Divine Charity

Chapter Twenty: Verserka'al

Lena sat on the edge of the combative platform, swinging her legs back and forth, waiting for the signal that it was time to begin. She watched idly as the ship's warriors moved about. Some exercised, some sparred, most prepared for what was to come. These next three grueling days of testing were all that was left, and Lena would learn if she was good enough to earn the title of verserka'al.

She waited patiently, her eyes scanning faces and forms as her mind wandered to the night before. They hadn't gotten any sleep. Khamuel had been serious when he said he wanted her again and again. He'd been tender and rough, and all things in between. The staying power of an alien in the throes of lust was not something Lena had ever experienced from an ind-Earth male. Not that she had any complaints. She was sore in all the right places and had been perfectly sated before the night ended. Then, as the time for Lena to get ready came, they'd cleansed together, and Khamuel helped gather her gear. He'd walked with her to the ovelum, wished her luck, then walked away as if he were already putting her out of his mind. If the thought of being married to a man who distrusted her as much as she did him wasn't such a daunting reality, Lena might have asked him to stay with her a little longer. It would be nice to have his support while she waited for the event to begin.

When Fiadn made his appearance, her eyes focused on him like a heat-seeking missile. Lena felt her body reacting to the pulsing rage and adrenaline within her; felt her eyes change color and her skin toughen in response. Slowly, deliberately, Lena slipped off of her perch and made her way forward. As Fiadn moved around the room, Lena stalked her prey. Completely unaware he was being watched, the large alien male kept busy, stopping here and there to greet people. He laughed. He joked. He instructed.

Lena's black eyes never wavered from his form. Even when she stood directly behind him, Fiadn didn't feel her presence. He was caught completely unaware when she attacked from his flank and landed a solid punch. The strike resounded in a satisfying crack as blood squirted from his nose.

Startled, Fiadn spun and eyed Lena as if she were insane. "Lena!"

"He's my husband?" she demanded. "And you all knew?"

Fiadn dropped his hand from his face, and his countenance turned stony. "'Twas not my place."

"Not your ... Dude ... I'm married!" Her accusatory eyes made it clear that the truce they enacted since freed from her cell may very well be over. Ignoring the interested gazes of everyone around her, Lena shouted. "You told me you were honorable. You told me I could trust you." She shoved him with all her might, making him take a step backward. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Fiadn moved closer to her, knowing she could very well strike him again, and he would allow it. "Forgive me. I am honorable, and I am your friend."

Bitterness shone in her eyes, but before she could speak, the signal was given. As the first blush of adrenaline coursed through her, Lena shook off her anger and joined the formation. She put everything else out of her mind and squared her shoulders. It was time to do work.

***

The coliseum where a good portion of the events would take place was a cavernous dark room with enough seating to fit several thousand and the stands were full to brimming. Khamuel settled himself into his throne. The pomposity of the antique seat never appealed to him. He only ever used it for occasions such as this.

Gala appeared, her elegant figure guiding the twins carefully as she helped them up the steps that led to where Khamuel sat. By his left and right, two smaller seats were in place. One for Gala and one for Pnina, whom Khamuel spotted jogging through the crowd to take her place.

The twins climbed into Khamuel's lap uninvited, yet not unwelcome. Khamuel chuckled at Leila's dirty face. "What have you gotten into, hertlyfa?"

"Crama cups." Leila licked her fingers. "A lot of them."