Free Diadem from the Stars by Jo Clayton

weight of his body and a forearm pressed across her throat so that the trickle of blood from the bite slid down her neck. Anger stiffened his face into a harsh mask.
    Suddenly she was inside. “No, Vajd,” she whispered. “Let me go. Please let me go.” She closed her eyes and let her body go limp. After a minute she felt his taut muscles relax. The pressure of his arm went away and she felt his hand brushing gently across her face, pushing her hair back, touching her eyes, her lips. “You’re wrong, Leyta.” His voice was tender and caressing. “No. I was a child dazzled. That’s all.”
    Once again she felt his fingertips walking spider tracks across her face, trailing warmth behind. “Not Shareem. You. Always.” His hands moved over her and her body’s urgency drove everything else way out to the edges of her awareness.
    They lay locked together for a long time. Aab dipped below the edge of the window.
    The sudden darkening of the loft woke Aleytys from her dreamy languor. She turned her head to look at Vajd. His face was full of peace and he seemed years younger as he lay beside her, the dim light masking the laugh wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth. His hair was full of straw with wispy curls plastered down over a forehead wet with sweat. Tenderness was a warm river inside her. “I wish …” she murmured. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” She looked at the dark window with its sprinkling of stars. Almost moonset, she thought. I suppose I should get back. As she moved restlessly, the straw crackled and squeaked under her. Vajd’s eyes opened. He sighed and stretched. “Leyta?”
    â€œMmm.”
    He looked at the window, then sat up hurriedly. “Moon-set!”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œYou have to get back. If Qumri found you again …”
    â€œLet her.”
    â€œDon’t underestimate that hate, my dear. It’s had as long as you to grow. She’ll get you flayed.”
    She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, the pleasant glow that had illumined her body deadening to ash. “Ai-Jahann. There’s just no way. I’ve got to get out of this valley.”
    â€œI know. Better than you, Leyta. I know the Atash nau-ta-vallud.” He slid down to the corner and dug in the straw. “Here. This is your mother’s book. I brought it for you.”
    She took the battered volume and examined it curiously. “You think she planned for this to happen?”
    He spread out his hands and shook his head. “I never knew what was in her head.”
    She tucked the book inside her sleeve so that it rested in the pouch that formed part of the sleeve hem. Tilting her head, she looked him over and chuckled. “You look like a worn-out satyr, my love, with that straw in your hair. Here, let me.…” She pulled the hay out of his tumbled curls, delighting once again in the feel of his soft springy hair.
    He grinned at her. “Should see yourself, muklis.”
    Below, a horse snorted and moved restlessly in his stall.
    â€œDawn’s coming,” Aleytys said slowly. With a sigh, she teetered onto her feet. “We’d better go.”
    â€œLeyta. Ay-mi. Leyta!” Twanit’s agitated voice bounced around in the fog numbing her brain. As small strong hands shook her violently, she groaned and swatted feebly.
    â€œWake up, Leyta. Wake up.”
    â€œGo ’way,” Aleytys mumbled. As waves of tiredness sloshed over her head she pulled the quilts tight around her body and tried to ignore the sharp little voice sawing at her ears.
    â€œOh, Leyta!” Twanit snatched the quilts off and buried her hands in Aleytys’s tangled mop of hair. She gave a wretched little gasp and tugged hard.
    As pain exploded in her head, Aleytys flopped up and swung wildly at her tormenter. Twanit let go and backed away, her face pale and resolute. “Leyta. Get dressed.