The Warlord

by Gena Showalter

  He waited at the edge of his seat, his heartbeat quickening.

  The doors parted at last, the harpy-snake strolling into the dining room, her head high, her shoulders squared. The moment her gaze found his, she paused. He drank her in—in gulps. Gone was the traditional war garb. Two pieces of ice-blue material clung to her curves, leaving her midriff bare. The top offered a deep V between her breasts, while the bottom cinched her waist and free-flowed to her ankles in varying lengths.

  She had bathed, her white hair unbraided, the glossy waves like a waterfall, framing her exquisite face. The viper had added thicker slashes of kohl around her eyes, making them appear sleepy, as if she’d just roused from bed and desired a lover immediately.

  He didn’t shoot hard as steel this time. He shot harder. All that pale skin...

  Hot before? No. Sweltering, Roc pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

  A deep shade of red stained her lips. Lips she’d slanted over his only an hour ago. Soft lips. Luscious. The kind a man craved wrapped around his—

  Enough!

  As she glided forward, locks of hair swished over her breasts, playing hide-and-seek with her nipples. Nipples puckering beneath the fabric of her top. Did he detect the ridge of a piercing?

  He swiped his hand over his mouth and willed her dress to burn away. Must see.

  Must? The word echoed in his mind, the fork in his hand bending. Nipples were nipples, pierced or not.

  A few feet away, she paused once more to look him over, her cool expression giving nothing away. “Have I earned your respect yet?” Running a fingertip between the valley of those magnificent breasts, she made a little noise of dismay. Definitely pierced. “Or should I strip?”

  She’d asked a question, and Roc had an answer. Yes! She should strip. No! She should change into a gown with chin-to-toe coverage. Which, which? He couldn’t think. He scented her now, the frostberries like a potent wine. Lust hijacked his good sense.

  “Join us as you are,” he said with more force than intended. Seduction so soon? Not likely. What was her purpose? What did she hope to gain with this? Was she wearing panties?

  “By the way,” she purred, a rosy flush burgeoning in her cheeks, “if anyone sees me naked later, mind your business. I’m just wearing my wifely uniform.”

  His men displayed different degrees of amusement.

  Did she feel Roc’s heat despite the distance between them? “Sit,” he said, waving to the chair at his right.

  She didn’t sit. “I should probably apologize for my tardiness, and I will, just as soon as I’m sorry. As your men are proving with their nine-inch salutes, I’m totally worth the wait. Well, he’s giving me ten.” She winked at Silver. “Bravo, sir.”

  Irritation spiked. “You know you aren’t to speak with my men. You know because I told you. Consider this your first and only warning.” Because of her position as his bride, their sense of honor demanded they obey.

  Far from cowed, she resumed her pout. “Is my new hubby the jealous type?”

  Never. “Do you seek to arouse us so we’ll fight over you? Is that what this is about?”

  “Of course not.” She blew him a kiss with a hint of fang. “That’s just a bonus.”

  “Sit,” he demanded.

  Of course, she resisted. “I think I’d rather fill a plate and go. With everyone congregating at the other end of the table, I’ve got to assume you’re terrible company.”

  “When you resist, I will assist. Then I’ll force.” He stemmed a stronger tide of irritation, stood and held out her chair. I won’t reach for her. Won’t shake her...or haul her into my lap. “Don’t pretend to misunderstand the ways of warriors. You fight to become General. A title that will set you apart from those you lead.”

  “Apart, yes. Not above.”

  “Questioning my leadership?” Others had died for less.

  “Wow. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. But just to be clear, yes, I’m questioning your leadership. I’ll definitely do things differently when I’m in charge.” Movements as fluid as water, she eased into the offered chair at last. “Be honest. You beat off to thoughts of me as soon as you left the throne room, didn’t you?”

  Sensitive? “You admit you used an illusion of invisibility to follow me?” Why part with a rare advantage?

  She grinned, smug assurance pulsing from her. “Well, I am part snakeshifter. What did you expect?”

  The woman’s confidence remained unsullied. She truly believed she could best him. Perhaps he should show her the error of her ways.

  She shouldn’t play with a man who is stronger, faster and far more determined.

  Fueled by the irritation—only the irritation—Roc half rose, leaning over the table to grip her by the waist. As he sat back down, he pulled her onto his lap, using his knees to force her legs apart. He shackled her arms behind her back as her wings fluttered against his chest.

  Slits in her dress caused the material to gap, revealing silken skin and a dagger inside its sheath.

  To his consternation—yes, only consternation—she relaxed against him, smashing her wings, as if he’d put her exactly where she’d wanted to be.

  Her game rolled on, whatever it was. Perhaps she merely hoped to drive him mad?

  “Please feel free to correct me if I’m wrong,” she said, “but I do believe I feel my leverage growing.”

  Well, he had his answer. She did indeed hope to drive him mad.

  Roc bit his tongue, tasting blood. As every astonished gaze watched their byplay unabashed, he rumbled straight into her ear, “I told you what happens when you provoke an Astra. Now I’ll show you. Tit for tat. Challenge me in front of my men, and I’ll do the same to you.”

  * * *

  Taliyah cut off a groan as the Astra reached under her skirt and thrust two fingers deep into her core. Alaroc’s incredible scent surrounded her. His heat engulfed her, and the incomparable strength of his body thrilled her.

  You started this. See it through. “This is your idea of punishment, warlord? Or did you decide to seize the first excuse to finger me?” She’d come here planning to act nice and ask questions while he leered at her. The moment she’d spotted his erection, she’d switched gears. Why not poke at his pride until he bragged about his strengths, the realm key and anything else she wished to know?

  He didn’t stand a chance.

  As he slowly plunged those fingers in and out, he nearly wrenched another groan out of her. “What do you think you’re doing, flirting with me, harpy? I want to hear you admit it.”

  “I’m tricking you into a public fondling. Obviously.” Oh, how she hated her breathlessness. “By the way, it took me thirty seconds. Are you embarrassed?”

  He growled and nipped her earlobe. “What are you doing?” he insisted.

  “I’m proving you not so secretly desire me and showcasing my ability to make you do my bidding. What else?”

  Low and gruff, he asked, “Do you truly believe anyone can force me to do something I don’t want to do?”

  “I do. Very easily.” Arching her back, she gifted him with a better look down the deep V of her dress. “I just have to make you want to say yes more than you want to say no.”

  Leaning into her, letting his thick beard stubble abrade her cheek, he stroked her clitoris. “Why don’t I prove how much you not so secretly desire me?”

  A gasp left her, her pleasure undeniable. Control!

  When rational thought resumed, she gave a husky laugh. “If no one can force you, you want to finger me.”

  “Would you complain if I stopped?” His next exhalation tickled her skin, rousing goose bumps. “Why don’t I make you scream your surrender?”

  “Please do,” she rasped. “I’m not shy, coy or modest. Maybe I’ll like getting off in front of our audience.”

  “I think you’
ll like getting off, period.” Again, he ran her earlobe through his teeth. “Feel how wet you are for me.”

  Smug warlord. She should respond. She shouldn’t continue staring at the arm pressed against her belly, marveling as soft, golden light illuminated his tattoos. He was so much darker than her, so much bigger, and the contrasts proved hypnotic.

  Whoa! Hypnotic? Had she lost her freaking mind? She must have. Like a fool, she rolled her hips, greeting his next inward plunge. Convince him to stop that. Never stop that. Argh! The ache!

  “If you’re giving free orgasms, I’m placing an order for two. Make me come right now. Prove you can.” He would fail, and she would gloat. He should know by now—Taliyah refused to break. “I’m sure your men will enjoy the show. Maybe they’ll do me a solid and record it. I think I’ll enjoy watching it later.”

  One warlord pulled at his collar and another shifted in his seat, as if uncomfortable. The third grinned and glared. But none looked away.

  Alaroc’s inhalations grew more labored. But so did hers. Soon, they were panting. Did he halt those wicked strokes between her legs? No. Her aches intensified.

  Finally, he demanded, “Have you no shame?”

  “Why? Are you hoping to give me some of yours?” She wouldn’t moan. She wouldn’t! I. Will. Not. Break. Upping the stakes, she reached up to cup her breasts. “I noticed you looking at these. Do you want to see them? Or do you prefer sensation to sight? Go ahead. Cup and knead them. I want you to...”

  Would he do it? Come on, Astra. Cave.

  He gave her clit a firm press, and unrivaled pleasure shot through her. Hot shivers cascaded down her spine, her hips arching of their own accord, seeking more of him without permission from her mind.

  Growing desperate, she asked, “Do you think your men are lusting after the Commander’s wife?”

  He must have made a face at the others, because they looked away from her in unison.

  Another chuckle left her, huskier than before. “Jealous Astra.”

  “Tell me why you’re pushing for this,” Alaroc demanded. Did he project more strain? “What do you hope to accomplish, exactly?”

  “Besides a happy ending, you mean?” Taliyah lifted just enough to flutter her wings. A boost of strength allowed her to maneuver his hand out from under her skirt and spin.

  Time to take this up a notch.

  She straddled him, grinding her sex against his. The sudden pressure shocked a groan from both of them.

  Had she just made a huge mistake? She wanted to rub against him. She needed to rub against him. Remaining immobile required every ounce of her willpower.

  “There. Isn’t that better?” Excellent. She’d sounded teasing rather than needy. She gifted him with another wicked smile. “Now we can come together.”

  He knew what she knew. Either he did as he’d threatened, suffering the consequences right along with her, or he retreated yet again.

  “Feels so good,” she breathed, rocking against him.

  He stared at her with those blazing irises, as intense and motionless as a predator about to strike. What would he do next?

  What did she want him to do?

  His heat tempted and lured. His intensity delighted. Finally, he moved again. Gaze steady, he gripped her hips and urged her into a steady grind. She gasped, struggling to remember why she must resist him.

  “You are—” He shifted, grinding on her right back. “You...”

  Just as she softened, he gave another growl, lifted her and put her back in her chair.

  Disappointment blended with satisfaction, the combination sparking anger. She’d won another round. She should celebrate. And she would, as soon as she stopped aching.

  He slammed his palm on the table, rattling the dishes. Dark red liquid splashed from the rim of his cup, but he didn’t seem to notice as his gaze revisited her.

  “Such a drama queen.” Taliyah tsked, feigning irritation.

  He pursed his lips. “I’m not—”

  “You are.” She donned a disapproving expression. “You’re a tease, too. Sorry to tell you this, but no one likes a tease.”

  “Are you sure?” He lifted his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers. The two wet with her essence. “I think you liked it very much.”

  Sexy, sexy Astra. Did he like the taste of her?

  His eyes hooded. Oh, yes. He liked.

  Taliyah squirmed in her seat, the urge to return to his lap a shocker. In a moment of self-preservation, she concentrated on the food, doing what she’d sworn she wouldn’t: withdrawing from battle. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

  “Now that we’ve established my leverage,” she said, “I want my people released. Today.”

  “You won’t win the war against me, harpy.” His smugness returned, making a mockery of hers. Meaning, he’d noticed. “Your leverage is already disappearing. As I told you, I’ll release the harpies on the thirtieth day, when my enemy can no longer use them against me.”

  Her leverage disappearing? She ground her teeth. “Maybe you’re right about the harpies.” Erebus, warring with the sisterhood again... Yeah, maybe they were better off sleeping. “But you’re wrong about me. I promise you, I’ll find a way to win. I’m already ahead. Your tally is one. Mine is currently five.”

  Leery, he asked, “Five what?”

  “Boner pops.”

  * * *

  The things this woman said! The things she did. Roc had no idea how to proceed with her. Laugh? Curse? Simply enjoy the ride?

  He couldn’t erase the feel of her from his mind, either. And the taste of her...

  Sweeter than honey.

  He bore an attraction to her, and she knew it. She’d decided to simulate a seduction, using his own body against him. Just to force him to surrender to her will.

  Never again.

  Ian, the traitor, failed to contain his laughter. The others sneaked glances at the harpy as if she were some kind of strange creature who’d emerged from a far-off galaxy. Even the cynical Silver.

  Needing a distraction, Roc heaped different kinds of food onto Taliyah’s plate. “Eat, never mention boner pops again, and I’ll answer your questions. I’m sure you have many more.” Maybe, if he kept her eating and relaxed, she would cease smoldering, daring him to grab her again.

  She examined the selection of food and grimaced, but dutifully forked a bite of rice. Which she pretended to eat while dumping the contents in a waiting napkin. Did she think he dosed her food with a sedative, to make her more pliable?

  Roc rolled his eyes, reached out and stabbed something from her plate to prove she could eat without worry. “I will never poison you.”

  “Yes,” she responded, her tone dry, “you prefer to tear your victims to pieces, don’t you?”

  “When necessary.” Where had she stood during this morning’s battle? He’d looked for her.

  “Ugh. Lame response.” She shook her free hand up and down, making a crude motion with her fist before pretending to take another bite of food. “How are you planning to spend the next thirty days while I’m busy killing you? Help me understand what’s on tap.”

  The ability to predict her reactions and responses exceeded his skill set. “I’ll kill phantoms and build an altar.”

  Roc’s chest clenched, and he rubbed the alevala-free spot above his heart. Almost alevala-free. More of the image now stained his skin. Not that Taliyah could see it beneath his shirt. A garment an Astra wore only in the presence of nonthreats. The warlords wanted their enemies to witness what they’d done. To know the being they fought.

  “I’ve heard of phantoms, like I said, but I’ve never combat any,” she admitted with an odd inflection. “You mentioned the leader of them. Rumors claim Erebus Phantom is dead.”

  Did she fear the only living son of Chaos? Roc...didn’t like that. His own bride shouldn’t fear
Erebus and eschew Roc himself.

  This was what he got—what he deserved—for refusing to make Taliyah come in front of everyone. Follow-through mattered.

  “Erebus is their leader, yes. We did kill him, but he revived.” Next time, Roc intended to stone and ash him for good. The only way to truly end a god with his abilities and powers.

  “You guys killed him?” She couldn’t hide a thrum of... What was that? “How?”

  “Tell you so that you may use the information against me? No.”

  She smiled so sweetly, a fox in the guise of a lamb. “So the information can be used against you. Good to know.”

  He pfted a breath.

  “Did you know Erebus terrorized Harpina before I was born?” she asked, shuffling her food around her plate. “His brother Asclepius helped doctor the survivors.”

  “I doubt Asclepius helped your kind. In his quest to create new armies and ascend, he and Erebus worked together to terrorize many femalecentric species.” The brothers liked to dress those females in widow’s weeds to remind the Astra of the bride ceremony. Even after Asclepius’s death, Erebus continued the tradition.

  Taliyah’s gaze flipped up, meeting his. “Did you ever slaughter an army of phantom-harpies?”

  He didn’t hesitate to offer the truth. “My guess is yes, most likely, but I honestly don’t know. I fight, and I kill. With phantoms, you don’t consider any other origin, their old life dead and gone.”

  She thought for a moment. “What do you mean by ascend? You can go higher?”

  “Always. Among the gods, there are myriad ranks and levels of power. To reach a new height, we must toil and fight until it occurs.”

  “Ah. Like the fight for harpy General. As we do all that toiling and fighting, our power grows. We prepare for leadership.”

  “Exactly.”

  She returned her attention to her food, mixing, mixing. Why didn’t she eat? “Will Erebus come to Harpina? Will Chaos?”

  “Chaos will attend the final ceremony.” He made no effort to hide his affection for the male. “Erebus and his phantoms, too.” Or his hatred. “But you have nothing to fear from either. I will protect you.”