Chapter Seven summary:  Janet finishes her exam and while she would like to take them to the SGC and make
sure they rested and ate regularly, she realizes that isn't going to happen.  They aren't about to give up their
mates and the night ahead of them.  Since Janet feels that making love to their mates will help them as much as
anything, she says nothing.  Their night is long and more ways than one.  Sam has a Furling trait
make an unannounced appearance and the consequences will be far-reaching.

Pher’ak’tel - The Essence given off by the Female during the Furling Mating Ritual.  Only used for Conception.
Lun’ak’mat -  Furling Mating Cycle
Matak’lun’ek - A Potion used to Control the Heat Cycle in young Furling Females, until they learn to control them
for themselves.
Amat Wyn - My Love
Coeurawyn - My Heart
Igisadonis Animawyn - Beloved of my Soul: A Term of Endearment, also the Formal Statement of the Soulmate
Aima Coeurawyn - Blood of My Heart: A Term of Endearment, also the Formal Statement of the Soulmate.  While
the word Coeurawyn can be used separately, only the Soulmate should be called ‘Aima Coeurawyn.’
Igisadonis – Beloved.   
Igisadonis Wyn -
My Beloved
Sectares - Miles

Warning – NC-17…graphic sexual content

“Italics” – Symbiote-Host or Telepathic Communications

Janet finished with the last of the tests that she could run from here.  She would much
rather have had them back at the SGC, to be able to do a full workup on them, just to be
sure, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen.  Merdwin assured her that they were all
completely well, just tired, and run-down.  Well, she would agree with that.  Thin and
obviously exhausted, they needed rest and good food.  

She opened her mouth to tell them her directions, met first Sam’s, and then Kataya’s,
eyes, and shut it again.  She could talk until she was blue in the face.  There was nothing
on this world, or any other for that matter, that was going to keep them out of their mates’
arms tonight, or in the foreseeable future.  She would be wasting her breath, and the
looks on their faces said that they knew what she wanted to say.  Nothing short of a full-
scale Goa’uld attack would keep them from their mates’ beds, and talking to the men
would simply upset these women.  

Something told her that they had all received the short version of the ordeal through
which the two of them had passed.  She and Merdwin had arrived as they began to
explain what happened and had remained in the background until they finished their
stories.  From what little Merdwin had said, along with what she had heard, she knew
they weren’t telling them everything.  

Therefore, she would rather have them spend time awake, making love to their mates,
than being stressed because the men were too worried about them to touch them.  The
feel of the love of their mates would probably be a tonic, anyway; at least, she could soothe
her conscience by telling herself that, and knowing that, in one way, it was true.  They did
need to feel that love, so she would not try to get them to do more than get extra rest.  
During the day, if need be.  

She would really like to take them back to the infirmary, put them to bed, and have them
sleep for a few weeks.  Well, that wasn’t going to happen, either, so she wouldn’t expend
her energy on advising something that was a pipe dream.  Instead, she said quietly, “Both
of you are very run down physically, you know that.  I’m sure your own bodies are telling
you that.  Listen to it, please, and if it tells you that it wants a nap, give it one.  If it is
hungry, feed it, okay?  You know that I’d like to take you back with me, and make you
sleep and eat, but I think that what you have here will be better medicine than anything
that I could give you, so I won’t say anymore.”  

As they started to smile at her, she held up a hand and shaking her head, said, “Except
for one thing,” she smiled then, and said, “I’m so glad to have you guys back with us.  It’s
been so awful since you’ve been gone.  God, I’ve missed you both, so much.”

“We’re glad to be back, Janet.  We’ve missed you, too.  Every day.  We thought about all of
you, all the time; it’s part of what kept us fighting and allowed us to survive.  And, we’ll
take care of ourselves.  Really.  Merdwin is just worried because of everything that
happened, but he knows that we’re aware that we have to regain our strength as quickly
as possible.  What’s happening here is important.  And we want to be part of it, so we’ll
take care of ourselves,” Sam promised, as she hugged Janet and they both cried softly,
letting the tears begin to wash the pain of the last six months away.

After hugging her briefly and reassuring her that she was indeed fine, Kataya stepped
quietly to one side and went to talk to Merdwin, knowing that he was close by.  She found
him in the hall, leaning negligently against the wall.  By way of a greeting, she said, “Tell
Coeurawyn, are you going to leave the silver wings in your hair?  They are very
distinguished.  Almost, they lend you an air of respectability.”

“You wound me, Kataya.  The most dangerous man in the thirteen galaxies, and you
insult me by calling me

“We are a pair, are we not,
Amat Wyn?  Neither of us have a respectable bone in our
bodies, yet our mates could be poster children for the pure of heart.”

Merdwin smiled softly as he reached out and gently pushed her hair back and caressed
her cheek.  “You are pure of heart, Kataya, as you have always been.  You proved it today,
if there was any doubt.  You know as well as I, that Morgasha could not get within ten
sectares of a unicorn, and yet you still ride them like the wind.  As do I.  Perhaps we are
not respectable, but in our hearts, where it matters, we are true.  Stop worrying.  What
happened was not your fault.  If it was anyone’s, it was mine.  I should have guessed that
she would attempt to infect you, and worked a shield for you and Samantha.”

Kataya shook her head.  “No.  I should have known.  I knew her, too, Merdwin, and I knew
what she was capable of doing.  I am grateful that I was able to stop her from infecting
Samantha, for she had no resistance to that type of poison.  I, at least, had my training in
the temple, and as an enchantress.”

“I know.  And I, too, am very grateful.”  Looking down at this woman, who had been both
friend and lover over the long millennia, he felt that love and tenderness he always did for
her, and he saw beyond the front she was projecting.  “You are tired,
Amat Wyn.  Why do
you not go on to bed?  Call Daniel to you by the siren’s song, for once.  It will hurt neither
of you and he will not mind.”  

“That is the best idea you have had in a very long time, Merdwin.  I believe I will.  And I
might suggest that you take Janet and get some, um, rest yourself.”

As she turned and walked toward Daniel’s room, she heard him laugh softly.  All of them
that were once again reunited with mates would have a wonderful night tonight.  It would
be a night to remember and cherish.  She smiled to herself; she had not used the siren’s
song for millennia.  But, perhaps Merdwin was correct, and tonight was a justifiable use of
it.  After all, it was not as if she was calling some unsuspecting young man to his doom.  
She would only be calling Daniel to a delightful evening, and she would release him at

“Daniel?  Hey, what’s with you?  The look on your face is, well, weird,” Jack said, as he
looked at the bemused look on his friend’s face.

Daniel looked at Jack, and it was as if his entire concentration turned inward.  Slowly
coming out of his almost trance-like state, he smiled at his friends and said, “I, um, I have
to go.  Kataya is calling me.”

“Daniel?  You mean she’s talking to you through the link?”  Jack asked, frowning.  The
way Daniel had phrased his answer seemed unusual.

“No, no, she’s not
talking to me at all.  She is calling me, using the siren’s song.  It’s an
ancient enchantment, and it’s been banned for years in general usage, but between
mated souls, it’s still occasionally used.  I think that is what I’m remembering, anyway.  It’
s the feelings that I’m getting from her, and since she is using that method to let me know
that she is finished with her check-up, I think I’ll go and join her.  I’ll say goodnight.”

Jacob laughed at the look that repeatedly tried to steal over Daniel’s features.  It was
obvious he was having trouble concentrating on talking to them.  “Go ahead, Daniel.  God
knows you guys deserve this night with your mates.  Have a wonderful evening, but try to
remember that they’ve been through a lot, too.”

“Yes, of course,” Daniel murmured, as he headed for the stairs.  He didn’t notice the
chuckles coming from behind him.  He was caught up in a song and need as old as time.  
And he was answering it.  Without even thinking about it, he found himself sending back
the answer.

On the wings of time, love, I will come to thee,
On the winds of life, love, soon there you will be.
Through the mists, love, I will come to see,
Through joining, love, You will come to me.
To bind my heart using silken bands,
To bind my body using cords of love.
My Heart I place, within your hands,
My soul, my passion, within, above.
Become my soul, my blood, my life, unto the day we die,
I will lie with you forever, within the starry sky.
I will come with thee,
I will stay with thee,
I will join with thee,
For now, forever,
Into eternity  

Opening the door to their room, his breath almost stopped.  As she had been from the first
time he had ever seen her as a woman, she was beautiful to him.  She stood with her back
to the open balcony door, the moonlight slanting through and turning her gown to
transparent nothingness.  She had stopped the song as soon as he answered her.  As she
stood with a slight smile curving her lips, he leaned back against the door and crossed his
arms over his chest, an answering smile on his.  

She was the siren and he was her captive, no longer, now that it had ended.  She had
called him, but released him, so that from this moment on, only his own free will would
guide him.  It was an enticement, nothing more.  One that he was more than happy to
have ensnaring him.

He watched her through lowered lids as she leaned negligently against the doorframe.  
Her hair had grown out while she was gone.  Its growth had obviously been accelerated
during the long months they had been apart, for it waved softly down her back.  She
would cut it soon, for as a warrior, long hair would be very much in her way, but for this
short time, she would leave it.  The curtain of gold and silver would be a plaything to her
for now.  She would use it to delight and torment him, he knew.  And, he would enjoy
each and every minute of it.  The sooner they began, the sooner he would feel this woman’
s delicious, sensuous body against his once again.  A feeling that he would revel in, for he
had awakened aching for her often, over the past long, cold, months.  

“Come to me,” he ordered firmly, not at all surprised when she cast him an amused look
before smiling slightly, and turning to walk out onto the balcony, away from him.  

“Make me,” her actions said, quite clearly.

“Now, Kataya,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, “For if I do not have you
soon, I shall perish in my need.”  He would follow the script that the song had woven, but
only for so long.  “Come to me, Aima Coeurawyn, and make me whole,” he pleaded and yet
commanded, in one breath, and it was an arrow to her soul.

In the face of his need, she could not deny him; she had no wish to deny him or herself.  
Turning, she entered the room, walked to him, and asked of him,  “What is it that you
Igisadonis Animawyn?  How may I serve thee and make thee whole?”

“You will join your body with mine and we will become one, as your song promised me,
and as I sent my answer winging back to you.”

“I will,” she agreed.

“I await your touch,” he answered.  “You promised me silken cords of love to bind me,
heart, body, and soul.”

“You shall have it,” she responded, as she reached out and slowly began to unbutton his
shirt.  She smiled softly, and he could tell that she was remembering something.

“What are you thinking,
Coeurawyn?”  He asked softly.

“I was remembering our first loving after you remembered who I was the last time, what
we were to each other.  I was thinking how different this loving will be, and yet how much
the same.  It is a good memory, my heart.  It will remain with me always, and I believe it
will always make me smile.  As your reaction the next day to the marks you left upon my
body will also make me smile.”  

Daniel moaned softly, remembering that night.  He had been almost savage in his need,
and she had met that need with a fire of her own.  It had consumed them then, just as it
would this night.  Feeling the last of the buttons give way, he felt her caress as she slowly
pushed his shirt aside and allowed it to fall to the floor.  Her fingers made their way into
the waistband of his pants and traced their way to the fastening.  Once it was undone, she
slowly unzipped them, and then abandoned them to bring her hands once more to his
chest.  Leaning forward to feather kisses across the sculpted muscles, she left a trail of fire
upon his skin.  Moaning again softly, he reached for her and pulled her body into his, so
that he might feel her pressed along the length of him.

The scent of roses and musk surrounded him.  It was almost time.  Time to bind her to
him once again, in the manner of a man and a woman.  Time to make of her the woman,
his mate, for she belonged to him now, as well as forever.  

“Take that which you want, need,
Igisadonis, for I am the mate, the other half.  Our
joining will indeed make us whole.  One whole from two halves, as it has always been and
will always be.”  

“I want to see you, Kataya.  I need to see your body free, naked before me.  I want to see
you, in all your many forms, for you are many women, and I want to see, touch, hear, and
taste them all.  I wish to know you in all your many guises, from the Amazon to the frail
maiden.  From the Angel to the Devil.  Show me each and every side of you, my love, and
bring forth from me all that I am to you.”  

His voice husky with desire, he continued, “Bring us together in that place where we
become naked and open with one another, unable and unwilling to hide strengths or
weaknesses, perfection or flaws.  Take me to the center of your being, and join me there
for a taste of death, as only lovers can know it.  Guide me; be guided by me.  Take me; be
taken by me, Love me; be loved by me.
 Anima Coeurawyn; my heart, my life, my soul.”  

Daniel watched, as the smile that all women of all times have been born knowing how to
give, touched her lips and spoke of mysteries untold.  It enticed, entranced, and called.  It
whispered of silken sheets, and scented skin, breezes that caressed, and moonlight that
kissed the eyes.  It was the ending of the siren song, and men had followed its call for
millennia.  Gladly, rapturously, bewitched, and enthralled.  

With the smile still touching her lips, she reached for his hands and brought them to the
neckline of her gown.  “It is an old gown, beloved, brought for this purpose and none
other.  Make me as you wish me to be for you.  Become that which you wish to be for me.  
We own the night and all its wonders.  Begin them now,
Coeurawyn.  Bring us to the
darkness and the light that lies within us.  Come,
Beloved.  Come,” she whispered, her
voice sultry and dark, bringing to mind images of the two of them wrapped together in one
another’s arms.  

Daniel’s hands gripped the edges of her gown convulsively, as she watched him in the
moonlight, that slight enticing smile never faltering.  Releasing the gown, he moved his
hands to the bows on her shoulders.  He could rip it to shreds in seconds, so flimsy was it,
but the bows on her shoulders would serve the same purpose without the destruction.  He
would start as he meant to go on.  The bows opened and the gown pooled at her feet.  
Standing proudly naked before him, she waited only a moment, to read his need, before
stepping forward to kneel in front of him.  

As she knelt before him, her face in shadow, she reached out and feathered her fingertips
across the skin just above his jeans where they rode low on his hips.  Feeling him shiver,
she leaned forward to press her lips just below the indentation on his flat abdomen, where
the zipper hung open.  Leaning down, she removed first his shoes and socks, before
reaching up and tugging on the jeans that he had put on after they bathed earlier.  

As they fell to the floor, he stepped forward of his own volition and kicked them aside.  
Now as naked as she, he watched her to see what her next move would be…if any.  

Would she continue, or would she entice him into a need so great he would become
frustrated and reach for her to bring them together.  He couldn’t read her face in the
shadows, but she could see his as the moonlight caught the planes of his face, reminding
her of a sculpture, a carving of great beauty; he looked as if he could have posed for the
bust of Apollo.

She ran her hands up his legs, from calf to thigh, feeling the muscles bunch as she
touched them lightly, until her hands came to rest behind him, to cup him and bring him
toward her waiting lips.  Hearing the moan that escaped his throat, she opened and took
him in, loving him thoroughly, her lips hot, moist, and licking flames along his shaft until
he thought his legs would buckle.  

Locking his knees to keep that from happening, he reached forward and buried his hands
in the long gold and silver tresses that flowed down her back.  He was on fire as only she
could cause him to be.  If she did not stop soon, he would lose what little control he had.  

Moaning again, he pulled her heated mouth from him, gasping, “Kataya, dear god, no
more.  I have no control left.  Please.  I need you.  I need you, my love,” he groaned as he
drew her to her feet and leaned forward to kiss her.  He could taste himself as his tongue
probed her mouth, and the pure erotic images that brought had his mind spinning out of
control.  She broke the kiss, the images coalesced into her, and the heat of her body
pressed to his.

He heard the sultry whispers of silk moving through his mind and leading him forward,
“Then come to me,
Amat Wyn, and you shall have me,” the rich, dusky, tone of her voice
washed over him as he followed her to the bed.  Climbing the steps and lying down, she
gently urged him forward to follow her down.  

Suddenly that old feeling stole over him as he looked down into the mysterious eyes
watching him, enticing him, and he realized, daring him.  Daring him to love her in every
way of which he could think.  Daring him to match her animal lusts, as well as her gentle
loving.  Daring him to take her and himself as far and as deeply into the mystery of their
mating and their love as he could, to take her any and every way he could, until they were
both so sated that they could no longer move.  As she would him.  

Oh, yes, as she would him.  He knew the exact moment that she knew he had read her
challenge and answered it, for she smiled that smile, but this time there was a tinge of the
predator in it.  Her hands reached out and her fingers kneaded his chest gently, but he
could feel the slight prick of claws.  His eyes widened and she laughed, enjoying teasing
him before withdrawing them from his skin.  

He placed his hand on her throat and watched it as he drew it slowly down her beautiful
body, stopping at her breast to knead and rub until the nipple stood at attention.  Leaning
down to suckle and nuzzle, laving and nipping, he loved them with his lips and tongue,
his breath moist and hot on them, before moving on.  His fingers feathered around her
waist and across her stomach, moving ever so slowly toward the apex of her thighs.  

He watched her face as he skipped that area, went to the knee opposite him, and lifting it,
pushed it outward, opening her up slightly.  He continued to watch her as he found her
other knee and drew that leg toward him, opening her even more.  Then, his fingers were
fluttering over her thighs, teasing her, touching her lightly and then retreating, only to
once again explore upwards toward the center waiting for him.  

When they finally found it, the heat and moisture there drew him in.  As his fingers
worked their magic on her, his thumb caressing the nub that would bring her to climax,
he kissed her deeply, still tasting himself on her tongue.  He wanted to taste her, all of
her, to know her in every way that he could.  How many times, he wondered, had they
played this scene, and yet never did they tire of one another.  Each time that they were
together only made them more eager for the next time and the time after that.

Bending over her, he breathed in her scent, a scent that drove him to pleasure her to the
point of her climax.  He had to taste her, to see if she tasted as sweet as her scent said she
would.  He knew she would, of course; this was not the first time that he had given his
tongue the exquisite pleasure of her taste.  She moaned as he found the exact spot and
rhythm that he had been searching for.  Her scent, the silken feel of her thighs against his
shoulders, the heaviness of her breasts in his hands, all of it coalesced into a burning
need for him to pleasure her.  Gods, she tasted so good, and the sound of her moaning his
name drove him to labor over her until she spilled onto his tongue.  She didn’t stop him
from taking her there, in that way, but enjoyed it, enjoyed the raptness of his expression
as he watched her find her release.

She smiled at him, quiet, but not yet sated.  She waited, knowing that it would not be long
before he began to need her to take him to the place that she had just visited.  Reaching
for him, she brought him up her body until he was straddling her chest, just below her
breasts, for the moment.  She watched him as she raked him lightly, not enough to hurt,
but enough to cause him to shudder at the way she touched him.  

Soon she had moved him to where she could reach him with first her tongue and then her
mouth.  He knew that it would not last long.  He wanted more than this, but he would
allow it for now.  After all, it felt wonderful, but more than that, it was what it was a
prelude to that interested him.  As his hips began to move, he grasped her wrists, holding
them as he pumped his hips and felt his shaft riding over her lips, past the slight scraping
of her teeth, and into the warmth and wetness of her mouth.  

As she sucked him harder, he began to moan and he knew that he had to stop, or there
would be no stopping at all.  Releasing her wrists and pulling away from the heated
moisture of her mouth, he groaned as he heard her smoky laugh, and it shivered down
his spine, tingling, arousing him even more, as he moved slightly away, breathing
raggedly.  Coming up beside him where he sat, she reached for his manhood, only to have
him stop her hands before they could touch the satiny hardness.

“No more, Kataya, or I will have no control at all.  I can’t take anymore without losing it,”
Daniel said, harshness from his suppressed desires in his voice.  As she moved to lie
down, she pulled him to lie beside her.  

“Then I will not go there and so unman you,
Coeurawyn, although it would only be
unmanning in your eyes,” she replied softly.  Starting with his lips, she loved them,
nibbled, nipped, and sucked them gently, learning them thoroughly.  Tasting the taste
that was Daniel mixed with her own flavor, as she lingered there and licked them softly,
she enjoyed the taste that was
them, before moving on to the chiseled planes of his
cheeks, the hollows of his eyes, the hard line of his jaw, to the next stop on her exploration
of his sculpted body.  

She loved her way down his neck, lingering at the hollow of his throat and nuzzling the
enticing spot just below his ear, stopping to nip his earlobe and suck gently for a
moment.  She nipped the corded muscles on his neck, as they stood out in sudden
tension, when her tongue laved first his ear and then repeated the walk down his throat,
breathing fire on his skin.  She left a bruise there that drew a deep moan of need from
him again.  

From there, she allowed her lips and tongue to travel to his shoulders and thence across
his chest, nipping and sucking until she found the nipples buried in the curls on his
chest and suckled there until his moans intensified, were joined by gasps of pleasure and
his manhood jerked in response.  After laving and loving them for several minutes, she
breathed her way down his abdomen, her breath hot upon his skin, leaving it burning
where she touched him.  Reaching the tops of his thighs, she nuzzled and kissed them,
savoring the texture there.  With every flick of her tongue and nip of her teeth on the tops
of his thighs, his hips jerked in response, now searching for relief from the sensuous
torment.  The silken curtain of her hair trailed over the sensitive skin of his shaft, leaving
jangled, tingling, nerve endings screaming with desire.

But, she didn’t return to his shaft.  Instead, after she kissed his body and caressed him
until he was trembling, now needing, wanting, her to take him in her mouth, her hands,
something, anything, to give him the relief he was aching so badly for, she lay back
against the pillows and smiled before urging him to come to her as she opened herself to
his body.

As he brought his body over hers, she finally reached for him.  And she wrapped her
fingers around his shaft, masturbating him, as she watched his face, then said, “Steel
sheathed in velvet.  I love the feel of your stiffness in my hands,
Amat Wyn, and the feel of
your velvet softness against my skin, silken, yet covering unbelievable hardness.  I wish to
feel you within me now,
Coeurawyn.  Come to me, my heart and love me now,” was the
last true whisper that the room heard for quite some time.  As his shaft plunged deeply
into her heated wetness, he began the rhythmic rocking that would bring them both to
completion.  Their moans of pleasure blended together, until they could no longer tell
where one of them ended and the other began.  He joined with her gladly and they rode
the waves into the abyss of the little death.

Martouf paced the room, picking up first one object and examining it and then another.  
“Martouf, why do you not simply sit down and relax?  There is nothing to be worried about,”
Lantash attempted to assure him quietly.  
“Samantha is well; she is just very tired.”

“I know, and that is what is bothering me.  I do not believe we should make love to her,
Lantash.  I am glad we did not really have time earlier, for though she indicated she would
welcome our advances, I believe she is too fragile and exhausted for us to keep her awake
simply to satisfy our lusts,”
Martouf said bluntly.

“While I might agree with you in principle, I do not believe Samantha would understand.  In
fact, I believe you would wound her deeply if you were to tell her that you did not wish to
make love to her,”
Lantash attempted to explain to him why they could not act in the
manner he suggested.

“I will explain that I feel it would be best for her health if we abstained until she is better.  
Surely, between the two of us, we can make her understand that the ordeal she has been
through has weakened her and she needs to rest,”
Martouf asserted firmly.

“Well, I am sure you can tell her that, but it is still my opinion that you will upset her
greatly.  I do not believe we should do that, instead, I believe we should make love to her,
gently, at least once.  If we do not, I firmly believe that she will take some erroneous idea
into her head about us no longer wanting or loving her, and then we will have a very upset
Samantha on our hands.  Perhaps one that will not forgive us easily,”
Lantash replied,
equally firm.

“Why would she do that?  If we explained to her that we do not want to put undue stress or
physical demands on her, would she not understand?”
 Martouf sounded unsure and
almost puzzled by Lantash’s answer.  

“I do not believe so,” Lantash’s answer was solemn and yet gentle.

Suddenly, Martouf brightened somewhat as an idea came to him.  He immediately
presented it to Lantash,
“Perhaps we should talk to Jacob, and see if he thinks she would
be upset.”

Lantash’s stunned silence was very telling.  Finally, he brought himself to ask, “Do you
wish to discuss our sex life with her father?”

“Ah, well, when you put it like that…no, I guess that would not be a good thing to do, would
Martouf asked, after thinking about confronting Jacob with this subject.  Thank the
universe that Lantash was thinking, because he obviously was not.

Still somewhat incredulous, Lantash told him,
“If you feel you must talk to someone, I
would suggest Daniel; however, he has already retired to be with Kataya.  Moreover, from
the look on his face and his words, I do not believe abstinence was on his mind.  Martouf,
Kataya is in less robust health than Samantha is, so you can draw your own conclusions,”

he pointed out softly.

“True.  Shall we go upstairs then, and just see where the evening leads?  We can always
plead fatigue ourselves because of your ordeal,”
Martouf responded, a little more cheerful
at the thought that they could indeed be with their mate, but had a legitimate excuse not
to put too many demands on her.

“I suggest you say goodnight to the other occupants of the room, who are watching you in
some amusement.  They have been addressing remarks to you for the last fifteen minutes
or longer, and you have not answered one of them,”
Lantash informed him, his own
amusement obvious to his mate.  

“Why did you not tell me?”  Martouf demanded, feeling somewhat abashed that he had not
even noticed that the others were attempting to talk to him.

Lantash smiled smugly.  
“Why?  I saw no reason too, as their questions were simply to try
to get your attention.  They were not really anything important, whereas our conversation
was extremely important.”

“All right.  Thank you,”
Martouf said, still slightly testy with him.   

Looking toward Jacob, he said aloud, “I am sorry, Jacob, did you want anything
important?  Lantash and I were having a rather serious discussion.”

“No, nothing important.  I suggest you and Lantash go to bed.  He isn’t completely
recovered from his experience, and you could use some extra rest.  As in sleep.  In fact, I’
m not sure you and Sam shouldn’t each take a room of your own, so that you won’t bother
each other during the night.”  Jacob said, keeping his face straight, with difficulty.

Martouf blinked at him with a slightly stunned look on his face, before regrouping to say,
“I do not believe that will be necessary, Jacob, but I will bring the idea up to Samantha
and see how she feels about it.  I will be sure to tell her it was your idea, and I will let her
know you thought that perhaps she and Jocasta could share a room,” he finished with a
subtle threat.

Turning to Jack, Jacob said, “He learns too fast.”  Looking back at Martouf, he replied,
“That was a low blow.  Don’t you dare; she’d probably come looking for my blood, and
Jocasta would agree to it, just to get back at me for suggesting it in the first place.  Forget I
even mentioned it.”

Smiling brightly at the others in the room, Martouf headed for the stairway, saying, “Very
well, Jacob.  Goodnight to all of you.  We will see you at breakfast.”

Bounding up the stairs, he realized he could hardly wait to enter their room.  He hoped
Janet had finished with his Samantha, or would finish soon.  Now that he had decided
that it would be all right to make love to his wife, he wanted to, and the sooner the better.  

He heard Lantash chortling in his head, and felt him send a warm embrace to him, along
with the equivalent of a kiss.  For the first time, Martouf realized that he and Lantash
were not only friends; they were lovers in a very real and intimate way.  The realization
made him stumble for a moment, remembering other times his symbiote had helped him
by sending the sensations of being held and loved.  How had he overlooked this for so very
long?  He stood still as the reality made itself at home within him.  He had always known,
but never acknowledged it, he realized.  He returned Lantash’s embrace and caress.  
“Does it disturb you?”  Lantash asked him.

“No, it does not.  I do not know why I never realized we were so close in that way.  
Perhaps, it was just such a natural thing that it never occurred to me that was what it
Martouf’s answer was swift and firm.

“I understand.  Being genderless, it is easier, perhaps, for us to feel these things without
Lantash pointed out.

“I feel no guilt, Lantash.  I am just very glad to have your love and comfort when I need it,”
he assured him.

“Thank you, dear one.  However, for now, we both have a mate, who is, I hope, waiting for
us to come to her,”
Lantash reminded him of their original intention and destination.  

Fervently agreeing, Martouf took a deep breath and opened the door to their room.  
Samantha was lying on the bed, her beautiful body naked in the moonlight.  The look on
her face was enough to cause them to catch their breaths.  The look in her eyes was
almost predatory.  As she looked at them, the tip of her tongue flicked out and wet her
lips, leaving them glistening.  Rolling over onto her side, but leaning forward, she smiled,
a seductive curve of the lips, and flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder.  How
quickly it had grown, he thought, irrelevantly.

As he watched her, she almost seemed to pout, “I was beginning to think you had
forgotten or abandoned me,
Amat Wyn.  Will you make it up to me?”

Martouf sent her a brilliant smile, saying, “I am willing to do anything to make it up to
you, my Samantha.  I am sorry, I did not realize that you were waiting for me or I would
have come sooner.”

Sam laughed and said softly, “I haven’t been waiting long, and I wanted to be waiting for
you.”  Seeing the longing in his eyes, she continued softly, “Why don’t you come over here
and let me help you get out of all those extra - and unnecessary - clothes?  You’re making
me feel underdressed for the occasion.  I thought that I was wearing the most appropriate
thing for the event that we’re attending.”

Martouf made his way swiftly to the bed, sat down next to her, and reached out to caress
her cheek.  Turning her head, she kissed his fingers before sitting up and reaching for the
buttons on his shirt.  He was very overdressed for what she had in mind.  She wanted this
to be a night they would remember forever.  Sam felt an unusual humming in her blood,
an excitement unlike anything she had ever felt before.  There was definitely a throbbing,
a singing in her veins.  Anticipation was a large part of what she was feeling.  She wanted
this man.  Wanted him in every way.  He was her mate and she was his.  Oh, yes, she
wanted him.  

Almost purring, Sam removed Martouf’s shirt and urged him to stand so that she could
remove his pants.  Making short work of that, she pulled him back into the bed with her,
running her hands over them almost feverishly.  Soon, she pushed him onto his back and
leaned over to take him into her mouth.  His breathing was already ragged and he was
having trouble focusing; he wanted her so badly.  

As he listened to her mewling, a faint memory stirred in their mind, but he could not be
bothered to follow it.  He was on fire for her.  He wanted her with a passion unlike any he
had ever experienced, even with her.  He could stand no more of what her mouth was
doing to him.  “Sam-Samantha, love, I cannot control myself for much longer.  You must
stop,” he managed to gasp.  Looking up at him from her position kneeling beside him, her
eyes looked enormous in the moonlight, her pupils dilated.  

Again, the memory tried to find its way into their shared consciousness, only to once again
drown in their joint need.  Lantash took over to help control that need, and sitting up, he
clasped her face in his hands, as he looked deeply into her eyes.  There was love and
need, desire and tenderness.  All of those things were in her eyes and she smiled softly at

“I love you, Lantash, so very much.  You are the Beloved of My Soul and I will always hold
you deeply within my being.  Both of you are the very Blood that rushes through my veins
and allows my heart to beat.  Please remember that.  Promise me that you will continue to
have that unwavering faith in my love for the two of you.”

“Samantha, there has been no day gone by that I have not felt the pain of the loss of you
and your love.  Yet, always in my heart of hearts, I have known of the love you held for
us.  I will never doubt that love, not today, tomorrow, or ever.”

“Then come to me, Beloved, and make me whole, for only by joining with you once again
will I truly feel that I am home in your heart where I belong.”

“You were right, Lantash, she would never have understood.  She needs this physical bond
as much as we do, does she not?”
 Martouf realized that Lantash was very correct in his
earlier suppositions.  

“Yes, Martouf, she does and we will not disappoint her.  We also need this to make us
whole again, to once again know that she has truly returned to us,”
Lantash agreed.

“Then wait no longer, dear one, for I believe she is waiting for us to come to her now,” it was
Martouf’s turn to point something out to Lantash for once.

Feeling Martouf’s embrace from within and Samantha’s from without, he allowed himself
to be pulled to her.  Lantash felt her hands leaving trails of liquid fire as she caressed
him.  He felt her mouth close around him again and moaned.  She pleasured him until he
was sure that he could stand no more, before she lay back and allowed him to pleasure
her with his hands.  She brought her hand up to the back of his neck, pleasuring Lantash
and Martouf in yet another erotic way.  She was taking them a step closer to losing what
little control they had.

His lips and tongue sought and found the nipples as they pebbled in need.  Alternately
laving and suckling, he brought both sighs and moans of pleasure from her.  Moving his
hand to the jointure of her thighs, he found her opening and probed deep into her
drenched and heated center.  Setting up a rhythm that soon set her hips in motion; he
watched the emotions play across her face as she neared the edge.  

He did not slow or stop his manipulation, but instead increased his tempo as he watched
the tension build in her.  The look on her face as her body flung itself into the spiral of her
climax enthralled him.  Dear Universe, she had been a beautiful sight in her abandoned
wantonness, her unrestrained sensuality lusting after the pleasure he brought to her,
bold and uninhibited.  

A slight smile on her lips Sam opened eyes that gleamed with an almost animal huger.  
She reached for him, a fire smoldering in those eyes as she brought him to her.  Words
were unnecessary.  They both wanted the same thing.  

Her fingers never stopped their desire-inducing caresses on his neck and back.  As she
had before, she knew the exact places and rhythms to touch him to bring him to lose all
control and act with abandon.  He moaned for her to stop torturing him, and in the same
breath, pleaded with her to never stop, to torment him forever.   

As she settled him between her legs, he gasped as she gently squeezed and caressed his
shaft with one hand and his neck with the other, before guiding him to the center of her
being.  As he sheathed himself deep within the heated cavern of her desire, she brought
his lips to hers and took them in her hunger, the way her body was claiming and
devouring his in its hunger.  

Once his manhood was buried as deeply as he could possibly go, he gasped as the
muscles in her clamped down on him to hold him buried there, deep inside her.  They
joined and he felt her contractions as she climaxed from the pressure of him.  Using her
nails on his buttocks, she encouraged him as he rotated his hips and ground against her.  

He stared into her mysteriously burning eyes, eyes that gazed back at him with such
intense yearning and longing that he shook with the desperate need to appease it.  He
was losing himself in her eyes, her scent, her body…her lust for him.  He was hers for
whatever she wished of him; he would do whatever she asked of him.  His desire to
pleasure her swept through him in an overwhelming tide.  If she pleasured him in return,
he would accept it gladly, but only after she was replete.

He was here to serve her, to pleasure her, to become nothing more than an extension of
her body and its needs.  He was an instrument for her use and gratification.  It did not
matter.  Nothing mattered but bringing completion to this woman; pleasuring her until
she was completely and utterly sated, no matter how long that might take or what he had
to do to achieve it.  

He felt her claws come out and again prick his buttocks, this time urging him to begin
moving in her.  He eagerly followed their command, holding back to be sure she was
satisfied.  Suddenly, there were no more thoughts, there were only intense sensations and
emotions, he was riding her to the stars, and she was with him every step of the way.  As
they fell over the edge into the little death, he heard her cry out their names.  

Finally, his breathing slowed and he lifted himself up onto his elbows so as not to be too
heavy as he lay on her.  Uncoupling from him, she looked up at him with eyes that were
heavy-lidded with passion.  Oddly, a fire remained burning there.  She was still on fire for
him.  As he watched it flare and then flame for them, he felt the tips of her nails raking
lightly down his back and over his buttocks to the tops of his thighs, leaving marks, but
not yet breaking the skin.  The feel of them made him shiver and moan her name.  He
was not softening as he usually did.  He wanted her again.  His desire raged through him,
slamming into him with unprecedented urgency.

Her scent was heady, a mixture of musk and something else that he could not recognize.  
Whatever it was, it was tying him to her side.  He had no wish to leave; all he could think
of was this woman, the silken feeling of her skin, the heat of her, the scent of her.  He
buried his face in her shoulder and found himself kissing her neck, nuzzling her, nipping
lightly before beginning to leave love bites, first small then slightly larger.  She turned her
head and laughed a seductive sound, enticing and encouraging.  

Dear universe, the sound, the scent, everything about her was taunting and tormenting
him.  Not only had he remained hard, he was growing harder than he had ever been, or
even thought possible.  He needed to relieve this ache that being outside her body was

He became aware of her fingers rubbing the exact spot on Lantash that could bring him
such exquisite sexual tension and torture; so near to release and yet so far away.  She was
arousing him to the point of madness and in the back of his mind, he was aware of that,
but could not deny her.  Nor did he appear to be able to take control and end the torture,
which was beginning to seem almost endless.  If she did not stop soon, he would be
imploring her for release.  Moreover, he did not care.  

She was mewling in her need, purring at him, rubbing against him, using all her wiles to
bring him to the edge, before changing and causing him to miss the final step that would
allow his climax.  It was maddening, it was erotic, and it was fascinating.  He wanted her.  
He wanted her desperately, wildly.  He was panting in his need of her, soon he would be
pleading, begging her for release, begging to please her in any way he could, do whatever
she asked him to do to relieve his ache and her need.  If he had to entreat and beseech
her, he would.  Anything to end this agony of desire.

She continued to tease and entice.  She took him in her mouth and worked to bring him
to the edge repeatedly.  His manhood was steel sheathed in velvet and he needed to bury
himself again in the heart of her heat.  He needed her again.  Needed her so badly, the
pain was becoming unbearable.  He had never ached for a woman this badly before.  She
continued his sensual torment to the point of delirium and when he could stand the agony
no more, he tried to grasp her to take her once again.  Panting, she rolled away from him,
lying on her stomach.

Groaning as she rolled away from him, he said, his voice hoarse and desperate, “Please,
my love.  I cannot bear more of this.  
Igisadonis Wyn, I ache for you.  Samantha, I must
have you, I must.”

“Yes, and so you shall, my heart, but this way, Lantash.  I want to be taken by you and
Martouf this way.”

“I do not care how; I just want you, need you.  I will do anything you ask of me, if only you
will tame this storm that you have raised in me, and dampen the flames of desire that
burn me.  Our voracious hunger for you is devouring us, Samantha,
Amat Wyn,” Martouf
spoke to her as Lantash allowed him to take over yet again, their switching seamless, as

Coming to her knees, she looked over her shoulder and invited him to come closer.  
Reaching out her hands, she once again took hold of his shaft.  He felt the rake of her
nails, a sharp pain, and stinging discomfort.  His swiftly indrawn breath and grunt of
surprise was immediately overshadowed by his overwhelming desire to be inside of her.  
The sting and hurt of the lacerations were quickly forgotten.  Martouf ignored them to
follow his craving and lusts for his mate.  Her scent was driving all thought from him,
leaving only one and that was to join with this woman, to make her as wild and frenzied
as he was feeling, and then bring her to satiation.  If taking her this way would do that,
then he would willingly mate with her as she requested.

“Come, Martouf, join with me, my mate.  Do as you wish to do, mate with me in the way of
my people.”

Her hands, her scent, her smile, everything about her called to him in a savagely pagan
way.  An alarm bell rang in the back of his mind, but too softly for Lantash to hear it over
the clamoring of the blood rushing through their veins.  Martouf again released control to
him and he mounted Samantha from behind, joining with her, sinking deeply into her
center, until the softness of her buttocks fit snugly against him.  He caressed them
lovingly, his shaft buried as deeply as it would go, and he felt the muscles of her womb
contracting.  Her vaginal walls encased him so tightly that he did not think he could move
without hurting her, so he froze in place.  As he did, he trembled as her fluids bathed his
manhood and he was aware on some primal level that he was absorbing her essence.  He
was awash in her moisture and it both soothed the rawness her nails had inflicted and
inflamed his need for more of her, as if it was both fire and ice.

Her voice called him back from where his senses were riveted on the sensations that were
nearly overwhelming him.  “Lantash, kiss my back, my shoulders,” Sam whispered to him
seductively.  “Love me,” she moaned.  “My body feels so sensitive; when you kiss me, it
sets me on fire for you. I want, I need, to feel you marking me, on my throat, my neck, my

Following her voice and her words, Lantash forgot about being buried in her and began to
kiss and nip her back, working swiftly toward her shoulders and neck, his hands reaching
for her breasts, caressing them as he did her bidding and began to bite and nip the back
of her neck and shoulders.  Her sighs and moans drove him to greater endeavors.  Soon
Sam was almost sobbing to him.  “Ah, m-my l-love, please, harder, yes, on my neck, claim
me, take me as your mate.  Harder, Lantash.  Yes, my neck, and my shoulders.  Both
sides Lantash, both sides of my neck and shoulders, you must do it harder, nip me
harder, please, suck, suck harder.  You must draw blood,” she moaned to him.  

Fiery lust was driving him now.  Blindly, mindlessly, following her demands, he heard her
scream into her pillow as he nipped, and sucked on her neck and shoulders repeatedly.  
Tasting the blood that he was bringing, still he could not seem to stop.  Her sensuality,
her scents, her sounds, the taste of her blood seemed to inflame his carnal cravings and
push him beyond any control.  Suddenly she was moving frantically, her vaginal walls
clenching and releasing him.  His mouth locked onto the nape of her neck, he growled
deep in his throat, his passion savage, as he rode her to completion, before collapsing
beside her.  She curled up on his chest and he could feel her purring as he drifted off to

Lantash slowly awoke and tried to focus.  What had happened?  He felt as if he had been
drugged.  Martouf was still asleep, but he realized that it was an unnatural sleep.  Think,
he needed to think.  If only his head did not feel as if it was full of some soft substance
that he could not work through.  

He dozed for a short time before coming awake once again.  This time, he began to
remember.  He had disjointed images of waking repeatedly after their first savage
lovemaking, to Samantha’s kisses hot on his body, her hands and lips bringing his shaft
to hardness many times.  Moreover, he remembered, he and Martouf had spilled their
seed in her repeatedly.  She had drained him.  He moaned quietly to himself.  His
memories were still hazy at best.  What had they done?  However, even more

She was lying on his chest again, as she had after each session of lovemaking.  She was
purring again, completely content and sated for the moment.  Lantash took a deep breath,
to try to help clear his mind, and as the scent once again washed over and through him,
he remembered exactly where he had smelled it before.  

Dear Universe.  He had smelled it only once, when he and Kataya had decided to have
kits.  As his thoughts chased one another through his mind, he knew he had to get to
Kataya and find out exactly what that scent meant.  He was certain he knew, though, and
it scared him half to death.

Moving slowly and fighting the urge to simply give in, lie down beside her, and take her
into his arms to love her again, he worked his way out from under her.  As he left her
lying in the center of the bed, he reached down and drew the sheet over her.  Struggling,
he managed to sit up on the edge of the bed.  

His head swam alarmingly, so he breathed slowly until his world steadied.  He, too, was
drugged, of course.  Stars of Fire, there was nothing that he knew of in the entire universe
that worked on the male senses as strongly as the Pher’ak’tel of the Furling, Lun’ak’mat.  
Not even Hathor could call a man as the scent, of the mating cycle, the heat cycle, of the
female Furling did.  

He seemed to remember Kataya saying that she controlled hers, though.  So what did that
mean?  Did Samantha do this deliberately?  Moreover, he did not remember Kataya
continuing to make love repeatedly.  Nor had he been this drugged.  Drugged yes, but
nothing like this.  Other than the scent, and a few minor things, little matched the mating
with Kataya when she was in heat.  Something was wrong.  He had to get to Kataya.

Finally getting to his feet and making his way to the wardrobe, he fumbled around until
he found a dressing gown, a necessity in the Tau’ri world, and evidently used here on
Valdellon as they had all been given one.  He doubted Daniel would appreciate him
coming into their room naked, so he was glad to have it.

Taking care, he walked to the door after checking on Samantha.  She was becoming
restless, her hands trying to find him even in sleep, and the mewling cry he should have
recognized, was again making itself heard.  He had to hurry, or he would not be leaving
this room.  He wondered idly if a couple could kill one another with lovemaking.  He
certainly felt as if he had been through a brawl.  Every muscle in Martouf’s body was

Moreover, he realized, one particular portion of their anatomy felt as if it had been raked
raw.  He did not look because he did not need to.  It had been raked and it had bled.  
That, too, he remembered from the Lun’ak’mat with Kataya.  It had been painful that
time, too.  He had better get started on healing them as soon as possible.  He hoped he
could heal at least that one thing before Martouf regained consciousness.  

Using the hallway wall to support and guide him, he walked the few steps from his
chamber to Daniel’s room.  He did not bother to knock on Daniel’s door.  They had
become so used to entering each other’s rooms, to care for one another during the
nightmares, that he simply opened the door and walked in.  And then, immediately
wished that he had not done so, as he tripped over the clothes piled on the floor and
found himself falling to his knees.  As they made contact with the hardness of the floor, he
moaned loudly as the pain traveled up his bruised and battered body.  It was just one
more ache and pain to endure for the moment and heal when he could.

Dear Universe, he was about at the end of his endurance and he still had to care for
Samantha.  Looking toward the bed, he closed his eyes, viciously swearing at whatever
god had decided to punish him at this particular point in time for his multitude of sins,
then attempted to stumble blindly to his feet.  When he succeeded, he turned his back on
the couple in the bed, and heard Daniel’s incredulous voice saying, “Lantash?  Lantash,
why are you in my room,
now?  If you had a nightmare, couldn’t Sam take care of it this
time?”  Surely you haven’t had a fight?”  Daniel demanded, before being distracted and
asking, “And what is that smell?  Where is it coming from?  Wow, that is something else.  
Very potent.”

“I am fully aware of its potency, Daniel,” Lantash snapped, tiredly.  “You do not have to
draw my attention to that fact.”

“Well it smells great, wherever it’s from,” Daniel said, obviously quite oblivious to anything
but the scent, now that it had his attention.

Lantash groaned as he stood facing the door and he could hear Kataya choking on her
laughter.  “Kataya, I need you, please.  This is an urgent need, or I would not have
bothered you, I assure you.  If I knew of anything else I could do I would, but there is no
one else I can come to for help in this way.”

His mind obviously in a place somewhere below his waist and not deviating from those
thoughts, Daniel frowned and said firmly, “I don’t care how urgent your need is, Lantash, I’
m not sharing Kataya with you.  Why are you laughing?”  He asked Kataya, as he looked
down at her.

“I, um, I do not believe he meant he needed me in that way, Daniel.  I believe that
perhaps Samantha is, ah, unwell.  Is that not it, Lantash?”

“Yes,” he answered tersely.  “And I do not find this situation amusing.”

He heard Kataya sigh, as she said, “No, and I believe that I, too, will shortly find as little to
amuse me in the situation as you do.  Please, Daniel, I must get up and help Lantash.”

Rolling off Kataya, she heard him mutter, “Well, that’s worked better than a cold shower.”  
Then swinging his legs out of the bed, he stood, walked to the wardrobe, grabbed his
dressing gown, and took out one of Kataya’s for her.

“Thank you,
Amat Wyn.  Why do you not stay here, and I will return as soon as I can.”  
She suggested quietly, as she stood and walked to the wardrobe herself, wanting a
sleeping gown as well as a dressing gown.

“No, if Sam’s sick, you might need me, too,” Daniel countered, as his brain finally kicked
into a gear besides low.  

Kataya nodded her acquiescence, only saying, “Very well; however, if you are going, then
please help Lantash.  He is still drugged and therefore probably unsteady on his feet.”  
Turning to Lantash, she asked, “Is Martouf awake?”

“No.  He is still unconscious.  What has happened, Kataya?  I do not remember this
happening when you, well, when we decided to have kits.  I remember that scent, the
purring and mewling.  I only wish that I had remembered it sooner.  I only recognized it
when I regained consciousness this time.  But, I do not remember it being like this,”
Lantash said, as he turned toward her in his distress.  He gazed at her, before realizing
what he was doing, then averting his eyes he swallowed, hard.  He had forgotten what a
beautiful body she had.  “I am sorry,” he said, as he turned back around while she
finished pulling a gown on and settling the robe around her.

“You have no need to apologize, Lantash.  You are obviously distraught, and if what I
suspect has happened, has indeed happened,” her voice trailed off and she shrugged, as
they left the room and walked the few steps to Lantash and Samantha’s chamber.  

Daniel walked beside Lantash, frowning as he held his arm to help him.  It was apparent
that Kataya was correct and he was not steady on his feet at all.  Besides, Kataya had said
he was drugged.  He wished he could make the connection.  When he stepped into their
room and the heavy scent of musk and something else he couldn’t put a name to hit him,
he had a sudden flash of himself and Kataya being surrounded by a similar scent.  Only
with Kataya, it had been the musk and roses, concentrated a hundred fold with some
indefinable scent added.  He wished he could remember why it happened, though, as he
felt that answer was pretty important right now.    

Kat turned on the light as they entered the room.  Sam was tossing on the bed and had
become uncovered.  Lantash and Daniel both gasped, as Kataya walked calmly to the bed,
and reached for Sam with one hand while she covered her with the other.  Daniel stood
transfixed by both the scent and the sight of Sam.  Kataya sat on the edge of the bed and
Lantash came around to talk to her as he gazed in horror at his Samantha.  

“What did I do to her, Kataya?  How could I do this to her?”  Anguish colored his voice,
and he was obviously appalled at what he was seeing.  

Kataya sighed.  “You did only what she told you to do, Lantash.  Do not let it concern you.  
Moreover, I believe that you will find that most of the blood is yours.  You have only to look
at yourself to see that.  She would have used her claws on you to, ah, bring blood to the
surface.  When you drew blood on her, it allowed her to release her eggs and the blending
of your blood and your semen will ensure fertilization.  As for the blood, there is not as
much here as it looks like, it is simply somewhat smeared making it appear more than
there is.”  

“Everything Samantha did was done on instinct only.  None of the wounds are any more
than minor, including the one or two you inflicted on her neck.  They will heal quickly,
probably within hours.  She had no prior knowledge of this, Lantash.  None.  However,
prior knowledge or not, the consequences are the same.  Congratulations, Lantash.  You
are quite probably going to once again become a father.”

“No, this can not be allowed to happen, Kat.  She is not able to withstand being with
child.  You know she needs care, food, rest, and … how could this happen, Kataya?  Why
would she do this?”  

Kataya shook her head, “As I said, she did
not deliberately do this, Lantash.  I suppose
this is something I should have foreseen.  As a Furling, she would have known, but as a
Tau’ri, she has had no experience in suppressing her heat cycle.  Young Furling females
learn to control them and until they are a few millennia old, they use a liquid that
suppresses it.  It never occurred to me that Samantha would have a Furling heat cycle
rather than her normal Tau’ri cycle.  I am sorry and I will discuss it with her, if you wish.”

“Are you sure she, she conceived?  

“The Pher’ak’tel, will have caused you to allow Martouf to release sperm, Lantash.  There
is no way you would have been in any condition to stop that from happening, as you
would normally have done, nor would you have any desire to prevent conception,” Kataya
explained to him softly.    

Can you be positive?”

“I will check her with my ribbon device, but my opinion, from the amount of scent and
depth of the drugging on you and Martouf, is that it is very probable.   I can stop it, if you
wish.  I can use the healing device on her to abort anything that may have started.  I
really think that should be her decision, though, not ours.”

“Of course, you are right.  If she is with child, and wishes to remain so, then, then we will
adjust.  You and I had kits and managed, and Samantha and I will also, if that is her
wish.”  He looked stricken for a moment.  “I assured her there would be no children
because of the pain involved, Kataya.  I have broken my word.”

“I hardly think she will consider this a breach of your word, Lantash, and I can assure you
that she never took your words seriously.  She wanted to have children with you, so I do
not imagine she will be unduly upset.  Remember, she is the one that drugged you,
however inadvertently.”

Hearing Sam begin to purr loudly, Lantash and Kataya looked over at her in time to see
Daniel lean over and kiss her.  Sam wove her arms around his neck; he looked at her
dazedly, and wrapped her in his arms.

Lantash looked on, in shock, and Kat laughed abruptly, before reaching over and taking
Sam’s arms from around Daniel’s neck.  “No, Samantha, you do not wish to mate with my
Daniel.  In fact, it is time you stopped wanting to mate at all.  Daniel, you will come with
me please.  Daniel!”  Giving up on that, she turned to Lantash, who seemed to have
acquired at least a little immunity to the pheromones that Sam was producing.  They were
very strong, Kat realized.  They were even affecting her slightly.  She needed to awaken
Merdwin.  The scent was filtering into the hall, and soon it would affect the rest of the men
on that floor.

“Lantash, stay with her and try to soothe her
without mating with her again.  Daniel, you
will come with me, now,” she said, as she took his hand from where he was slowly
caressing Sam, and led him from the room.  “If you wish to be aroused by pheromones,
you will use that arousal on me.”  Daniel followed her happily from the room.  The nice
thing about it was that most men did not care what female they were with, as long as they
were with one.  

She knocked on Merdwin’s bedroom door.  She could hear the sound of low-voiced
conversation and then the door opened.  Merdwin stood in front of her, and his eyes
widened before he slammed his door and retreated into his room.

“What was that all about?”  Daniel frowned at the rudeness of the gesture.

“He will return in a moment, Daniel, once he has protected himself.”

“Protected himself from what?  There isn’t any danger here,” Daniel said as he frowned
again, trying to figure out what the problem was.  Finding no logic in Kataya’s response or
Merdwin’s, he abandoned that thought to a more pleasant activity.  Leaning forward, he
pulled Kataya to him and began to nuzzle her neck.  She shivered slightly, before sighing
regretfully and pulling away.  “I am sorry, Daniel, but not now.  Please go back to our
room, my love.  I know you recognize the scent and I know you will realize what can
happen.  Please, Daniel, try very hard to fight this, difficult as that will be,” she said,
before relenting and leaning her forehead against his and pulling forth the remainder of
the memories that had tried to surface a short time before.  He needed them in order to
protect himself.  She simply could not be worried about him, when she had a house full of
males to protect.

Shaking his head as if to clear it and then nodding, he said, “Yeah, I think I will.  Wow.  
That is some strong stuff.  It’s a very powerful, potent aphrodisiac, isn’t it?”  He frowned as
the memories came to him.  Closing his eyes, he said, “Oh, yeah, very powerful.  It’s only
used when kits are to be conceived.  It’s part of your mating cycle.  Sam’s pregnant isn’t
she, Kataya?”

“Yes, it is, and yes, very probably.  
Coeurawyn, please, I suggest you go into our room and
sit outside on the balcony so that your senses can clear.  I have tried to protect you, but it
will not last long.  Merdwin will be able to weave a stronger shield and cast it, but until he
does, you will be alright if you remain in our room and get some fresh air.”  

Nodding his agreement, he leaned forward and caught her lips in a kiss before pulling
back and saying, “I agree.  I’ll just become another problem if I remain here.  If you need
me, you’ll call, though, right?”

“Yes, I promise you, I will.”  She said softly.  “And perhaps,” she teased him, “once we
settle this, I will allow you to come into the hall for a short time right before I return,
although I do not believe that we need it.”  

Daniel laughed shortly, agreed, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and headed back to their
room to shut himself into it.  Then he would go out either onto the balcony or, at the least,
to stand in the open doorway leading out there.

The door behind Kataya opened, and Merdwin and Janet came into the hall.  “What has
happened, Kataya?”

“Samantha has come into heat and released a great amount of pheromones into the air.  
Martouf is still drugged; I believe this is due to the fact that she has no control over the
amount or potency of the hormones and chemicals that she is generating.  Lantash is
recovering, but barely, and if he is left in the room with her for long, he will probably
succumb again.  They are both, ah, in rather tattered condition.”  

Hearing a scream from down the hall, one that they both recognized, she added, “And I
believe that Gwennetha just added to the amount of pheromones in the air.  Unless I miss
my guess, in four to five months, we will become grandparents.”  


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Table of Contents
Daughters of the Queen

Chapter Seven

A Night to Remember ------ Or Not