by Stacy Reid
“Deliver the women to the hari wing. Ensure they are generously fed and there is ample fine wine. I will join you shortly.”
After his chancellor exited, Ajali spun to face Uriah. “Have attendants and a squadron of warriors return the chests of gems to King Valius. Prepare a missive informing him of the cancellation of Nuria’s allegiance with Boreas, and make a promise for our visit in the near future.”
Ajali ignored Uriah’s stare, and stalked to the portrait of their fallen queen, seeking something from his mother’s emerald gaze deep within her painted image. Echoes of her wails of loss and despair sliced through his mind. Memory of her haunted gaze as she lay dying while her kingdom and king burned had Ajali closing his eyes, blotting out the pain of the past. Nothing had been more important to his queen and mother than the protection of their realm. And in one bid to save her, he had almost sacrificed everything she held dear. He would find another way to prevent the prophecy. Nuria would not fall under his reign.
I will not fail you or my kingdom again.
***
Tehdra stood in the northern wing of the castle—the haris’ wing. When their party had entered, the women in the harem had paused to watch, some with great curiosity, others with jealousy. Servants led Tehdra and the others through several chambers before reaching a sitting room, where a score of women lingered. Some sat on cushions sipping wine, others played musical instruments; others leisurely picked at a lavish repast while chatting cheerfully to their companions. All were dressed and pampered in a state of constant readiness as if the King were to visit.
A rustle of movement snagged Tehdra’s attention, and servants rushed in the room with a female, who vibrated with fury. She was magnificent, her skin was rosy with a healthy, pink blush, and her hair was a mass of golden ringlets which reached down to her mid back, with light blue eyes. Jeweled, sheer garments draped her slim, graceful form—garments so sheer Tehdra could clearly glimpse the outline of the female’s nipples. She was also adorned in magnificent sapphire set in heavy ornate gold. “Why are they here?!” she demanded, with anger trembling in her voice.
“You will remember your place, Lady Sascha,” the chancellor said. “You do not question whom the King adds as his hari.”
Her face whitened. “King Ajali has no need for others,” she snapped. “You will return them.”
“You overstep, Lady Sascha,” the chancellor growled.
The blond beauty opened her mouth as if to protest, and then closed it with an audible snap. She swept her gaze across them all, coldly assessing. She paused on Tehdra for a lengthy moment. Her eyes flicked on and appraised the other two women at Tehdra’s left, before stopping at a young lady Tehdra had considered a Nubian goddess. Tehdra surmised that King Ajali would be so busy with the goddess; he would hardly spare her a thought, leaving her free to start her investigations without fearing he would want to bed her. Tehdra froze. What if he bedded several of his concubines at the same time?
The large doors to the sitting room flung open and in strode the king. Her heart crawled its way up to her throat and lodged itself there.
The man was magnificent.
Waves of energy simmered in the air around him, and such power could have only been earned on bloody battle fields. She glanced at the sheathed swords on both sides of his thighs. Chains coiled around the handles of the swords.
Curious.
He was richly garbed in black trousers and a dark grey silken shirt and boots. Her eyes devoured him, his muscled frame, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the brilliance of his eyes, his shoulders that rippled with each movement. At six feet and five inches, he was lithe and graceful, yet somehow predatory. His hair, the most fascinating mixture of honey and dark brown, had been plaited into hundreds of locks that tumbled down his back. The contrast of forest green eyes, honey and brown hair against olive skin made him stunning. He reminded her of the jagyuars, great cats that were unique to the Mevians.
A keen sense of loss ripped through her. Even when her directives were fulfilled she would never be able to claim King Ajali as her mate, the next half of her soul. She would eventually hunger to know him, but to approach him would be unthinkable. She belonged to the darkness—reviled for the viciousness buried inside of her, and he was the king of a great kingdom.
***
Ajali observed Lady Sascha’s bowed head curiously. Uriah was probably right; she thought she ruled the harem because he had preferred fucking her. She had a lush body, and she used her mouth with wicked heat and hotness, but it was her mind, her razor sharp intelligence that drew him. He sighed internally; he did not have time for this nonsense. His oracle predicted war and death for his people, and his death by a woman, no less. With such a prediction he should be emptying his harem, not adding to his concubines. It was a pity Ruxia had not been able to provide a description of his killer, beyond her hair. “Leave,” he commanded.
Sascha blushed and quickly curtsied. “My king,” she murmured, then hurried from the room.
Ajali observed the ten females. King Valius would have sent him the most beautiful. Ajali ran his gaze leisurely over them. He agreed with Bastien that he needed an outlet for the fire which raged deep inside of him. But Ajali saw none that greatly tempted him. He strode to a brunette with wide tawny gold eyes and lips that looked as if they were made to fit around his cock.
“Your name?”
“Suri, my king.” Her voice was soft and lyrical, yet he remained unmoved.
“Your skills?”
She tilted her head to meet his regard.
“I am skilled with the sword and I control two shenkiris—earth and water. I have trained extensively for years. I speak all the languages of the seven kingdoms, the common language of Amagarie and the languages of Earth.” Her voice droned on until he inclined his head, signaling a stop to the listing of her talents.
He moved on, almost reluctant to continue. He went through the motions and spoke with three more truly ravishing women, yet they left him frustratingly blank. Interest stirred as he stopped in front of the pale-skinned female. Obsidian eyes peeked at him from underneath incredibly long lashes. Midnight hair cascaded to her hips, and her skin was so light and smooth he could see the faint veins that ran along her throat. He took measure of every curve, dip and swell of her body, but couldn’t prevent his scrutiny from returning to her face—the most exquisite thing about her. Ajali was not sure if he could describe her features as beautiful. Her cheekbones were sharp instead of softly rounded like the many women in his harem, with eyes exotically slanted like a serpent’s. Arresting. Her eyes seemed like a bottomless pool of darkness, and something wicked lurked there. He lowered his gaze to her lips. Fuck. So full and sensual. She was splendid, and somehow he knew she was dangerous.
Awareness hummed through him, and for the first time in weeks his cock stirred. Though the tallest of the group, she still had to tilt her head to meet his eyes. And she did so boldly.
“Your name?”
“Tehdra, my king,” she said.
The huskiness of her voice caused desire to pulse through him. She seemed lithe and fragile, but his instincts flared to life, warning that the appearance was a façade.
Curiosity rushed through him. “Your skills?”
He arched his brow as the pulse at her throat fluttered.
“I was chosen for my beauty.”
Ajali became motionless. Even his high chancellor twitched, then stilled.
Dangerous indeed. “Your beauty?” All knew he only added useful women to his harem. His criteria were simple and understood by the realms. Most came to him as virgins even though it was not one of his requirements. They should be beautiful, intelligent and possess enough skill to defend his castle and themselves if they were ever laid siege. His haris’ purpose was even simpler. They served him in all capacities—in and out of bed.
“I am trained
in basic taijiu, I speak three of the languages of the seven kingdoms,” she said after a slight pause.
“Are you trained in the sensual arts?”
A quick frown chased her features. “Which ones?”
“All of them. Rousing me with your touch, enslaving me to the glide of your tongue, and then fucking me until I am replete.”
Amusement wafted through Ajali as a blush graced her skin. She tilted her head, and the elegant slope of her neck beckoned to be nibbled.
“Yes.”
Lie. Those who came to him trained were incapable of blushing.
This was not the first time an unskilled hari had been presented to Ajali. Many lower families hoped to raise their esteem and wealth by having their daughters in his harem, and he had denied all such requests. Beauty alone was useless to him.
“Your village?”
“I am from Balian; a small village located southwest the city of Ariate. My father’s house would be greatly elevated if one of his daughters joined your harem, and I’ve been groomed for such an opportunity for years,” she said with an intriguing lilt to her voice.
Ajali contemplated her, assessing her veracity. She displayed no anxiety, but was watchful with an air of danger that prickled along his skin. And there was the anomaly. Who was she? She was not quite what she seemed. Of that he was fairly certain. Was she only an untrained hari or something more?
He made to move on and in error looked into her eyes. He fell hard into a web of beguiling carnality. The lust that punched him deep inside rocked him back on his heels. And then her lips curved slightly…as if daring him. His cock flexed and hardened in a rush of fierce desire.
He ruthlessly restrained the sudden hunger. He was never reckless, and with a mere stare she tempted him to draw her into his chambers and slake the desire. Though she was the first woman to have his cock twitching with such eagerness in months, he could not ignore the soft warnings stirring in his gut. “Follow me,” he commanded.
He indicated to Bastien he would add the women to his harem. Ajali would be meeting with several high chancellors and kings in the coming months to cement alliances, and assess the other realms’ preparation for war. It would be beneficial to travel with fresh beauties to court. His harem was fabled, and many high lords vied for the right to simply dine with one of his concubines.
Bastien’s gaze flicked to Tehdra, and Ajali read the question as to what he would do with her. He smiled his answer and chuckled at the disapproval that flared in his chancellor’s eyes. He stalked from the sitting room with Tehdra following.
***
She had failed in her research.
All of the women the king had spoken with had rattled off skills as if they were trying to join his warrior caste. Disbelief had gripped Tehdra when he had told the Nubian goddess that he would want a demonstration of her skills later, after she’d prattled so proudly that in her village, she was unmatched in taijiu. Nothing in the extensive parchment Bylan had given Tehdra indicated this. She was unprepared for all that a hari should have to offer. She had truly believed he only added women to his harem so he could bed them whenever he pleased. There had been no whispers that his concubines ever served other purposes.
Tehdra had coldly calculated what to admit about her skills. She had no elements that she wielded like the many they spouted—water, earth, and lightning. She could not say darkness and shadows. Death or imprisonment would have been delivered instantly. She could not say taijiu either. If he required a demonstration, her prowess and speed when she used the shadows to fight would be unmatched. She would be discovered immediately.
She had no idea how to move without the shadows for speed. Such concentration would be impossible, trying to remind herself not to execute something that she had been doing from the time she was a babe.
She gritted her teeth. How hard could it be? Simply fight and stay alert enough not to use the shadows to her advantage. Somehow she must find the means of enticing the king. Tehdra lengthened her stride to keep up with his pace. They passed dozens of women who curtsied and smiled at him invitingly.
They climbed winding stairs and swept into a large chamber. It was tastefully furnished with several elegant great chairs and divans strewn randomly about, and silky, colorful tapestries lined marble walls with exquisitely crafted, gold inlays. Her feet sank into the plush carpet.
The King sprawled indolently into a great chair. “Undress.”
She couldn’t have heard him correctly. She had expected some hard questions. Not this. “I—”
“Remove the caftan.”
He was most assuredly serious.
Her hands trembled slightly as she drew the string that held the flimsy garment together and stepped from it, naked. Heat climbed her neck, and she gritted her teeth, burying the sudden nerves that erupted through her body.
A soft hiss slipped from him, and her blush deepened at the fire that flared in his emerald gaze. Tehdra swallowed tightly, she never thought he would try and bed her so soon. She did not know if she would allow him such liberties, but to resist would certainly raise his suspicions. She had never been impulsive in her life, yet it seemed as if her plan to join his harem would prove to be foolhardy.
“Come here,” he said, penetrating eyes assessing her every move and expression.
She was attracted to the raw power and sensuality that rolled off him and it beckoned to her like nothing else ever had. But this, so soon and without knowing the manner of man he was…it was unsettling.
The tyrant of Amagarie. The name that had followed him since the last Great War.
Tehdra glided closer and stopped between his sprawled legs. “I never thought I would be bedded this soon,” she said, attempting to assess his intentions.
His decadent lips quirked in a smile. “And what expectations did you have when you vied to join my harem?”
His tone was flat, devoid of all interest and emotions, so at odds with the raging hunger she spied in his eyes. His control was admirable.
“Maybe I expected conversation…before I was required to fuck you to repletion.” Her voice came out husky, not the confident blasé tone she had been aiming for. She gritted her teeth in annoyance.
“Most extraordinary,” he said softly. “You are without any skills to serve in my diplomatic corps hari…. What use could I have for you then, if not to be on your knees for me whenever I commanded?”
Be on her knees whenever he commanded? The slow thud of her heart as heat stirred low in her womb was distressing. She was a warrior elite, not a concubine. She should not be captivated by the wicked intent that leaked from his words. What had she been thinking? Surely there must be another way to complete her mission.
No, there is not. The castle Shelah is otherwise impenetrable.
Her eyes followed the hand that lifted and traced the curve of her breast with a fingertip. Her stomach quivered as anticipation and something akin to dread danced down her spine. She ached for a firmer touch. Should a simple caress be so incendiary? If her beast had not screamed mate at his scent, she would not be standing so calmly in front of him, allowing privileges she’d never granted another man. She dug deep and tried to find the essence of her darkness and came up blank.
She moaned when he reached down and glided his hands over her calves and massaged. Silky smoothness ran over the arches of her feet, the insides of her shin and to her thighs. He gently heated his palms with his fire as he explored her. The breath lodged in her throat and her sex throbbed.
“Can you fight at all, hari?”
“No, my father has never been able to afford a master for his daughters.”
A credible deception.
Her body relaxed, and she swayed into him. She purred deep in her throat as what could only be desire weakened her limbs. It was warm and languid. He turned her around. She bit her bottom lip and shivered at the w
et trail of his tongue at the globe of her ass. He brushed her hair from her hips, and stung her flesh with soft, sensuous nips to her mid-back. Oh.
He tugged, and she stumbled into his lap.
Reaching around her hip, he raised her leg and draped it over his knee. She felt vulnerable and exposed when he repeated the motion with her other foot so that she sat on his thighs, splayed wide.
“You tempt me when no other has done so in months.”
The deep rasp of his voice sent pleasure through her.
“So I do have a use.”
“Distraction?”
Tehdra heard the unspoken danger. “More like appeasement.”
He shifted her tresses on her back, and she tensed. The thick, silky length hid her Cerja, and if he were to drape her hair over her shoulder, she would have no explanation. She relaxed slightly when he simply sifted the curtain of strands through his long fingers.
He tightened his arm around her waist and jerked, flushing her back to his chest.
“Let’s see how sensual you are.”
Tehdra moaned at the rough murmur at her nape.
Slight sweat slicked her skin from the heat that leapt from his palm as he cupped her breast with gentle pressure. She arched into his touch, and he rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. Tehdra sighed at the exquisite pleasure. Arousal flared to life within her, her pussy slicked with moisture, her breasts swelling in desire.
He trailed a finger down her stomach, where he lightly skimmed her slit.
Tehdra tensed in anticipation. He slowly stroked one hand down her stomach, and skipping her aching sex, caressed her thighs. Each time he came close to her core, she tensed, and he retreated. He did it over and over until she started to subtly writhe in his lap.
“Touch me,” she demanded, need shivering through her, and the flesh between her legs started to throb.
He chuckled, smoothing his hand between her legs and cupping her with firm pressure. She hissed, pleasure licking at her skin as he ground the heel of his palm above her nub. Her clitoris was swollen, so large and sensitive she gasped as he circled it, then pinched.
