Honored Vow

“All of you, everyone in this room, speak your lineage to me
    now.”
    “I’m Miguel Garza,” a voice answered, deep and husky, “semel of
    the tribe of Deshret; this is my sylvan, Adam Manuel, and my sheseru,
    Taylor Pang. I have many khatyu in the hall, as is my right.”
    “I’m Justin Cho,” I heard Logan’s friend say, his voice resonant and
    smoky-sounding, “semel of the tribe of Qebui from San Francisco, and I
    have my sheseru, Sean Li, with me, and two of my khatyu. I am here at the
    request of your semel.”
    Domin nodded and cleared his throat before he bowed and stepped
    sideways. I was suddenly facing the room. I looked over at the man I
    didn’t know, Miguel Garza. He was tall and handsome with dark-brown
    hair, broad shoulders, and warm eyes. I went down to one knee.
    “I beg your forgiveness, semel; I did not mean to drag your people
    through the shift and meant no disrespect to them or you by my actions. I
    am not myself and apologize deeply.”
    His jaw clenched as he took one step forward.
    It happened fast: a hand fisted in my hair, and my head was yanked
    back sharply. I couldn’t stifle the gasp.
    “Would you leverage your power against that of his semel?” Domin
    asked.
    I realized that Domin held me, and even though I could shift and get
    free, it felt too good to fight. I could feel the heat rolling off of my
    maahes, and inhaled his delicious smell. I had no idea the man’s scent
    could become warm vanilla and salty sweat all at the same time. And he
    was so strong, I could feel it, not just physically but inside… he wouldn’t
    break; he would stay, he wouldn’t run. The man was powerful, and I
    needed my mate to be, or I could never submit.
    “Domin,” I breathed out, wanting him to hold me tighter, hold me
    down. I wanted to feel the weight of him and the heat of his body…. I
    needed….
    “Yuri,” was all he said.

    Honored Vow

    69

    Instantly, I was lifted and slammed hard into the cool glass of the
    window. The shock of the motion, the cold surface on my skin, cleared my
    head.
    “If I can control my shift,” I heard Miguel say, “then I will be
    allowed to taste him. You have no say. There are two of you; if the semel
    of Qebui and his men join you, then six, but even now I see his resolve
    crumble.”
    I leaned sideways around Yuri and saw Justin shivering with pain.
    It was all my fault.
    I was about to put Domin and Yuri in danger, and that could not
    happen. They would both sacrifice their lives to keep me safe, to honor me
    and Logan, and it was shaping up to be a very one-sided fight.
    Shit.
    Without a word, I stepped around Yuri. “Come, semel, I will let you
    feel my power, if that is what you would have me do, but bring your
    yareah so she might see.”
    “You mistake my need as mine alone, reah. My yareah and I will
    devour you together.”
    “Is that so?”
    “Yes, that is so. Show me your power and then I’ll show you mine. I
    will have you there on that bed, and your men will watch and do nothing.”
    My stomach twisted into a knot of cold anger.
    “I will call my yareah; she’ll be pleased. Normally we have other
    women in our bed; another man will be a nice change. She will take you
    inside of her while I bury myself in you,” he said as he leered at me. “I
    cannot wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”
    “My mate will kill you for this trespass.”
    “He can try.”
    Logan.
    At the thought of his name, I was all reah again but with the
    nekhene’s simmering anger.
    Where was the reah’s mate?
    “You will be mine reah.”
    No one would ever disrespect Logan Church. The rage that had been
    rising slowly boiled over in an instant, rolling over my skin and exploded
    out of me like a furnace blast, engulfing the entire room in heat.

    70

    Mary Calmes

    Domin went to his knees; so did Justin and his sheseru, falling
    forward, hands on the carpet, bracing against the flash of scorching power.
    All the others were on the floor, writhing in pain, the semel, sylvan, and
    sheseru of the tribe of Deshret already beginning their inexorable shift to
    panther.
    “How dare you think you can touch me? Only my mate touches me,”
    I roared at them all.
    “Yes.” Miguel’s voice was garbled as he sought to control the shift
    by changing into his werepanther form, but I still understood him.
    “Only my mate!”
    His scream was horrible, his transformation freakish as his body
    contorted into an animal. He was not strong enough to