Captive Bride; Warrior of Her Heart

by Andromeda

"She doesn’t submit to me," Alexander confesses. "And it's starting to annoy me."

  "She's a princess," Titus points out. "Born and bred for battle and to help her people."

  "Not anymore," Alexander remind him. "She's my bed slave; her only purpose now is to spread her legs when I tell her."

  "And does she?" Titus asks.

  "She does...but she's not like Iraia," Alexander says slowly.

  Titus looks to his friend. "You did not just compare that slut to Zenobia."

  Alexander’s lip curve into a wry smile as Titus is right. Iraia and Zenobia should never be compared in the same sentence. They are very different though now that he thinks about it. All he has to do is call Iraia and she willingly comes to my bed. With Zenobia, he can see that it's a fight inside her, like she's considering whether to obey or slit his throat. The only reason she hasn't done the latter is because she wants to meet with the Ambassadors from the Far Lands.

  However, for some reason, every time he thinks about that time, it makes him angry that she'll be leaving. But then he remembers why should he care? What they have isn't permanent at all. He wonders if she'll marry after this, but his blood boils at the thought of another man touching her, experiencing the pleasure between her thighs.

  "You know what you need, my friend?" Titus says, interrupting Alexander from his thoughts.

  "What?" he asks.

  "A hunt! We should go hunting."

  Alexander thinks on it, and then nods. "That sounds like a good idea."

  "Maybe it will make Zenobia loosen up to you," he says with a smirk. "I mean hunting has to be a big part of her culture."

  "I wouldn't know," Alexander says with a shrug.

  Titus’s eyes widen. "Have you even talked to her? She isn't a Spartan, Alex."

  "I don't care about her feelings," Alexander growls at him. "Nor do I care about her culture."

  Titus shrugs and picks back up his sword. "Fine then, but I swear to you if you do, she'll open up more to you."

  Later that night in the feast hall, Alexander sits back on his throne, watching the dancers dance. Their near-naked bodies swaying in time of the music, but he doesn’t have eyes for them. His eyes follow Her. Zenobia carries platters of food from table to table; her eyes lowered, but he can see a fire behind them.

  He raises his goblet and she walks over, leaning over to pour it. Her scent assaults his nose and he feels himself harden. Grabbing her arm, he pulls her down to whisper in her ear. "I'm taking you to my bed after this."

  "Like I'd expect anything else," is her sharp reply before she moves to another person.

  Alexander grits his teeth. Why won't she submit to me? He wonders to himself. Why can't she see things my way? Things would be easier for her if she did!

  "My king," a familiar voice says at his right.

  Turning, he sees a man watching him and mentally groans. Eridian. A general in the army, he has been plotting against Alexander almost as soon as he came to the throne. And he’s also Alexander’s uncle. Really his half-uncle; he is a bastard by Alexander’s grandfather. Eridian only rose to the rank of General because his father was a generous man. All more the fool he was in Alexander’s opinion.

  "Uncle," Alexander says, trying to be civil.

  "I hear you are going on a hunt soon," Eridian says. "I would like to come."

  Alexander tries to not roll his eyes. This could be another assassination attempt on his life, but if he refuses, then he’ll seem rude. "Alright," he says, forcing a smile.

  "Wonderful," Eridian says smiling. "I can't wait. I'll go pack now."

  Getting up from the table, he strides to the doors, but then stops to talk to Zenobia. Alexander’s fury mounts as he talks in earnest with her...and even reaches over to stroke her bare arm. He sees her stiffen, but not pull away. When he leaves, Alexander rises from his throne, stalking over to her and grabbing her arm. Not caring about people watching, he pulls her to his rooms and bolts the door before turning on her in a fury.

  "What the hell was that!?" he roars at her.

  "What was what?" she asks.

  "Don't play innocent with me," he hisses. "That! With Eridian! The man who you were talking to!"

  Zenobia’s face twists up in anger and she grits her teeth. "Oh...that man. He asked me some...interesting questions."

  "Such as?" Alexander demands.

  "My duties in the palace, my relationship with you, and if you'd mind…sharing."

  "And what did you say?"

  Her eyes grow cold as she glares at him. "I told him I was your whore, no, you don't like sharing and that's all!"

  Alexander can feel his heart begin to break at her words, at her state of distress. He wants to go over and comfort her, but then he steels himself against it. He will not be weak; he will not show any kind of feeling for this girl past lust.

  "Take off your clothes," he commands her. "I have energy that needs releasing."

  Zenobia looks at him, and Alexander can see it again, the anger and the mental fight: obey or not obey. But then he sees her logical side win out over her pride and she begins to do as commanded in removing her clothes.

  *************

  Alexander tosses Zenobia onto the bed, rolling her onto her stomach and presses her down. His hands slide down her body, parting her legs as he grasps himself to slide into her as he kisses her neck. A smirk curls his lips as he hears her softly moan when he fills her to the hilt.

  “You are just a woman,” he whispers huskily, slamming his hips into her. “Nothing more than a woman…you cannot resist me.”

  Zenobia bites her tongue, trying to stop the moans that are threatening to escape her mouth with ever deep, firm stroke. His large hands slide up, cupping her breasts and massaging them; then, he shifts himself. Putting her legs over his shoulders, he thrusts into her hard and deep, holding her hips to pull her down with him.

  Sweat drips from his brow, the bed shaking from his hard thrusts. Seeing her with Eridian has awoken his inner beast. His body is telling him to mark her, to claim her again and again as his own.

  "You are mine," he murmurs almost in a trance. "You are mine and no one else's..."

  Zenobia throws her head back, screaming in release. Alexander’s own head rolls as he groans, emptying his seeds into her; claiming her once again. Falling on top of her, they pant heavily, looking at each other, sweat dripping from their bodies.

  Looking at her, Alexander has a thought. A king and a princess; her kingdom for his bed. So far she has done everything that he has told her, maybe he should loosen up on her just a bit. "Tomorrow I'm going on a hunt," he pants. "And if you do not try to run away...I'll reward you."

  "And what kind of reward is it?" she asks.

  "You'll like it, I promise," he says. "But promise me that you won't try to run away."

  "I promise," Zenobia swears. Alexander looks at her questioningly a moment, but she holds up her chin. "I'm a princess," she says firmly. "My word is my bond."

  Alexander searches her eyes for any signs of dishonesty and lying, but he sees none; she really is telling the truth. "Good," he says with a sly grin. "Because tonight I plan on proving to you who you really belong to."

  He reaches for her again and within moments, he is inside her, thrusting powerfully. The next morning, he swings himself on top of his horse, looking down at her, gives her a nod and then begins to trot away.

  Zenobia watches him leave, and as much as she wants to use this opportunity to escape, she will keep her promise. As she walks back into the palace, she sighs, running her hand slowly through her hair. I have to keep my word, she tells herself. I have to keep my word…

  *************

  Chapter Seven

  "Ahh! No, don't do that!" Adria screams.

  Zenobia giggles as she throws flour at her friend, who screams and runs as if it's the plague. The two women are supposed to be making cakes for the feast when the hunting party comes back tomorrow evening. With Alexander gone these last couple of
days, Zenobia has found a way to make herself useful that isn’t just her laying on her back. She loves to cook, though some Princesses wouldn’t claim such a thing, cooking is a basic skill that everyone should have one way or another.

  "It's just flour!" she laughs at Adria.

  "It's in my hair!" Adria cries, trying to dust it out. "You're terrible!" she whimpers.

  "But you know you're my friend," Zenobia says with a wink.

  Adria rolls her eyes and gets back to work. A couple minutes later into their work, a woman sweeps in, looking around. Dressed in a green and gold-trimmed dress that leaves little to the imagination, her hair is the color of gold, her eyes the sky.

  "Who is that?" Zenobia whispers to Adria.

  Adria looks up and her face falls. "Quickly look away! Don't let her see you!"

  But it’s too late. The woman's eyes roam over the servants and when she sees Zenobia, they narrow like a lioness stalking her prey. "You," she growls.

  Zenobia looks around and then back to her in surprise. "I'm sorry?"

  "You are the slut that's kept Alexander from calling me back to his bed for almost three months!" the woman shrieks.

  Zenobia raises an eyebrow. "I have no idea who you are."

  "He's mine!" the woman cries, stomping over and leaning close to Zenobia. "Always has and always will be. You're just a cheap slut who he fancies for now."

  "That's a lot coming from you, Iraia," a voice says behind them.

  All three women turn in the direction of the voice and see a woman dressed in all red leather. It contracts greatly with her creamy skin, hair the color of wheat and eyes the color of sapphires.

  "L... Lady Anthea," the woman, Iraia, stammers, dipping her head.

  "And that's no way to talk to a princess," the woman says. "Go back to where you belong."

  Iraia runs as if a demon was on her heels, not even looking to Zenobia.

  The woman in red then turns her attention to Zenobia. "Forgive her,” she says “She doesn't know her place."

  "It's alright, My Lady," Zenobia says. Her aura screams warrior, and she can see a fire in her eyes that is similar to her own. Thus, Zenobia knows she can respect her.

  "Please," the woman says holding up her hand. "You are higher rank than I. I should be bowing to you."

  "Not anymore," Zenobia murmur.

  The woman smiles and walks over. "Yes, about that...I've come to fix that."

  Zenobia looks up. "I'm sorry? How do you plan to do that?”

  "I, my dear Princess Zenobia, am going to kidnap you."

  *************

  Zenobia looks at the woman, Anthea, in shock. "C... Can you repeat that, please?"

  "I'm going to kidnap you," she says. "Right now. Now if you don't mind, I'm kind of in a time crunch."

  "W... Why?" Zenobia stammers.

  "Because I'm Spartan and I take what I want,” Anthea says with a shrug. “And I want you."

  "B... But I can't...Master Alexander…” Zenobia tries to say, but is cut off by Anthea.

  She throws back her head with laughter. "Do you really think that I care what that ass thinks? I'm taking you now and whether you come willingly or not, the choice is yours."

  Her words strike a chord within Zenobia. Those are the same words that he said when he gave her the choice: be his personal whore or be a broke princess. Zenobia looks at her critically. “What's your angle?"

  "I don't have any angle," Anthea says with a shrug. "But I do know one thing, Alex is wrong in what he's done and I want to fix it."

  Zenobia looks to Adria, who is frozen in shock and surprise; she has a choice. She promised Alexander that she wouldn’t leave, but looking into Anthea’s eyes, she can see that she isn’t really giving her a choice. Not just that, but she is a slave, and she can’t really disobey an order…Lifting her head, she nods, "Fine, let's go."

  Smirking, Anthea grabs Zenobia’s arm. "Oh, and you there, girl. Adria, was it? When Alex returns, be sure to tell him where the princess is. Understood?"

  Adria nods furiously and watches as Anthea pulls Zenobia out of the kitchens and to the stables.

  "Can you ride a horse?" Anthea asks. Zenobia nods and she points to a fiery grey coated female. "Take that one."

  Zenobia holds her hand out to the mare and she sniffs it before calming down. Watching as Anthea straps her saddle on, she copies her before swinging up herself. Kicking the mare's sides, they thunder out of the palace and down the streets. Looking behind them a moment, she is surprised that no one followed them. This Lady Anthea must have a great influence here, she thinks. "Where are we going?" she shouts aloud.

  "My villa!" Anthea shouts back. "Your new home."

  The villa is large, not as big as the palace, but large nonetheless. Dismounting in the stables, Anthea leads Zenobia to her chambers.

  "You'll be living here," she says, as Zenobia explores her new surroundings.

  "For how long?" Zenobia asks.

  Anthea looks to her. “Unless either: one, I decide otherwise; or two, Alex kills me. The latter is highly unlikely seeing as I always beat him in sparing," she adds with a smirk.

  "What do you want with me? And what will I be doing while I'm here?" Zenobia asks.

  "You'll be my Maidservant," Anthea says simply.

  Zenobia’s shoulders slump slightly. "So…I'm still a slave."

  "In a way, yes," Anthea says. "But my Maidservants aren't weak little fools. My Maidservants are warriors; they are sort of like a mini-army that I have."

  "How many do you have?" Zenobia asks, greatly interested.

  "About twenty, and each one is a warrior to her core. We're so good that the official army calls us their Amazons."

  "And you want me to join?"

  "No, you want to join," she corrects her.

  "And why do I want to do that?" Zenobia asks.

  "You'll gain your freedom."

  Zenobia’s heart seems to freeze in her chest. "H... How?"

  "In Sparta, we have rules,” Anthea explains. “Rules that Alex has clearly forgotten in his selfish lust. One such rule is that everyone has a purpose. From the lowest slave to even the king himself and we decide it by battle. With every four months, there will be Trials, trials that every warrior-slave wishes to compete in."

  "Why?" Zenobia asks.

  "Because if you win those trials, or finish in the top three, then you gain your freedom and a place in the army. And guess whose name I put on that list?" Anthea asks.

  "Mine?"

  Anthea smirks and nods. "It helps having a father who's a Councilman. You have four months to train tanned and then compete. Win first place and you become not only a free woman, but also a Noble. You won't need Alexander to tell you anything anymore. What do you say?"

  Zenobia doesn’t even have to think about it. "When do we begin?"

  *************

  Meanwhile, not far from the palace, Alexander and Titus are having a brotherly argument about who killed the biggest bear.

  "Alright! Alright! You win, Alex," Titus relents.

  Alexander smirks as they watch the servants strap the last of their hunt onto the horses back. "You bet I win, no one can beat me at hunting," he boasts.

  "Except maybe Zenobia..." Titus pushes.

  Alexander rolls his eyes at him, but his mind can’t help but go back to the young woman. Try as he might to focus on the hunt, his mind kept going back to Zenobia. She would appear in his dreams. He would wake up from a dream when he was thrusting hard within her hot folds; hard and sexually frustrated that it was just a dream. He doesn’t know what is wrong with him, no woman has ever held his mind captive so. Hopefully, she kept her word about their agreement and when he gets back; he can unleash all his pent up passion.

  The ride back to the palace isn't a long one, and he bursts in, looking for her, but to his great anger, he doesn’t find her. Roaring with rage, he punches a wall. She promised, he rages in his mind. She promised that she wouldn't run away! Well, I know how to fix
that.

  Barking for his guards, he commands them to meet him in the throne room. His fingers grip the armrests in fury and it's all he can do to keep from yanking it off. "I want you to bring me back the princess!" he barks at them. "Use any force necessary, but I don't want her harmed! Take her to my chambers once you have her!"

  The guards look at each other nervously and Alexander instantly knows something is up.

  "What?" he spits. "Speak, now! I command it!"

  The guards step away and a slave girl walks in, dropping to her knees, she mumbles something too low for anyone to hear.

  "What did you say?" Alexander barks.

  "I... I said my name is Adria," the girl stammers. "A... And Lady Zenobia isn't here..."

  "Then where is she?!" he roars.

  "Lady Anthea took her," she whimpers. "S... She told me to tell you the moment you got back."

  Her words are like a blow to his face and he falls back on his throne. Anthea...of course! It all makes sense now. That bitch...

  Striding from his throne, Alexander barks for Titus, who meets him in the stables. "Alex, what's going on?" his friend asks.

  "Anthea took something of mine," Alexander growls. "And we are going to get it back."

  The two men ride to the villa, Alexander’s fury driving him on. He’s always admired Anthea's villa. While not as big as the palace, it has lots of space for her and the twenty other women who live with her: her 'Amazons'. Slowly the sun is setting, and he can see the torches beginning to be lit. Anthea would have just settled down for her evening meal. Alexander knows she won't mind him interrupting it.

  "ANTHEA!!!" he roars, bursting into the dining hall.

  Anthea looks up lazily from her couch and Alexander looks about, his heart stopping at the person sitting next to her: Zenobia. Their eyes lock for a second and then he charges, grabbing her arm and pulling her against him. "You promised," he growls.

  "Alex, let her go!" Anthea barks. "Kila!"

  A golden-haired woman runs over to them; she grabs Alexander’s wrist and twists it painfully to the side, forcing him to let Zenobia go. The women pull her away and soon disappear, leaving Anthea and he alone.

  Alexander glares at her. "Give her to me."