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  Tragar started to protest but it only took a moment. After a second, Kate dropped Emily’s hand and nodded.

  “Okay, I understand now. Hey, guys,” she said, turning to her mate and the other pair he had introduced as Solar and Kaylee. “Seems we came kind of in the middle of things. Emily’s okay but we’re going to have to wait until the situation here gets resolved before anyone goes anywhere.”

  “What’s this? Who are these people and what do they want?” The High Priestess came striding up, her long robes swishing over the grass.

  “We’re just spectators, Priestess.” Rone bowed his head respectfully. “For now, anyway.”

  “We’re here for Emily—to back her up.” Kate gave Mother Chundra a very unfriendly look. Emily wondered if she’d seen what the High Priestess had been up to during their brief handshake. What kind of gift did she have, anyway?

  “Well, you cannot stay! No one outside the Temple may witness the Right of Conflict,” Mother Chundra declared.

  “A-hem.” Brother Hurx, who had followed her over, cleared his throat. “Actually, I am afraid you have gotten that particular law backwards, Mother Chundra. It clearly states that anyone can come to view a Right of Conflict, even if they are in no way affiliated with the Temple. In fact, having completely unrelated persons present was often encouraged in the past as it proved the veracity of the contest.”

  “Oh, very well.” The High Priestess was looking angrier and angrier. “But whatever you do, stay out of the way. This is a contest to the death and we cannot have any outside interference.” She stalked away.

  Emily felt her mouth go dry as she watched Mother Chundra leave.

  “To…to the death? Did she say to the death?”

  “Do not worry about it.” Tragar’s eyes gleamed. “I will dispatch the other candidate and we will be together before you know it.”

  “No, it’s not that!” Emily took his arm as Kate and Rone and the other couple went to sit on the benches. “I know you can slaughter him in no time flat—I just don’t want you to!”

  “What?” Tragar frowned. “Have you suddenly developed feelings for him? Do you wish me to step aside and let you mate him instead?”

  “Of course not!” Emily exclaimed. “Would I threaten to kill myself if they wouldn’t let me be with you if that was how I felt?”

  He shook his head. “Well, then why—?”

  “Because he’s a really nice guy,” Emily said earnestly. “And because Lit’aal over there is in love with him. Just look at the two of them!” She gestured to where Lit’aal was holding Daro’s arm much in the way she was holding Tragar’s. There was an anxious look on her face and she and Daro were talking softly, leaning in to each other to get closer.

  “Seven Hells,” Tragar muttered savagely. “I had hoped to be fighting against an opponent who deserved death. I thought that anyone who dared to take you away from me fell squarely into that category.”

  “He only agreed to take me on because Lit’aal told him how hard this whole process has been for me,” Emily said in a low voice. “All the other candidates think of me as damaged goods—you saw how they looked at me.”

  “They are fools,” Tragar growled. “The worst kind of fools if they could not see how beautiful and perfect you are, my Khalla.”

  “Thank you for that,” Emily said, smiling a little. “But that still doesn’t solve the problem—what are you going to do? How can you win the Conflict without killing Daro?”

  He shook his head. “In truth, I do not think that I can. If the High Priestess would clear you to bond with the male of your choosing, the Conflict might be put aside. But I doubt she will agree to that.”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Emily said grimly. “Come on.” She grabbed him by the arm and led the way to where the High Priestess and the other two members of the Holy Council were standing.

  As they walked up, Emily saw that Brother Hurx was holding open a long case lined with some soft black material like velvet. Inside it were two long metal instruments that looked like swords with four, long, sharp hooks poking out just above the hilt. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she watched the Kindred priest beckon to Daro who came up and took a weapon. He hefted it in his hand uncertainly. There was a look on his face that said he’d never seen anything like it before.

  Though all Kindred were warriors, Daro was also a medic—the Kindred version of a doctor, Emily reminded herself. And a pediatric one at that. So this fight was going to be a mild-mannered pediatrician versus a deadly assassin. It was going to be a massacre if the High Priestess didn’t back down. Emily just hoped she could make her see reason.

  “Excuse me, Mother Chundra?” she murmured, coming up to her. “Could we please have a word in private?”

  “What is it now?” the High Priestess snapped. “Have you thought of another way to profane the ceremony?”

  “No, that’s not what this is about. It’s about saving someone’s life,” Emily said evenly. “Will you please at least listen to what I have to say?”

  Mother Chudra gave her an angry look.

  “Fine. But be quick about it—the contest is about to begin.”

  Emily took a deep breath.

  “Mother Chundra, I know you’re not very happy with me right now but can’t we just forget about this whole fight and go our separate ways?”

  “Forget about the fight?” The other woman’s eyebrows raised high in skeptical surprise. “Do you not recall, Khalla-to-be, that it was your inferior male who demanded it in the first place by invoking the Right of Conflict rule.”

  “Yes, but we don’t have to do it—you can end it with a word,” Emily said pleadingly. “This fight—this conflict—is going to be a massacre! Just look at them.” She pointed at Daro who was still eyeing his blade uncertainly and Tragar who was swinging his in deadly, efficient arcs. Doubtless he was just getting warmed up.

  “Yes, I see the contestants. What of it?” Mother Chundra snapped.

  “What of it is Tragar is going to kill Daro in the first five minutes. He’s a trained assassin with hundreds of kills under his belt and Daro is a pediatrician. They’re not evenly matched at all!”

  The High Priestess sniffed. “That is not my problem.”

  “But…don’t you care that Daro will die?” Emily demanded. “You handpicked him to come here as a candidate and he gave up his whole life to answer your call.”

  “Which is only as it should be.” Mother Chundra lifted her chin and looked down her nose at Emily. “I am the Head of the Holy Council. My word is law.”

  “Right,” Emily muttered. God, she couldn’t believe the power trip this woman was on! Still, she tried to keep her anger in check. “But Daro doesn’t deserve to die—he’s a really nice, upstanding, honorable guy.”

  “Not ‘nice’ enough, apparently, for you to want him as your chosen mate,” the High Priestess said sarcastically.

  “Well, no. He’s not Tragar. I told you when I came here that we were already together. I can’t—”

  “The solution to this problem is simple,” the High Priestess snapped, cutting her off. “Renounce your intention to bond with that filthy assassin and return to the Sacred Grove to continue your bonding ceremony with Daro.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” Emily said. “Tragar and I are meant to be together. He found me on my home planet light years from here where there has never been a single Khalla before. He saved me. Please, just try to understand.”

  “No, you understand me.” Mother Chundra stabbed a long, boney finger in Emily’s face. “Either accept Daro as your chosen mate or watch him get slaughtered before your eyes. Those are your only choices.”

  Emily felt her eyes starting to burn as the other came forward.

  “Don’t you care at all that an innocent life will be lost just because you can’t have your way? Are you really that heartless?” she demanded, the voice of the other coming from her lips. Emily found she didn’t mind though—they were