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  The Given

  ***

  Sharron McClellan

  She was his Given, and because of his pride, he’d failed

  to protect her…

  Talon stood and walked over to the hearth to let the

  Healer have the room she requested.

  “Be patient, my brother,” Lore said. “The Healer is well

  trained, and Aria is stronger than you think.”

  Talon tried to take comfort from the words, but failed.

  “I should have been here.”

  “Then what? Could you take on an entire Reaper

  army?”

  “No, of course not.” Talon’s rising voice was subdued

  with a scathing look from the Healer. “But I could have

  saved her from this tragedy. I could have kept her safe,”

  he finished with a whisper.

  “This is odd.” Both men turned at the Healer’s

  comment. Still partially covered, Aria lay in exhausted sleep

  as the Healer tended her.

  Talon strode over to the bed, fear racing through him.

  “What is it? What is wrong?”

  The Healer continued to clean the blood from Aria’s

  body. “Other than some scrapes, she does not have any

  serious wounds. I did not find any earlier but thought it

  due to the speed of my exam.”

  “Where did all the blood come from? Is it not hers?”

  Glancing at the soiled sheets on the floor, he feared the

  answer.

  The Healer did not reply but continued washing,

  silently assessing her patient. Dipping the rag into the

  now red water, she pulled the blanket aside and began

  washing the blood from Aria’s thighs. Talon did not turn

  away, dreading what the Healer might say but needing to

  know.

  Finally, she stopped, placed the rag back in the bowl

  and left it. Standing, she covered Aria with Talon’s cloak.

  “Well?” Talon asked.

  “It is hers.”

  His instincts for revenge and protection rising to the

  surface, Talon bristled. A question weighed heavy on his

  lips but had to be asked. “Was she violated?”

  “No.” The Healer’s smile was a mixture of both sorrow

  and relief. “She bore a child.”

  To my critique partners:

  Alexis, Amy, Cathy, Gina, & Nikki.

  You made me a better writer.

  To Gary, Glennis, Patrick, & Heather—Love You!

  To my parents, who always believed in me.

  And to my editor, Linda,

  for giving a new author a chance.

  Thank you.

  Other Books by Sharron McClellan

  THE SEEKER

  (Coming in 2004)

  The Given

  ***

  Sharron McClellan

  One

  The immense boat plowed through the water, bringing

  the men who would change the Maidens from virgins to

  women.

  Aria knelt on the beach, waiting. Her head bent and

  her hands folded across her chest, she tried to focus on

  the upcoming ceremony—the physical ritual that would

  change her life as well as her body.

  Would it hurt? She trembled, and her thighs weakened,

  threatening to crumple her to the sand.

  “Focus.” Her whispered command was inaudible above

  the ocean’s waves. “Focus your mind before you are

  thought a fool.”

  With a firm mental shove, she set her fear aside and

  concentrated on her surroundings, looking for comfort or

  distraction. Diversion came in the form of a scarlet curl. A

  lock of hair dangled in front of her face, blown free from

  the pins that bound its companions in the traditional

  upswept style. Gently, she tossed her head, hoping to move

  it to a less obtrusive area.

  Another loosened to join it.

  The oars of the boat sounded like thunder as the men

  approached in the dimming light. Aria did not need to

  look up to know the two moons, the dark Grey Warrior

  and the Silver Maiden, rose in the sky behind her. Only

  once a season did the spheres rise side by side and make

  their way across the sky.

  It was why they gathered tonight, the Warriors and

  the Maidens.

  The wooden vessel rushed onto the sand, plowing to a

  stop and scattering everything in its path. Her breath

  caught, and the blood raced through her veins. Tonight

  she would cross the barrier from maid to woman, and in

  the morning, she would take her new position as an

  Apprentice to the Elders. She glanced up through her

  eyelashes just in time to see the Givers—Warrior priests

  who rarely left their Keep—walk down a wooden ramp

  and off the boat. None spoke as they lined up along the

  sands, their black cloaks billowing in the breeze as the

  cool light of the moons washed over them. They bowed

  their heads in homage to the Maidens. Their right hands

  rested on their sword hilts.

  She was not ready. The urge to flee rose on a wave,

  threatening to overwhelm her, but thoughts of the Elders

  kept her in check. They had given her a home,

  companionship, and a purpose. She could not disappoint

  them now. Steeling her resolve, she vowed to do what was

  necessary. She would hold fast to her promises. Lowering

  her gaze, she waited.

  Which Giver would take her on the journey? She had

  heard stories. Some women described it as an invasion—

  an act to be endured. Others said it was wondrous, and

  the physical union of two bodies was akin to Trancing.

  Which was true? Either or both?

  She would know soon enough.

  The choosing began as, one by one, each Maiden on

  the beach entered Trancer consciousness. Delving into the

  mind of her closest sister, she ascertained her needs and

  focused on her desires. What did her sister want in a lover?

  Which Giver was appropriate? Then, answers found, the

  Trancer let the Goddess guide her through the waves of

  Fate until she found the Warrior who met those needs. As

  their final charge, the Trancer called the name of the

  appropriate Giver for all to hear.

  It was a test of skill, ability, and of each Maiden’s

  deservedness to serve as an Apprentice. That was how it

  was done.

  How it had always been done.

  A bead of sweat slid from the base of Aria’s neck to

  the small of her back as her closest friend, Iliana, rose

  and entered Trancer consciousness. Her breath erratic and

  her skin pale, Aria tensed at her friend’s mental touch.

  Iliana was delving her mind, walking through her psyche,

  and finding her true desires. Desires unknown even to

  Aria.

  Instinctively, Aria fought to hide her thoughts, but

  found them pushed wide open as Iliana continued her

  search.

  Then, her mind grew silent. Iliana was gone and

  seeking the Warrior priest who would belong to Aria for

  the night. She called out the name of Aria’s Giver.

  Talon.

  Aria glanced up as his name sounded over the sands,

  but her chosen Warrior did not acknowledge the call.

  Which one was he? They all looked so much alike. Well-

  trained fighters, they all bore the muscles and scars that

  came from their favored profession. Most were tall, almost

  frighteningly so. Like the kota trees that grew alone in the

  dunes, they appeared invincible and enduring. As if

  nothing could fell them.

  The still-warm sands shifted as Iliana sank down,

  spent from the necessary mind trance.

  Aria closed her eyes. Time to prove her ability as a

  Trancer. Letting the outward sounds fade, she cleared her

  mind and forced her thoughts into the gray realm that lay

  between the physical world and the spiritual world of the

  Trancer. As if in a dream, she rose to her feet. Within

  moments, she passed through the colorless void and into

  the netherworld of Iliana’s mind. Thoughts, like currents,

  flowed over Aria. Blues and green. White, as smooth as

  down and brighter than the sun, captured her attention.

  It was not what she sought.

  She turned her search towards desire, and a deep,

  rich red emerged. Like a drop of scented oil, it hung heavy

  with unexpressed passion, naming all Iliana ever wanted

  in a lover. All she ever desired.

  Swiftly, Aria left Iliana’s thoughts and dove into the

  currents of life, flowing over them, through them, and

 
embracing their brilliant colors. She called to the Goddess,

  the deity who gave them all breath, to help her in her

  search. The answer came in the form of a claret flame—a

  twin to the red drop that was her friend’s desire. Ah,

  Iliana’s Giver. She touched his mind, but his inborn mental

  shielding allowed only a cursory glance. It was enough.

  She called his name.

  What seemed like moments later, she knelt back in

  the sand, as tired and mentally exhausted as her best

  friend. It was over. Were her words true? Did she even

  speak? As the memory faded, she saw Iliana smile. She

  must have said something. Aria relaxed. Tucking her robe

  under her knees, she forced her labored breathing to slow.

  The High Mother sang, ending the ceremony. The song

  spoke of faith, tradition, and the blessings of the Goddess.

  The Maidens rose, and the Givers walked towards them,

  ready to do their duty. Her legs still shaky, Aria stumbled

  over the hem of her robe. A hand—warm, callused and

  powerfully male—caught her elbow, steadying her. She

  turned her gaze upwards too see her rescuer. He was

  impossibly tall with hair as dark as katah‘ fur. The deep

  strands looked as silky as the predator’s coat. Her fingers

  itched to run through it and take pleasure in its texture

  alone—if she dared to loosen it from the ceremonial cloth

  ties that bound it behind him.

  He smiled, and she knew. It was Talon. Her Giver.

  “Do not look so surprised.” His voice, deep and

  masculine, flowed over her like warmed stroking oils.

  “I am not surprised,” Aria answered truthfully. “I am

  merely pleased you are agreeable to my eye.”

  Talon chuckled. “As you are to mine.” He clasped her

  hand in his. “Let us go to your chamber.”

  “So soon?” Her panic rose despite her intentions and

  Giver’s air of assurance and strength. “You are ready?”

  He chuckled again. “Not so soon. We have all night.”

  All night? What did he have planned? She attempted

  to hide her shock and ignorance by ducking her head and

  pushing her wayward curls back from her brow.

  He stopped her with a gentle hand, his fingers drawing

  the locks forward again. “Leave them. Please.”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed the palm,

  and then nipped a slender fingertip.

  A low growl emerged from her throat, surprising Aria.

  “See, you are more prepared than you thought. Come,

  show me your room.”

  She pulled her hand away. “A moment, please?”

  Talon gave a single nod and crossed his arms over his

  broad chest, waiting.

  Aria took a deep breath and lowered her gaze. So many

  emotions coursed through her—apprehension, fear,

  excitement and, yes, even desire. She dared a glance at

  Talon. Wide shouldered and proud as he stood waiting

  for her, his stance was fierce. His strength, pride, and

  beauty made her want to pet him, but she knew it would

  cost her.

  Had Iliana chosen true?

  She banished the thought. Of course. He was her Giver.

  Her lack of trust would be most displeasing to the mothers

  and a slap to Iliana.

  She met his eyes. They were dark, like looking in a

  mirror at night. “This way, Talon.” She liked the way his

  name sounded on her lips, and the corners of her mouth

  crept upward.

  Holding her head high, she walked towards the Tower

  with his hand in hers, prepared to make the Elders proud

  and to follow the ceremony that tradition dictated she

  must.

  ***

  He fills the room, Aria thought with awe as Talon

  entered her chamber and closed the door behind him. She

  walked to the fireplace, turning when the tip of his sword

  rapped against a vase of isi flowers, spinning them off a

  low wooden table. With a Warrior’s speed, he caught the

  vase before it hit the floor and placed it back in its original

  position. He shot her a look of sheepish apology and

  cautiously passed by a setting of bread and wine.

  His obvious care showed a thoughtfulness she did not

  expect from a man trained in the art of war. It pleased

  her.

  Still, she trembled as the unknown loomed before her.

  “Are you frightened?” Talon asked, coming up behind

  her as she watched the firelight dance on the stone walls.

  “A little. I have heard stories of what this night will be

  like.”

  His breath caressed the back of her neck, disturbing

  the escaped locks of hair. “All of them true, no doubt.”

  Her skin prickled at the intimacy of the gesture. She

  turned to face him. “True?”

  “Yes, for the person who lived the story, it is always

  true.” He tilted her chin up with a sun-darkened hand.

  “Your experience will be your own. As true for you, as

  theirs was for them.”

  “What will my story be?” Aria asked, curious as to his

  thoughts. Talon’s eyes were kind, and they crinkled when

  he smiled at her. But his imposing size made her wonder

  if he would be as gentle as she would wish.

  He reached around Aria and gathered her into his

  arms. “Whatever you want it to be,” he whispered in her

  ear. Letting his hands glide up her back, he buried his

  fingers in her hair.

  Aria sighed as he massaged her scalp and released

  her hair from the pins, letting it tumble past her shoulders

  and down to her waist. “It is brighter than fire.” He pressed

  the curls to his lips and grazed her skin with his palm.

  He released her hair, and Aria sighed again, but this

  time with disappointment. His touch was pleasurable.

  Intimate. Iliana had chosen well.

  He smiled at her reaction and walked over to pour two

  glasses of wine. Motioning her over to his side, he handed

  her a goblet.

  “Sip,” he commanded, his deep voice soft in its

  demands.

  Aria raised the glass to her lips and let the tart liquid

  flow over her tongue.

  “It will help you relax.” He took a drink from his chalice.

  “I am relaxed,” Aria lied, hoping the firelight hid the

  blush she knew crept up her neck.

  Talon chuckled, and she knew her lie had failed.

  She took another gulp of wine. It burned in her

  stomach. She broke a piece of bread from one of the loaves

  and offered it to him. Talon took the bread, but did not

  eat. Instead, he broke a smaller piece off and pressed it to

  Aria’s lips. “Here. Eat before the wine takes you away.”

  Shyly, Aria opened her mouth and let him feed her

  like a cub. She tasted the salt on his skin as she plucked

  a piece away with her teeth and tongue. Her lips tingled

  at the feel of his hand on her jaw, his fingertips on her

  mouth.

  His scent of musk and leather slid over her skin,

  overwhelming her. Her lids grew heavy. She wanted more

  of his touch. More of this moment. She wanted him. A

  surge of desire rolled from her stomach to the juncture

  between her thighs where it pulsed with an intriguing

  heaviness.

  “Talon.”

  He answered her whispered plea with the taste of more

  bread on her tongue. Bit by bit, he fed her until the bread

  disappeared. Then, he brushed the crumbs away from her

  lips with a callused thumb. She experienced a pang of

  disappointment that there was no more.

  “Now I know you will be present in all respects,” Talon

  murmured.

  Aria nodded as if she knew of what he spoke, but she

  did not. She knew nothing. She knew of the sensations

  but not how to assuage them. Did he feel the same?

  My Goddess, what do I do? She faced the fire, letting

  the warmth of the bright flames soothe her restless spirit.

  She wondered if Iliana felt so impatient, so unsure, so