Raised to Kill (Kindred Tales)

When she had first come to the Kindred Mother Ship, everything had seemed so simple. She would allow the evil one to take her and then kill him by driving her skora into his heart. After that, she would sing her lament, press the transmitter to let her people know the deed was done and the Blood Feud satisfied, and take the poison pill to end her own existence, hopefully before the Kindred could torture her to death instead.

But now…now everything was all mixed up and complicated!

Allara still heard that little voice in her head—the one that sounded like her aunt—shaming her for not doing her duty, for allowing herself to have feelings for the big Kindred, and for touching instruments as a woman must never do. But she also heard another voice—a voice that had been muted all her life and was only now ringing clear—a voice that sounded more like her own.

This second voice asked—very reasonably it seemed to Allara—why the Blood Feud must be satisfied at all. True, her ancestress had been taken by the Kindred and her Song had been lost forever. But that was in the distant past—three and thirty generations ago. Why should Allara have to kill the man she was coming to care for so dearly and then lose her own life just to avenge a centuries-old abduction?

Also, she was beginning to doubt what had happened to her ancestress was an abduction at all. She had probably gone with the Kindred warrior who had taken her willingly and then just decided not to go back. After all, what woman would want to lose the freedom to sing her own Song and learn the Songs of instruments which she would never be allowed to touch among the Q’ess? She had probably fallen in love with her new freedoms—and with her Kindred husband—and decided never to leave.

Just as you’re falling in love with Brand, whispered a little voice in her head.

Allara tried to push the little voice away—she couldn’t love the enemy, after all! But she wasn’t entirely successful. She couldn’t deny that at the very least, she was incredibly physically attracted to the big Kindred.

Everything about him seemed made especially to draw her in, from his warm, spicy scent which was somehow both arousing and comforting at the same time, to his deep, moun horn voice, to the feel of his arms around her holding her close to his big, muscular body. There was nothing about him that reminded her even remotely of one of the men of the Q’ess and yet his differences drew her to him strongly.

The way he treated her was so completely opposite from the way the men of her people treated their women. He never shouted at her or beat her or punished her by restricting her Song—one of the worst and yet also the most common punishments a wife could receive on Allara’s planet. Instead, he was kind and loving and attentive to her and he encouraged her to pursue her music and to sing her Song in any way that felt right to her.

Also, since she had lost her fear of him, Allara found him so handsome she couldn’t seem to stop kissing him and wanting to be near him. Especially when he started humming or singing—making that deep, seductive Song of his—she felt almost magnetically drawn to him. Her body never failed to react to the feeling of his deep tones caressing her and she found herself wanting to feel more than just his Song on her skin—she wanted his big hands and his warm lips on her as well.

Her aunt’s voice in her head constantly told her this was wrong, of course, but Allara was finding it easier and easier to put that voice out of her head. After all, there was nothing she could do about completing her mission until her new husband took her and filled her with his seed. And since he was following the rules of the Claiming Period so strictly, she had at least three more weeks to figure out exactly what she was going to do after that happened.

After it happens, you’ll feel differently, her aunt’s voice whispered in her head. After he tears you and leaves you bleeding, you’ll find it easy enough to plunge your skora into his heart!

Allara pushed the voice aside uneasily. To be honest, the thought of her new husband’s enormous shaft inside her was the only fear she had left of Brand. He had yet to let her see him naked—though he had seen her exposed several times—so she wasn’t exactly sure how big it was. But from the size of the bulge in his sleep trousers after she had been touching herself for him, she imagined it was very large indeed.

I suppose I’ll find out exactly how big it is tonight, she thought, staring at her husband across the table on the first night of their Bathing Week. For how can we take a bath together without him exposing himself completely at last?