He glanced back at her. “It is my wish, Mistress. And you would have branded me anyway, once we reached your home planet. This simply saves time.”
The Quinlow frowned. “I am willing to make the substitution but for the brand to be meaningful, I must know what to write.”
“Her name.” Xairn lifted his chin. “Write it in the language of her people, here, across my chest.”
“Then I must have knowledge of this language.” The Judge held out one burning hand to Lauren who was still standing beside the kneeling Xairn. Its creaking voice softened slightly. “Come, child, I can read your thoughts, but in order to make your mark properly I need a direct transference.”
Lauren looked at the flame-tipped fingers. “You want me to…to touch you?”
“Not the hand,” Xairn said sharply. “Brush your fingertips over its arm—that should be sufficient.”
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lauren reached out to do as he said. The Judge leaned forward obligingly, reminding her of a tree bending in the wind. Careful to avoid its burning hands, she let her fingertips brush lightly over the knotted, branch-like arm. Her whole arm went instantly numb and she gasped as she felt something pass between them—like a burst of electricity. Then it was over and she pulled back her hand and tried to massage some life back into her tingling fingers.
“That is well.” The Quinlow nodded at her. “I have what I need. Scourge, are you prepared? I warn you that my brand will not be light or painless. Many have died at my hands. I have no easy touch to give.”
Xairn’s face was like stone. “I understand, your Eminence. I am ready.” He looked briefly at Lauren. “Step back. I don’t want you hurt by the energy transfer, Mistress.”
Feeling numb, Lauren did as he asked. Me, he’s doing this for me. So I won’t be hurt, she thought as the Quinlow bent to press its burning fingertip to Xairn’s broad, bare chest. There was a hissing sound like burning flesh, but he didn’t even flinch as the moving finger began to write.
Lauren watched in mingled parts horror and fascination as her name slowly appeared in two-inch high letters across Xairn’s muscular chest. It was terrible to see because she knew he must be in agony—her name was being literally burned into his body, after all.
But though the whole scenario was surreal, the strangest thing was that the Quinlow was writing in her handwriting. The same loopy scrawl she used when signing letters and checks was what came out of the burning blue fingertip. It made her feel like she herself was doing the branding, as though she was disfiguring Xairn’s body like a vandal would mark a priceless piece of art. Her hands clenched into fists and tears sprang to her eyes again as she watched helplessly.
Xairn bore the agonizing operation in silence and when the Judge was finished, her entire first name was there, in raised black lines on his flesh. The pain must have been almost unbearable but he only nodded his head and said, “My thanks, your Eminence. I will wear my mistress’s name with pride.”
“Go and do not return.” The Quinlow frowned and stepped back. “Your welcome in O’ah has expired.”
“We’re going.” Rising stiffly, Xairn took Lauren by the hand and pulled her away, through the milling crowd of seed clones.
Lauren had to run to keep up with him but she didn’t care. All she knew was that they were finally getting out of this strange and dangerous place. But as relieved as she was, she was still horrified by the price Xairn had paid for their freedom. God, how could he do that for me—let my name be burned into his flesh and never even flinch? He must hate me now!
In the time he’d know her he had lost his father, his race, and his entire way of life. He’d even had to alter his entire appearance. And now this.
Was it any wonder he wanted to leave her on Earth and never come back?
Chapter Sixteen
The burning pain of the Quinlow’s touch still lingered on his chest, setting his nerve endings afire, but Xairn didn’t care. The agony he had endured to be branded with Lauren’s name was nothing compared to the fierce ache around his heart. Gods, to think that I almost lost her again, and for good this time! If the DNA alteration hadn’t changed her scent—no, he couldn’t allow himself to consider it. Not now.
They reached the ship and he pushed Lauren inside as quickly as possible, wanting to get her to safe territory. The Judge had made what he considered to be a fair ruling but it was based on a lie—he had not bonded Lauren to him. And I never will, he vowed to himself. There would be too much chance of losing control. But bonded or not, she was still his. Or rather, he was hers. Xairn knew that now and there was no going back from that knowledge, no matter how it pierced his heart.