"Never mind that. Dalden wants Transfer now, and I mean now. I warned you he'd go berserk when he saw all that blood."

"For stars' sake, you know how to stall someone better than anyone else. Let her at least change clothes first," Tedra said, then suggested, "Transfer him to Challen. He can calm him down some, if you can't."

Which made Brittany start to panic. If Dalden's mother was this worried that she was in big trouble, she was likely in some seriously big trouble.

« ^ »

CHANGING CLOTHES WASN'T ENOUGH. BRITTANY WAS still smeared with dried blood, even though there were no wounds left to account for it. She had just enough time to drop into the sunken bath, scrub thoroughly, then drain the water-leaving a pink pool wasn't a good idea-and get into a fresh blue chauri. Not enough time to dry her hair completely, but that was a minor point. She wasn't trying to hide the fact that she'd been hurt, which Dalden already knew, just the visible reminder of how bad the injuries had been.

Tedra left Martha's link behind and told her to use her discretion if someone needed Transferring out of there until emotions settled down. At that point, Brittany had no idea who that someone might be, since her own emotions were getting out of hand as well.

By the time Dalden finally walked into their room she had worked herself into a fine state of nervousness. And what kept repeating in her mind was he was for real, really for real. He wasn't someone playing at being a barbarian, he was a barbarian, and how the hell did you deal with an archaic mentality that, instead of offering comfort over an injury, was going to add punishment to it as well?

He didn't look angry. But she knew him well enough by now to know that he wouldn't look it. Wrapped in his warrior's calm, you had to search for more subtle signs than the obvious, and they were there: a certain stiffness, compressed lips-no warmth in his golden eyes.

Her problem, and the reason she couldn't shake the dread building in her, was that she didn't know what to expect from him at this point. He'd said he would never cause her physical pain and she believed that, but what about mental? just what was a barbarian's idea of punishment if it wasn't whips and chains? Dumped in some dark, dank hole for a week? A month? Solitary confinement? Her only defense was anger, and she wrapped herself securely in it.

"Remove your clothes."

She blinked, stiffened, narrowed her eyes at him. "No way."

"Remove them," he repeated as he started to cross the room to her. "I need to see that you are whole."

That should have reassured her. He just wanted to see for himself that she was okay. She would have wanted the same visual proof if he'd been the one injured. But this wasn't a normal situation.

"Forget it," she said and started backing away from him. "I'm not putting myself in a vulnerable position like that when you've got punishment on the brain. Do I look like I'm flipping out of my mind?"

She'd just given him a chance to deny it. He didn't take it. The anger wrapped more firmly around her.

"You can stop right there," she told him. "I'm fine, good as new. You will take my word for it. And I've already learned the lesson you think needs reinforcing, so there's no need for reinforcing it. I'll obey all future orders."

"Then obey this one. Remove your clothes!"

That was about as close as Dalden had ever come to actual shouting. Incredibly, it made her want to obey him, which was insane!

She shook her head at him, but dread was swiftly replacing her anger. She continued to back away. "That order has nothing to do with safety, just the opposite. And I'm warning you up front, I won't accept punishment from you. I absolutely refuse to accept it. So don't even think of-"

She'd run out of room for escaping, had come up against the wall behind her. Not that it mattered when his longer legs had already brought him within inches of her. And it didn't even take him two seconds to pull her away from the wall and peel that stupid chauri to the floor. He then turned her around, once, twice, held her arms out to the sides, and felt her limbs in a clinical manner.

Brittany bristled under the close examination, was too indignant to be embarrassed over it. He should have taken her word for it.

She slammed her palms against his chest. A normal man would have at least been shoved back a little by it, since she put every bit of strength she had into it. Dalden wasn't budged. Her hands now hurt.

"Satisfied?" she growled. "I told you I was fine! Why couldn't you just believe me?"

He dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms around her. His head rested between her breasts. She was completely confounded by this, too surprised to think for a moment.

"I am sorry for my compulsion to see for myself," he told her with a great deal of feeling. "I am sorry for the pain you suffered," he added with even more feeling. "I am sorry I was not there to prevent it."

"Dalden, stop," she said, wrapping her arms around his head.

He didn't. "I am sorry you could not trust me enough to know that I would not give you an order without there being a good reason.

"Dalden, please, you're killing me with guilt here," she told him. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Look, if you must know, when I heard that animal outside the tent, I was hoping it was a normal animal. Our visit to the clearing was unplanned, and I wanted ammunition to discredit the Sha-Ka'an fantasy. And I was only going to satisfy my curiosity with a quick peek. But it saw me, and ended up proving me wrong), instead."

His grip tightened on her. "I am sorry you had to nearly die before you could accept the truth."

She smiled. He didn't see it. "You and me both."

"And I am sorry that I must now make sure that you never let your curiosity interfere with an order given for your protection again.

She had begun to relax somewhat. Now all her muscles tensed again. He rose to his feet and picked her up to cradle in his arms.

"No!" she cried.

But he was set on his own path, was going to ignore anything she had to say. He didn't want to punish her, he had to, for her own "good." She knew that was where he was coming from, that he really did see this as being for her ultimate benefit, so nothing she said or did was going to stop it from happening.

She should just buck up and take it like a man. How bad could it be, anyway, if it wasn't going to cause her physical pain? But it was the principle of thing, damnit. She was too old to have lessons taught by way of punishment, as if she were a child.

It wasn't a law she broke, for crying out loud. That she could abide-break it and pay the fine or do the time. But a rule for her own safety should be at her discretion to decide whether to follow it or not. And the one she broke shouldn't even fall into that category. All he'd had to do was tell her that there were maneating beasts in that woods and she would have damn well stayed in the tent.

He carried her to his bed, laid her on it, Joined her there, and simply held her to him. He had to force it, she wasn't exactly laying still-until she realized that was all he was doing. He was trying to calm her first. He couldn't have missed her rigid stiffness. But there was no way she could get calm under the circumstances.

He must have finally realized that, because he began to kiss her. New alarm bells went off. She didn't think this was to calm her. How could it when his kissing had just the opposite effect? No, she was afraid he was trying to make amends beforehand, to cushion the blow for the punishment that was coming-as if anything could.