by Anna Argent
Warrian clenched his jaw in an effort to reject her words before they could sink in and become a part of him. He’d been with many women over the years, but never one who was so open and free with praise. Even before the garala had affected her, she’d been obvious in her perusal of his body. And the look of appreciation he’d seen in her eyes had made it difficult to remember his place.
“You should sleep now.”
She tugged at his shirt. “Come sleep with me. I want to snuggle up against you and breathe you in.” She buried her nose against his neck and dragged in a long breath. “You smell so freaking good.”
Lust tightened into a fist, nearly choking off his air. She had been through so much tonight. She was too vulnerable here, and he knew that had to frighten her. He wanted to wrap himself around her and hold her while she slept, keeping all threats at bay. Including her fear. But that was impossible. He knew if he settled beside her as she asked, if he let her wriggle close to him, the last shreds of his self-control would rip apart and he would take what she seemed so willing to give.
“I cannot,” he told her.
She gripped his shirt and pulled him down so that she was on eye level with him. Her eyes were a calm, tropical blue, drowsy and filled with need. She stared at him for a long time as if searching for something. He stayed still, letting her do as she willed.
And then she moved, closing the distance until her lips were pressed against the corner of his mouth, so hot and soft he nearly groaned with pleasure.
She kept pressing hot, fervent kisses over his tightly sealed lips.
“Open your mouth, Warrian.”
He shook his head, not daring to speak. If he got even a small taste of her again, he knew he’d be lost. He’d give in and take from her what she offered.
This was not her. This was the effects of the garala forcing her to act against her will. As long as he remembered that, he would remain strong.
Finally, after suffering through the torture of resisting the need to claim her mouth, she finally relented, sagging back onto the couch with a pout. “You’re no fun at all.”
“None,” he agreed. “I am the least fun person you will ever meet.”
She lifted her hands toward him in offering. “Join me, Warrian. There’s room on the couch for both of us.”
His cloak had fallen open, revealing the lovely flush of arousal painted across her skin. Beneath the Loriahan blue garment that cupped her breasts, he could see how hard and eager her nipples were, as if reaching for him.
He had never wanted to remove an item of clothing as much as he wished to cut that blue scrap of fabric from her body. And he knew if he did, she would welcome the invasion, perhaps even begging him to touch and taste what lay beneath.
Warrian stood there, shaking with need and indecision. He knew how much pleasure he could bring her. He knew how much relief from fear and tension he could offer. His hands and mouth could give her everything she needed without him ever entering her body.
But what if she demanded more? What if she wanted to be filled with his hard flesh? What if she wanted to feel the hot spurt of his seed within her?
He didn’t think he’d find the strength to resist crossing that boundary. If he gave in to her small demands now, he knew that the bigger demands she might make on him would be even harder to deny.
A small piece of him died in regret as he did what he knew he must do. He gathered her hands and laid them at her sides. “I will not lay with you. You must sleep alone, Your Imperial Majyr. If you still feel this way when you wake, we’ll discuss it.”
“Promise?”
“I do.”
“I’m going to remember you said that.” She let out a long, disappointed sigh and closed her eyes.
He wasn’t sure she would remember, but before he lost his head, Warrian tugged his cloak closed at her throat and pulled the hood back over her pale hair, hiding her completely. There was nothing he could do about the taste of her on his lips, and the way it sang through him in a riot of frenetic need, but at least his honor remained whole.
“Sleep now. The others will arrive soon and we will move to the window.”
“I’m not even going to ask what that is,” said the empress with a yawn. “That’s how relaxed I am.”
That was fortunate. The fewer questions she asked, the better. It wasn’t his place to play tutor, only to bring her back home alive and well so that she could perform her duties.
He would remain here and perform his, seeking out more of the Taken from House Loriah.
Now that she was covered, and he was no longer being licked by the flames of lust, he realized that the air in here was cold—too cold for her to sleep comfortably. He found clean bedding in one of the rooms where the other men had been staying and draped it over her. When he was done, all he could see was a mound of fabric covering her body, but he knew what lay beneath those layers. He knew how she sounded when pleasure suffused her body. He knew how she tasted, and how warm and smooth her skin felt beneath his hand. And that knowledge was going to haunt him, inflame him, and tempt him with impossible, untouchable things.
Warrian turned his back on her, shoving away thoughts that had no place on this mission or any other. Unfortunately, the empress was not as easily dismissed as he would have hoped.
He busied himself with his duties and pretended her pull on him did not exist, that he couldn’t hear her soft, sleepy sighs, or see her lithe body shifting beneath the covers as if seeking more heat.
After starting a fire in the hearth, he began patrolling the house, making a circle of the windows to watch out for the enemy. The Raide would come for her. There was no question about that. All Warrian had to do was stay focused and keep her safe until the transportation window opened tomorrow afternoon. A few hours and he would be victorious, his family’s name restored. That alone was worth far more than an endless night of misplaced, unspent lust.
Several hours later, one of the proximity alarms blinked, drawing his attention. Through the window, he saw headlights bouncing over the rough, rocky road leading to the house.
He knelt beside the empress, silently shaking her awake. “Gather yourself. We may need to flee.”
She pushed the blankets off, jolting upright. “What’s going on?” she asked, all traces of sleep wiped from her eyes.
“I am not yet sure.”
She gripped her puffy coat and leather bag to her chest, as if they could shield her from whatever came.
“You should crouch down and make yourself a small target.”
Fear made her voice squeak as she did as he instructed. “Will they shoot at us?”
Warrian stepped in front of the window. His garala sparked in eager anticipation of battle, answering to the hard pulse of blood running through him. “It is possible.”
“I should have gone home for my gun.”
“I am the only weapon you need,” he said, hoping to reassure her.
“What if we get separated?”
“I will not allow that to happen.”
“What if you get hurt?”
“I will still fight.” He recognized the boxy lines of the empress’ vehicle. Relief washed through him, quieting the garala. “Besides, there is no need for violence right now. It is Talan who approaches.”
She let out a long, relieved breath and rose to her feet, tossing her coat and bag to the floor. The blanket fell, followed closely by the cloak. She stood before him, nearly naked from the waist up.
“Where is my shirt?” she asked, rifling through the fabric puddled on the floor.
Talan had exited the vehicle and was swiftly approaching the house. Warrian rushed to the empress, digging inside the folds of the cloak to find her shirt. He’d just pulled it free and held it in front of her when Talan stepped through the door.
He came to a dead stop, shock plain on his face.
“Shut the door,” ordered the empress. “You’re letting in the cold.”
Talan hesitated momen
tarily, as if unsure of which side of the door he should be on when it closed.
“Stay,” said Warrian, hoping the other man’s presence would keep him from crossing boundaries, even in his thoughts.
Talan shut the door, averting his eyes.
“For heaven’s sake,” snapped the empress. “Are all of you guys such prudes?”
“I enjoy a half-naked woman as much as any other man,” said Talan, “but your half-nakedness is the kind of thing that gets men executed. So, not sexy.”
She jerked the shirt from Warrian’s fingers and turned away as she dressed. The sleek lines of her back disappeared beneath the garment, giving him no reason to continue staring. Still, for some reason, he kept watching her as she buttoned up and stuffed the bottom of the shirt into her skirt.
The sleeve he’d cut away fell open, draping to reveal her shoulder and arm. Gone were all signs of the effect the garala had had on her. There were no more looks of longing or heated glances. No more eager touches. The empress was once again herself.
Warrian tried to be comforted by that knowledge. Instead, all he could think about was how he’d missed his one opportunity to find out how she would sound locked in the throes of pleasure.
He shoved that thought from his mind and fetched the cloak. He held it out for her as she faced him again, being careful not to show any signs of regret on his face.
“Right. My smell.” She rolled her eyes, but put it on and sat down. “Okay. The two of you are going to tell me everything, starting from the beginning. Got it?”
Warrian stifled a groan. This was exactly what he’d hoped to avoid. Questions, talking… it was all going to create problems.
“What does Your Imperial Majyr want to know?” asked Talan.
She rubbed her temples in frustration. The folds of his cloak covered her hands, but even so, Warrian could see them tremble.
“My name is Isa. Both of you stop with the empress, imperial crap, or I’m going to kick you in the balls just like I did that Dregorg.”
Both men bowed their heads in obeisance.
Warrian wasn’t sure what balls were, but he had his suspicions, and he was certain he didn’t want them kicked by the empress or anyone else.
“Now. Start at the beginning,” she ordered, perching on the edge of the couch as regally as if it had been a throne.
Warrian glanced at the proximity alarms, willing them to blink. All he needed was one single Dregorg to attack so that he didn’t have to stand here, giving answers that he wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear. Those things were better left to the council—to those who spent more time thinking than acting. But as time flowed by in silence, it became obvious that he was going to have to give in to the empress’s demands. He only hoped that the answers he gave didn’t send her fleeing.
What waited for her on Loriah was far more frightening than anything she’d seen before, and he feared that if she learned this, she would no longer agree to come home with him willingly.
Of course, willingly or not, he would ensure that she went home. Her people were dying, and no one else could save them but her.
Chapter Six
If Isa didn’t get some answers, she was going to scream.
Frustration ground through her, wearing away every last bit of patience she might have once possessed. Part of that was sexual frustration. For a while there, she’d wanted Warrian. Badly. She’d wanted raw, animalistic sex with no strings or emotions. Which was not at all like her.
Isa didn’t throw herself at men. She didn’t have dark, naughty thoughts about big, hard men tossing her on the floor and doing nasty, lovely things to her. She was more evolved than that. Sex with her was more about minds than bodies. The lovers she’d had were always cerebral men who lavished her with attention, spending months getting to know her before she let them get under her skirt. Eventually, she’d slept with each of them because it was time, not because she’d been aching for their bodies.
She hadn’t even known Warrian a full day, and already her head was filled with ideas about the things she wanted to do to him—things she wanted him to do to her. She didn’t know his last name, but she knew that if she pressed her nose right under his left ear, his stomach would tighten like he’d taken a punch. She knew that if she got him to look her in the eye long enough, she’d start seeing those sparklers in his slate blue irises. She knew if she licked the seam of his lips, his hands would close into tight fists, and that if she ever convinced him to kiss her back, he’d taste like new snow and mulled cider.
That alone was more physical knowledge than she had about all her previous lovers combined. Something about Warrian had woken up a part of her that had been dormant. Maybe it was that garala he’d used on her, but she doubted that was all of it. The attraction she’d felt for him had been magnified then, but that’s not when it had started. She no longer felt drunk on him, and yet a slow, simmering need burned just beneath her skin, frustrating her with her inability to quench it.
If he wasn’t going to give her sex, the least he could give her was answers. “My first question is who are you?”
Warrian stood at attention. “I am a warrior of House Loriah, sent here to bring home Your Imperial Majyr.”
Talan’s arms were crossed over his chest. “And I’m here searching for those from House Imon, the same way Radek is here for the children from House Soric.”
Those answers left only more questions swirling in her mind. “Where exactly are you from?”
“Loriah,” said Warrian. “Our world.”
“As in not this world?”
“Correct. You were born on Loriah and sent here as a child to protect you.”
Whoa. Okay. That was more news than she felt equipped to handle, but she sensed no lie. Which left her with little choice but to accept his words as true, and try to build some kind of framework to help them make sense. “Protect me from what?”
Warrian’s gaze slid to the wall behind her.
Talan glanced at him, then spoke. “After the initial invasion by the Raide, many children were sent here to protect them.”
“What is the Raide?”
“Alien invaders. They move from world to world collecting resources and enslaving entire populations. They use those resources and slaves to conquer the next world and so on.”
Talan said it casually, as if it wasn’t the kind of disgusting notion that would leave someone like Isa choking on bile. “And these invaders have hit your world?”
“Our world,” said Warrian. “You were born there too.”
“I don’t exactly remember that, so forgive me if it takes me a minute to adjust to the idea that I’m a freaking alien.”
Isa collapsed onto the couch in a barely-controlled fall. Her world tilted under her feet, leaving everything slightly off balance. Especially her.
“And these kids you sent away,” she said, her voice quivering “I was one of them?”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majyr.”
She kept waiting for the metallic tang of a lie to hit her tongue, but none came. “I’m some kind of bigwig on this other world, even though I’ve never heard of it?”
Warrian frowned in confusion, leaving Talan to answer. “The biggest wig. You rule the ocean and all the smaller landmasses surrounded by it.”
“Rule? An ocean? How the hell can I rule something I don’t even know exists?”
“Your family has always ruled Loriah,” said Warrian, as if it were some kind of undisputed fact.
“I thought Loriah was a planet.”
“It is.”
“And it’s also an ocean?” she asked.
“Our world is mostly sea, so we named it appropriately,” said Warrian.
Talan nodded. “We find it strange that the humans would name their planet for the land since there’s so little of it.”
Isa had never thought about it. She wished she’d never had to think about it. All she wanted was for things to go back to normal. “So you’re here to take me t
o a home I don’t even know? Without even asking if I wanted to go?”
Warrian shifted uncomfortably. “Why would you not want to go back to where you belong?”
“I don’t know,” she said, letting her irritation come through loud and clear. “Maybe because I like it here. Maybe because I have a job and a home and friends here. Maybe because a girl likes to be asked before she’s forcibly removed from her freaking planet. Take your pick. They’re all valid options.”
“But we need you,” said Talan. “The Raide bring more troops through the window every time it opens. You have to go back.”
“First: no, I don’t. Second: if you need me so bad, then why wait so long to come back for me?”
“The war isn’t over. It wasn’t safe.”
“But it’s safe now?” she asked.
Warrian’s jaw clenched shut in silence.
The chains in Talan’s ear shimmered as he shook his inked head. “Not even close.”
“Then why come now, if it’s still not safe?”
“We no longer have the luxury of choice,” said Warrian, his tone as hard and cold as the fury glinting in his eyes. “Time is running short. Those who held House Loriah in your absence are gone. You must come home and perform your duty before the Raide claim our world for their own.”
Isa’s legs went numb. She saw black doom speeding toward her. Even though she wasn’t sure exactly what Warrian had meant by her performing her duty, she had a good enough idea to be scared as hell. “What, precisely, is it you want from me? How in the world am I supposed to help?”
“We need your essence,” said Warrian, as if it explained everything.
“My… essence? What the hell does that mean?”
Warrian looked at Talan. “You’ve been here longer. You understand their language better. What do they call it here?”
Talan frowned and pulled out a small, flat disk. It was made of a brilliant copper metal, inlaid with what looked like hundreds of tiny, intricate metal pieces similar to those dangling from the chains in his ear.
He ran his finger over the surface in what appeared to be a specific pattern.
“Genetics,” he said. “We need you because of your genetics.”
