by Sue Lyndon
Not only was Commander Vavvis conscious again, but he’d dared to land an airship in front of Zamek’s house. Two warriors from Brutt District accompanied him, but there was no sign of Councilors Horth and Crozz this time.
“I will fight with you cousin,” Xazzok said, appearing in the doorway, clutching a sword in one hand.
“You’re a retired warrior,” Zamek pointed out.
“I didn’t retire because I grew old and feeble, I served the required minimum of ten years in the Kall army and then I decided to run a vineyard and take a wife I couldn’t ever bear to be apart from.” He stood tall in the doorway, holding the sword higher. “But I still practice my battle skills daily.”
“Zamek,” Layla said in a shaky tone.
He turned to face his new bride. Worry clouded her eyes and her hands trembled at her sides.
“All will be well, wife,” he said, reaching out to cup her face. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and met her eyes. “Stay here. Inside the house. I expect both you and Fallonn, as well as all the servants, to remain inside with the doors and windows locked. Once Xazzok and I step outside, I will activate the house-wide security system.” He was confident he would best Commander Vavvis and the foolish warriors who’d come with him, but when it came to Layla’s safety, he would not take any chances.
“Please, be careful,” Layla said, tears glittering in her eyes. “I-I don’t want to lose you.”
He softened his expression. “You won’t lose me.” After one final kiss, he joined Xazzok in the entryway, where he donned his weapons’ belt, but kept his battle-ax out in his hand. He turned to peer at Layla one last time. “You shouldn’t watch,” he said.
Then he was gone. Out the door with his battle-ax held high. He paused long enough to set the house-wide alarm, then he focused on the three foolish males who would undoubtedly die today.
“We are here to take you into custody, on behalf of Kall authorities. We are also here to collect your slave and deliver her for execution.” Commander Vavvis snarled. “Throw down your weapons and surrender.”
“Hm. I don’t think you’re here for any of that, Commander,” Zamek said in a condescending tone. “Layla and I have just been married—and yes, we had a marriage license approved earlier today by the Sumlin District council. Marriage laws predate the laws concerning retribution rights. Layla is safe and legally protected. Furthermore, you know as well as I that it takes a majority vote from the High Council to charge me with treason or strip me of my position as General. No such vote has been called yet, or I would have been invited to the session to defend myself and answer questions.”
Vavvis went pink. “You married that human?” He slammed his sword in the dirt.
“I did,” Zamek replied with a smile, turning his battle-ax in his hand, his manner casual by outward appearances only. He was acutely conscious of the balance of the weapon and the distance between himself and Vavvis. One calculated toss and he could split Vavvis’s skull in two.
“Councilors Horth and Crozz intend to call for a vote soon!” Vavvis cried out, his tone that of a petulant child who wasn’t getting his way.
“As is their right,” Zamek said, “though I doubt it will do them much good. My friends in the High Council assure me that a majority will not be reached.”
Vavvis’s face paled another shade of pink. “You-you have friends in the High Council?”
As he continued spinning his battle-ax, ever so slowly yet carefully, Zamek nodded. “Many friends.” Many might be a stretch, but he had enough, and that was all that mattered now.
“Then I challenge you for your position as General!” Vavvis yelled.
“Ah, and there it is, the real reason you’re here. You thought I would be easily disposed of, didn’t you?”
The commander growled, and the two warriors with him started to back away. They were young and Vavvis had likely manipulated them into joining his doomed cause, no doubt with promises of a High Warrior medal.
“Where are you going?” Vavvis said, spinning on his companions. “We must fight!”
“You tricked us,” one of the warriors said. “You told us General Zamek had already lost his position as General. You told us the vote had already taken place and that he’d been officially charged with treason too.”
The two warriors sheathed their swords and returned to the airship.
Vavvis sputtered and once again slammed the tip of his sword into the dirt.
Zamek glanced at an amused looking Xazzok. “I don’t believe I’ll have any difficulty slaying this ummkka on my own. I hope you’re not upset that you won’t be needed in the fight, cousin, though I am deeply honored that you took up your sword on my behalf.”
Xazzok chuckled and stepped back. “This ummkka is all yours,” he said with an elaborate gesture at an increasingly pink-faced Vavvis.
“Better move back a bit farther, cousin, to avoid the blood splatter.”
“Good idea. This is why you’re the General.” Xazzok laughed again and Zamek found himself joining him. It would be an easy fight, too easy. But the commander wasn’t fit to breath Kall air, let alone continue to lead warriors. He’d conspired against Zamek and his family—for Layla was now his family—and for that the dishonorable male would die.
“Why are they just standing there talking? And why did those other warriors return to the ship?” Layla asked, her stomach tightening with worry as she peered out the second-floor window, where they had a much better view than in the downstairs sitting room.
“I sensed feelings of betrayal in them, but now they are too far away, and I can no longer detect their emotions. That probably means Commander Vavvis tricked them into coming here and they are refusing to fight, as they don’t view the fight as righteous.”
“Oh. Well, that has to be good,” Layla said. “But why won’t they turn on the commander and join Zamek and Xazzok?”
“Because it’s no longer their fight,” Fallonn said.
Layla supposed that made sense. Sort of. For all the years she’d spent studying Kall culture, the aliens still confounded her now and then. But they were a warrior race whose sense of honor ran deep, she reminded herself. The two males who’d retreated into the airship likely viewed Commander Vavvis as Zamek’s fair kill.
When Xazzok backed up and appeared to be chuckling about something with Zamek, Layla emitted an exasperated sigh. “I can’t believe they are joking around and having a laugh right now. This is serious.”
Fallonn patted Layla on the back. “I sense Zamek’s confidence. I am sure he will—ohhhhh! Look away!”
In the time it took Layla to blink, Commander Vavvis had withdrawn a knife from his boot and hurled it straight at Zamek. Though Zamek had tried to move out of the way, the knife had still caught him and embedded in his flesh. She could see the handle of the knife protruding from his chest. Or maybe it was his shoulder. From this angle, she couldn’t be certain.
But still. He had a knife sticking out of him. Fear washed through her and she started shaking. It had to hurt, and it bothered her to know he was in pain.
To her shock, Zamek yanked the knife from his chest, tossed it in the air once, allowing it to flip over and over, then caught it by the hilt. He promptly tossed it at Vavvis, and the knife sank straight into the male’s… eyeball.
Holy shit.
Zamek and Xazzok exchanged a look and started laughing again, and Layla wanted to run outside and scream at them for having fun with this. Her husband was a general, which meant he was a much better fighter than Vavvis, yet he hadn’t finished the male off yet. Her anxiety kept cranking up notch after notch. She suspected Zamek could end this quickly if he wanted to, the key word being want.
Did he wish to draw the fight out just for his own amusement? She knew he was a fierce warrior, and also that he had a dark side, a vengeful side, but she hoped he ended this fight soon before something went wrong. What if Vavvis pulled a surprise?
Vavvis stumbled and reached for the k
nife, pulling it from his eye. With a snarl, he tossed the weapon aside. Blood gushed down his face and he wiped at it with the back of his hand. With his good eye, he peered at the knife on the ground for a moment. Even from this distance, Layla noticed the unblemished side of his face turned quite pale and his one remaining eye widened. He was regarding the knife as if it were a venomous serpent ready to strike, then his focus abruptly returned to Zamek.
The fight continued, with Zamek and Vavvis charging at one another. When they clashed, Layla winced and fought the urge to cover her eyes. But she forced herself to watch. Zamek was her husband, and she cared about him, and dammit she could not turn away from the battle. She had to know what happened as soon as it happened.
“Hm. I sense Zamek’s growing arrogance,” Fallonn said.
“You don’t say,” Layla mumbled under her breath.
Zamek’s battle-ax repeatedly clashed with Vavvis’s sword, over and over, from this angle and that, and Layla was starting to get dizzy just watching them move in circles below.
Finally, Vavvis sustained another wound—namely, the loss of two fingers. And somehow, somefuckinghow, Zamek got a hold of said fingers and held them in the air, clearly taunting his foe. Then he tossed the fingers straight at Vavvis, and they bounced off his chest and into the dirt. Blood flowed from the commander’s injured hand.
Layla wondered how much blood was flowing from Zamek’s wound. His uniform shirt was black, making it difficult to see dark red blood seeping into the fabric. She prayed he wasn’t injured worse than he was letting on.
Zamek finally knocked Vavvis’s sword from his hands. The commander scrambled for his weapon in the dirt, and as he bent over, Zamek dealt the final blow—slicing his skull clean in half with the battle-ax.
Relief mingled with disgust—holy shit what had she just watched?—and Layla sank to her knees in front of the window, no longer able to hold herself up. Her legs had turned to jelly, and nerves were wreaking havoc on her system.
“Fluxx, I need a drink after watching that,” Fallonn announced.
“Me too.” Layla took a few steadying breaths and grabbed hold of the windowsill, using it to draw herself to her feet. Though her legs were still shaky, she managed a couple of steps without collapsing. “God, I don’t think my heart will ever stop pounding. Also, I’m seriously considering stabbing Zamek myself. He should’ve ended it quickly.”
“I told you not to watch, human,” a deep familiar voice called up the stairs.
Layla moved to the landing and peered down at Zamek. Then she practically tripped over her feet as she rushed down the stairs to greet him. Apparently, a closer view of him alive and breathing had given her the burst of energy required to get her legs working properly.
He caught her in his arms and kissed her soundly, clutching her face as he growled into her mouth. She pushed at him and withdrew from the kiss.
“Wait! Stop! You’re bleeding.”
He glanced down at his shirt, then at the front of Layla’s dress, which was now covered in his blood. “I am fine, human, I promise. I’ve endured worse. Xazzok will stitch me up, he’s done it before and is just as skilled as a healer, in my opinion.”
“Xazzok!” Layla called, as the male joined them in the entryway. “Xazzok, we need you immediately. Zamek is bleeding. Please help him.”
“Shh, Layla, all will be well,” Zamek said, stroking her hair.
His eyes promptly rolled back into his head and he collapsed on the floor, taking Layla down with him. She hovered over him and gasped when his skin went from its usual deep shade of red to a light purple.
“Poison,” Xazzok said, falling to the ground on the other side of his cousin. His gaze cut to a servant. “Retrieve the knife from outside. I suspect it was coated in a toxin.”
Chapter 26
Everything hurt and he couldn’t open his eyes.
Fluxx. What had happened?
Zamek groaned and tried to sit up, but he couldn’t seem to move his arms or even his legs. And his eyes… why couldn’t he open them?
Somewhere in the distance, he heard a male speaking. “After making me run down the mountain twice in one day, General Zamek is going to owe me several more boxes of supplies. Another bag of coins might be nice too.”
“I assure you that can be arranged,” someone said with a laugh. “Given the late hour, we also hope you will stay the night, Brother Hollinx, and enjoy the hospitality of my cousin’s home.”
Xazzok. It was Xazzok speaking, and he was talking to a Holy One.
“When will he wake up?” came a familiar feminine voice.
Layla. My wife.
Finally, Zamek forced his eyes open, though the movement pained him. He also reached a hand in the direction of Layla’s sweet voice, hoping to touch her. Small soft fingers soon laced through his and she squeezed his hand.
“Zamek,” she breathed, peering at him with tears glistening in her pretty dark eyes.
All at once, memories fell back into place. Commander Vavvis and Councilors Horth and Crozz, then the commander again, showing up with two young, foolish warriors. The fight Zamek had won. Why had he passed out? The knife wound hadn’t seemed very deep, nor had it pained him very much.
“What happened?” he asked. Using all his strength, he sat up in bed and leaned against the pillows and headboard. He took in the room. His bedchamber.
“Commander Vavvis dipped the knife in a toxin,” Xazzok replied, rising out of a chair. He nodded at the Holy One who hovered nearby. “Fortunately, our friend Brother Hollinx rushed back down the mountain to tend to you. He extracted the poison and sewed up your wound. It was too deep a cut for the dermal regenerator.”
Zamek looked at the Holy One. “I owe you my life, Brother Hollinx. For as long as you live, anything you require, you need only ask. I am indebted to you.”
Brother Hollinx nodded deeply and soon departed the room, presumably to get his rest in a guestroom. Xazzok departed as well, leaving Zamek alone with Layla.
His wife. Ancient gods, he’d managed it. He’d managed to make her his wife.
Though the day hadn’t turned out exactly as he’d planned.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Layla said. “When you collapsed and turned light purple, I was so scared. I worried you might die.” She wiped at a tear that cascaded down her cheek and graced him with a tender smile.
“I turned light purple?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded, and he took note of how fatigued she appeared. Her eyes were red-rimmed with darker circles outside the red puffiness, and she slumped slightly in her chair, as if she were struggling to hold herself up.
He scooted over, drew the covers back, and patted the space beside him.
“Come to bed, wife. It’s our wedding night, after all.”
She gave him a scandalized look.
“Are you seriously suggesting that we—”
“No,” he said, “but I intend to hold you all night.”
She sank onto the bed and settled next to him, curling against his side as he draped a protective arm around her. He kissed her forehead and breathed in her floral scent, and even though his legs still wouldn’t quite move, his cock shifted in his pants. Fluxx. He couldn’t help it. Her nearness filled him with want.
But her eyes soon fluttered shut and she drifted off.
Tomorrow. They would consummate their marriage tomorrow.
He kissed her again and joined her in sleep.
A cool breeze ruffled the curtains. Layla stood at the window, gazing at the twin moons and the star-encrusted sky. I have them all now. The moon and all the stars. Or, moons, in this case.
Zamek had healed ridiculously fast, thanks to a medicinal salve that the Holy Ones made from an orange flower that grew right here on the mountainside.
At this time yesterday, Zamek had been lying abed, still a sickly shade of light purple, his breathing erratic. But this morning he’d risen from bed as if nothing had happened, as if he
hadn’t almost died.
Her heart ached at the thought of losing him. Thank God the threat was over, his enemies—and hers—dead or subdued. The High Council members who’d arrived with Commander Vavvis yesterday had even been suspended, pending an investigation into their ill-fated friendship with Vavvis.
Layla didn’t quite understand the intricacies of the High Council or even how Kall law was sometimes interpreted, but Zamek was entirely confident that she was now safe on his planet and she trusted him.
She’d seen him at his worst—glimpsed his darkest, cruelest moments—but she’d also been on the receiving end of his compassion, his gentleness. And so, she trusted him and even harbored a growing affection for him.
Her breath caught at this realization. She’d come to care about Zamek. How could she not? He hadn’t just shown her compassion, but he’d risked his life for hers and she would never forget.
Footsteps in the corridor set her pulse to racing. Perhaps Zamek had returned from escorting Brother Hollinx back to the temple. She turned and stared at the door, her heart thumping faster as the footsteps got closer and closer.
Zamek entered the room and his gaze softened when it landed on her. He’d already removed his weapons’ belt, though he looked formidable enough in his warrior uniform alone. Her heart skittered at the sight of him, and she offered him a tentative smile that he was quick to return.
Alone. Today had been a busy day, but now they were finally alone.
Given the dark, feral gleam that suddenly entered his eyes, there was no doubt in her mind about how they would spend the rest of the evening. He’d made several comments to her today about consummating their marriage and heat abruptly gathered in her core, pulsing white-hot as flutters erupted in her stomach.
“Wife.” He reached her in three large strides and took her in his arms, peering down at her with an intensity that made her quiver with need.
“Husband,” she whispered.
He leaned down to place a kiss upon her lips and his tenderness shocked her. He’d never kissed her with such sweetness before, and she wrapped her arms around him and met the slow, careful thrusts of his tongue with her own, drinking him in and reveling in his touch. Occasionally, he would withdraw from the kiss, only to stare down at her with that same feral intensity for a few seconds, then he would press his lips back to hers for another gentle kiss.
