Reckoning

by T. J. Michaels

  Joan was right about the warrior pecking order. Draeman soldiers wouldn’t have hesitated to give her the details, considering she outranked them all. But these weren’t Draeman. Linc and company reported to RuArk, regardless of her giving orders right after the man had been wounded. However, the knowledge did nothing to remove her irritation at not getting any answers.

  She wanted to know what the hell was going on, but that blasted Linc wasn’t budging an inch. In fact, he stared her down with a glare, as if he wanted to say something more. She was really getting sick of his funky attitude and her neck moved slightly to the side as her hand found its way to her hip. Just as she was about to ask him if he had a problem, he excused himself.

  The day, along with the next one, passed in a blur of nasty tea, bites of food and fading into and out of the oblivion of restorative sleep. She awoke to a quiet room and realized that for the first time in almost two days she didn’t feel as if she were going to keel over. She rose and made her way to the bathing room by the light of the moon that filled the space with its glow.

  When she was done, instead of bunking down on the couch again, she climbed the steps and eased beneath the covers next to RuArk. He didn’t stir one bit. Rhia sat there for a moment just watching the rise and fall of his chest, the flutter of his eyelids that said he was dreaming.

  RuArk was a good man. She could almost see the gray twinkle of his gaze when he was being mischievous with her. Almost smell the scent they created together when they made love. Feel his arms around her.

  As she sat, a peace that she hadn’t experienced in many years came over her until it overflowed her heart center.

  I’m just relieved that my lifemate will live. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

  Smiling at her own silliness, she lay down and once again let sleep claim her.

  * * * * *

  RuArk awoke with the sun beaming in through the terrace windows. He tried to sit up, but his body was heavy with fatigue, like a man wearing a full suit of clothes trying to swim across the river. All he could do was slump back against the pillows. Though he felt anything but calm, he forced himself to lie quietly as he took deep cleansing breaths.

  A quick glance around told him he was at home, in his own bed. But why? What in blazes had happened? He tried to remember the exact events of that night, but his thoughts remained fuzzy around the edges. He shook his head briskly to clear it, but the action did nothing except start a wicked pounding at his temples.

  In his mind’s eye, he recalled Rhia drenched in rain and covered in blood. There’d been darkness and agony. Cold cobblestones, thick slippery mud, pain. A wide-eyed Rhia had screamed at him, but he couldn’t hear her words, only the thick pounding of his own heart. Then there’d been peace.

  He reached for his Source and the memories came—his shoulder had stung, then burned like fire, even in the raging storm. As he looked down at his body, his energy waned, and his hold on his Source along with it.

  The injured limb was wrapped snugly in clean strips of gauzy white material and bound securely against his chest. His free hand rubbed against his still-pounding temple.

  Focusing on the sounds around him, he heard someone open the door to his apartments and walk toward the bedroom. He hoped whoever it was would come in and give him some news on what had been going on while he’d been out of it. But the footfalls paused in the outer room, turned around and went back out the way they’d come.

  Not long after, he heard footsteps again, but these were much heavier and moved a bit slower than before. They could only belong to a man. His door opened just wide enough for an old man with long gray hair to stick his head through the opening.

  “Good, you are awake. How do you feel?”

  “Grandfather? When did you arrive? How long have I been asleep?”

  “Rhia sent word that you were injured in battle. We were not worried with Sharyn here, so I waited until this morning to make the journey across the river to see you and promised to send word to your parents about how you are doing. You have slept for several days. What do you remember?”

  “Other than getting injured, not much at all.” RuArk grunted and rubbed his slightly feverish chest. The muscles felt as if they were stretched too tightly across his ribs, sending a dull, but potent pain through his upper body. Perfect, a pain in his chest to match the one in his head and shoulder. He was sore all over. Had someone spent the last few days beating him? Moving his uninjured arm to stretch the muscles, he winced with each movement.

  “Your wound was life threatening. The healing required great amounts of energy, which caused your muscles to seize. You will be tender for some days to come.”

  “What happened to me? The last thing I remember was seeing Rhia fighting off two men dressed in black. It was raining and the courtyard was full of mud and puddles of blood. Where is my lifemate?” RuArk was trained to be free of fear in every situation, but the thought that something happened to Rhia while he’d been laid out brought him to the edge of his control. He had to get up.

  “You are not to rise, grandson,” the Grandfather said sternly. “I am too old to fight with you, but I will thrash you if I must. Make this too difficult and I will simply send for your mother.”

  Warlord or not, Queen Mila was the last person he wanted to see. If left up to her, he would be ordered to bed for the next two cycles.

  Nodding his agreement to behave, he watched the Grandfather rise from his spot on the top step of the platform bed, his hand on the pommel of his blade.

  “You came to me armed?” RuArk was incredulous.

  “As I said, I will thrash you if necessary.” The old man smiled and RuArk shook his head at his elder’s antics. “Besides, if you are concerned for Rhia, there is an easier way. Simply invoke the life bond and you will know she is well. You may not have enough energy to hold strong to your Source, but the life bond should be effortless.”

  And he was right—it flared and RuArk immediately felt her. She was close and perfectly well. Her voice popped into his head and he went still. It wasn’t coming through the bond. It felt more like a vague memory, just out of reach. She’d been having a conversation with Joan about him. About loving him? But had it been just a dream?

  The Grandfather sat down again at his bedside and told him everything he’d learned since his arrival this morning. He left out nothing, including how Rhia and Sharyn linked their Gifts together to dissolve a rather nasty blood poison.

  “Blood poison?” RuArk wrinkled his brow, but let the Grandfather continue.

  “Yes, most likely smeared on the blade that sliced through your shoulder. Both Rhia and Sharyn exerted a great amount of energy to save you, grandson. It took Rhia two days to even get out of bed after that. Perhaps the healing would not have wiped them out had you been a skinnier warrior, eh?” With a chuckle and a wry grin, he parted the light woven tunic and bared RuArk’s upper body so he could lay his hands on his bare chest. The elder’s Source burst forward like pure light, and then flowed outward to wrap RuArk in comforting warmth. The Grandfather listened to RuArk’s lungs and heart without bothering to use the steth sitting nearby. Amazing considering the tech that Draeman relied so heavily on still couldn’t pull off such a feat.

  “The fever has just about broken, and your lungs are clear. But you still have some healing to do. You must listen to me in this and heed the instructions given to you if you wish to regain your full strength. I have already given Lunis instructions on what you are to eat and drink. You must also rest seven more days.”

  RuArk started to protest, but the pain beating against the back of his eyes caused him to clamp his mouth shut. What a headache. And he still hadn’t seen Rhia.

  The Grandfather helped him sit up and then rose and made his way down to the floor.

  The old man waved goodbye and walked out into the living room without another word. But where was Rhia? RuArk wanted some answers and he wanted them now. Just when he felt his temper slip, the bedroo
m door opened again and his scowl faded into a smile. A warm glow began low in his body and it wasn’t from the remaining fever.

  Chapter Four

  A moment after the Grandfather left, Rhia rushed into the room.

  “I’m here, RuArk.”

  Much to RuArk’s liking, she wore a very short peach-colored silk robe. The poufy bun on top of her head accentuated her high cheekbones and luscious lips. The scant bathrobe barely covered her strong thighs. A belt was tied neatly around her middle and the smallness of her waist enhanced voluptuous breasts—breasts that threatened to spill out. He could hardly stand it.

  Oh, if only she knew what she was doing to him, and in his condition, too. Her jaw was set in full Blademaster challenge mode. She was obviously determined to carry out some task, but her warm smile and gleaming amber eyes gave her away. She was glad to see him.

  His gaze was glued to her thighs and the sleek play of muscle as she circled to his side of the bed and climbed the steps. All his senses tuned in to this woman. She bent to set down a breakfast tray, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. His blood heated when her breast brushed against his arm as she leaned close and tucked a large linen napkin under his chin.

  When she fluffed the pillows behind him, the warmth of her soft skin seeped through her wispy silk robe. He breathed deeply to wash his mind of its wayward thoughts only to be overtaken by the clean scent of her hair. He felt like a dirty old warrior alone with a beautiful young woman, with devilish thoughts coursing through his brain.

  As she lifted the spoon to feed him what looked like porridge, he clamped his lips shut and glared at her.

  “Seriously?” she asked. Clearly, she thought he was just being difficult about being fed. On the contrary, he couldn’t bear the sight of the crevice at the top of her robe. It led down to a pair of the most inviting breasts he’d ever laid eyes on. His mouth watered as he recalled the taste of those sweet taut mounds.

  “You need to eat to recover quickly, RuArk. We can do this the easy way, or I can get Linc to hold your mouth open while I feed you. Your call, truce or torture?”

  “Tell me again how long I must stay in bed.” He eyed her guardedly, and waited for the answer. Gods, he would go crazy if he had to see her barely dressed for a week and not be able to sink into her sweet core.

  “The Grandfather said about seven days.”

  “Will I get to see you in that robe every morning?”

  Not bothering to hide what he knew was a predatory grin, satisfaction filled him when she shivered. One side of her mouth lifted as she stated flatly, “No.”

  “Fine. Truce.”

  After he’d had enough of the warm porridge, Rhia placed a cup of creamy coffee into his free hand. He hated that his grip was unsteady in his current weakened state and he appreciated that she left him alone about it. When he was done, she took his empty cup, put it on the tray and removed all the dishes to the coffee table across the room.

  RuArk had hated every second of being fed, but he certainly appreciated that she cared enough to help him. And he sure as hells appreciated the view. She returned to the bed and settled next to him on her knees. RuArk’s gaze burned into hers before he let it travel to the spot where her robe rode seductively high up her thighs. He simply couldn’t resist reaching out with his good arm to slide his hand along her bare leg and up underneath her silken material.

  Rhia jumped when he made contact with her skin. It felt like it had been forever since he’d touched her, and her skin felt so good against his fingers. When he gently pressed his hand between her knees, he almost sighed with relief when she opened without hesitation.

  When she leaned back on her heels and spread her legs wide, a deep groan seeped up out of his chest even as her need became a sensual spark in her beautiful eyes.

  “RuArk, we shouldn’t be doing this yet. You need to get better first.”

  He touched the short cropped curls between her legs and gently slid a finger between her dewy flesh. Up and down. Up and down. The sweetest friction imaginable.

  “RuArk, you’ll hurt your arm if you continue to... oooh.”

  “I like it when you say that.”

  “W-when I say what? Mmm...”

  “That.” The tip of his tongue glided over his lower lip. He wished his tongue was somewhere else. He knew she did too when her hips began to roll ever so slightly. He was enjoying their sensual dance.

  Wanted to dance the most primal of steps with her.

  “RuArk. You shouldn’t.”

  “Let me pleasure you, Fire Storm. If I cannot sink my cock into your sweetness, let me at least touch you.”

  “But you’re supposed to be rest—”

  “Relax, Rhia,” he whispered.

  “Resting your... arm.”

  “Let me, sweetheart.” He picked up the pace, moving the pads of his fingers over, in and through her sensitive folds until they were slick with her honey. Her unique scent wafted up from between her spread legs. Such a sweet aphrodisiac.

  Her inner thighs quivered when he gave his attention to the blooming bud stiffening against his fingers as he spread her dewy sweetness all over it in slow, agonizing circles.

  “Come for me, sweet.” He was weak from his wound and tiring fast, but he was determined to push her over the edge. He wanted, needed to feel her melt for him. Blood pounded in his ears and flowed down to his cock until it filled to near bursting. He’d almost died a few days ago and all he could think about was burying himself to the hilt in his lifemate’s hot center. Right now, her sweet sex was his whole world.

  RuArk wanted to tease his wife with words of what he’d like to do to her, but putting more than two words together was impossible. Her hips tilted forward to give him better access, and the walls of her channel gripped the seeking finger he plunged inside her. The belt of her robe had come undone, and the silky covering fell open just as her head fell back onto her shoulders.

  RuArk’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth when Rhia palmed her breasts, kneaded and caressed them until the nipples were hard as polished stones. She was wound up and the spring only pulled tighter. Yes, this was what he wanted—for her to welcome it, reach for it, knowing he would give her sweet release. Bucking against his hand, she was almost there.

  “Wind Storm, the Grandfather said you were awake and—”

  “Fucking hell,” Rhia hissed, quickly drawing her knees and robe together. RuArk hoped the garment hid what he’d been doing to her underneath it.

  Slamming to a halt, a red-faced Linc turned away from the erotic scene. RuArk grinned wickedly at a frazzled Rhia, and lifted his fingers to inhale her fragrant scent.

  He opened his mouth, swirled his tongue around the finger that had just been inside her and licked it clean.

  RuArk grinned. “Mmm, you taste so sweet.”

  Rhia looked as if she might swallow her tongue and barely managed to paint on a scowl at his torment. RuArk lowered his hand to his side just as Linc reappeared in the doorway with a cup.

  And RuArk was still grinning in spite of the interruption.

  “You are such a blasted tease,” she whispered, then scooted sideways a bit so he could see past her to view Linc better.

  RuArk turned his eyes to his First Commander and pinned him with a glare. “Linc, I believed your rooms were in the barracks?”

  “Sir?”

  “Perhaps I am mistaken since you entered these rooms without knocking.”

  “I just received news you were awake and did not think to call out for entry.”

  “It is a poor excuse for disrespecting my lifemate. This is her space, our space. Don’t let it happen again. I don’t want Rhia to find herself in an embarrassing situation not of her own making.”

  Rhia blushed to the roots of her dark, flame streaked hair and elbowed RuArk in the thigh. “Will you shush, already?”

  “I apologize, sir. And my apologies to you, Fire Storm.”

  Rhia nodded, but said nothing, and RuArk wonder
ed at the coldness between the two.

  Linc walked up the steps and offered RuArk the fresh cup of brew, this one fragrant with a blend of chocolate and spices. It tasted almost as good as Rhia. Certainly much better than the bland porridge she’d forced him to eat earlier, or the medicine he could still taste on the back of his tongue from whatever he’d been given while he’d been unconscious.

  “Your report, Linc?”

  “Yes, sir.” Linc glanced distractedly at Rhia, then finally spoke in his usual matter-of-fact tone. “We were attacked by a band of Noman.”

  RuArk’s hand froze halfway to his mouth. Passing the cup to Rhia, he forced himself not to interrupt knowing there was more to the story.

  “They did not breach the main gates, but entered the township by way of an overgrown, and obviously long forgotten set of small wooden gates behind the stables.”

  RuArk’s brows rose. “The villa’s stables?”

  “No, sir, the public stables of the Society of Breeders on the westernmost side of town. They’re built into the inner wall that surrounds the entire township. How they knew of these gates, we are not sure.”

  Both RuArk and Rhia frowned as Linc relayed the rest of the events of that fateful evening.

  They’d lost several warriors and had many more wounded because of the stealth of the attack. But in the end, the Noman had been slaughtered almost to a man with only a few escaping into the darkness of the night. And they had no idea who was behind it all.

  At the knock on the door, RuArk looked to Linc with a raised brow.

  “Drefan guards the apartment doors. No one enters without his knowledge.”

  RuArk called out permission to come into the bedroom. A granite mask hid his surprise when Ricard Shae walked in with Brita on his heels.

  Rhia must have caught the look that passed between RuArk and Linc because she leaned sideways and whispered into her husband’s ear.

  “I know you don’t like the man, but I’ve known him my whole life. You don’t think he had anything to do with this, do you?”