Kiera's Moon Read online

  Three figures emerged to block her path. She skidded to a halt, chest heaving.

  C’mon, Leyon! she ordered silently.

  One headed for her, and she turned to run, only to collide with a large figure at her back.

  A’Ran!

  Her body jolted in recognition as their bodies met, even though his face was shadowed. He pushed her behind him, sword in one hand. She took a few steps back and flinched at the first silent contact of his sword with another’s. Her eyes pinned to the scene, she couldn’t help the emotions spinning through her. Happiness, fear, awe …

  The gloves were off this night. A’Ran wasn’t sparring; he fought for blood. She watched him systematically behead or run through the three men, her stomach churning at the sight of so much death. He snatched her hand when none of his opponents remained standing and ran with her toward the crevice.

  The path to the bottom was unguarded. He pushed her down it and stayed near the top, looking for other attackers. She trotted to the bottom and waved her band before the access pad, waiting as the stone door opened.

  He joined her and took her hand again, pulling her into the hall. The door closed behind them as he strode through the lighted, vacant halls, following a familiar path on the way to the chamber. They entered, and she looked up at him, afraid to address the fierce warrior. Only when they were sealed inside the massive cave did he release her.

  He said nothing but withdrew a communications device and began issuing calm commands to his men. Shaken, she leaned against the nearest wall and sank into a sit, disgusted to see there was blood on her clothing.

  “Nishani, I must leave you here,” he said without turning.

  She said nothing, scared yet unsure what else she felt. He turned when she didn’t respond, and his gaze softened. He crossed to her and knelt. His dark eyes took in her face, and she felt her heart quicken for a different reason. She found herself breathing him in, aching for him to touch her as he had not so long ago.

  “Are you well?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she replied.

  He studied her.

  “Go. I’ll be safe here,” she heard herself say.

  “This is not my nishani,” he said quietly. He cupped her cheek with one of his large hands, and she was embarrassed to feel tears gather.

  She wasn’t expecting his kiss or the passion behind it. He kissed her hard and deep, his intensity making her hunger for him flare even as she tried to suppress it. Her senses filled with his taste, scent, the heat of his body, enveloping her yet never enough. He withdrew and kissed her cheeks and forehead, then drew her into a hug. She savored the feel of his body against hers, unable to deny what she felt toward him and terrified he’d never feel the same.

  “I must go. I will return soon,” he said, releasing her. She nodded. His dark gaze lingered on her before he stalked to the door. She had the unsettling feeling that he was about to disappear from her life forever.

  She rose after a few minutes and stretched. The single flower still stood in the fountain, and she crossed to it. It grew straight from the stone; there was no dirt or planter. She sat on the edge of the fountain and looked up at the glyphs on the wall.

  The sound of a muffled explosion from beyond the door made her rise. Silence followed, and she wondered if her paranoia had caused her to imagine it. She’d just sat down again when the inner door exploded into rocks that flew across the room. She ducked behind the fountain and saw someone shoving the broken stone door open, shocked to recognize the man leading the charge into the sacred chamber.

  *

  A’Ran fought his way through the Qatwali invaders to the secret battle planner hidden within one of the hills. He broke free of attackers before reaching the camouflaged door and waved his band in front of what would look like just another boulder to someone unfamiliar with the path.

  His legs trembled, but he forced himself on. The small chamber holding the battle planner was silent, and he waved the computer on, unable to hold himself up any longer. He dropped to his knees, his body shuddering at the energy— Anshan’s life force. It surged up through his feet to his head, making his whole body tingle as the planet welcomed back its king.

  He hadn’t set foot on the planet since being made the dhjan upon his father’s death. The feel of the planet’s life force through his body was staggering, the sensation similar to what he felt the first time he’d met his nishani. He’d dreaded his first steps on his planet, fearing it, too, would’ve lost faith in him.

  The planet welcomed him home, reminded him that his own life— and those of his people— was tied to it. The initial sensations passed, and he breathed deeply, finally able to focus as his body adjusted to the feel of the energy flowing through him.

  He’d wondered what his initial greeting as dhjan would feel like. It stunned him to feel the planet breathing, struggling back to life after hovering so long on the edge of death. The sensations humbled him, and he thought again of Mansr’s words, that he needed to be more than an exiled war planner. His planet needed him. His people needed him. He’d waited too long for the Council to support him instead of returning to the planet that needed him.

  A’Ran sat at the battle planner and watched the scenes before him. Qatwali was as ruthless in battle as he was. That they’d ally with the dishonorable Yirkin was his fault; his affront at taking Kiera from them was enough for them to overcome their distaste at dealing with the Yirkin, whom they viewed as even less civilized than the Anshan. His reinforcements would come too late; he had one choice to save his planet.

  He touched the communications device to activate it.

  “Mansr.”

  There was a pause, then his uncle’s familiar, strained voice.

  “Here, A’Ran.”

  “I’m at the battle planner. My communications capability is limited. I want you to issue the evacuation order for the planet.”

  “Evacuate?” Mansr asked. “The space battle won’t allow anyone off-planet.”

  “Qatwali is distracted with the land battle and the Yirkin won’t be looking where we launch.”

  “I’ll issue the warning. We’ll need half a day to evacuate the planet.”

  “You’ll have it,” A’Ran said. “I’ll activate the emergency facilities on the moon.”

  “Very well. Is nishani well?”

  “Yes, uncle, she’s safe.”

  There was a click as Mansr closed the connection. A’Ran returned his attention to the battles twirling before him on the planner. He watched, confirming the far side of the planet wasn’t the focus of either Yirkin or Qatwali forces.

  He sat back for a moment, heart pounding at the prospect of what he was about to do. Nishani had proven she could bring the planet back to life. She had looked less than happy about staying, but she would do her duty, as would he. He would decimate all life on the planet using the very ore that had brought his family wealth and power. The dust emitted from mining the ore was poisonous in its raw state. Long ago, his ancestors had rigged the planet to blow the mines and turn the atmosphere into a toxic mix no one would survive.

  Long ago, it had been a negotiating point with the Council: allow Anshan to control its own mines without Council peacekeepers’ presence, or the planet would be too polluted for anyone to mine at all. What the Council didn’t know was that Anshan would heal with its nishani, even if it took many sun-cycles for the mining industry to repair itself. The Council had only thought the Anshan rulers barbaric enough to threaten to blow up the only source of ore.

  A’Ran’s fingers flew over the command panel as he thought of how wise his forefathers had turned out to be. They’d been right to use force over reason with the Council, a lesson he’d learned almost too late.

  He spent a few hours setting up the explosive mechanisms and issuing new battle plans for the space war and ordered his ground troops to evacuate the planet. The Qatwali would think themselves winning as his men withdrew. He watched as Mansr expertly organized the evacu
ations and aligned the space battle to keep the Yirkins’ attention off the ships fleeing the planet’s surface for the nearest moon, Kiera. Talal had been right; Kiera was a fateful name for his nishani!

  He opened the communications device and touched two buttons on the flat control panel.

  “A’Ran?” Jetr sounded curious.

  “I apologize for disturbing you,” A’Ran said.

  “I am pleased to hear from you. Where are you?”

  “Anshan. I need your help, my friend,” A’Ran said. “I’m evacuating the planet. The moon can hold us, but we’ll need food and supplies until the space battle is over.”

  “Evacuating?”

  “You’re my only true ally of any influence with the Council. Keep them out of the galaxy.”

  “I’ll dispatch my own cargo ships to your moon. The Council will want to be involved, even if this becomes an intra-galaxy war.”

  “It’s been an intra-galaxy war for generations!” he said with some impatience. “Let us end it once and for all, not with the Council manipulating each of us for its benefit!”

  “You are forbidden from destroying another’s planet,” Jetr reminded him. “The force of the Council will be at your door if you touch Qatwal.”

  “I’m destroying all Qatwali and Yirkin on the surface of Anshan. I don’t care about Qatwal or destroying its people. I want my planet back, Jetr, and the Council has done nothing in all these sun-cycles but impede me. Keep them out of the galaxy!”

  “Suns,” Jetr breathed. “I thought the stories of your barbaric forefathers threatening to destroy Anshan were bluffs.”

  “They weren’t,” A’Ran confirmed. “And soon, you’ll see just how serious they were.”

  “I’ll do what you ask, A’Ran, but isn’t there another way?”

  “No,” A’Ran said. “There’s not.”

  Jetr was quiet for a long moment before he said, “Very well.”

  “Thank you, friend.”

  “You’re welcome, A’Ran. I have some work to do to keep the Council out of your way. Contact me when you’re safe,” Jetr said.

  “I will.”

  A’Ran closed the connection and checked the evacuation progress. He was pleased to see it was nearly complete. The civilians were off the planet while his armies remained. He set the timer for the explosions to start on the opposite side of the planet, startled when the first went off as soon as he gave the order. Just as fast, Mansr called him.

  “The warriors aren’t off the planet yet!” came his uncle’s surprised voice.

  “It started too soon. I just issued the evacuation order for those remaining. The mines will chain-detonate. Get everyone off now!” A’Ran ordered. He watched the visual before him as one mine, then the next and the next, exploded and spewed toxic dust into the atmosphere. They were going fast, much faster than he expected.

  “I’m on my way to get you and nishani,” Mansr said.

  A’Ran stood, furious the timing was early. He shut down the battle planner and locked it. As he emerged into the early morning sun, he was again surprised to see clouds already forming over the eastern horizon.

  He ran toward the sacred temple, suddenly thrown off his feet as a mine in the valley where his men were based exploded. Fountains shot up from the newly formed lake nearby, and the ground rumbled again. The explosions were coming faster, and he launched to his feet, ignoring the bruises and scrapes along his side.

  Mansr’s small spacecraft dropped from the sky and hovered above him, following as he darted toward the sacred cave. Another nearby explosion knocked him off balance. He caught himself against a boulder in time to see the ground ahead of him ripple, tear, and fold.

  The craft above him opened its door and lowered itself as close as it dared to the ground. A’Ran launched himself upwards, catching the door as the ground beneath him crumbled and gave. The door pulled him in, and he sat in the doorway, coughing at the ore dust cloud and staring.

  His destination, the cave hidden at the end of the draw where he’d left nishani, had been swallowed.

  “Mansr, take us lower!” he ordered.

  “A’Ran.”

  Mansr’s calm voice sent a tremor through him.

  “Lower, Mansr!” he said again.

  “There’s no life anywhere down there. The temple is gone.”

  A’Ran heard Mansr’s words as if in a dream. Mansr closed the door as another mine exploded and guided the spacecraft farther off the ground. A’Ran crossed to the cockpit and gazed at the viewer.

  There was nothing but a gaping chasm where the temple had been. Mansr still scanned for signs of life, and A’Ran watched as they grew farther from the temple.

  He’d left her there to die, assuming she’d be safer in the temple than anywhere else. He watched explosions wrack his planet until they rose high enough that the toxic dust storm he’d started marred the surface of the planet from view.

  The space battle stopped completely as Qatwali, Anshan, and Yirkin alike watched the devastation of his planet. A’Ran could only stare. He heard Mansr issue orders to others to rally on the moon and Jetr’s voice come over the speakers. None of their words registered, nothing but the sick feeling at the pit of his stomach. His people were safe. His planet was destroyed, yet all he could think about was her.

  “A’Ran!” Mansr shouted. “Suns, man, I need your help here!”

  The words jarred him out of his daze, and he blinked, turning to look at Mansr. The momentary pause of the space battle quickly turned to chaos, and Mansr was struggling to outmaneuver the ships darting away from the planet. A’Ran took control of the ship, forcing himself to focus.

  Forgive me, Kiera.

  He hadn’t just destroyed any hope his planet had of recovering, he’d destroyed the woman he needed, too.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Romas, no!” Her latest protest was lost on the warriors, who dragged her aboard yet another ship. “I want to stay!”

  “Not with these people,” he said, once again the egotistical protector who knew better than her. His quick pace forced her to trot to keep up, and the two warriors behind her let her go to pursue their leader. “I promised Evey I’d rescue you when we went to war.”

  “I don’t need rescuing!” she argued. “I want to stay there with A’Ran!”

  Romas whirled at the name, and she ran into him before taking a quick step back. His gaze was cold, his jaw ticking.

  “That barbarian has dishonored you and my family! If it were up to me, I’d take you back to Qatwal and mate you to one of my brothers, but Evey forbade it,” he snapped. “You should be grateful I rescued you before he could sully you.”

  Her face felt hot as her fear turned to anger. He spun and strode away before she could formulate a response. She continued after him.

  “Romas, he’s my mate. I can’t just leave him!” she tried again. “And I have to stay and help the planet.”

  “The decision is made. You’re going back to your planet. Evey was right— it was a mistake to bring you with us.”

  His words stung, and any further argument died on her lips as she realized how serious he was. She stopped in the hall. He motioned for the guards to take her down another corridor, and she went.

  She awoke from the nightmare she’d had every night since being dragged off Anshan. It was past sunrise, so she rose and flung off her bed covers. Her things and most of the furniture had been returned with her to the row house. She’d refused to unpack everything, instead digging out only what she needed as the days passed.

  She didn’t expect her sense of loss to be so deep. It’d hit her on the spaceship ride home and had only grown deeper. Romas hadn’t even accompanied her to the row house but sent her on a small shuttle to the local park and left her there. No farewell, no apology, nothing. She’d cried for two days before finally realizing on day three that no one was coming for her.

  She looked around her room. Her feet were cold on the wooden floor, and she’d caught herse
lf looking down many times to see if she made grass grow here, too. She didn’t, and the disappointment brought tears to her eyes once again. Wiping them away, she padded into the hall, down the stairs, and to her studio, which overflowed with paintings she’d done in the eight days since returning. She stood before her favorite, an image of A’Ran the way she remembered him from the day they’d first met.

  Even the sight of him immortalized in paints made her chest tight and her knees weak. She hadn’t realized what she felt for him until it was too late to tell him. She may have been a duty for him, but he’d been so much more … and Anshan…

  Her gaze went to her cold feet again. Anshan’s energy had kept her feet warm, even on the rocky terrain. Grass had sprung up from boulders she touched, and she’d felt truly a part of her world for once in her life.

  And now she had … nothing. She shivered and twisted to see the rest of her paintings. Talal, their home in exile, the canyon filled with hulking grey ships in the moonlight near Romas’s home, the flower in the fountain of the sacred temple.

  She missed them. She sat down at her desk and grabbed the waiting sketchpad. Food had become an overlooked stranger, and she’d found herself leaving her studio only for the bathroom and the bedroom. Otherwise, she drew and painted. Today, she returned to the drawing she started long ago on the portrait she had intended to give Evelyn for her wedding.

  Her eyes watered as she recalled when she’d last worked on it, the night she was kidnapped. She’d thought that the worst night of her life until now. Wiping her tears, she concentrated on sketching.

  The sun brightened up the studio a short time later, her reminder it was time for her midmorning walk. She’d forced herself to walk daily, if for no other reason than to keep her mind off the paintings and memories.

  The Monterey mists were in full effect, filtering the sunlight. Moisture clung to her skin as she started down the familiar path to Lover’s Lane. The ocean was hidden beneath the fog and the air chilled, so she walked fast until she warmed up. She was happy for the mist; it kept the seaside lovers off the Lane and made her feel more invisible. She’d been ignoring Kevin’s calls for two days without caring he was the only person who could help her put food on the table.