Red Sands: Warlords of Atera

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Red Sands: Warlords of Atera Page 15

by Kyle, Celia


  “I am owed the Right of Ka’Eana.”

  She kept her attention on the warrior, waiting for more of an explanation. When the alien remained silent, she spoke up. “And? What does that have to do with me? I don’t even know what that is.”

  The warrior twisted his mouth in a sneer. “My honor has been tainted. Drazan owes me a blood duel.”

  That still didn’t give her all she needed to understand him, but the words “blood duel” sent a shiver down her spine. She took a step back, putting more distance between her and the stranger.

  “Leave me alone.” She may have retreated a little, but she still stood tall. “Whatever business there is between you and Drazan is for the two of you to settle.”

  The warrior grinned, showing his pointed teeth. “It does concern you, creature from another world. When I defeat Drazan, all that is his will become mine. His position as warlord, and,” malicious glee entered the warrior’s gaze, “all of his possessions.”

  Sheri’s heartrate picked up, easily doubling with those few words, and she struggled against the drive to run in the opposite direction. “I’m no one’s possession.”

  The warrior chuckled, the rhythmic, barking hiss grating her nerves. “You are a stranger to our ways, kode to Drazan. When you are mine, you will learn. You will be extremely well educated in all things.” His attention roamed Sheri’s body and she suddenly wished she hadn’t borrowed clothing that was so skimpy and sheer.

  The warrior at her back stepped around her, joining the one who kept the stranger from coming near. Hand already gripping the pommel of his sword, he slowly withdrew the sharpened metal from its scabbard. If she didn’t put a stop to this, it’d get bloody and that was the last thing she wanted.

  “Leave me alone,” Sheri glared at the male. “I don’t care about your argument with Drazan. I don’t want anything to do with this. It doesn’t involve me.”

  She moved to the right, warriors remaining between her and the stranger. She turned as she moved, the warrior remaining within her line of sight. She refused to turn her back on him. He seemed like the kind of person—er, alien—to attack when someone’s back was turned. She got a few steps down the street before the warrior burst into a flurry of motion.

  He knocked both warriors aside as if they were mere children and Sheri let loose a scream—one she couldn’t have suppressed had she tried. She backed away, the male following her every step until she was pinned against a nearby building. The warrior didn’t lay a claw on her, but he leaned in close, his flattened face mere inches from hers. He placed his hands on the rough wall on either side of her head. She held still as he drew closer, her breathing coming in sharp gasps while she fought for calm that seemed determined to evade her. Her entire body trembled from head to toe and she wished she could be braver in the face of such violence.

  “When you are mine,” he hissed, “you will learn respect. Females do not speak in such a way to a warrior. Soon, I shall—”

  A figure appeared behind him, sharp claws wrapping around the warrior’s arm and hauling him from Sheri. The warrior was shoved away, the male stumbling and barely able to keep his footing. The male whirled to face his attacker and Sheri focused on the newcomer as well. Who had stepped in for her? Who had…

  She released a relieved sigh when she spied Drazan standing close, his sword drawn and poised in front of him.

  “Are you so eager to return to your birth sands, Krunt?” Drazan growled. “Because if you are, I will send you there, here and now.”

  The stranger, Krunt, regained his footing and stood at his full height, staring Drazan down. “You would dishonor yourself in such a way, Drazan? The challenge has been issued. The Right of Ka’Eana is mine. Would you strike me down in the streets like a common thief? The goddess would not give you her favor if you denied me an honorable challenge.”

  Drazan ground his teeth. He stayed near Sheri, but his eyes never left Krunt. “You dishonor yourself, Krunt. You have no right to my kode. You will not speak to her again.”

  “Until she is mine.” Krunt smirked and Drazan snarled in response.

  Krunt turned away but not before flashing her a smug smile. He stalked through the city streets, leaving her an emotional mess. Once Krunt was out of sight, Drazan sheathed his sword and turned to Sheri.

  The anger on his face faded, replaced with one of ultimate concern and worry. “Are you well, my kode?”

  Drazan reached for her, but she slapped his hand away. “What the hell? Who was that? What’s this Right of Ka-something or other? And how…?” She lowered her voice, glancing from side to side to make sure no one was near enough to hear her. “How can he say he’d claim me if he… if he beat you? It doesn’t work like that, does it? I mean, the whole kode thing is supposed to be a one-time event. You and me and that’s it.”

  She didn’t understand half of what unfolded but that last question concerned her most. Krunt claimed he’d take her from Drazan if he won some weird “blood duel.” That did not jive with the information she’d been given.

  Drazan curled his thin lip and his brows lowered. He took Sheri’s arm, leading her toward the stronghold. The other warriors fell into step behind them.

  “The Right of Ka’Eana,” Drazan spoke first, “is a duel of honor. A challenge for leadership of the Red Sands. Should Krunt defeat me—which he will not—all that is mine would be his.”

  “Even me?” She surprised herself with her own words. She hadn’t meant for her question to sound like an admission that she belonged to Drazan. But the way she’d said it, she’d certainly sounded like she’d given in on that point.

  “You would not be kode to Krunt.” Drazan kept his voice low. Some passersby watched them, no doubt curious about the confrontation between their leader and another warrior in the middle of the street. “But our custom dictates that the victor in battle claims the property of the defeated. A kode to the defeated warrior is… it is hard to explain.” His face wrinkled and scrunched and she refused to admit that a concentrating lizardman was cute. “A warrior’s kode is not only about mating. Though that is part of it. It is a warrior’s duty to care for his kode. To provide for her, give her shelter, bring her food, to work and earn all that she needs.”

  “Great,” Sheri rolled her eyes. “I’m a 1950s housewife.”

  Drazan frowned at her words.

  “Never mind.” She waved a hand, brushing off her words.

  Drazan shook his head and then continued. “Females have no need to work. Their males provide all they require. They care for the household or engage in the creation of art, music, or writings. But should their male perish, they must be adopted into another household. If a warrior falls in battle, his kode will be adopted into the household of his family or his warrior-brothers. She will be as a sister to the kode of the house that adopted her.”

  “So if you die…” she frowned, brow furrowed, and lips tipped down, “one of your brothers would ‘adopt’ me?”

  “Depending on how I die.” He hesitated and she remained silent, demanding he finish without saying a word. “Tradition dictates that should I fall during the Right of Ka’Eana, the one who defeated me is obligated to care for you. Were I to fall to an honorable warrior, he would take you into his household out of a sense of responsibility for your care and well-being. He and his family would care for you as one of their own.”

  “Uh-huh. I don’t get the impression Krunt cares about my well-being,” she drawled.

  Drazan’s expression darkened. “Sometimes a fallen warrior’s kode is claimed as a servant rather than a member of the family.”

  There’s the other shoe dropping that she’d been waiting on. “So, I’d be a slave.”

  Drazan looked away. “It is… complicated.”

  Sheri sighed and stared at the ground, letting the subject drop. She didn’t want to know any more about what this other warrior might do if he “claimed” her. She didn’t think she’d even have any choice in the matter. Though she w
asn’t about to stand aside and let someone dictate her life. It was one thing to be with Drazan. So far he’d treated her well.

  She was damned if she’d be someone else’s slave.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The moment Drazan had Sheri behind the secure walls of the stronghold once more, he led her straight to their quarters. He briefly spoke with his warriors, issuing orders that Krunt was not to be granted entrance for any reason. He did not know if the male would be foolish enough to try to infiltrate the stronghold to assault Sheri, but Drazan would not take that risk.

  In the privacy of their quarters, he turned his attention to Sheri’s needs. She had moved to the furniture his kode called a couch, and sat, bringing her knees to her chest. She remained there, gaze unfocused and expression blank.

  Seeing her so emotionless caused Drazan’s chest to tighten. He was driven by the need to comfort and protect her. He wasn’t sure how to make her feel better—or safe—but he needed to do something.

  He held out a hand to his mate. “Come, my kode. Let me bathe the coarse sands from your skin. You should relax and rest your weary bones.”

  Sheri looked up at him, expression pained. Her face softened and she slowly extended her hand, allowing him to guide her to her feet.

  He led her into the bathing chamber and stripped himself of his weapons and belts, setting them aside. Then he filled the tub with Soothing Sands before stepping into the silken sands. He looked to his kode, sensing and seeing her hesitation as she waited a few feet from the tub.

  “I will not do anything you do not wish,” he assured her. “But if you will allow me, I will bathe you and soothe your muscles.”

  A small smile touched Sheri’s pink lips and she nodded before tugging on her borrowed clothing. He was unable to tear his gaze from her, his body stirring as she exposed more and more of herself. The curves of her soft, pink flesh were more alluring than the hard scales of any Ateran female he had ever encountered. Without the scales to hide her flesh, every inch of her was exposed to his eyes. When she pulled off her top, his gaze was immediately drawn to her breasts—nipples hard and perky in a way that no Ateran female could ever hope. When she removed her bottoms, he spied the small tuft of hair that concealed the heaven between her thighs.

  She took his hand and he guided her into the tub of Soothing Sands. Careful with his human kode, he gently lowered her into the tub, allowing the thick liquid to envelop her.

  She turned away from him, presenting him with her back as she leaned against the edge of the tub. He rubbed the Soothing Sands into her soft, delicate flesh. Focus solely on his kode, he noted when her eyes fluttered closed, the action followed by a soft moan as he continued his massage. He moved his fingers with great care, afraid of scratching her with his claws. She was so much softer and warmer than a female of his kind—skin like silk beneath his callused fingers.

  She relaxed as he continued his massage and he soon picked up the scent of her arousal. Ah, his kode craved his touch as much as he craved hers. But he could not give in to such temptations. Not yet. It was the greatest struggle he had ever faced, greater than battle against a hundred warriors. His cock strained against his mating pouch, hardness extending so far he experienced the sharp pain that came with ripping the pouch open for the first time.

  His hardness brushed against Sheri’s thigh as he knelt behind her in the tub and his kode tensed. She lifted her head and Drazan paused in his massage, fearful his desire had offended her. But a moment later, she laid her head down on her arms once more. She closed her eyes and submitted to his touch. Drazan took her silence for permission and returned to massaging her. Sheri shifted and whimpered, moving beneath him, thighs rubbing back against this mating pouch. He remained still at first, but when she continued, he realized her motions were intentional. She grew warmer as she continued to move, and his blood stirred even hotter. He rubbed his bulge against her, making her moan louder and a mixture of pleasure and pain assaulted him. The seam on his mating pouch threatened to split while the feel of her silken skin on his scales nearly had him crying out with need.

  Sheri gripped the edge of the tub, lips pressed together and face scrunched. Their touching drove him mad with want and need, and he was nearly to the point of breaking tradition and slicing his mating pouch open to release his hard cock. Then he would enter her, take her as his kode and lose himself in her wetness.

  Thank the goddess she moved away before he could dishonor himself in such a way. She sat up and rose to site on the edge of the tub. The Soothing Sands slid off her body in a sensuous cascade that accentuated every curve. She stared at him, gaze filled with desire and wanting, and she licked her lips. That simple action made him want to taste her again.

  “Come here,” she whispered.

  He stood and moved closer, his kode spreading her legs apart at his approach. Her gaze fell to the pulsing hardness between his legs. As the Soothing Sands slid off his scales, she reached down and cupped his need. The simple touch drew a sharp, deep groan from his chest, and he fell forward, digging his claws into the edge of the stone tub.

  “Be mine,” he whispered, gaze not leaving her eyes. “Let us be bonded.”

  “Soon.” Her voice was quiet in return, his kode staring up at him with her tempting, alluring gaze.

  She stroked that part of him, forcing the pressure inside his mating pouch to increase with her every caress. He continued to harden beneath her hand and Sheri’s eyes widened. She licked her lips again, breath catching in her throat.

  She grabbed a nearby cloth and wiped away the last remnants of the Soothing Sands from his hardness. Then she lowered herself into the tub, kneeling before him. She lifted her gaze to his, meeting his stare while her fingers continued to explore his scales. He ran his claws through her hair, relishing the feel of her soft locks sliding between his fingers.

  Drazan’s kode had stated she would be his soon. Perhaps she said the wrong word and meant yes for if she continued to touch his mating pouch in such a way… He would burst free without much more prompting. And once he was free, he would be unable to control himself. He would be driven to mate—to take her over and over again until she was covered in his scent and any who drew near knew she belonged to him and no other.

  Forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  When Sheri had said soon, she hadn’t meant within the next few minutes and yet… with her hand drifting slowly over his mating pouch, she found it harder and harder to resist him any longer.

  Her mind flooded with the memory of his forked tongue against her clit, the way he had brought her the greatest pleasure she’d ever experienced. So much better than her ex. And why wouldn’t he? She already trusted Drazan more than her abusive ex. An alien. Though she didn’t put her full faith in him, she couldn’t deny the way he focused all of his attention on her, bringing her so much comfort and peace.

  If his tongue had created such vibrant and intense pleasure, she couldn’t imagine what would come from being possessed by him fully. In fact, she couldn’t imagine what he looked like beneath his pouch. She wasn’t even sure how to unsheathe that part of him. If she was considering taking this to the next level, she at least needed to know that much.

  “You’re, uh,” she nibbled her lower lip, unsure of how to word her question. “You’re covered down here.”

  “What do you wonder, my kode?” His tone implied both anticipation and need to satisfy her curiosity.

  “How do I get it out?” She wasn’t even sure how to refer to it, and her face burned as if she was a kid first discussing sex.

  His lips tightened in his alien smile. “It?”

  He was teasing her! The annoying male. “Your…” she grumbled. “Human males have a cock. I’m assuming there’s something similar hidden behind here.”

  Drazan’s eyes flared brightly for a moment, the red in them deepening in color, and his tongue snaked out in a rapid flick. “Zokir.” He grunted. “It is called a zokir in my language t
hough I like this human word—cock. When a female is prepared to mate, she uses her claws to release the male from his mating pouch.”

  So matter-of-fact but it still left Sheri in the dark. She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers to draw his attention. “That might be an issue. I’m claw-free.”

  Drazan chuckled, his wheezing, chirping laugh becoming familiar to her. “You may use any sharp object, my kode. Whatever you prefer.”

  She’d prefer not to have to cut him open to get to his dick. “Could you do it yourself?”

  His response was immediate, a hard shake of his head. “I cannot. To split oneself would bring great dishonor. This is an act held sacred between mates. I—a great warrior—must show trust and place myself at the mercy of my mate as she causes me pain. I must prove myself to you, my kode. Release myself…” He shook his head again. “No.”

  Perfect. It appeared that if she wanted to be with Drazan—and she did—she’d have to cut him and release his cock herself.

  “Will it hurt you?” Dumb question. She was going to cut into his flesh. Of course it’d hurt!

  But his next words denied her thoughts. “It will be the greatest pleasure of all my days.”

  The strength in his words, his utmost conviction, had her believing what he said. She knew he was entranced by her and his desire had been made clear many times over. As had his anger when she refused him.

  Sheri paused to consider her options for a moment. She wasn’t sure what taking this step would mean. She was pretty sure that, despite Drazan’s wishes, she couldn’t have hatchlings just because she mated with an Ateran. In which case… what were the consequences? Why couldn’t she fulfill her desires here and now? If she couldn’t get pregnant, was there any harm? She might never leave the planet Atera, which meant her only opportunities to experience pleasure were with Drazan. Being so desperate for release, it was impossible for her to imagine going the rest of her life without further ecstasy at his hands, er, claws.

 

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