by T. A. White
Shea snorted back a laugh. That’s a conqueror for you.
“That’s how it works. The strong rule the weak. They had their chance, and they’ve squandered it. Without my men, these people would be dead in another generation or two.” Fallon’s voice hardened, and Shea saw the ruthless intellect behind the warrior’s mask. “Look around, my people never should have been able to conquer this land. There hasn’t been a significant battle since we invaded. The biggest threats aren’t from men but beasts. This land is fertile and capable of supporting a population three times its size whereas where we come from every drop of water has to be measured so as not to be wasted. Every scrap of food that passes our lips has to be rationed carefully. Hunger isn’t something you feel; it’s a state of being.
And yet nothing has stopped us from sweeping across this land. Your villages are laughably small and even your cities are capable of sustaining many more. You have entire towns that disappear in the night. These people have done nothing to save themselves. It will be my people who brave the wilds to secure their safety. They will reap the benefits.”
She agreed with everything he’d just said. The Lowlands and the Highlands were dying a long, slow death. Populations were declining and every year another village seemed to disappear. It’s why she’d helped Eamon and Buck for so long.
Despite the short term loss of life, Fallon’s people could save thousands if he was successful. The Trateri might have been brutal in their interactions with themselves and others, but they worshipped knowledge and continually strived to understand their surroundings. They fought to tame the world around them and adapted when they could not. Both of these were qualities that Lowlanders sorely lacked. It was the same for Highlanders as well.
It was also the reason she could never take Fallon and his men across the mist. Her people were just disorganized enough that he would have a real chance at conquering the Highlands, that and the weapons left over from the ancients made her cooperation with him impossible. Although it would make sense to unite the lands under one ruler, Shea could not see her people ever submitting to being the servants of another. It would never work. They would fight to the last man, and she could not subject them to that.
“You know I will never take you past the mists,” she told Fallon. The steel resolve in her voice filtered through. Something about the wilder berry clarified things for her, if there had been any doubt about this fact in her before, it was gone now.
She needed to get this over with. She needed him to understand that no matter what he did, show her the world or torture her, she was never going to help him.
Her loyalties weren’t divided anymore. She felt no regret for helping them in the Lowlands but she would never take them to the Highlands.
“I would rather die.”
She tightened her grip on her knees and waited.
A light touch ran up and down her back, and a pair of lips pressed against her head.
“I know that you believe that,” he told her softly. A finger turned her head towards him. “You’re Trateri now. The wilder root assured that. It would be best to forget past loyalties. It’ll only make things more difficult on you the harder you hang onto your previous life.”
She’d never been accused of taking the easy way.
After a moment of silence between them, he said, “Come. Rest by the fire. Tomorrow is early enough to start fighting.”
She smiled softly and let him pull her up. In this, he was right. The battle could begin again tomorrow.
Fallon placed her close to the fire and then sat behind her, pulling her back into his arms. They were alone. Sometime in their conversation Caden and Meynard had drifted out of sight.
Fallon stroked the skin of her arms gently and pressed a soft kiss against her neck, nearly searing a brand into her flesh for all the heat the soft touch generated. The feel of his lips lingered long after they left her neck. He rested his chin on top of her head. His arms tightened around her slightly, tucking her more firmly against him. The evidence of his arousal was firm against her hip.
Shea’s breath shuttered in her lungs as her eyes drifted shut. She wanted this man. Even given the very real possibility that he’d kill her when he realized she wouldn’t give him what he wanted, she craved him. The wilder root had helped clear the veil from her eyes on this subject too. She’d wanted him for a long time. Before the glimpse of his naked body at the pool by the water fall. Perhaps since the first moment she’d caught his eyes in Edgecomb.
What she did with that knowledge was entirely up to her.
He was still behind her as he waited for her choice. She smiled slightly. Who would have thought the conqueror would be so considerate. Or patient.
She was tired of denying herself what she wanted.
She turned in his arms and pressed her lips against his. Like that, whatever had been holding the warlord in check went up in flames. With a growl, he attacked, conquering her lips with his in a feverish rush as his tongue sought entrance. She quickly opened her mouth under his, and he surged inside.
His hands roamed over her body, sending flames racing down her nerve endings. He maneuvered her to her back as one hand slid over her breast band, caressing her through the cloth. It wasn’t enough. Not near enough.
It had been so long since she’d been with a man. Years. Her one glimpse of him months ago had inspired several vivid, sweaty dreams. Now, it was all she could do to keep from tearing his clothes off.
He agreed and ripped the constricting fabric of her breast band away, revealing what lay underneath. She groaned as warm lips closed over one nipple. She keened and arched her back as he rolled it against the roof of his mouth. A sharp nip brought a cry to her throat and sent a rush of sensation down to her core before he soothed the injured area with gentle kisses.
Her nails dug into his back as he palmed her through the loin cloth. She tilted her hips to give him better access and felt her sex pulse as he cupped her firmly while his other hand rose to tweak the other nipple.
“I have wanted to do this since I spotted you in Edgecomb,” he rasped against her skin.
His hands moved between them as he dragged the scrap cloth down her legs. Her hands busied themselves undoing the laces of his pants.
In very little time, they were both naked.
The fire was just enough to see shapes. Shea panted as she stared up at him, his cock jutting proudly as he knelt over her. He leaned down and claimed her lips, his passion consuming her. She whimpered as his hands skated down her body.
His fingers parted the lips of her sex and rubbed firmly against the sensitive bundle of nerves there. As if it had a mind of their own, her pelvis rolled against his fingers. A long, thick digit penetrated, before moving in and out. The pace quickened as her breath became heavier.
Her breasts swelled, her skin heated from the inside out. If the night was chilly, she couldn’t feel it.
“Please. Hurry.” Her hands wandered over his skin caressing and clutching as her need built.
She tried to pull him down on top of her. He resisted with a chuckle.
“So pretty. Come for me, pretty girl.”
With a loud keen, she did exactly as he asked. He kept working her as she came down from her orgasm, wringing every drop of pleasure from her.
Finally her breath evened out. She blinked up at him as he moved between her legs, feeling her heart start to race again.
“My turn.”
He began to push inside. She couldn’t help wriggling a little at the discomfort. It had been a long time since she’d last shared her bed. But finally, he was fully inside her. He reached and drew her legs up to either side of him and slowly, oh so slowly, began to withdraw until just the tip of him rested in her. With a powerful thrust, he sank his shaft deep, only to withdraw slowly.
She moaned as he set the pace, alternating slow strokes with fast ones, and driving her mad with desire. Unbelievably her pleasure began to climb again, until she was meeting his thrus
ts with ones of her own.
“Faster.” She clutched at his back to her urge him on and tilted her hips towards him.
“I set the pace, little one.”
“You’re killing me.”
A rough chuckle was her only response.
How did he have so much stamina?
Planting one foot, she pushed up with her hips and then heaved, rolling him onto his back. She ended up on top with him fully inside her. She closed her eyes at the delicious feeling.
With a wicked smile she lifted herself before grinding down. That felt good.
She did it again and again, adding a slight twist to her hips. That felt really good.
He let her set the pace for a moment before rolling her onto her back and pinning her hands beside her head.
“I decide when to finish this,” he growled.
She didn’t think she could take much more and whimpered.
His hips thrust came faster and faster. She was almost there. Almost.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Her eyes opened to stare into his fierce ones. The moment became all the more intimate. She felt as if he could see into her soul. She wanted to hide but couldn’t. His gaze held her spell bound.
He reached between them and rubbed her clitoris. Every nerve in her body drew tight and then exploded as her vagina gripped his cock with rhythmic pulses. He thrust harder and faster as she reached her finish, his own building.
She wrapped her arms around his back and held on as he found his own release. His eyes drilled into hers as he thrust once and then twice more, spending himself.
“You are mine.”
Shea started to turn, breaking the gaze. He caught her chin forcing her eyes back to his. Whatever he saw there must have pleased him. He dropped a kiss on her mouth and pulled out, then rolled over. She could hear him rummaging through bags.
He lay back down and settled her head on his chest before spreading a blanket over the both of them. His arms were warm around him and, as she drifted off to sleep, his words kept repeating in her head. ‘You are mine’.
She very much feared he was right.
Chapter Twenty One
The pillow under her cheek was firm and lumpy. Shea rubbed her cheek against it and opened her eyes to see a smooth chest. Shea went very still for a long moment. When Fallon’s arms did nothing but tighten slightly before relaxing again, she lifted her head to look at his sleeping face.
It was relaxed with a softness she’d never seen on him before. When he was awake, the force of his personality animated every feature. This wasn’t the warlord but simply a man.
When he woke, he’d go back to being a leader, and Shea’s enemy.
She dropped a light kiss on his chest before gently extricating herself from his arms, making sure to cover him again with the blanket.
She shivered in the predawn air as she quietly pulled her clothes on. The moon had set but the sun hadn’t quite risen high enough to relieve the black.
Finished tying her shoes, she stood and, for a long moment, looked down at Fallon. A big part of her wanted to crawl back into his arms and wait for him to wake her once the sun had risen.
But that wasn’t who she was. It was best to hurry back to camp and pretend this never happened. It’d be difficult. Fallon didn’t seem like the kind of man who took rejection well.
She pondered that thought as she headed back to the camp. Managing others wasn’t exactly her strong suit.
Caden watched the woman disappear into the darkness from his seat next to the cold campfire.
“She’s more stubborn than I thought,” he told the still figure on the ground. “Not too bright, if she thinks this will be the end of it though.”
Fallon sat up, the blanket sliding to his lap, and stared in the direction Shea had disappeared.
He’d woken as soon as she started moving but feigned sleep to see what she would do. As usual, she had surprised him.
He’d won the battle, not the war. A slight smile stole across his lips. He so enjoyed a challenge.
“Continue with the previous plan,” Fallon ordered. “If she wants to be a guard, treat her like a guard.”
“Your duties from now on are to attend to the warlord’s needs. You’re to be by his side whenever he needs you. You’ll sleep in his tent on a pallet in case he has a task for you in the middle of the night. The only times you’re to be away from him is for an hour in the morning and an hour in the evening when you’ll attend a special course of training or if he sends you on an errand.” Trenton shoved a pile of clothes into Shea’s arms. “These are your uniforms. It is your responsibility to keep them clean and orderly. Ask one of the guards if you have any questions.”
Basically, Shea was to be at Fallon’s beck and call. She was so good at taking orders, too. She’d be dead in a week. If Fallon didn’t kill her, the other guards just might.
Maybe she was being too pessimistic. She thought she’d been making progress in her people skills with Eamon. If she kept those in mind, she might survive. Maybe. She just needed to keep her mouth closed and not insult anyone.
She was already wearing the same uniform she’d seen the other guard’s wear. By the feel of the clothes in her arms, she figured she’d been given three spares. That was better than what she’d had as a scout.
She hoped whatever had possessed her last night was well and truly gone because from now on she was treating Fallon as an enemy captor. Someone she had to show respect if she wanted to live, but not someone you shared your body with.
“You’d better get to work now,” Trenton said. “He’ll be expecting breakfast shortly.”
“Uh, right.”
She stored her gear and grabbed a warm biscuit from one of the cooks. Shea tugged at her uniform one last time as she stared at the entrance to Fallon’s quarters. She ignored the examining look the guard was giving her.
She could do this. She could. She’d just go in there, figure out what Fallon wanted to eat and get it for him. This was nothing. It would be like every other morning for the past few weeks.
“Food won’t serve itself.”
Shea looked sharply at the guard. He stared back in challenge.
“A word of friendly advice, the warlord doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He scoffed. “Don’t just keep it in mind. When he’s in a mood, everybody suffers. We don’t need to suffer because you can’t do your job.”
His tone wasn’t hostile. At least not totally. It was more that he was giving it to her straight, with no regard to feelings or dancing around the issue.
It had the welcome effect of quelling some of Shea’s nerves. His way of talking was something Shea was familiar with.
“I understand.”
“If you understood, you’d quit flapping your gums and get your ass inside to attend to your warlord.”
Shea sighed inwardly. Yup. This was familiar.
She kept what she might’ve said to herself and walked into the tent.
It appeared empty at first glance. The table had an assortment of food, enough to feed Shea’s entire squad for days. Warm biscuits, sweet pastries, wild berries, thinly cut ham and several types of cheeses gave off a tantalizing aroma that set Shea’s mouth to watering. That biscuit she had gobbled down was a faint memory in the face of this feast.
The one thing missing was Fallon. Shea moved further into the room, not seeing him anywhere. He couldn’t still be at last night’s campsite. Though dawn was barely gone, Fallon didn’t strike Shea as the type to sleep in.
The guard had indicated he was here as well.
Slowly, her eyes were drawn to the partition that hid his sleeping quarters.
She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, questioning her luck. Procrastinating wouldn’t help and would only delay the inevitable. Might as well get it over with.
Shea moved closer to the partition and called out softly, “Fallon?”
S
he tilted her head slightly, listening for an answer. All she heard was the faint splash of water.
Louder, she called, “Fallon?”
“I’m back here.”
Shea glared at the partition. Of course he was. She didn’t want to go back there. For her continued peace of mind, not to mention her new vow to treat him as an enemy and not a man she found attractive, she wanted to stay on this side of the partition.
“Did you need anything?” She cringed as the words left her mouth. Just what he needed, a perfect opening.
“A plate of food.”
Thankful for the temporary reprieve, Shea busied herself selecting a few pieces of the meat, two biscuits and a handful of the berries. Once the plate was complete, she faced the same prospect as earlier.
Holding the plate of food, she hesitated at the entrance to Fallon’s sleeping chamber. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat at the table?”
“Get in here already,” came the forceful reply.
Shea grimaced at the slight edge to his voice even while she stepped past the partition. Her eyes were drawn immediately to where Fallon reclined in the water. His head was propped back on a folded towel and both arms were resting on either side of the bath.
She stopped several feet from him and held up the plate of food. “I didn’t know what you wanted, so I just guessed.”
Her eyes kept wanting to stray to where the water distorted the view of his hard body. Even distracted as she was, she braced for the interrogation she knew was coming. She’d already thought up a dozen excuses as to why she left his arms before dawn. She had no doubt he would think their previous intimacy was a reason to continue in the same vein.
“Bring it here. You’ll have to feed it to me. As you can see, my hands are a bit wet.” He lifted his hands out of the water as if to prove his words true.
The slight smile and the challenge in his eyes dared her to argue.
Shea fought back a growl. She’d be damned if she’d react the way he expected her to. If he thought she was too shy to function around a naked man, he was wrong. She’d beat him at his game and show him his body held no appeal.
