Unexpected Bride (Warlord Series Book 6)

by Michelle Howard

  “All is as well as expected. Still no new signs of Kuran yet.” Saran lifted his leg over the side of his hapfe and dropped to the ground. They had decided to go for a ride this morning tide before the Council sought to distract Vaan with their repeated complaints for him to move back to Kaban.

  “And the Council. Do they seek to cause trouble?”

  Not enough to voice a complaint. “You have no need to concern yourself yet.”

  Vaan grunted and crossed his wrists over the neck of his mount as he gazed into the distance at the land he called home. “I worry Kuran will bring a time of war back.”

  The admission gave Saran pause. He narrowed his eyes and studied his brother’s form. To all, the Overlord would appear relaxed and without care. Now that he took note, Saran saw the lines of strain bracketing his mouth. The shadows beneath his eyes could be attributed to the youngling and their lack of sleep but mayhap that was not the case.

  “Think you he will attempt another attack on Raasa?”

  Vaan shrugged still not facing Saran. “Who is to tell? Kuran ever was the cunning warrior. I should have looked beyond the face of Dakar and Thenl. The mistake is my own.”

  Saran snorted. “Your instincts are not to be discounted. Since your return from death, you have done all possible for the good of Kaban.”

  At last, Vaan turned his way, eyes serious. “Have I?”

  Shoulders tight at the turn in their talk, Saran said, “None would gainsay your actions. Speak clearly, brother. What thoughts weigh heavy on your mind?”

  “Too many to count, Saran.” Vaan sighed softly, his gaze once again turning toward the main compound. The home he’d built with the strength of his sword and arm. “I wanted to leave the youngling behind. I may have spoken strongly on the matter and Mikayla was not pleased. She does not like to leave them any more.”

  The Su-Su had good reason. “You worry for them. It is to be expected. I give thanks to the Blessed One for sending the Aerilians to see to Arane and Erana’s care. They could have died from the attack.”

  Vaan flinched at the blunt accounting. “I have lost trust in my people. For each warrior who greets me upon my return, I wonder if his sword will soon find a home in my back.”

  Saran stared. Surprise kept him without words until he blurted, “You are the Overlord!”

  Another exhale and Vaan slid from the back of his hapfe. He gave the animal a hearty pat on the long neck and took a few steps forward toward the lip of the overhang. Standing with his arms across his chest, his image reflected one of loneliness and...strength. Saran was reminded why many willingly followed Vaan on faith alone.

  With his strong visage cast in profile, one did not need to see his eyes to know that a Warlord among all others stood before them. His proud carriage bespoke a heritage governed by a line of fearless warriors. The elder son of Teag Galip. Honorable, brave and without hint of softness. Unless one counted a slender woman with piercing green eyes.

  “Kuran could not sway them so easily if I ruled as I should.” Vaan glanced over his shoulder at Saran with a smirk. “Defiling Rolon’s body is the first thing I’ve done in many a cycle to show I am still worthy of their fear and respect. Even then, I had you remove the remains before I arrived with my mate. She weakens me, yes?”

  For all his gruff countenance, this was a side of Vaan Saran never expected to bear witness to. “I need disagree. Mikayla is your greatest strength.”

  Saran walked closer until they stood shoulder to shoulder. He shifted his stance and pointed to the land below and its terrain of grass and trees with the mountains beyond. “Kaban is held in a firm grip by your word alone. It is not brute strength that keeps the people under your reign. They yield to all that is Vaan Galip. What Kuran seeks to do will lose its luster in the face of your unwavering support. Your nature is to be fair unless otherwise provoked. Think you Kuran can call forth the same level of devotion?”

  Dropping his arm to his side, Saran tipped his head up to the sky and pulled on memories which brought with them sharp pain. He would endure it for his brother needed to hear what he had to share. “Our mother, too, was our father’s greatest strength.”

  Vaan stiffened and Saran sensed he had his full attention but he did not lower his head. The bands of lavender and blue among the cloudless day reminded him of his mother’s favorite dress. “When I was a youngling, she spoke of her years with our father. He was...harsh in the beginning. A warrior’s way was all he knew. Fenal, his own father, would have expected no less. But then a simple woman crossed Teag Galip’s path. Ashaya brought light to his darkness and he was enthralled.”

  A smile curved Saran’s mouth as he remembered his mother recounting the tale. “Never did a warrior seek to make a female his bride as quick as Teag Galip did that night. After knowing him all of one day, she agreed.”

  Vaan did not have the benefit of later years to see Ashaya mourn for her eldest son. He did not have to stand by as Saran did when she cried herself to sleep many nights. Saran risked a look toward his brother and met the black stare which was a mirror to his own.

  “I know of this, Saran.”

  There mother had been a strong Kabanian female to be admired. “Then you know when he died, her world faltered. If not for Dakar and his wicked ways, she would have stayed by your side in Kaban despite the pain of missing our father.”

  His uncle had made clear his desire for his dead brother’s bride. Ashaya planned to flee to her sister’s home among a nomad tribe with both her sons. Instead, she left with only Saran and an ache in her heart.

  “Our mother lost her life in an effort to save mine. Never should she have returned.” A muscle ticked in Vaan’s jaw.

  The strain on Ashaya had been great. She would have done anything to save her son’s life.

  Saran gripped his brother’s shoulders tight. “She held no regret for her actions. Do not belittle her sacrifice. Leaving you was a constant source of pain for her but she dared not return for fear Dakar would use trickery to get his way. She married another but ever did her heart beat for our father. He was a better Overlord with her at his side and I dare any to say different. When word spread that the Council sought to lay blame at your feet for the destruction of those villages, she raced to your side. I was away and had no chance to gather warriors.”

  Saran swallowed as grief and guilt for failing their mother threatened to overwhelm. “Mikayla makes you a better Overlord. To care for the people a warrior must have heart. She gives this to you as our mother did for our father. There is no greater gift than to have the love of one who sees you flaws and all.”

  And there in Saran discovered what he longed for. He wanted a woman unafraid of facing him if he erred. One who would make him better. Stronger. Unfortunately, it was not in the nature of a Kabanian woman to go so far against her upbringing and defy a warrior even for the right reasons.

  Vaan’s expression eased. “You are wise, Saran. I thank you for your words.”

  Saran nodded and cleared his throat. “We will cease our womanly talk and speak of other matters.”

  Vaan’s eyes brightened as he laughed. “I challenge you to a race. Last to arrive will clean the stalls.”

  Saran didn’t have a chance to respond as Vaan broke away from his hold and leaped onto his hapfe. The bi-pedal mount pranced on its hind legs and shot off down the way they’d come. Saran hurried to his own hapfe knowing he was going to lose but his heart was light all the same.

  ***

  The night of revelry had gone on long past the time of darkness. Smothering a yawn, Melane stared at the group of Warlords and warriors gathered in the room. Overlord Vaan and Saran stood next to one another listening as a warrior recounted an old battle story. Occasionally laughter accompanied the telling. Saran listened with his head bowed intently, long hair in a bound braid down his back. Muscles shifted and rippled in his arms as he drank from his mug. The half-smile on his lips made her heart skip but she remained firm in her resolve to move on.


  “What thoughts are on your mind, or dare I ask?”

  Melane spun with a startled gasp. “No thoughts, Neera.”

  Her friend’s arched brow curved in doubt as she set a tray on the table Melane leaned against. “It is Warlord Saran who holds your attention, is it not?”

  To protest seemed without merit so Melane held her tongue.

  Neera sighed. “They are a handsome lot.”

  “Yes.”

  A loud burst of laughter from the circle drew her unwilling gaze. Mikayla had joined them. Without glancing down, the Overlord curled an arm around her waist and tugged her close. She nestled into his side, one arm going around his back and the other his front where she rested a palm on his bare chest. Some of the warriors took note of her arrival and the public touch but none spoke to it.

  “I was a fool to think I could keep him,” Neera admitted, her gaze on the couple as well. “Early on I sought to win him back from the Raasa female. During one of his visits I offered him an invitation.”

  Melane controlled her shock at the revelation. “What happened?”

  A small smile played about the beautiful woman’s mouth. “He refused me. Raasa do not become brides. They mate for life and the Overlord has committed to her.”

  There was no way to hide how stunned she was at more visible proof of the strength of the bond Mikayla and Overlord Vaan shared. Neera stepped closer and squeezed Melane’s shoulder. “Trust me when I say you but waste time with dreams of the Galip Warlords. Better to set your sights on one who will commit and treat you as a worthy bride.”

  Truth. Neera only spoke truth but the words struck like daggers piercing her chest. “In this you are right.”

  “You could always smile at Warlord Casin.” Neera nudged her with an elbow.

  Melane’s glance fell on the named Warlord. Close friend to Warlord Saran, he stood off to the side with another she recognized. Warlord Kavan’s cold gaze passed over her and those present as his eyes constantly scanned the room. She shivered. He reminded her much of Warlord Argan and she had no desire to ever confront him.

  As Casin spoke to Kavan, it was easy to see both men kept themselves in good shape. The gazes of the women in the room lingered on the sleek arms and the full curve of tight buttocks in their black leather pants. It was good to live among warriors who kept fit but some were more handsome than others.

  “Warlord Casin is appealing,” she admitted. He was closer to her age than Saran, firm of body and his honor was never in doubt.

  Former bed partners spoke of his nature in bed play and claimed he made it quick and painless. Sometimes they said he was almost...gentle. Too often a Kabanian woman found herself abused or roughly handled. Considering Melane’s only experience came from Saran, she wanted another warrior who would be as kind to her.

  “We will go and speak with him.” Neera pulled on her arm, leaving Melane little choice but to follow or draw eyes in their direction.

  Warlord Kavan stiffened at their approach but Warlord Casin stared, interest lighting his brown gaze when it landed on them.

  With no lack of confidence, Neera tipped her head. “Greetings, Warlords.”

  “Neera,” Casin inclined his head. “Melane.”

  Kavan offered an abrupt bow. “Excuse me.”

  He strode off toward the circle with Saran and Vaan. Melane flinched at the rude departure but Neera huffed, her eyes following the path he took.

  “Did you have need of something, Melane?”

  Casin’s question brought Melane’s attention back to him. Her cheeks burned at his look. She recognized the signs of a warrior who wished to receive or offer an invitation.

  “Melane told me she admired your training today. You are a strong Warlord and an honor to Kaban.”

  Melane choked at the untruth Neera spoke but Casin nodded and stepped closer. If she moved slightly, their shoulders would brush.

  “I have long admired you as well, Melane.”

  Neera squeeze her shoulder and turned. “I will find Lanna and refill the trays.”

  Left alone, Melane swallowed and reached for her courage. She dared to lift her gaze to meet Casin’s heated brown eyes. He moved a little to the left and their arms grazed. “Are you free, Melane or do I mistake your bold actions?”

  Bold? She had only followed Neera over. From the corner of her eye, she caught Saran gazing at Mikayla. Did he lust for his brother’s woman or was he now attracted to the Raasa form due to his time spent among them?

  “Melane?” Casin touched her arm and Melane turned her startled gaze on him.

  He really was handsome with the sharp jut of his jaw, a chin with a small crease at the center and thick black hair he wore flowing about his shoulders.

  “I forgot your question, Warlord.”

  The smile on his face grew as he leaned down and murmured, “Are you open to invitation or do you still share Saran’s bed?”

  “I—I” Heat flooded her cheeks at the direct question.

  Disappointment darkened his gaze as Casin moved back an appropriate distance and dropped his hand from her arm. “I would not cross my fellow Warlord in this. Saran and I hold a deep friendship. Speak truth if my attentions are not wanted.”

  This was the moment that would define the change she needed to make. Her gaze tracked Saran in deep conversation with his brother and Mikayla. Taking a deep breath, Melane did it. “I am available, Warlord Casin.”

  And as she spoke the claim, a surge of pride filled her veins. Her shoulders straightened and she held her head higher.

  Chapter 7

  Saran tried to keep his attention on the stories being told but his eyes kept searching for Melane. She moved about the room with the speed of practice. Her smile gleamed less bright when people spoke to her, her shoulders curved in an unseen before slump. A frown pierced his brow.

  “Warlord Balal did not stay?” The Warlord traveled wherever the youngling traveled along with Warlord Kavan.

  “His mate is carrying his youngling. It would not serve to have him leave her long at this time.”

  Saran nodded. Neera joined Melane and for a moment he relaxed. The lines of strain on Melane’s face eased and her grin this time contained genuine joy. After speaking, they crossed the room and Saran thought she’d join him. Instead, their steps led toward Warlords Casin and Kavan.

  Saran couldn’t stop his shoulders from stiffening when Kavan and Neera parted one after another. Casin stroked Melane’s arm in a tender gesture and whispered in her ear. Her mouth curved in a shy smile he knew well. What did the two of them have to speak of?

  He’d already turned on the balls of his feet to question Melane when his brother murmured, “It would seem matters have changed. Does Melane find favor with Warlord Casin?”

  The very question caused Saran’s blood to boil. “She is not with him.”

  Kavan joined them and stood to one side of Mikayla after nodding a greeting.

  A knowing smirk crossed Vaan’s face. He ignored his Warlord to continue speaking. “Mayhap she wishes to change this. Casin is a Warlord of note. He is one of the last to receive the rank of Warlord from me before Dakar caused my troubles. Know you if he is still worthy?”

  Kavan also smirked but remained silent. Honesty compelled Saran to answer. To shame his friend would be wrong of him. “He is a good warrior. A Warlord his men follow with pride.”

  But he was not for Melane. Saran refused to look closely at his reasoning of why.

  Mikayla glanced over her shoulder to see what held their attention. “She is beautiful, Saran. Are you looking to make her your bride?”

  Vaan waited for the answer with some interest. If Saran could have ignored them both, he would have. “She is not the bride for me.”

  “Why? Does she prefer Warlord Casin?” Mikayla continued to stare at the pair.

  Her words set flames to his ire. He gritted his teeth and folded his arms over his chest to keep from storming over and pushing the two apart. “Warlor
d Casin is nothing to her. Melane is...sweet. Gentle.”

  Mayhap she did not know how to tell Casin to leave her alone. He tensed as their heads brushed close, lips moving as they whispered together. Why did they whisper? What words could Casin be saying to Melane and why did she not leave him?

  The questions pounded at his temple and Saran vacillated between tearing the younger Warlord’s head off and cornering Melane to demand what she thought she was doing.

  “Hmm.”

  Saran broke his gaze away from Casin and Melane and confronted Mikayla’s diamond point eyes. The green orbs contracted, her humor hard to miss. Kavan and the other warrior drifted away, leaving him alone with Vaan and Mikayla.

  Saran angled his head at his brother. “She is ever full of trouble, yes?”

  Vaan’s lips twitched as his hand stroked once over his mate’s fall of black hair. “Do not jest, she-ma. Saran has made it clear he is not for the young woman.” He spoke to Saran. “Do you favor a Raasa, brother of mine?”

  Suspicion rose in Vaan’s eyes.

  “I am not of a mind for a female from Raasa. The...” Saran risked a glance at Mikayla who awaited his answer eagerly. He flushed and continued, hoping he did not offend. “The kissing is more danger than I would court.”

  Mikayla sputtered, eyes wide and her laugh rolled out. She laughed so hard, both of Vaan’s arms came around to hold her upright. Heart light at witnessing her unfettered humor, Saran hiked a brow in his brother’s direction.

  Vaan shrugged and steadied his mate. “It is a familiar complaint from Kabanians. She finds it amusing.”

  Mikayla wiped glistening tears from her dancing eyes. “I once wondered that it must be a terrible slight to be a Kabanian woman. I’m most happy you have seen the error of your ways, mate.”

  On those words, she kissed Vaan’s chest. “I’m going to spend time settling our youngling. Join us when you are not needed.”

  She started to pull away but Vaan caught her at the waist. His eyes narrowed. “Stay with the Warlords assigned to you. Do not make me look for you if you are not in our rooms.”

  Their gazes held and the tone shifted. Darkened. The energy crackling between them seemed more than a matter of guards. Vaan remained unrelenting in his request and Saran feared the two would end in public discord.