Dark Warlord (Refuge Book 5)

by Cynthia Sax

  Sexual excitement coursed through Genine. Her response made no sense. They would be fighting to the death, not fucking.

  And the warrior could defeat her. She had use of only one hand and, judging by the way he moved—quickly, smoothly, silently, his hands often brushing the hilts of his blades—he was good. Damn good.

  She could die this planet rotation, never see another sunrise.

  Dying in battle was the destiny of every warrior. It had been how her father, her five brothers had died. Her lifespan would end the same way.

  “You have not been entered into these battles, Fighter Batu.” The Host pursed his lips.

  Batu. Genine silently tested the long-haired warrior’s name on her tongue. It suited him.

  “Then enter me.” The male wasn’t backing down, his stance widening, his booted feet planted on the white sand.

  “There is no need for us to enter you.” The Host was as obstinate as his opponent, his pale face expressionless. “We have another warrior willing to face Fighter Genine.”

  Batu, her long-haired warrior, gripped the hilt of his sword. “If that other warrior touches Fighter Genine, I will kill him and then I will kill you.”

  Urine scented the air, a puddle forming around the young male the organizer wanted her to fight.

  The Host’s pretty face remained blank. “We don’t respond to threats.” He sniffed. “But Fighter Omar has the same options Ema-1006 had. He may designate another warrior to fight for him.”

  “I designate Fighter Batu to fight for me.” The boy squeaked.

  The Host plucked at his cuffs. “Fighter Genine, you will face Fighter Batu.”

  Batu, the male she wanted, the male she would be fighting, appeared pleased with his win, his gaze locking on hers, his expression possessive.

  Her pussy dripped, her body responding to his dominance, and that irritated Genine. At the end of the planet rotation, one of them would be dead. If she didn’t focus, that being would be her.

  “Ema-1006, Ema-1005.” She caught the girls’ attention. “Return to our settlement. Tell Ema-974 to enter my domicile. She is to retrieve another body covering for me, the sword hanging over my sleeping support, and the container in the bathing chamber’s first compartment.”

  That container held her blades. Only axes, swords, daggers and other primitive weapons were allowed in Carinae E’s fighting rings.

  The girls ran to do her bidding. The long trek should tire them. They shouldn’t return.

  Genine didn’t want them to see the battles. She had been exposed to violence young, her planet having been invaded by the Humanoid Alliance when she had sixteen solar cycles.

  Caring only about the minerals deep within the ground, the enemy had been merciless, bombing the structure her mother occupied, raining projectiles down on unarmed beings. Males, females, the elderly, and babies had been slaughtered, their blood staining the ground red. Sometimes in her nightmares, Genine still heard them scream.

  It wasn’t an experience she wished anyone else to endure. While she was alive, she would shelter the girls as much as possible from the cruelty of the universe.

  “Di-971, I need somewhere private to change.” She had to assess the damage the cave snake had inflicted on her.

  “One of the merchants will supply that space for us.” The older female moved toward the stalls.

  Genine started to follow her.

  “Gerel.” Batu stepped to the side, blocking her departure. “I have words to exchange with the Host. Then I’ll come for you.”

  Her toes curled in her boots. She had never desired a male as much as she desired him. “I don’t think that’s wise.” They were enemies, should maintain a distance from each other until their battle.

  “It might not be wise.” His eyes glowed. “But it will happen.”

  Genine wanted it to happen.

  It took all the strength she had to walk away from him.

  Chapter Two

  He had found his gerel.

  Batu watched as Genine hobbled away from him, every cell in his modified body screaming to follow her, to protect her. She favored her right leg, didn’t appear to have use of her left arm. An unknown enemy could target those weaknesses, hurt his little human female.

  The destined mate he’d never believed he would find.

  He was a modified humanoid. The Humanoid Alliance, his makers, had used Chamele as his genetic base. Batu had a Chamele’s ability to fade into the background, to disappear from view. He was equipped with retractable claws, although his were longer, sturdier.

  Batu was also stronger, faster, had nanohumanics, could heal from almost any wound. He’d lived for thousands of human lifespans, had never aged past maturity.

  Had never found his gerel.

  Batu had accepted he wouldn’t have one, that his enhancements had stolen that future from him. He would be a Chamele Warlord without anyone to rule, would spend his long lifespan alone.

  There were other options. Some of the modified humanoids, once they escaped the Humanoid Alliance, had founded a settlement on the outlaw planet. The Refuge was a place a being like him could call home. He’d be welcomed there. He had heard there was a Chamele Warlord-in-training currently residing within its walls.

  But he was a modified humanoid, not a true Chamele, and being around mated pairs, families, constant reminders of what he could never have didn’t appeal to Batu. He preferred to recruit warriors and fight in the rings. Eventually, he would die in battle, be mourned by no one, forgotten by the universe.

  He was resigned to that fate.

  Then Batu had smelled his gerel and everything had changed. She was his, his hope, his future. He’d safeguard her from harm. No other male would touch her.

  “I’m not killing Fighter Genine,” he informed the Host.

  “Many have the mistaken belief that these battles are to the death.” The male’s tone was bored. “We don’t correct that belief because it’s true for the main battles. Those patrons are sophisticated and demand that level of entertainment. It takes less to amuse these crude beings.” His nose wrinkled with distaste.

  “How much less does it take to amuse them?” Batu didn’t want to harm his gerel either.

  “There are different types of violence and different ways to destroy an opponent.” The Host adjusted the cuffs of his garment. “We have heard of a male fighter facing another male in one of these rustic battles. The fighter enjoyed the company of other males. His opponent did not. The fighter won and made his opponent his unwilling slave, sealing that arrangement in front of the crowd, much to the distress of the other male. The beings watching loved it.”

  Batu would never take a female without consent, but to save his gerel’s life, he could act as though he was crossing that line.

  Once this final obligation to the Host and the beings the male served was completed, Batu and his gerel would be free. He could devote their almost limitless lifespans to regaining his honor and pleasing his mate.

  “Give the locals a good show, Fighter Batu.” The Host picked his way carefully through the crowd, moving toward the makeshift fighting ring. “That is all we require.”

  Batu would meet the organizers’ requirements, wouldn’t fail his gerel. He inhaled deeply, searched through the scents for Genine’s distinct fragrance, followed that trail. Beings stepped out of his way, their eyes wide with fear.

  He was accustomed to that reaction, had been genetically designed to inspire it. His brave mate wasn’t scared of him, however, and that pleased him.

  It didn’t take Batu long to locate her. She stood in a small tent, her back to him, her body bare to the waist.

  As the tent flap fluttered closed behind him, her shoulders squared. She was as aware of him as he was of her. His cock hardened, pressing against the confines of his leather ass coverings.

  “Are you looking for weaknesses?” Her husky voice pulled at him.

  “I’m admiring my gerel.” He perused her slowly. Her brown ha
ir was chin length, the curls mussed. Her shoulders were broad, her hips even wider, her waist thick and muscular. She was shorter than he was but tall enough so he wouldn’t have to bend far to kiss her.

  Bruises painted her tanned skin dark purple and violent yellow. A scar, whitened with age, streaked down her side. His female was a true warrior. Batu’s admiration warred with his fear-infused anger. “You fought a battle without me.”

  She could have been killed.

  “I’ve fought many battles without you.” She turned slightly, granting him a view of her beautiful face. A tiny scar stretched across her forehead. Another decorated her uplifted chin. He wanted to kiss each one, make her brown eyes darken with passion, cause her lush lips to part. “This planet rotation’s battle was with a cave snake.”

  A groove of red sliced down her left arm. Batu stifled a howl of outrage. Carinae E cave snakes were extremely dangerous. Larger warriors than his gerel had died fighting them. The beast had paralyzed one of her arms. If it had paralyzed both of her limbs, Genine would have lost her battle, would have died.

  “You will never fight on your own again.” He would always fight by her side.

  “I will fight you on my own.” She faced him directly, her gaze meeting his, her full breasts delightfully bare, her nipples taut. There were bruises and scars on her chest also. Some of those healed wounds could have been lifespan ending.

  Batu wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. “You’ll lose that fight with your arm paralyzed.” She’d lose that fight even if both of her arms worked. He had been enhanced, could move faster than a human’s gaze could track. “I could heal that wound for you.”

  “How would you do that?” She frowned. “And why would you do that? I’m your opponent.”

  “There’s no challenge in fighting a wounded opponent.” He stepped closer to her, her natural fragrance calling to him. “I’m a modified humanoid. There are nanohumanics in my saliva, blood, cum. They’ll heal you.”

  Giving her that part of him would also tighten the bond between them.

  “I’m not fucking you.” The scent of her arousal belied her words. She wanted him.

  And he wanted her. “When we fight, we’ll rut.” He drifted his fingertips along her cheeks, down her neck, between her breasts, her skin decadently soft. She sucked in her breath, her responsiveness exciting him. “I’ll claim you as my sex slave and use you harshly in the ring. Our rutting will be rough, violent, undeniable. You can struggle. You can tell me no. But I will take you.”

  She swallowed hard. “And if I don’t struggle, if I don’t tell you no?”

  She was perfect for him, everything a warrior could want. “You will do both.” He cupped her large breasts and squeezed. She winced but didn’t protest his rough treatment. “Our audience wants a show, gerel. We’ll give them one.”

  “You’ll have to win the battle to claim me as your sex slave. I could defeat you.” The defiance in her voice made him smile.

  “You won’t defeat me with one arm immobile.” He extended his claws, raked the sharp tips over his tongue. Pain coursed through him.

  “What are you doing?” She gazed up at him, horror reflecting in her eyes.

  “I’m healing you.” He retracted his claws, gripped her hips, pulled her to him. Her breasts flattened against his chest, the skin-on-skin contact filling him with a wild joy.

  He covered her lips with his. She opened, not hesitating, his brave warrior female. Their tongues twined, tumbled, both of them dueling for dominance.

  But Batu was a Chamele, had the soul of a Warlord. He did as his ancestors had always done—he conquered, taking what was his. And Genine submitted, following his lead.

  He stroked her neck. She obediently swallowed, tugging on his flesh, ingesting his nanohumanics-saturated blood. Her body writhed. He held her to him, demanding she continue. The more of his blood she took, the healthier she’d be, and the closer their connection.

  His tongue healed. He inflicted more wounds upon his flesh, harming himself to heal her, to claim her. She clutched his shoulders, first with one hand, and then with both, her paralysis dissipating.

  He breathed deeply. She smelled of him now and that pleased him. Every being would know she was his.

  His wounds healed yet again. He pulled back. The bruises on her chest had disappeared. The wound on her arm had closed, the pinkness fading.

  “I want you.” Yearning colored her voice.

  “I want you too.” He bracketed her face with his palms. “We will rut in the ring.”

  “You want me to resist that rutting.” She studied him, the intelligence in her eyes thrilling him.

  His gerel was a worthy mate for him in all ways.

  “You will fight our rutting with every weapon you have at your disposal.” And he would do everything he could to overcome her resistance, now that he knew it was feigned. “You’ll scream denials at the top of your lungs. You’ll strike me with your daggers, scratch my face with your fingernails, kick my shins with the toes of your boots. The entire settlement will know you were taken against your will.”

  “And that will turn you on.” She wiggled, rubbing against his leather-clad cock. “I’ll play your game, warrior, make it as good for you as it will be for me.”

  Her show was for their audience, not for him. Batu grabbed a cleaning cloth placed on a horizontal support near them. He silently removed the blood and dirt from her skin, not correcting her wrong assumptions.

  “I can do that.” She reached for the fabric square.

  “You will allow me to clean you.” He wouldn’t move on that decision. “Remain still.”

  Genine froze in place, obeying his command. She must not have always been the solo protector of a small clone settlement. She was accustomed to following orders.

  She had also talked of battlefields.

  “Where did you learn to fight?” He had been genetically designed for war. She was human.

  “My father taught me alongside my five brothers.” Her eyes lost focus, his gerel slipping into the past. “He believed throwing daggers, wielding a sword, shooting guns were life skills. He hoped we’d never need that knowledge.”

  “You did need that knowledge.” Batu flicked the cleaning cloth, the action converting the dirt and blood into air.

  “We did need it.” Her shoulders drooped. “The Humanoid Alliance invaded. My mother, a high-ranking official, died in the first wave of attacks. Seeking to knock out the command, our enemy targeted one of the structures designated for her role.”

  Batu caressed her skin with the fabric square, attempting to comfort her with his touch.

  “We fought for as long as we could, but we were outnumbered and had few ships.” Genine’s expression was bleak. “My father lost his lifespan during our escape.”

  Batu pressed his lips against her forehead, conveying his sympathy for her sorrow. He never had a father, having been designed in a laboratory, but he’d lost friends in battle. He understood her pain.

  “We joined the Rebel forces, fought wherever they sent us.” His gerel shared more of her past. “The six of us were always together. We had each other’s backs. Until I was given a special assignment.” She looked over Batu’s shoulder, not meeting his gaze. “I helped drive the Humanoid Alliance from an all-female planet. It was glorious and I was giddy with that triumph until I heard where the Rebels had sent my brothers.”

  “Where had they been sent?” Batu asked. He didn’t need to hear the answer. The grief was etched into her beautiful face.

  “Tau Ceti.”

  “I heard about what happened on Tau Ceti.” He wouldn’t make her say the words. Batu wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to him, pressing her face against his chest. The Humanoid Alliance had blown up the planet. Not even he, with his enhancements, could have survived that brutal tactic.

  “I lost everyone.” Genine mumbled against his skin. He felt her loss as though it were his own. “I fought like a wild thing a
fter that, not caring if I lived or died.”

  He had fought the same way before meeting her.

  “I didn’t die. I ended up here, on Carinae E.” She rested against him. “A male tried to assault one of the clone females. I killed him. The settlement hired me as their protector.”

  “They pay you?” He resumed his cleaning, rubbing the cloth over her back, savoring the feel of her.

  “They pay me in nourishment and beverage.”

  Batu suspected she could source both of those easily by herself.

  “They need protection, Batu.” His gerel lifted her head. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “You saw what happened here. They have no knowledge of the rest of the universe, can’t survive on their own.”

  “They have you to protect them.” They weren’t on their own.

  “They will only have me to protect them if I defeat you.” She touched his chin.

  He wanted to assure her they’d have her as a protector even when she lost to him but he couldn’t. The settlement she safeguarded consisted of all females. They might not accept his presence.

  And he wouldn’t be parted from her. If he couldn’t stay in the settlement, they’d have to find a new home.

  “They will always be protected.” That was the best he could promise. “I give you my word.”

  She frowned. Her lips parted.

  “Don’t question this warrior’s word, gerel.” He snapped the cleaning cloth against her ass.

  She squeaked and the air grew heavy with her musk. His human had liked the reprimand.

  He whipped her with the fabric square again, leaving a pink mark on her skin. Her back bowed, her face flushing with arousal.

  “Batu?”

  “We’ll rut in the ring.” He said that for both of them, his restraint badly frayed.

  “If you insist.” She pressed her lips together, clearly displeased with his decision.

  His aching balls were equally unhappy with him.

  Pushing away his need for his mate, he focused on cleaning her. Batu removed her garment completely, pulled her boots off her feet. Every strand of hair was tidied. Every curve and dip of her body was explored. He swept the cloth over her from the top of her curly-haired head to the tip of her big toes.