Red Sands: Warlords of Atera

by Kyle, Celia

  Sheri’s release continued, taken over by this alien warlord, mastered by the sword-wielding male. He continued to lick and tease her, tasting more and more of her as seconds passed, driving her higher and higher with every touch of his tongue. He didn’t stop until another orgasm washed over her. Then another. His attentions were endless and maddening until she finally reached for him. She grasped his shoulders and tugged, practically sobbing and begging for mercy.

  “Wait…” she cried out. “Stop and wait…”

  Drazan gave her one last lick, those red eyes clashing with her stare once more. “I gave you pleasure.”

  A statement, not a question, but she answered him anyway.

  “Oh god yes.” She reached for his shoulders and pulled up toward her, not stopping until she was able to brush a kiss to the top of his bald head.

  They lay down together on the bed, Drazan’s body curled protectively around hers. Content for the first time since coming to this strange, alien world, Sheri drifted off to sleep in her lover’s arms.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The next morning, Drazan left Sheri asleep in their sleeping chamber while he attended his duties. He left orders with two of his guards that his kode was to be allowed to go as she pleased, but they were to remain by her side while keeping him informed of her movements. He did not wish to restrict her, but he did not want to repeat the previous day’s incident—when he had been unable to locate her. If anything were to happen to his kode… it would mean his death.

  After seeing to the affairs of the stronghold, Drazan grew restless—too much energy with no outlet. He strode to the training grounds, intent on releasing some of his tension. He did not often join the fresh warriors in their training. As the warlord, it was more appropriate for him to train with his elite warriors and in private. It gave the impression he was invincible, that he had no need for training to keep his strength and reflexes sharp. Yet he occasionally enjoyed entering the training grounds and impressing his warriors with a demonstration of his skill.

  Ateran warriors saluted and servants bowed as he passed, and he gave each an acknowledgment in return. His own method of thanking them for their service.

  He strode past the barrier marking the edge of the training grounds and strode to Telu, his paladin training a handful of recruits. He met Telu’s eyes and raised his chin in greeting. The other male tipped his head in response while shooting him a questioning frown. Telu knew as well as any other that Drazan rarely made an appearance.

  “Telu,” Drazan strode past the recruits. “How is training this morning?”

  Telu snorted. “I do not have any of the Red Sands on my field this morning, Warlord. A bunch of sand rats crept into the stronghold and now try to swing a blade. They do not know which end to point at the enemy.”

  Drazan chuckled, tongue flicking out to quickly taste the feelings of the recruits—anger, frustration, determination. The male only used those words to drive the warriors to improve themselves. Each would take it as a matter of pride, intent on showing they could meet their superior’s expectations.

  “Perhaps we should show them how true warriors battle.” Drazan strode to the rack of practice weapons and snared a wooden blade. With a core of metal from the sands to match a true blade’s weight, it felt as if he held his own weapon. He swung it a few times, testing its balance.

  Telu smirked. “As you wish, Warlord.”

  Telu chose a practice blade of his own. He and Drazan moved to the center of the yard and raised their weapons, saluting each other. The recruits formed a loose circle, the low hiss of whispered words acting as a quiet song to accompany the impending, violent dance. No doubt they were eager to see how their warlord performed in battle, even if it was only for training.

  Normally Drazan would bide his time, allowing his opponent to make the first move and test the warrior’s capabilities. That was not to be this day. He struck first, rushing forward with a mighty swing of his blade. He released a fierce battle cry and noted Telu’s surprise at the sudden sound. Telu leaned back and ducked while swinging his blade with a clumsy parry. Drazan’s weapon connected so hard that he nearly flung it from Telu’s grasp.

  Telu stumbled but quickly regained his footing. “You are feral today, Warlord.”

  He sneered and lunged again with a fierce swing. Telu was prepared this time, leaping back and parrying the blow with ease. He smirked at Drazan, amusement plain on his features.

  Drazan regained his footing and raised his blade to a defensive position. He knew his actions were reckless, but he could not stop himself. Perhaps it was his frustration with Sheri and his mating. Last night had been an amazing and intimate experience. He felt as if he had been blessed by the goddess herself when Sheri cried out his name in pleasure.

  But they had not bonded.

  This left him feeling twitchy and anxious. It was difficult to focus and strategize when every inch of him itched with the need to return to his quarters and claim his kode. But he could not. Not until he had her permission. Which left him to do the only thing remaining to him. He took his frustrations out on Telu on the practice field.

  Drazan held back long enough for Telu to become impatient. As soon as his paladin came at him, Drazan charged. He lowered his head and barreled his shoulder into Telu’s gut. He knocked the warrior to the ground, brought his blade up in a high arc, and then slammed it toward the fallen male.

  Telu rolled out of position just in time to save himself. Drazan’s weapon cracked against the hard-packed red sands instead.

  The recruits cheered their excitement and then spoke among themselves about who they thought would be victorious. Then came the wagers. Drazan knew the males would often wager their extra duties in the stronghold with the loser being forced to sharpen the winner’s weapons or clean the winner’s bunk.

  He intended to ensure any who wagered against him would regret that choice.

  Telu leapt to his feet, but Drazan was prepared. He threw out a leg, sweeping it toward Telu’s ankles while the warrior remained unbalanced. Telu stumbled, but rolled with the fall, tumbling across the sand and back to his feet just outside Drazan’s reach.

  Drazan rushed his paladin again. Blades clashed. Spectators cheered. More warriors approached from around the field, putting their own training aside as they watched their warlord spar. Drazan and Telu traded blow after blow, the field overwhelmed with the repeated crack, crack, crack of their wooden blades connecting again and again. Drazan relaxed as they fell deeper into the duel. The adrenaline and focus of the fight tore his mind away from Sheri and his sexual frustration. He grinned, enjoying himself in this show of strength and skill. He found it easier and easier to parry Telu’s blows, with his paladin going on the defensive against his continued onslaught.

  Drazan rained down a fierce blow of his blade against Telu’s shoulder, the younger warrior staggering and losing his balance. Telu stumbled and dropped to a knee, the opening too clear and easy for Drazan to ignore. He raised his blade, ready to strike.

  Something—movement within the crowd—caught his attention before he swung his blade and ended the sparring session. A face in the growing crowd. Normally he would not allow himself to be so distracted, but something about this grated his nerves. A tremor snaked down his spine, alerting him to danger, and he sought the source.

  It took him a moment to discover what had set his nerves on edge. Which was when he spied a familiar face in the crowd.

  Zevot’s warrior-brother—Krunt. He stood at the back of the crowd, hateful gaze on Drazan. While the other warriors cheered and applauded, Krunt remained silent—arms crossed and eyes locked on Drazan.

  Drazan narrowed his eyes. Then a jab of pain jolted through his leg. He yelped and jumped back. While he had been distracted, Telu had regained his footing and scored a blow.

  Drazan growled and returned his attention to the fight. He would not be humiliated in front of the crowd—one filled with both new recruits and seasoned warriors. He ca
lled upon his strength and rained blow after blow upon Telu until the blade was knocked right out of his opponent’s hand. Before Telu could dodge his next movement, Drazan swung a mighty blow that connected with Telu’s chest. A fatal blow had they been using true weapons.

  Telu dropped to his knees and clutched his chest while he struggled to catch his breath. The gathered warriors cheered Drazan’s victory, but Drazan did not let his focus drift to them. He scanned the crowd, gaze searching for Krunt, but the male was nowhere to be seen.

  Drazan scowled, grip on the sword tightening, and he wished he held a real weapon. Something about Krunt’s presence, the look on his face, drove an itch down Drazan’s spine. Where had Krunt gone? Wherever he was, Drazan was sure the male was up to no good.

  “Well fought, Warlord.” Telu climbed to his feet, one hand still pressed to his chest. The male too slow, breathing deeply as he sought to regain his composure. “The recruits are impressed.”

  “Hmmm…” He barely heard his paladin’s words. He still scanned the crowd, searching for some sign of Krunt.

  “Warlord?” Telu stepped closer.

  Drazan brushed the male aside and stalked out of the courtyard, ignoring the others as they offered congratulations and praise. He had one destination in mind—his quarters to check on Sheri. Yet when he arrived, there was no sign of her in their rooms.

  He checked the comm to confirm his warriors had followed his orders. Indeed, one had left a message a short time ago to inform him that Sheri wished to explore the stronghold. The males were with her so there was little reason to believe his kode was in any danger. Despite that, he could not fight the uneasy feeling that consumed him. He left his quarters and searched the stronghold, issuing orders to every warrior he passed, telling them his kode was to be located at once.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sheri woke alone in Drazan’s bed, the warlord already gone from the room. She had no idea how long she’d slept, though for the first time since they’d crashed on the planet, she truly felt refreshed. Maybe because she finally had a proper bed—even if the Ateran mattresses left a lot to be desired. It also helped she was indoors, not subjected to the heat and blazing twin suns. The air inside the stronghold was cool compared to the scorching temperatures and she briefly wondered if the Aterans had something like human air conditioning.

  She rose and went to the bathroom, intent on getting clean—using the strange sandy mud bath. It was a nice sensation on her skin. The course liquid rubbed across her flesh made her think of exfoliating bath gel, leaving her renewed and invigorated.

  She rose from the tub, brushing the coarse liquid-like substance off with a towel, and despite its thickness, it evaporated in moments. She headed back into the bedroom and flicked through Drazan’s closet once more, picking another exotic outfit—made of sheer red and gold fabric. Clothing acquired, she entered the bedroom once more and found a breakfast tray waiting for her—a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar foods spread before her. She didn’t hesitate to eat her fill and then focused on her day, deciding to leave the suite of rooms and check in on the other humans.

  When she stepped outside Drazan’s quarters, she found two Ateran warriors waiting for her, both bowing when she appeared.

  “My lady,” they spoke in unison.

  Sheri smiled. She could get used to being treated like nobility.

  “I’m going to visit my friends.” She didn’t intend to ask for permission either.

  “Of course, my lady,” the guard on her right spoke up.

  All righty then.

  She turned left and strode down the hall, soon realizing that the two warriors fell into step behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the two red-hued Aterans and quirked a single brow. “Did Drazan order you to follow me?”

  “We are your honor guard,” the first warrior spoke. Soon followed by the second.

  “It is our duty to keep you safe.”

  “Uh-huh.” She liked the idea of having protectors while she navigated the strange land, but at the same time, they felt like babysitters, too. She wondered if Drazan had ordered them to spy on her activities.

  She exited the stronghold’s main building and made her way across the yard toward the barracks where the other women were held. Except when she got inside, she only found a handful of women.

  “Where is everyone?”

  One of them spoke above the others.

  “Ahhh.” She shook her head, a smile teasing her lips. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea for any of them to fraternize with the Aterans, especially so soon after their arrival. But she couldn’t blame them. After all, she’d done a bit of fraternizing herself. It wasn’t her business if the others wanted to do the same.

  She asked the rest of the women how they fared in this alien landscape. They had been treated well, they told her. The warriors had been generous with their food, water, and Ateran clothing. A couple complained the outfits were skimpy, but Sheri was thankful for their lightness. Heavy clothes in this heat? Yeah, no thanks. Besides, the Aterans wore little to no clothing, which meant they were lucky to have anything at all.

  Within a few minutes of conversation, she learned that in addition to the women who were off visiting their Ateran “boyfriends,” there were still a few humans who had been receiving attention as well. Those ladies told her they weren’t ready to be alone with the aliens yet.

  “I don’t like the way mine looks at me,” one woman shuddered. “It makes me feel like an object. A piece of property.”

  Sheri understood that feeling, but she’d started to like the way Drazan stared. Yes, he always looked possessive, but he was also passionate, determined, and it seemed, devoted to her.

  “They won’t force you to do anything.” She readily admitted she didn’t sound too convincing to herself. If she understood the alien’s mating practices as well as she believed, it was possible the Aterans wouldn’t be able to control themselves much longer.

  She explained a little of what she knew to the others, leaving out a few of the details that might make them uncomfortable. The fact that the aliens were driven by biology instead of desire calmed a few of the ladies.

  “They really don’t know what they’re doing?” a redhead asked the question. “It’s just… instinct?”

  “To an extent.” She nodded. “But they do still have control of themselves. Think of them like… animals in heat. They’re trying to resist the urges that are embedded in their genes. I think they’ll come around to our way of seeing things, given enough time.”

  One of the others blindly stared at the floor, fingers brushing back and forth across her lips. “Hmmm… I’ll think about that.”

  Answering questions about the aliens’ mating habits opened the floodgates to questions about other things as well. Some wanted to know where the rest of the women from the ship had been taken. Were they okay? Was there any word on a rescue? Sheri could only give them half answers—revealing she didn’t know much at the moment, but she’d find answers. She promised to ask Drazan to help her send a message to the others and check on them. Based on Drazan’s treatment of her, she was fairly confident the women were being well-treated.

  She gave the women all the reassurances she could before leaving to explore the strange alien city she now called home. The warriors remained on her heels the entire time and she struggled to ignore their presence. Instead, she focused on putting one foot in front of the other as she left the stronghold and ventured into the city. She did toss a question over her shoulder, inquiring after a marketplace of any kind, and they led her to a bazaar. There she found stalls filled with Aterans trading goods of some kind or another using a barter system. Most traded foodstuffs or crafted goods made of leather and metal. Some traded tools, weapons, jewelry, and some objects that had purely an artistic value. The appreciation for art brought a smile to her lips. They at least could appreciate the beauty in things—even if their styles were utterly different from anything human or alien she’d ever se
en.

  As she wandered the bustling bazaar, she noticed more and more of the lizard-like aliens staring at her, their red gazes planted firmly on her. Naturally they were probably curious about the alien—in their opinion—in their midst. Many pointed and whispered to each other and she mentally groaned, knowing that rumors about her would fly even faster now that she’d gone out in public. As more and more attention fell on her, her gut twisted and clenched even harder, nausea churning in her stomach. There were a lot of Aterans in the marketplace, and she only had two warriors for protection. Coupled with the fact that she had zero clue about the Ateran system of law and order… Did they even have anything like a police force? Would anyone stop the crowd if they became too agitated and then violent?

  “I’m ready to go back.” She spun in place and faced the warriors. As in, right that second and they needed to get moving since she had zero clue about how to navigate the hard-packed red sand avenues. They all looked the same to her!

  “Of course, my lady.” The duo changed positions, one striding in front of her and one behind as they led her through the streets, returning her to the stronghold.

  The further they moved from the market district, the clearer the roads became. She slowly calmed as the crowds thinned, her sense of claustrophobia leaving her. They were halfway back to the stronghold when a single Ateran—a warrior based on the weapons he carried—stepped into their path. His hulking figure blocked the way forward.

  The guard in front of her placed his claw-tipped hand on the pommel of his sword in clear threat. “Stand aside.”

  The stranger ignored the guard and peered over his shoulder to meet Sheri’s stare. “You are kode to Warlord Drazan.”

  She shifted her weight back and forth, uncomfortable with his attention. She still didn’t like being called kode. Didn’t like the implication that it marked her as Drazan’s property. But in this case, she figured it was best to stick with the claim that she was bonded to Drazan. “Yes.” She squared her shoulders, straightened her spine and raised her chin. “What business is it of yours?”