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for it, but I clearly have cause to disable it.” Kendall set the broken pieces on the floor near the edge of the tent, out of the way. “Are you sure you don’t mind me taking the bed?”
    “I insist upon it.”
    She considered him for a moment before moving toward the bed. She kicked off her shoes and pulled back the fur coverlet to crawl onto the high mattress. Stretching out on her side, she studied him. “No one will come in?”
    “I will make sure of it,” he told her, though he knew no one would come unless summoned. She sighed at his reassurance, and he hid his small smile of pleasure to know she trusted his word without question. It was a very good sign as to their future together.
    “Thank you, Alek.” She rolled over, putting her back toward him.
    Alek took the three torches from the walls and dipped them into the bath water, putting out the fires. The tent became dark and quiet. There was soft glow from the outside bonfires shining through the wall. It bathed the slope of her form in the gentlest of orange lights. In the years to come, he was sure he would always remember the way she looked in this moment.
    My bride.
    Alek helped himself to wine while he listened to her breathing. He knew the moment she started to slip into a deep sleep. Setting the goblet down, the wine in it unfinished, he lightly touched the glowing crystal. This was not how he’d imagined his marriage ceremony. Most men believed there would be moments of discovery, touching and kissing, whispering and playing, and a bit of pleasurable-torture as their new brides did their own exploring. Still, he would not complain. If sleep was what his bride desired, then sleep was what she would have. With the blood pumping in his veins, granting her request was not as easy as it first appeared. He wanted to touch her and feel her and taste her.
    The bed was large enough to hold them both and he crawled next to her and lay on top of the fur coverlet. He made no move to hold her. For now he would be content that she was in his tent, that his crystal glowed and that finally the gods had seen fit to send him a wife.
     
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    Kendall knew she was not safe in her quarters the moment her mind woke from her dreams. Her bed did not feel like this one. Her room was not so warm. In those first gradual seconds, she expected to be jarred by her captors into the harsh reality of her new life. Where were they keeping her now? Did it even matter?
    She opened her eyes to her dark surroundings and felt momentary confusion at the peacefulness of them. No tight space or metal walls closed her in. No stasis chamber. No ship’s prison hold. The soft orange glow along the wall was the only light. It flickered, coming from a fire outside of the canvas enclosure. Kendall was amazed she’d slept. Normally the fear of being helplessly stuck back into stasis kept her mind alert. Her eyes adjusted and she was able to discern the surrounding shadows—a table, the platter of chocolate, a pitcher. She slid her hand to her mouth. A strange material was clutched in her fingers. As it neared her nose she detected a familiar smell. Alek. His mask. The material tangled in her fingers.
    Kendall pushed up on the bed and tried to make out shapes on the floor. Then, looking behind her, she found what she was searching for. Alek was on the bed next to her. He rested on top of the coverlet. Since she was beneath it, the material kept them from touching. She detected the outline of his form. Muscles formed ridges in the flesh. His arm lifted above his head, framing his face and drawing her attention to his parted lips and strong nose. She stared, mesmerized by the look of him.
    Perhaps it was the sleepy haze she was under, or the quiet surrealism of the tent, or even the relief of no longer being under the thumb of her captors. She reached to him and let her finger move down the slope of his nose. Kendall shivered, as if that touch proved this was real and she was