"Oh!" Jasmine squirmed upright and unwittingly bumped against his groin, forcing a grunt from him. "Sorry," she said, but she couldn't help looking down with a smile. Keilor was as eager to be with her as she was to be with him. The first chance she got...

Forcing her attention away from him, she held up her wrists so that he could see the silver twined around her forearms. "Mathin got me a symbiont that fixed it. See?"

His reaction was not what she'd expected.

Eyes widening, Keilor bared his teeth in rage and snarled at Mathin, "As if we did not have enough problems! By what right did you do this to her? How dare you use my wife to cause trouble?"

Mathin's rough voice was glacial. "She was dying, maggot brain. Had I not *caused trouble' you would not be holding her now."

Worried, Jasmine's gaze swung between the two men. "What's wrong? It didn't hurt me, Keilor."

"You've done nothing, love. Be still," Keilor told her, and said to Mathin with barely restrained violence, "She would not have been in that condition if you hadn't botched your job in the first place. What kind of savage-"

Mathin's eyes ignited gold and he leaned towards Keilor with a curl to his lip. "I am not invincible, any more than you are," he said in warning. "Could you have fought off Yesande's garrison and guaranteed you could have brought a sick woman through unscathed? I think not. I traded a small hurt for her life, and a complication for the same. You could not be there to see to her, so do not judge me."

Before Keilor could say more, Jasmine clamped a hand over his mouth. "It was my arm, Keilor, and I forgive him. Maybe there was another way, but I wouldn't have gotten out of there on my own. I'm just glad-" She choked up, fighting to beat back the remembered terror. "The drugs were making me..." She closed her eyes, feeling again the nightmare images. "I wanted only you, and I kept saying that, and making them go away, but I was losing my mind, and beginning to see you, and if he hadn't-" A tremor wracked her body, and he pulled her close, stroking her back soothingly. "Please don't fight. Just take me home. I just want to go home."

Out of respect for Jasmine's feelings, Keilor and Mathin ignored each other for the rest of the journey. They would resolve matters between themselves at another time, where Jasmine couldn't see it. In the meantime, Keilor wanted to know everything that had happened to Jasmine while she was away.

Tucking a stray bit of her hair behind her ear, he asked, "So what did you think of the swamps?" He surveyed her ragged tunic and badly patched pants. "They don't seem to have agreed with you."

Rolling her eyes, she nevertheless sat up, glad to share her adventures with him. "What's not to like? Eating mystery creatures-I swear, if anyone says the word escargot to me, ever again..." She grimaced. "These guys might be handy with a sword, Keilor, but the next time, could you send someone who can cook?"

He grinned. There would never be a next time, but he wouldn't interrupt his wife while she was being entertaining.

Looking stoic, she said without enthusiasm, "I now know about twenty-five different edible plants that grow in the swamp and how to find and prepare them, but not one of them tastes worth a darn. It doesn't matter anyway, though, because after Mathin gets a hold of them, they all come out tasting like salt."

Disgusted, she went on, "Finding clean water is a chore in itself, and you can almost forget about taking a bath-not that I could, with three guys constantly under foot, and none of them willing to leave me alone for even five minutes."

"We turned our backs," Raziel, who'd shifted back to normal, protested vehemently what was obviously a sore subject. "Your woman has a bizarre fixation with modesty, Keilor. Even in the middle of nowhere, without a stranger in sight, she insists that all present turn their backs just so she can wash! I've never seen anything so peculiar."

"Yes," Mathin chimed in, forgetting for a moment his truce of silence. "And the one time she saw poor Raziel washing in the morning she screamed and threw a tantrum that nearly brought Yesande's hunters down on our heads." He glowered. "We had to ride hard that day to avoid them."

"Oh, yeah?" Jasmine countered, deciding to air her own grievances. "At least I wasn't the one who nearly got us eaten by that water snake." Eyes huge, she told Keilor, "It was as big around as a barrel, and he insisted after it swam by it wouldn't come back for some time and it was safe to cross." Disgusted, she said, "Well, he was right, it didn't, but he hadn't counted on the one that was following it, just two minutes behind. I've never been so scared in my life!"

By the time they reached the citadel, Jasmine had managed to paint her companions as heroes and friends using unflattering words and grumbled complaints.

Keilor began to feel a little jealous. Maybe taking his wife to the medics would be the second thing he'd do.

As they approached the busy stables with a jingle of bits and the huffing of hard working stags, Jasmine finally remembered to ask, "How is Rihlia?"

"Pregnant," he answered succinctly, leaping off and lifting her down. Suddenly boneless, she stared at him, and he grinned. "Don't look so surprised. Jayems has been working hard on that particular project since the moment they mated."

Jasmine blushed and allowed him to take her hand and tow her toward the citadel. Rihlia was pregnant? She was going to be an aunt! She was so preoccupied, she barely noticed where they were going in such a rush. Keilor opened the door to her room just as she asked, "When? How-"

Slamming the door closed with one booted foot and locking it, Keilor shut off the flow of words with his hungry kiss. His loving was fast and needy, but then so was hers. He, however, was quicker at stripping her. Her hands kept getting distracted by the sight and intoxicating feel of his bare arms and naked chest.

They didn't make it to the bed.

CHAPTER 24.

Jasmine was slick and ready, but she cried out and stiffened as her husband slid in fast. Instantly he stopped. "What's wrong?"

She ducked her head. "Um, it's been a while."

Keilor cocked his head and moved a fraction in experiment. His eyes flared. "You're a little tight." A shimmer obscured his vision, and he eased off his wife, untangling his pants from his ankles to hide his reaction.

A dark part of him had writhed with fear that while she'd been away from him, she'd learn to scorn him for his failure to protect her and turn to another as more worthy. This physical evidence of her loyalty both humbled and shamed him. She deserved so much more-a man who wouldn't shame her.

Since he could never tell her his thoughts, he showed her instead. With infinite tenderness he kissed her and carried her to the bed, showing her with his body how much he cherished her and the gift of her fidelity. Hearts and souls communed through hands and lips, speaking of a connection that was more than skin deep. It was a beautiful moment, and when he finally took her body, they truly became one.

A long while and much loving later, Jasmine snuggled with sleepy satisfaction against her husband, reveling in the feeling of being held. Her languidly stroking hand encountered her dragonfly pendant, and she smiled, fingering it. Sighing with pleasure, she told him, "You sure know how to spoil a girl, honey."

Keilor chuckled and hugged her in response. "I've thought the same about you." Remembering the agony of the last few months, he felt the need to reassure her, "It will not happen again."

Jasmine rose up and looked at him, frowning. "My abduction? I wouldn't worry about that, hon. It's not likely to happen twice in a lifetime."

He sat up, spilling her off his chest and leaving her bewildered. "It should not have happened once."

"How could we have known what was going to happen?" she protested, watching him pull on his pants, arming himself. "It's not your fault."

Pulling on his vest and answering her with a carefully neutral tone, he asked, "Then whose was it?" Before she could defend him further, he went on, "I am not only your husband, but Master of the Hunt. Your theft was my responsibility." He went to her wardrobe and collected a clean pair of pants and a shirt for her. "Come, I want the medic to examine you." He glanced at her forearms. "We will see if he can remove the symbiont while we are there."

Troubled by his attitude, Jasmine pulled the covers closer and asked with deceptive quietness, "What if I don't want it removed?"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That is not an option, and you are seeing the medic regardless. I want to be certain of your health. Come." Again he held out her clothes, and this time she reluctantly took them, responding to the note of genuine concern in his voice. They could fight about the symbiont latter.

"She's in perfect health," the medic pronounced, looking at his clipboard. "In fact, she's better than ever. Her blood contains more oxygen, her lungs no longer function below average, her circulation has improved, and...." He looked at Keilor significantly. "Pivotal changes have occurred in her reproductive organs."

A muscle ticked in Keilor's jaw. "How pivotal?"

"Crucial," The medic answered just as cryptically.

Keilor's face darkened. "Can you remove the symbiont?"

There was a pause. "Well, if-" the medic began, but Jasmine cut him off.

"What are you saying?" Jasmine demanded. Had the symbiont somehow made her fertile? Hope surged within her. Maybe... "Can we have children now?"

"No," Keilor answered, and turned to exit the medic's office.

Alarmed, Jasmine hopped off the examining table and bolted through the door after him. What was the matter? "Keilor! Wait." He slowed a bit, but he didn't look at her. "Don't you want to have kids?" she asked anxiously. If so, why would he be angry about it, unless...

"There will be no children," he told her flatly.

She jerked to a halt, her face paling as she absorbed the shock of his rejection. Feeling wooden, she followed him, holding in the hurt, and a tiny piece of her spirit walled itself away.

"There are political repercussions to your producing a child I am not willing risk at this time," he explained, his eyes facing front.

Jasmine halted and grabbed his vest, forcing him to face her, uncaring that their escort could hear every word. "I don't care about politics," she told him, her throat tight. She searched his eyes for something of his feelings. There was nothing.

"I do," he told her with cold-blooded calm, not a trace of hesitation in his manner. Jasmine's heart shriveled within her, and when he made no move to walk on, she left him.

"I'm two months pregnant," Rihlia informed Jasmine with a radiant smile. She'd nearly squeezed her to death when she'd first seen her and scolded her about taking so long to come home, as if it had been in her power to hurry up. "If it's a girl her middle name will be Jasmine."

Jasmine smiled and hid the sadness in her eyes by reaching for a cookie she didn't want. "I bet your mother is ecstatic."

Rihlia grinned. "And then some. I catch her looking at my stomach and tearing up all the time. I swear she's walking on air. And Jayems..." She sighed dreamily. "He's like a little kid counting the days until Christmas.

"But enough about me! Keilor almost drove us crazy, running around as grim as an undertaker the entire time that you were gone. I'm surprised he's let you out of his sight already."

Jasmine's smile froze. "We've already said our hellos, and he had some important business to take care of, so I came to see you." Then, before Rihlia could ask any more, she launched into a recounting of her adventures, exaggerating and playing down the danger where appropriate. By the time that she was through, her trek through the swamp had taken on the glamour of an adventure, and Rihlia was completely enthralled.

"Wow," she breathed. "I had no idea when Jayems told me about the People-Who-Came-Before, the Ronin, I'd ever get to see one of their critters up close."

Uncertain what her friend was referring to, Jasmine frowned.

Seeing her confusion, Rihlia exclaimed, "The Ronin are the humans who found this place, and the symbionts, before the Haunt arrived. There was a big war over who would keep the land, about sixty years ago. Finally it became clear there wasn't going to be a winner in the situation, and both sides decided it was a stupid waste of time. They moved into the swamps after signing a treaty with us."

Looking like she was about to hand Jasmine a gift, she leaned forward and told Jasmine, "Because of the symbionts, they live as long as we do."

Jasmine stared at her, ramifications and possibilities jogging through her mind. "Are they still there?"

"Sure." Rihlia leaned back and smiled with satisfaction. "I'm surprised you didn't see any."

Jasmine stared out her window, watching the sunset gloss the sky over the sea with bright fuchsia and gold. Her room had been thoroughly cleaned and Keilor's stuff transferred back to his old quarters. The door was locked, and she was in the mood to reinforce her solitude with charmer commands, if necessary.

She would not be the one rejected this time.

What a shame she hadn't figured out Keilor's game before she submitted to a "marriage" with him. Nice and tight, legal and binding, at least here, or so he'd led her to believe. Thanks to a little investigation, she'd discovered that wasn't true. The bond they'd created could be severed with about a year's worth of abstinence.

Tonight would be day one.

No doubt Keilor would put up a fuss. Her lip curled. Honor or some sense of ownership would compel him, not affection. This morning had proven that.

Keilor halted in shock when he saw the red rune of divorce on Jasmine's door, between two unhappy guards, there for the world to see. It had taken most of the day to collect himself after the crippling blow the medic had dealt. To know that his wife could have his children, but to be unable to give them to her because of a law passed years ago...

The devastation had nearly killed him, and he hadn't been as kind to her as he should have been. There had been no way he could have explained to her at the time, though. He'd hadn't had the strength.

Closing his eyes to still the fear and hurt the sight of the rune caused, he stiffened his spine, prepared to erase the battle lines between them. As soon as that was done, he'd erase the cursed rune and get on with their lives as if it had never appeared.

His loose hair brushed against his back as he called through the door to the wife he knew still loved him. Knowing how much she loved it, he'd worn it loose for her. "Dragonfly?"

"You have been served with a divorce, Lord Keilor, given by authority of the Lord Jayems on the basis of your refusal to provide your wife with heirs," his wife's cool voice answered. "It will not serve you to use that name now."

A cold rush flowed through him, but he forced the worst of it back. Jayems hadn't had a choice. No doubt Jayems had already tried to dissuade her with the facts, but Keilor told her anyway, "There is a law against me doing so, as well, wife. The penalty for breaking it is fatal." When she didn't answer right away, he added, putting as much conviction in his voice as he could manage, "I would anyway, if a way could be found-"

"There's no law on my world," Jasmine answered.

Betrayal slapped him. How could she ask him to go to a place where his kind was hunted and feared? To give up the Haunt? What kind of life could he or their children have there? "I have no place on your world," he answered, his voice taunt. "Is our desire to conceive children worth starting a war?"

"Do you really want my answer to that?" came her flippant reply.

"So speaks a woman who has never seen blood!" he snarled, pressing his palms to the door. "Have you ever been in battle? I remember the Symbiont Wars. I will not be the cause of another."

Why could she not understand? The very creature that gave him the ability to give her his child also made her his political enemy. Peace depended on strict segregation of two such volatile races, and as the Master of the Hunt, he couldn't ignore that.

"All the more reason to go our separate ways," came the slightly shaky response.

Hearing her uncertainty, he pressed, "I do want children, Jasmine. There is still no reason why we can't adopt-" Something heavy slammed against the door, shaking it, and he snatched his hands away.

"That's not the issue!" she yelled back.

"Then what is?" he roared, frustration getting the better of him. Thundering rains, what was her problem? No answer came, and he reached for the door. Enough of this. She was his wife!

One of her guards, looking extremely unhappy, got in his way, and the other tensed in readiness. White-hot fury slashed through him as he realized he was legally bound to remain outside his own wife's door until given permission to enter.

Only a lifetime's discipline kept him from thrashing the soldiers-his soldiers!-and doing it anyway.

Instead, he banked his rage and called to his woman with the age-old challenge of the wronged husband. "You are my wife. I am your husband. Promises given, promises taken, Jasmine. You will acknowledge me again, once and for all time. That is my promise." The guards grinned fiercely and saluted him. Keilor nodded back and spun on his heel.

He had a battle to plan.

Jasmine soon found she had no supporters. Her best friend wouldn't speak to her, her adopted family was coldly polite, and all of Keilor's friends, with the exception of Mathin, whose brooding face discouraged discourse, shunned her. Urseya was the only one willing to spend time in her presence, for the express and pointed purpose of fulfilling her promise to train Jasmine.

Keilor did not ignore her. Everywhere she went, she felt his eyes on her, until she began to feel stalked. A week went by, but he never said a word to her, just joined her as she strolled in the gardens, watched her as she practiced with Urseya, or mounted his ugly brute of a stag when she chose to practice riding. He was as unshakable as the plague and as impervious to chill as a mountain.

There was nothing cold about his eyes, however.

Constantly she felt his eyes strip her, and they spoke eloquently of the touches that followed in his mind, torturing her with reminders of a desire that never died, only grew until it coalesced in a seething ball of fire that threatened to escape her command at any moment. Constantly she saw his eyes ignite and his nostrils flare as he drank deep of the scent of her desire. The sight caused her to tremble, and the tiniest of cracks appeared in her wall.

All her life she'd wanted something of her own, something good she'd created that no one else could ever take away. Her logical mind began to nag at her that Keilor and her marriage was that something good, a creation worth saving, but her emotional self refused that logic, bringing the image to her again and again of Keilor's face when he'd asked if the symbiont could be removed. He doesn't want you, that other self whispered.

Rejection. Humiliation. Old foes with heavy chains bound her. Days went by as she let them torture her, wallowing in emotional filth until she couldn't remember what it was like to feel clean and bright and full of hope. Nausea began to plague her, and she didn't want to eat. The exercise she forced on herself in her attempts to forget Keilor wore on her, and she took to sleeping until nearly noon.

It wasn't until two weeks into her emotional paralysis that she finally noticed how tender her breasts had become and recalled that her period should have occurred some time ago.

Relief swamped her. The decision had been taken out of her hands. She was pregnant.

There could be no divorce.

Isfael slapped Keilor on the back, nearly sending him sprawling over the scarred tavern table he shared with Mathin. "I never doubted you for a second!" he told Keilor, grinning fiercely as he claimed a seat.