KINSMAN’S OATH By Susan Krinard

Her hatred was an unnecessary complication when there were far less clumsy methods of achieving his end. All they required was patience. His hunger for her remained, but Sihvaaro had taught him well. Let Cynara believe her Reckoning had discouraged him before the battle was joined.

“You are right, Aho’Va,” he said. ‘This body is human. For a time it gave you pleasure. I am grateful for the honor.” He tossed his shirt and trousers over his shoulder and strode for the door.

“Ronan.”

Her voice was so full of regret that he knew his ploy had worked. It was the human way to accept guilt easily. Guilt was a wedge that would leave her vulnerable to him. Next time he would not hesitate to use every means available to defeat her.

“There is no need for more words,” he said. “I understand you.”

“No, Ronan,” she said. “I don’t think you do.”

Her grief was past bearing. He left her, seeking the open air beyond Jesper’s walls. The garden hung heavy with the scent of white flowers. He stripped three of them from their stems before he achieved tranquillity.

We are not lifemates, she had said. Of course they were not. Humans did not truly lifemate, heart and soul and body joined until death. Even if she were shaauri, he could not win her unless he cast away his purpose, his very reason for being.

The stars seemed unusually bright here in this high place, as they had been on the mountain with Sihvaaro. The Dharmans had not yet polluted their skies with countless motor vehicles and factories.

The technology Ronan brought back from the Alliance would prevent humans from polluting shaauri worlds and culture. This alien drive the Dharmans and their allies had discovered—no human could have invented such a marvel, but they were quick enough to exploit it.

The Pegasus was only a prototype. She carried among her crew a Persephonean observer—Janek—because the Concordat was eager to produce an entire fleet of similar hybrid ships. Once the Alliance—the Nine Worlds and the Concordat—had many such ships, they could escape shaauri vessels at will. Nothing could prevent the humans’ eventual expanse into shaauri-ja or inhibit their rapacious appetite for conquest.

Ronan crouched and ran his fingers over the groomed lawn Magnus Jesper kept so tame. Tomorrow the Council that ruled the Pegasus and its crew would interrogate him. He must appear cooperative and innocent of all deception, playing upon their hatred for the shaauri with the display of his scars.

Above all, he must sustain his guard against Dharman telepaths of more formidable talent. He had no doubt this Council would employ them, if its own members were not sufficiently skilled themselves.

They, like Cynara, would not be prepared for the enemy they faced.

Ronan scattered white petals at his feet and cleared his mind for a long night of meditation.

* * *

Chapter 14

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Breakfast at Jesper’s table was not nearly as tense as Cynara had expected. Ronan came from his room, greeted Jesper courteously, and took a place at the end with an impartial glance in Cynara’s direction.

Lizbet seemed aware of a change, though she kept her thoughts to herself. Jesper made oblivious small talk. Earlier that morning Cynara had given her uncle some idea that Ronan’s telepathic skills were stronger than she’d suspected, but she hadn’t confided the whole truth. Not even to him.

When the conversation turned at last to the Council meeting, Ronan listened and responded exactly the same to Cynara and her uncle.

Last night did not happen. Ronan had taken her warning to heart. All his restrained anger had vanished, and with it the bond that had begun to grow between them. The incredible bond that had convinced her she dared not trust herself to protect the knowledge she carried in her mind.

Madness, this nagging suspicion that Ronan might betray her and the Pegasus. She’d had ample proof on Bifrost that he could be trusted with the lives of her crew. Her heart, the one Dharman men would call weak, insisted that her decision had been right.

But Ronan had learned how to wield his lost gift like a master, and even her Kinsman-built shields weren’t meant to hold off prolonged, determined probing by an expert.

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