Wolf Warrior 01 The Lost Wolf Warrior

by Rae Monet

  A laugh in the cell caused him to slowly rotate his pulsating head. His vision was blurred, yet he saw well enough to snarl. Leaning against a table with various weapons of torture was the guard. This time his mask was gone, and Sir Galen smiled at him, a dozen “randy” mercenaries scattered behind him. He pushed away from the table, and sauntered over to Roan. Roan's dagger dangled from Galen's hand. As Galen approached him, Galen's arm flashed and he tore another cut into Roan's chest. Roan jerked at the chain in agony. He wanted to rip the chains from the wall. He sucked in his cry, not giving Galen the satisfaction of hearing him howl.

  "Now, sir, I think it would behoove you to tell us why you are really here?"

  Roan's silence blanketed the room. The mercenaries approached Ziem's body.

  "Was it to rescue your man? You share the same mark. A wolf? Do you think us daft? The Wolf coming to call while in the depths of our dungeon we hold a man marked with a wolf?” He inclined his head toward Ziem. “Well, let me take care of that for you.” He nodded and a guard raised his sword and swiftly hacked off Ziem's head, putting him out of his misery.

  Roan flexed against the chains. “Why don't you let me go and fight me like a real man, instead of this pathetic display of cowardliness? Oh, but I forgot, you have no honor, do you?” His fury made him shout, only to moan as the effects of the blood oozing from his body made him lightheaded.

  Galen, enraged, launched toward him, knife in hand, with deadly intent on his scarred face. Before he reached Roan, Galen stopped and smiled. “I think not. You will not goad me into releasing you, Wolf."

  "I will kill you,” Roan growled, jerking against his chains.

  "Oh, I doubt it. You are not in much of a position to threaten me, my lord.” He bowed and then gave Roan another malicious smile. “So now your friend is gone. Tell me what is in those Highland mountains that makes you so willing to die? What are you protecting, I wonder?” He strolled to the table of various weapons, the table where Roan's sword and dagger lay. He plucked a wrapped, aged scroll into his hands and unwrapped it. He turned the document for Roan to see. “Is it this maybe?"

  Roan worked very hard to appear impassive.

  "Do not worry, Wolf. I have already assembled a group of very Scottish-looking men to aid our trip to this place you seem so intent on dying over. They await my presence directly."

  Roan remained silent.

  "Or is it this?” Galen picked up the leather thong the crystal was dangling from. “Your man endured quite a bit of pain until we removed this.” Galen dropped it around his neck.

  He moved toward Roan and handed his dagger to the man standing next to him. The foul mercenary appeared eager to take over his torture.

  Roan's strength was waning, and remembering Serena's teaching, he valiantly tried to decrease the bleeding by slowing his breathing. He inhaled several deep breaths, reciting to himself, relax and breathe slowly.

  He closed his eyes in concentration.

  "Or is it the woman? Your friend cried out her name in agony when we cut him so skillfully, as we have you. Is her name Serena, perhaps?"

  Roan's eyes flew open and he yanked against the chains so hard one of them gave way, breaking from the stone wall.

  He had just made a grave error.

  God's blood.

  "Ahh, maybe I have something there. Serena is it, my friend?"

  Roan said nothing.

  Galen raised his hand to his cheek as though pondering Roan's fate. “So you still refuse to give information. Curious, indeed.” He turned to the man next to him. “Torture him. If he does not begin talking within the next quarter of an hour, slit his throat."

  The mercenary smiled, his head nodding, his gleeful laughter sounding like a hyena claiming his first meal of the day.

  Galen gave one final look at Roan and strode from the room.

  As the man brought the knife to Roan's arm, Roan jerked hard against the chain, praying this time it would fly from the wall. It did not. The pain from the previous two cuts and the dozen others littering his body was excruciating.

  The man moved the dagger from Roan's arm to his throat, the man's face so close to Roan's he could smell the other's foul breath and see his rotten teeth.

  "I think I'll just kill ya now."

  Roan raised his head toward the ceiling and roared at the top of his lungs, this time not caring who heard him. “Serena!"

  * * * *

  Serena noticed the large, scar-faced man brush rapidly past her. He was intent on his purpose, as was she. She reached the top of the dungeon and stopped. Her breath sucked in when she heard Roan's tortured cry.

  She released Caine who became instantly alert and took off running toward the last room of the dungeon. She threw off her cloak and followed Caine in a full run, pulling her swords out as she went.

  * * * *

  Roan was amazed at the vision he saw entering the dungeon. Her face painted with red lines, swords flashing, Serena and Caine crashed through the door at a full run, a beautiful sight indeed.

  The others were so stunned by the new visitors they didn't even try to stop her. She launched toward him, swirling one sword above her head. She circled it once, then brought it down on the man holding the dagger to Roan's throat, cutting the man in two. She twirled around to add more force behind her blow and brought her sword down with lighting speed. Sparks and rock flying, she struck his chain. She swung her arm and severed another.

  Roan braced his knees when his feet were released.

  Serena pushed back with her left sword and disposed of the mercenaries who had come up behind her with weapons raised. She pivoted around again, her battle cry and fury heard over all other shouts. Both swords swinging, she slashed at two more men and they went down. She pounded the head of another with the bottom of her sword handle, splattering his head like a melon. With a forceful movement, she swung around and severed the chain at Roan's wrist.

  Caine's growls and attack could be heard from his position behind Serena as he worked against one of the rushing guards.

  "Serena!” Roan yelled a warning as a man rushed up behind her.

  Leaving him, Serena turned, swords raised and crossed and braced to deflect the man's blow. The man's sword clashed with hers, causing her to drop one. She stepped away from Roan, drawing the man away from him. She forced her prey back toward the table where Roan's larger sword lay. Stepping forward, she locked her sword with the man's while her gloved fist flung out, smashing against his nose, causing him to stumble back. In a split-second of hesitation, she ran him through with her sword.

  More men were pouring through the door, flowing in like an undammed river. Caine tried to hold them back, baring his teeth, emitting a furious bark followed with a growl. Swinging around, Serena paused for a moment to assess their situation. A dozen more men swarmed through the door.

  Turning back around, she yelled at him. He raised his hand in response to her summons, and his sword went sailing through the air to land perfectly into his outstretched hand. Confirming he had caught the sword, she fell to one knee. Standing her remaining sword against her leg, she pulled her crossbow from behind her back and took out at least five men in successive shots.

  When the men began moving faster than her hands, she retrieved her sword and engaged them one by one, hampered by the fact that she didn't have her other sword. She plucked the dagger from her thigh and began to fight two men at a time.

  Roan, feeling stronger now that she was in the room, pulled back his arm. With his sword held high, he swung at the remaining chain restraint with all his might. It broke immediately and he landed heavily, wavering on his feet, while the blood re-circulated into his ankles.

  He picked up Serena's other sword at his feet and rushed forward to help her. He handed her the sword as he moved around her to engage the newly joined men. They were disposed of quickly, silently, one by one. He was angry and out of control. He had never felt such a bloodlust in his life. With her back to his, they fought toge
ther until no one was standing.

  Confident they had disposed of the Duke's mercenaries, she wrapped her arm around his waist to assist him out of the prison.

  "We must leave here immediately,” she said.

  They struggled up the steps and out of the dungeon. She had all of her weight behind him. His strength was wavering from the fight and the additional loss of blood. Stopping at the top of the stairs, their eyes strayed over the room full of women. Seemingly lost, some sat bleeding, others crying. All of the men must have come down to the battle and died as a reward for their heroism.

  Well done, Roan thought.

  The Duke, surprisingly enough, lay snoring in his chair, oblivious to all the activity around him. A silver chalice was clutched in his hand.

  "Wait."

  She stopped.

  He saw the woman he had given the dagger to. She remained chained to the Duke's chair.

  "I must free her.” His voice weak, he leaned heavily against Serena.

  * * * *

  Serena glanced at him, saw his determination, and her heart went out to him. She touched his shoulder and leaned him against the wall. “Stay here. I'll take care of it for you.” Stepping carefully through the melee of ransacked women, she approached the chair and raised her sword high above her head.

  The woman watched her with an expression of relief.

  What was this?

  The woman felt relief at the possibility that Serena might slay her? Serena swung and severed the chain holding the woman to the chair.

  The Duke gave one big snort and came awake, but the woman was swift and producing a dagger, she drove it deep into his heart. He howled. Reaching up, the woman twisted the knife and pulled it down, ensuring the Duke would die from her stroke.

  He gave one final cry, blood gurgled out of his mouth and his eyes turned lifeless. His head fell to the side, his hands dropped limp next to the chair and his body slumped deep into the confines of the ghastly creation. He was clearly dead.

  The woman retrieved the dagger, wiping it on her remaining clothing. She spat on the Duke. “That is your payment for my three years of faithful service, my lord."

  The woman handed the dagger to Serena. “Return this to your lord and thank the Gods everyday you have his love."

  Serena nodded at the words and returned to Roan's side. Gently, she helped him outside to the cart and laying him into it, covered him with blankets. Caine jumped up to join him, lying at his side, licking his face and whining.

  Suddenly from the village, Richard appeared, and they both picked up the cart and nonchalantly wheeled it out the gate. She was so glad he had responded to her silent call for help. Together, they returned to camp so Roan could be tended.

  * * * *

  After washing up, Serena stood aside and watched Richard attend Roan.

  "Ayeeee, it hurts. I thought you were to help alleviate the pain, not cause it.” Roan lounged on a pallet, groaning as Richard applied a salve to his cuts.

  "Your wounds are healing so rapidly I did not think my touch was needed. Look, this one is completely healed.” He ran his hand over one of the smaller cuts on Roan's arm.

  "Richard, here can you fill these? Let me tend him. He will likely cause you harm if you continue.” Serena handed Richard several leather water holders.

  "Take your time,” Roan growled at him.

  "Do not worry. It will take at least two hours to fill these. Maybe by then you will have regained your lost temper.” Richard hurried off toward the river.

  Serena knelt down next to him. Taking the salve, she gently applied it to his remaining cuts.

  Roan sighed and lay back against the pallet. “Richard only tries to help. Must you grumble at him?"

  He opened his eyes and sat up at her words, his hands falling onto her shoulders. There was urgency in his tone, to the point of alarm. “We must go after them now. They are seeking the path to the Realm, and they will do much damage. I am sure once they realize our gifts, they will take as many as they can hostage and kill the rest. They will kill them for the crystals alone once they realize their power.” His words spilled out in his agitation.

  "Roan.” Serena pushed him back against the pallet, and leaning over him, she kissed him gently, trying to calm him, projecting soothing thoughts. “We will pursue them. You need a few hours to heal, you have lost much blood. They will not ride through the night as we do. They are too weak. You know this. We will have caught them by dawn tomorrow. Just rest, my brave knight, rest.” She soothed her hand over his forehead, and he moaned against her touch. She gently moved her hand to his neck to stroke the uninjured, tense tendon. His hand came up and entwined with hers, and he pulled her down to lie on his body.

  She cried out in protest as her skin came in contact with his injured chest. “Your injuries...” Serena gasped when he rolled over, placing himself between her legs, pinning her beneath him. His eyes were alert now, his cock pressed against her. His lips claimed hers for a passionate kiss, full of need and promise.

  "God, I need you. I need to feel your body against mine. I need my cock inside of you. I need to smell you surrounding me. I want to forget all the death and feel alive. I need to love you.” His lips mingled with hers. “Say you know what I am feeling and you need the same as I do. Damnation, I am going mad with these feelings.” His hands ran up her stomach over her ribs, inching their way to her breasts, finally coming to rest under the tunic.

  "But, Richard..."

  His words stopped hers. “Knows what I am feeling, that is why he left us alone. He will stay away."

  "I also feel it, this desperation to feel alive.” Serena groaned when his tongue came out to lightly trail her jaw, onto her neck. His mouth replaced his tongue with a light suckling motion. She arched off the pallet toward him, pushing her wetness against his dick.

  "You were spectacular today with war paint on your face, wielding your swords like my true champion. I would have died several times if not for you. You are the most astounding woman. I want to be inside you."

  He whispered the words and they aroused her as they always did. His low voice was compelling. He had the ability to hypnotize her into a deeper desire with his persuasive words.

  "Oh,” she moaned, losing any pretense at going slow.

  He divested them of their clothing. His movements were of a man possessed. His hands were trembling as he pulled down her breeches, sliding them over her hips. His lips followed his hands. She sensed the desperation in his actions, his need to dispel the image of the carnage he had witnessed. His movements continued, pulling, sometimes ripping at their clothing, not stopping until they were flesh on flesh.

  Serena only worried for his state of mind. She knew he would rather die than hurt her.

  "Roan.” She touched her hand to his cheek, running her hand down his strong shoulders. “You will hurt yourself,” she reminded him softly, trying to bring peace within him. She continued to stroke him, wanting to slow his frantic actions. She saw him wince when she accidentally grazed one of his cuts. “Go gently. I sense your desperation."

  He stopped and dropped his cheek to hers. He moaned against her ear. “God, I am sorry. My need is too strong. I can't go slowly with you.” He seemed at a loss how to explain what he was feeling.

  She smiled at his apology. She knew he so badly wanted to take her. She sensed the readiness in him, he was rock-hard and poised to plunder, yet he stopped because she knew he didn't want to join with her like this. Raising her hands, she placed them on both sides of his face, lifting his head. Her eyes sought his.

  She soothingly stroked her hands over his face into his hair. Serenity floated over his features as she touched him. His eyes remained locked with hers. His lips parted and he exhaled. She gently ran her hands down his muscular back and over the contours of his lower back. His penis touched her clit, and she was wet and ready for him. Her hands came to rest on his ass and she slowly eased him farther into her. Lifting her head, she kissed his cheek as
she pulled him farther into her.

  "Take me. I need to feel you inside me.” She breathed the words against his cheek. She heard his moan as he plunged the remaining distance, joining them fully. Her thrusts joined his. She arched her back as she experienced the pure joy of their coupling, losing herself in him. It was like this every time they were together, a complete melding of her identity with his.

  * * * *

  Roan's hands reached down and pulled her arms above her head. Stretching their bodies fully, he laced their hands together above their heads, plunging his body farther into hers. His eyes sought hers and he froze, filling her, then sighed.

  It had been like this before, but this time it was different somehow, better, his feelings stronger. He shared his pleasure with her. She moaned, her breath caressing his neck, her smell floating over him. He smiled at the bliss in her face, at her aroused expression, her eyes half closed in her yearning for more. She wanted him thrusting inside of her.

  "You are so incredibly beautiful,” he said against her lips. Moving back slowly, he withdrew and slid forward, rejoining them. He watched her face, her delight, as she sighed in the rapture his movements brought her.

  "Nothing pleases me more than to feel your pleasure, to watch you come, to see the release in your eyes.” His lips re-joined hers, and with his tongue mimicking the movements of his hips, he began his repeated thrusts into the depths of her body, rocking them against each other. She rose to meet him. Her hands tightened on his.

  When he could stand it no longer, he gave his body over to the thrill of their union, closing his eyes. His neck arched up, and he growled in pure satisfaction at the friction and movement. They were beyond heaven.

  She was so small, but her body fit his perfectly. Her legs wrapped around him. She met him thrust for thrust, her breathing as brisk as his, her small hand gripped convulsively in his.

  It was then he knew he would always love her, more than he would ever love any one person. This bond they shared went beyond their physical joining to something much deeper, much more profound, to the mating of their hearts and to a sense of something of such importance, it could not be explained by love alone. They were soul mates in every way.