there enjoying herself forever.

  Emily looked down at the silver caps on her nipples and sighed.

  Well, guess it’s time to try and take these off…

  Gingerly, remembering how much it had hurt to put them on, she stepped a little way out of the water and took the right silver cap with its long golden tassel between her thumb and forefinger.

  Now, there should be a hinge somewhere…didn’t Grandy See-er squeeze them to open them up? She seemed to remember something like that although her memory of her visit with the kindly old lady was still strangely dim and foggy. She also didn’t question how she’d gotten from Grandy’s cottage to the middle of the Howlund—it simply didn’t seem important right now. I’ll think about it later. Right now I have to get these off.

  Carefully, she squeezed the silver cap, trying to make it pop open.

  Immediately, a bolt of agony ran through her—much worse than anything she’d felt before. It felt like someone was slicing through her tender nipple with a red hot knife.

  With a muffled scream, she snatched her hand away and stepped backwards, almost as if she could get away from the pain by distancing herself from her own body. Her elbow went back, knocking against the black wall panel that controlled the shower and sliding over its slick surface in a half hazard fashion.

  Immediately she was covered in a mountain of thick, pale blue foam which came pouring out like an avalanche to cover her from head to toe.

  “Oh!” she gasped and got bubbles in her mouth and up her nose. They tasted like a mouthful of soapy flowers and there was more and more coming all the time.

  Coughing and choking, Emily scrabbled at the black square, trying to stop the mountains of foam that were still pouring out. The whole stall was filling up with alarming rapidity and she was afraid she might suffocate in the billowy blue mess.

  The foam stopped when she swiped, replaced by a drenching rain of freezing water that took her breath away. Emily couldn’t even scream this time—she was too shocked as a deluge of what felt like ice water poured over her. Reaching for the panel once more, she tried to turn the cold water off, only to be drenched in more foam—this time purple. A third swipe resulted in water so hot it melted the foam instantly—and felt like it might melt the skin right off her body at the same time.

  With a shriek, Emily jumped back. Cornered at the back of the stall, away from the lava-hot waterfall from hell, she hud
dled in a ball in the half-melted foam, trying not to touch her breasts which were throbbing and aching miserably. So much for the best shower she had ever had! Now she just wanted to cry!

  “Emily? Emily?”

  The low, familiar voice filled her with shame. Oh, no—she really didn’t want Tragar to see her completely naked! It was bad enough that he’d seen so much of her when she was only wearing her nighty—but that at least hid her stomach and thighs. Body image issues rose up to crowd her mind and she gathered as much of the melting blue and purple foam around herself as she could before answering him.

  “I’m fine. Just…the water got a little hot is all.”

  He stuck his head in the shower and put a hand in the steaming waterfall before drawing back with a hiss.

  “A little hot?” Quickly he did something to the panel and then felt the water again. “All right—that’s more like it. Come rinse off.”

  “No.” Emily stayed stubbornly at the back of the stall. “You leave first.”

  “Not until I’m certain you’re all right.” He frowned at her. “Come here, Emily—let me be certain you’re not burned.”

  The commanding tone of his voice couldn’t be disobeyed. Reluctantly, she rose and stepped forward into the water which was now barely tepid. She turned her back to him and rinsed away the foam but Tragar wasn’t to be denied. He was half in the shower with her now, staying mostly out of the flow of the water though he didn’t seem to care very much if he got wet.

  “Let me see you,” he said, a little more gently. “Please, Emily—I just want to be sure you’re all right.”

  “I don’t want to.” She could hear the tears in her own voice but couldn’t seem to stop them. “Please, Tragar, just leave me alone!”

  “I can’t do that. Not until I know you’re not hurt.” His voice became gentler still. “What is it, Khalla? I’ve already seen and tasted your breasts—why are you afraid to let me see you now?”

  “It’s just…” Years of unhappiness with her body rose in her until she almost couldn’t breathe. “It’s just that I’m not someone you really want to see naked,” she finished in a defiant voice that still wavered just a little with tears. “I’m not exactly thin, you know?”