Valan's Bondmate (Zarronian Warriors Book 1)

by Mardi Maxwell

  Valan’s Bondmate

  The Zarronians

  Book One

  By

  Mardi Maxwell

  © Copyright May 2015 Mardi Maxwell

  Digital ISBN:: 978-1-943275-90-8

  Print ISBN - 978-1-943276-38-7

  All cover art © Copyright May 2015 by Mardi Maxwell

  All rights reserved.

  Artwork by Harris Channing

  Table of Contents

  History

  Glossary of Zarronian Terms

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Books by Mardi Maxwell

  Excerpt from :Thorn’s Bondmate by Mardi Maxwell

  DEDICATION

  For all of my dear friends, near and far. Some of you are authors and some are readers but each and every one of you enrich my life. A special thanks to my editor, Lynne St. James and cover artist Harris Channing. You rock!

  History

  For centuries the peace loving inhabitants of the Xenti Galaxy passed down the tales of the fierce and relentless Zarronian warriors. According to the elders the warriors were the guardians of the galaxy and only appeared when the Xentians were threatened. After centuries of peace, the younger Xentians dismissed the tales as myths until the bloodthirsty Wrothians attacked Xenti and the Zarronians appeared.

  The war lasted for ten annuals but ended when the Wrothian leader, Selik ad-San, discovered the Zarronians most closely guarded secret—the warriors were plagued with a mating fever and could only share the fever with a Zarronian female. If they didn't find a mate by age thirty their fever burned out of control, ending the warrior's life. Selik ad-San and his first in command Gorm ad-Jai attacked Zarronia with a virus designed to kill the females but leave the warriors alive to suffer and die of the fever.

  Enraged and grief stricken by the deaths of their bondmates, daughters, and sisters, the Zarronians planned a final, ruthless battle. After ten cycles the Wrothians' were defeated. The Zarronians, ever honorable, allowed the retreat of two Wrothian worldships filled with females and children.

  The Zarronians returned to their home planet believing they would soon be extinct. Their warrior instincts willed them to find a way to survive and they searched the universe for compatible females. After eight annuals a genealogist found a diary in which his ancestor revealed he'd bonded with a Wrothian female. When he reported this to the High Council they swore him to secrecy and ordered three of their older starship commanders to find the Wrothians. The search took two annuals but eventually they were found on Zhang where they'd been forced to settle when their damaged worldships disintegrated.

  The High Council informed the warriors compatible females had been found and revealed their identity. For two moon phases the warriors refused to take an enemy female as a bondmate. Finally the High Council declared any warrior who refused to bond with a Wrothian female would be stripped of his warrior status. Rather than lose the most important part of their lives, the warriors eventually relented and planned the raid on Zhang.

  Glossary of Zarronian Terms

  Zarronian Time Terms:

  Nano-unit: second

  Micro-unit: minute (80 nano-units in a micro-unit)

  Unit: hour (80 micro-units in a unit)

  Cycle: day (30 units in a cycle)

  Moon phase: month

  Annual: year

  Sun rising: dawn

  Sun zenith: noon

  Darkening: midnight

  Birth cycle: birthday

  Zarronian Terms:

  Female: a woman

  Kourtisan: a mistress

  Male: a warrior usually, sometimes other males

  Bond: the act of a warrior sharing his mating fever with a female

  Bondmate: a female who has accepted a warrior's fever

  Mate: a bondmates' warrior

  Saber-cat: a large ferocious cat-like creature, black fur with purple eyes

  Stinkgoat: a stinky goat-like creature. It produces pungent milk and cheese

  Versnake: a small colorful snake, aggressive and deadly

  Wolfen: a huge wolf-like animal, bronze colored fur and bright aqua eyes

  Tor: Zarronian god

  Chapter One

  Zarronia

  Valan Eirikson kicked the blankets away and for a moment the cool air in the room brought blessed relief from the mating fever burning in his veins. Next to him, his kourtisan, Morna, shivered then moved closer and snuggled against him. He savored the coolness of her skin then grinned when she moaned and slid a silky thigh over his belly in invitation. She wasn’t the kind of female to fall in love with a warrior but prolonged exposure to his fever would make her crave him. A situation he wanted to avoid which meant he'd have to free her from their arrangement soon.

  "Valan." She snuggled closer to him.

  He lifted her leg over his hip as he rolled onto his side and slid his hand to the small of her back. He rocked against her and his cock slid between her legs. She was hot and wet and welcoming. He probed and found her opening, then burning with need he thrust into her a few inches then withdrew and slid in again, going deeper with each thrust. A groan of pleasure left his lips when he slid all the way in. He pressed, hard, before withdrawing and thrusting again.

  She pulled him closer. "Faster, Valan." When he complied she sighed, and then tightened her arm around his shoulder. "Oh, yes, like that."

  He rolled until she was beneath him, and wrapped her legs around his waist as he increased the intensity of his thrusts. She tightened around him. A small cry of pleasure burst from her lips when she came and his own orgasm began as a small explosion then grew in force. He tightened his hands on her shoulders. At the last moment he fisted the sheets, tearing through them as intense pleasure exploded outward from his cock and every nerve in his body lit up, shaking him.

  For a few precious seconds a blue mist glowed on his skin and the heat left his body before it returned, hotter and brighter than before. His harsh breaths filled the air in rhythm with the pounding of his heart. Burying his face against the cooler skin of her shoulder, he clenched his hands until his fingers ached. Wanting to howl curses at the gods for giving him a body that betrayed him, he pulled out of her, rolled onto his back and stared at the shadows on the ceiling instead. With every passing month, his fever grew stronger and harder to control. Even the use of the medication the doctors developed, ZL3, no longer helped him maintain control when he was forced to use it.

  Without a bondmate to share his fever and accept his seed his death was imminent. The knowledge salvation was at hand made the situation worse. He wanted to live. But the thought of an enemy Wrothian female living in his home as his mate sickened him.

  Morna brushed her hand over his hair and leaned on one elbow looking down at him. "Sometimes you look so fierce you frighten me."

  He cupped her shoulder then ran his hand down her arm. "You have nothing to fear from me. You know Zarronian warriors don't harm females."

  She straddled his belly and stretched her body as she gathered her hair and let it fall down her back. The silky curls brushed over his cock, increasing his arousal.

  "I’ve heard the other warriors talk about the Wrothian females. It doesn’t sound like that rule will apply to them."

  "They are the enemy. They'll be treated as kourtisans an
d if they don't behave they'll be treated as prisoners."

  "Zarronians don’t take prisoners," Morna said.

  Valan's expression hardened. "We do now."

  She stroked her fingers down his chest and scooted back until his shaft slid through the slick seam of her vagina. "I want to know what will happen to me when you return from Zhang with your Wrothian mate."

  Her question didn't surprise him. Morna was a survivor and an adventuress. She’d traveled to Zarronia with his friend and First in Command, Cam Gunnarson, but the moment they’d met she let him know she was available. He'd accepted her offer and Cam laughed, wished him well, and went to pursue another female who caught his eye.

  Morna took to the position of a starship commander’s kourtisan as easily as he handled a fire sword. Eager and willing in bed, she almost never nagged. He suspected she dallied with other warriors while he was away but wasn't concerned. In fact, he’d hoped she’d find another warrior and move on, but so far she’d been tenacious in her determination to stay with him. An issue he'd have to resolve soon.

  A sharp poke in his ribs drew his focus. "Morna, watch yourself. You know better than to question me."

  "She won’t like my being here."

  "She’ll have no say in the matter." He grinned and nipped her finger as she traced his mouth. "Massage my head."

  She placed her hands on the sides of his head where a warrior's tattoo showed through the closely cut hair.

  "You Zarronians aren’t so tough. All you want to do is have sex, drink, eat, gamble and have your head rubbed. In that order."

  "You left out fighting. That comes first above anything else."

  Morna traced her fingertips over the tattoo, sliding her fingers through the long strands of hair growing from his forehead to his nape and down his back. He hummed his appreciation and wrapped his arms around her hips, pulling her higher on his chest.

  "Why do you do this?" She tapped the sides of his head.

  "It's our way."

  "I've seen warriors with the same tattoo but sometimes they have more or less stripes on theirs. What do the stripes mean?"

  "One for each brush with death." He moved his head until her fingertips brushed the top of his ear. "Rub there."

  "I was told Zarronians didn't have scars but you have several. Is that why?"

  "If the wound is severe enough it will scar." He moved his head. "Scratch."

  Morna laughed and obeyed his command. "I’d always heard Zarronians were attractive but I didn’t believe the rumors until I arrived here. Even the older warriors are gorgeous and sensuous. Nearly irresistible."

  Valan growled a warning then caught her sly smile and knew what she doing.

  "Does it make you jealous to hear me talk of other warriors?"

  "No. Just don’t play any of your games with my father. He’s not as forgiving as I am."

  She rolled her eyes. "You’re not forgiving at all. I don’t think you even have a word in your language for forgiveness, do you?"

  "No. Actions speak. If someone offends me they make amends or they die."

  "I’m not sure it’s safe to be your kourtisan. You have too many enemies." She shrugged then slid her hand down his body, making his stomach muscles ripple beneath her fingertips. "I’m going to have to find another sponsor. Your bondmate will have rights and she won’t accept…"

  Tired of her probing, he lifted her away from him, and rose from the bed. Ignoring her protests, he pulled on a pair of black leather pants. As he laced them they automatically adjusted to his body, forming a protective second skin. He shrugged into a black leather vest and fastened the chains holding the two sides together.

  His thoughts weren’t on what he was doing or his companion, instead they were on the past and the war with the Wrothians. While he and the other starship commanders searched the universe for compatible females, many warriors passed the age of bonding and died. It was a galling irony that the very race that had come so close to annihilating them would be the one to save them.

  "Valan?"

  Glancing her way, he frowned at her pouting face and pulled on his boots. He'd made sure she knew their arrangement was short term. He took care of her and in exchange she took care of his carnal needs.

  Morna crawled up behind him and ran her hand down his back then around to his chest. She tapped the object in his pocket. "What’s this?"

  He pulled out the jewelry box and flipped open the lid. Rare Xentian gems blazed in the light and threw colorful beams on to the walls.

  "Oh," Morna squealed, grabbed the necklace and jumped from the bed. She hurried to the mirror and fastened the chain around her neck, stroking her fingers over the stones before she turned back to him. "How does it look?"

  He focused on her. She was naked wearing only the diamonds. He felt nothing. For weeks he’d forced himself to visit her bed but the fleeting relief he found was no longer worth the effort. It wasn’t just his body’s need to cool the fever in his blood but his heart’s desire for a mate and children of his own. A Zarronian mate—not a Wrothian, he reminded himself. He yearned for a strong son to teach the warriors’ way and a beautiful daughter to protect but he wasn't sure he wanted either if they were tainted with Wrothian blood.

  Morna moved back to the bed. She picked up the box and shook it. "You didn’t get the earrings?"

  He slid his fire sword into the sheath on the back of his vest. "No, I didn’t get them. If you want them tell the store owner I gave you permission to purchase them with my credits as a farewell gift."

  Morna slinked toward him with a pout on her face. "Where are you going? This is our last night to be together before you leave for Zhang." She reached out and touched his chest.

  He caught her hand and forced it to her side before he released it. "My father is expecting me." He walked out of the room, his mind already on the journey ahead of him.

  ***

  Zhang

  Lia ad-San walked with the other women toward the village square. They moved slowly, dreading the punishment they were required by Wrothian law to witness. She let other women pass her, staying at the back of the crowd. The punishment of one of Gorm ad-Jai's women was a weekly event. This week’s punishment was to a pleasure-giver who accidentally spilled a few drops of ale on him. The previous week another woman didn’t show him the respect he believed he deserved. Gorm was a pig who deserved to be castrated and hung in the village square. But, none of the other warriors, including her sire, would take the chance of earning his hatred.

  In the square she found a place at the outer edge hoping the taller women would block her view of the whipping post. Unfortunately, she could still see it through gaps between the groups of scared women and moved a few feet to the side. Still, being back there was better than being caught at the front of the gathering. She'd made that mistake once when she was younger. The memory of the horrifying cycle stayed with her and still gave her nightmares.

  A gust of dry wind swirled causing her cloak and her long red hair to billow around her. When it lifted her gown she grabbed it then fought to control her hair. The wind calmed for a moment and she took the opportunity to pull the hood over her head and hold the front closed. When she looked up her friend Minda sent her a small wave and joined her.

  "I didn’t think you’d be here this cycle, Lia. Wouldn’t your sire give you permission to miss the punishment?"

  "He said my absence would offend Gorm."

  "Everyone in the village is shocked by the agreement between your sire and Gorm. I saw Ciryl ad-Pry at the market and she said even her sire, as horrible as he is, refuses to do business with him."

  "I know. My mother begged Selik ad-San to choose another master for me but he refused to change his mind." Lia glanced around and made sure none of the other women could hear them. "Tamar ad-Lin made an offer for me last week. He promised twenty percent of his trading credits for the next five annuals but my sire refused the proposal."

  Minda’s eyes widened as Lia related t
he huge sum. "But, why? No owner or sire would turn down such a sum for a mere female. Tamar ad-Lin is one of the nicest owners and he'd allow you to be a child-giver." Her voice grew quiet. "Everyone knows females don’t live very long if they belong to Gorm."

  A shudder of fear shook Lia. "I’m so scared of him, Minda. I don’t know what to do."

  Minda placed a comforting arm around Lia’s slender shoulders. "If we could get you to one of the villages on the dark side of the planet maybe a nicer warrior would claim you."

  "I wouldn't care if he was a farmer or a shop keeper as long as he didn’t want to harm me." She hugged Minda, and forced a smile to her lips.

  Lia felt a rush of excitement for the first time in months. "I might be able to make it to the dark side if I could find someone to help me get there." She squeezed Minda's hand then turned away. She’d tried to fight her fear of Gorm but how could she when he constantly threatened to harm her and told her in explicit detail what he planned to do when she belonged to him. Many of the owners, her sire included, preferred to carry out punishments in the privacy of their own homes, but others like Gorm enjoyed showing their power and cruelty to the village.

  The bell stopped ringing and a veil of tense silence fell over the crowd. As the seconds stretched into minutes they shifted and grew more anxious. Startled gasps filled the square when the gate of a nearby home flew open with a loud screech. Two guards emerged, forcefully dragging a young female between them. She struggled and pleaded with them as they pulled her toward the whipping post. Her owner, Gorm ad-Jai, followed. Sweat ran down his grotesque body and puffs of dust flew into the air with his heavy steps. He scanned the crowd of women and she knew he was looking for her. She shivered with revulsion and turned away while she pulled her cloak tighter around her body.

  One of the guards held the woman tightly while the other bound her to the whipping post. Gorm stood several feet behind her. He unfurled the whip he carried allowing it to fall into the dust before he turned to the crowd. "This pleasure-giver will receive twenty lashes." At Gorm’s signal one of the guards stepped forward and ripped the gown from the bound woman's back, revealing healed scars from past whippings. Gorm snapped the whip in the air by her terrified face and laughed when she screamed. Without further warning he began the punishment, smiling cruelly when the first red welt appeared on her back.