A Warlord's Heart

by Michelle Howard

  Vesa stepped closer to him and captured his hands in hers, bringing them to the plump globes. Raasa females had no nipples which had surprised him when he saw her undressed for the first time but it didn’t stop her eyes from closing in pleasure on a sharp inhale when she pressed his hands onto her. Encouraged, Ramar brought their bodies together and lowered his head. That’s when he noticed the small circular red mark on her neck.

  “What is this?” He eased a hand free of her luscious body and tapped a finger along the edges of the bruise.

  Vesa flinched then met his stare boldly. “Maen kissed me.”

  Ramar’s instinct as rage boiled was to shove her away and find the hapfe dung. He knew by the glint in her green eyes that she expected such. Driving back his emotions proved hard but he managed. Ramar smoothed his hands down her tempting body and clasped her hips roughly until her loins fit snug against him. “He will not mark you again. Only I shall have that pleasure. Now, show me your kisses.”

  Vesa snickered but Ramar had no chance to correct her. Soft lips pressed to his and her forked tongue teased at his mouth until his lips parted. He swallowed her moan as their hips rocked together and his hands clenched on her full buttocks. Ramar’s toqa throbbed in need. He wanted release. Now

  “Come with me.” Vesa eased her mouth away, lips damp and moved to her bed. She lay down on her back, legs parted and curled her fingers in his direction.

  As if under a spell, Ramar followed and kneeled over her. Black hair spread about her pillows and her green, diamond-shaped eyes took on a glazed cast.

  ***

  Vesa

  Vesa’s breath stalled at his approach. Ramar’s thick warrior build was as hard as she remembered. Taut muscles defined his chest where the copper discs of his male nipples taunted. Her gaze lingered on the ridges of muscle displayed down his torso, the slight indention of his belly button and then the hairy area of his groin.

  She reached for the firm shaft and caressed it with even strokes that pulled a groan forth. Ramar’s neck arched back as he shifted to perch between her legs while on his knees. Vesa increased the pace of her hand as it slid up and down his length, her thumb pressing on the tip each time.

  Ramar grabbed her wrist. “Too much, Vesa.”

  She twisted her hand and entwined their fingers. Ramar leaned over her, balancing on one hand planted on the bed by her head. With her free hand, Vesa guided him to her waiting entrance. She cried out as Ramar rocked his hips and filled her with a hard thrust. Releasing his hand, she spread her fingers through the black curtain of hair falling about his face.

  Never had Vesa had the chance to touch a grown male’s hair until Ramar. She hadn’t realized the enjoyment to be had in running her fingers through the pitch-black strands. She smoothed a section back only to watch in amazement as it fell forward over his forehead in a sleek wave.

  Ramar’s deep chuckle broke her fascination with the silk sections. “Is it my hair or my toqa that you want?”

  Vesa flushed, realizing he’d stopped moving after he filled her core. “It’s so soft,” she murmured.

  Ramar pulled back and drove forward. “I will make it harder.”

  Vesa jerked at his words then smiled and nipped at his chin in admonishment. Ramar froze and Vesa’s smile fell. Her hands twitched on his shoulders as her heart raced.

  “No,” he said. “Do not change for me. Show me all the ways Raasa share pleasure with one another.”

  “Mmm.” Vesa’s heart swelled at his willingness to let her be herself in the bedroom. “You will not mind?”

  Brown eyes darkened. “I made a mistake before. I am mindful now. Do what you will, sweet Vesa.”

  Vesa blinked away the burning sensation in her eyes and swallowed. She wrapped her legs around him and licked at the salty texture of sweat on his shoulder. The muscles beneath her mouth tensed but Vesa didn’t let it sway her. After another series of kisses, she paused at his throat where a vein beat wildly and bit deep. Her fangs pierced his flesh and Ramar groaned above her.

  The taste of him combined with his shaft buried between her legs was everything Vesa imagined and more. Her venom sacs swelled and pulsed as she released her sakar. His body stiffened as he closed his eyes, lost to the sensations. Brows lowered and mouth parted, Ramar gave a hoarse shout and surged forward, sliding their bodies across her sheets.

  “What have you done, Vesa?” His arms trembled at the sides of her head and his hips pistoned faster. “It burns.”

  Vesa eased away with a slow lick. She kissed along his shoulder and bit again. Over and over, Vesa bit Ramar wherever she could reach. The first bite released her sakar, the others pushed her venom through his system. Reddish bruises formed on his skin immediately giving Vesa a sense of possession. His thrusts lost their steady rhythm and each erratic lunge and pull dragged against her nerve endings. Vesa grew damp and her lower region clenched on him as she began to cry out.

  Nails pricked his skin as she dug deep, moving in time with each of his strokes. Higher and higher the flames built. Overcome with the need to have him experience the same intensity, Vesa raked her nails down his back. Every feature tight, Ramar choked and bit his bottom lip. He opened his eyes to stare down at her as he strained to continue to hold back. For her. Vesa loved him more in this moment than she’d ever loved another.

  “Ramar!” she screamed as her release washed over her.

  He roared and hot streams filled Vesa before he collapsed on top of her. Vesa worked to get her breathing under control but Ramar’s weight pressed into her and left her wheezing.

  “Vesa!” He rolled to the side immediately and ran his hand over her, eyes worried.

  “I’m fine.” Vesa curled into him, loose and languid as she panted. More than fine.

  Ramar settled on the bed and Vesa allowed her hand to glide over his rising chest, her cheek resting on the arm he wrapped around her.

  “This is the way of bed play?”

  Genuine curiosity coated the question. Vesa answered honestly. “Yes.”

  “I was a fool.”

  “Yes,” Vesa agreed.

  Ramar snorted and squeezed her middle. Vesa laughed and patted his chest. “I will fix all your foolish ways.”

  He stiffened beneath her, causing Vesa to lift her head and peer into his eyes. “Ramar?”

  He cupped her face. “Argan once claimed he would willingly be foolish for the woman who owned his heart. I understand now of what he spoke.”

  Vesa twitched in his arms and licked her lips, gaze intent on the brown eyes staring down at her. The peace of their pleasure faded, leaving her bereft as she concentrated on the meaning behind his words. “What are you saying, Warlord?”

  “I believe you know my heart, Vesa.”

  Blessed One. She turned completely on her side and sat up. “You care for me?”

  He tucked her tangled hair behind her ear. “Vaan and Balal say Raasa prefer the term love.”

  “You love me?”

  His lips quirked and Vesa smacked his chest. When that only produced a barked laugh, she reached up and yanked on his tousled hair. “Are you telling me you love me?”

  Ramar eased up, propping his back along her head board. The covers slid around his hips hiding the male part of him. She stared overlong at the rising bulge before forcing her attention back to their conversation. Vesa didn’t care how her voice quivered. “Ramar?”

  “I have loved you from the first time I held you in my arms but did not understand the feeling.”

  “You spoke truth then. You are a fool!” She dove forward, arms around his neck, confident he’d catch her.

  When Ramar wrapped his arms around her, Vesa closed her eyes and settled her weight against him. “I love you, stubborn Warlord.”

  Ramar tipped her face up and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was short yet sweet because of his awkwardness with the gesture as he pulled away. “I stand by my vow to sleep with you tonight but I must speak with Vaan to make sure all is wel
l.”

  With Argan gone, Vaan had named Ramar his new right hand. Vesa reluctantly moved to the side as he climbed from the bed and began dressing. Despite his words, fear attempted to take hold. Her heart clattered around in her chest and the emotions overwhelmed enough that the question escaped before she could think better of it. “You really love me?”

  Ramar paused in buckling his sword about his chest. His brown eyes blasted heat across the length of the bed, proclaiming his feelings. Then he came near and braced one knee on the sheets and touched her nose. “I love you, Vesa.”

  She relaxed and smiled. As soon as Ramar left, she curled into the sheets heavy with his scent and dozed. Her day dream centered around the Warlord and the kisses she planned to claim when he returned. Vesa had just reached the fatigue that signaled deep sleep when an alarm sounded. All musings disappeared as she jerked upright. Footsteps thudded outside her door. Vesa leaped from the bed and used a cloth and bowl of water to clean herself then frantically tugged on her wrinkled dress.

  Panic governing her every move, Vesa fled to the lower level. Each drill Vaan had gone over in case of an emergency ran through her mind and Vesa instinctively looked for Erana and Arane as soon as she entered the dining hall. The few Warlords lingering in the room jumped to their feet. Plates fell and shattered on the floor. Raasa and Kabanian alike raced toward the main door. Something hard slammed into her from behind. Rough calloused hands cupped Vesa’s elbows and caught her before she hit the floor.

  “Are you well?” Warlord Hanson asked, dark eyes anxiously going over her.

  Vesa barely managed a nod before he took off following the others outside. She grabbed the sides of her dress and headed after him. Outside Serel stood on the walkway atop the gate and blew into the horn again. Below, Tolan worked the gates, lifting the bar that kept others from entering the compound without permission.

  Chapter 9

  When the alarm sounded, Vaan froze. Ramar broke off what he was saying mid-sentence. Vaan waited to see if the alarm was in error but again the horn blew and his blood chilled. Ramar exploded into action and left. Jumping to his feet, Vaan burst through his office door right behind him, unmindful of who he knocked aside in his haste. He scanned the dining hall, searching specifically for two of his Warlords. Their absence in the melee sent his heart thudding against his chest.

  Vaan darted through the Raasa gathering around in fear and shoved a few more from his path. When he lunged through the main front door, his Warlords outside shouted and pointed. Vaan scanned the horizon and their surroundings for danger. Nothing caught his eyes. His gaze traveled to the gate as he leaped down the stone stairs, hitting the ground in a crouch before straightening.

  Ramar came up behind Vaan, sword in hand. Fear pulsed in beats filling Vaan’s blood with dread. He had to concentrate to ask Ramar, “Where are Balal and Amrod?”

  Let them be somewhere within the safety of the home he’d fortified.

  “Kiel said they were last seen going to the stables with the youngling, Sire.”

  The only flaw in Mikayla’s father’s design was the hapfe stables. They were located on the outside of the gate that surrounded the Raasa compound. Vaan studied the elaborate structure his mate spent a large sum of money keeping up to date for the animals that meant a great deal to her. Perhaps he worried for naught. But the alarms had signaled intruders.

  Vaan faced Ramar and dragged in a deep breath. “We will check the stables.”

  A loud boom vibrated on the air. Vaan jerked his head back around. Flames shot from the red tiled roof as the stable caught fire then the empty pen next to it. Horror morphed into agony, ripping apart what little composure he’d maintained. Vaan roared and ran as if his life depended on it. His Warlords fell in step behind him and he heard bits and pieces of their shouted speech.

  “Fire hashi.”

  “The Raasa say they saw riders leaving.”

  “No warning.”

  Every nerve stood on end. All of their words meaningless. Tolan had the bar up as Vaan blazed through, feet pounding. He cut across the distance to the single building, the spreading fire acting as a beacon as he lunged through the wooden double doors, banging them back on their hinges and withdrew his sword. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Vaan came to a halt and raised his palm, gasping for breath. His Warlords stopped behind him. The acrid odor of smoke billowed out. The crumpled body of Wessel, the stable master, partly blocked the entrance.

  His youngling. Where were his youngling?

  Vaan charged forth, yelling behind him, “Sulon, check Wessel.”

  Sweat beaded on his brow and the knot in his throat would not loosen. Vaan stormed deeper into the stables, choking on the pungent air. The hapfe trumpeted in agitation and kicked at their stalls. They shook their manes as he passed by, thudding paws against the doors in a bid for freedom. Vaan managed to flick the latch on each door, releasing them as he ran past. The floor shook as they stampeded by.

  When he reached to the fifth stall, the coppery scent of blood reached his nostrils. Vaan’s very breath froze in his throat as he raced forward to kneel by the still body of Amrod. His Warlord’s chest moved, the coccar armor gleaming brightly in a sheen of green. Blood seeped from his temple and matted his hair. “Hanson, see to Amrod.”

  Vaan rose to his feet. Fire licked at the walls, piles of straw adding speed to the blaze. He couldn’t delay. His mind had one goal, one focus only and it was for his youngling. He neared the rear of the stables where the equipment was housed on racks and where Balal had obviously chosen to defend his youngling. Blessed One. Vaan almost crumpled at the sight that greeted him. His Warlord lay slumped sideways against the back wall, sword clenched tight in bloody fingers. Two unknown dead warriors lay in pools of blood across from him. No Erana or Arane.

  Vaan’s gaze searched the area, desperate for any sign of his youngling. Their absence drilled a hole in his chest and he threw back his head and roared out his pain. He fought back tears refusing to give in to the weakness. Ramar rushed by him, hands flying over Balal, checking his injuries. Vaan remained standing, every nerve taut as his vision hazed and he descended into Fenal.

  “Find my youngling,” he snarled to the Warlords around him.

  They scattered, performing a more intense search of the burning stable, each of them hoping, praying to the Blessed One for a glimpse of green eyes and tiny fangs.

  Balal’s eyes blinked open. “Sire, Vaan.”

  Vaan inhaled deeply, rage boiling. Ramar hefted a shoulder under Balal’s arm and helped him to his feet. “Speak, Balal.”

  “K-Kabanians,” Balal coughed. “They were…Kabanian warriors who attacked.”

  Vaan screamed again at this blatant betrayal. He forced back the beast driving him to destroy. Kill. He needed to find his enemy first and then not even the Blessed One would have them.

  “The fire, Overlord. We must leave.” Janak attempted to pull Vaan away but he couldn’t move. Would not move.

  Intense pain scoured his heart and his voice cracked. “My youngling, Balal. Where are Arane and Erana?”

  Vaan listened as Balal explained how he’d showed the youngling around. With little warning, at least fifteen raiders snuck in and attacked. He’d hidden the girls in the loft while Amrod held them off.

  Vaan’s heart stuttered as he darted a look at the wooden rafters above. Fire consumed the entire upper area. He staggered back a step. Anguish tore through his chest as he turned toward the lowered ladder.

  “No!” Balal shouted and tears welled in his dark brown eyes. “They came back down to help. To fight.”

  Balal pointed with a shaking arm to the abandoned wooden swords Vaan hadn’t noticed. “The raiders took Arane and Erana. I failed you, Overlord.”

  No. His enemies failed. They had no idea what they’d started. Vaan allowed his Warlords to force him outside. When they were feet away, the structure lit up further as flames crackled and snapped in a final dance, destroying everything it touched.
Water sprayed the area in short bursts.

  Maen, Seffi and the other Raasa worked in coordinated efforts as they pulled on the long levers mounted in the ground to release water from the lines below and within the stables. They could handle the fire. A quick count of the animals milling about confirmed all the hapfe safely out. Vaan didn’t care that the building was lost. He wanted those responsible.

  Breath ragged, he faced the nine Warlords gathered. Soot covered their grim expressions as they waited for vengeance on those who’d dare attack them in such a cowardly manner. “Sulon, Kiel and Janak with me. The rest will stay and defend our home. I go for my youngling.”

  The band of Kabanians couldn’t have gotten far. He promised war and death. Vaan planned to hunt them down and feed them to the tarka wolves. “Mount up. We ride.”

  Janak brought over four jittery hapfe. A limping Wessel snapped out a command that had the prancing animals settled.

  Blood smeared Wessel’s face. He paused to speak to Vaan. “Destroy them, Overlord.”

  A fine tremor ran through Vaan’s frame and he couldn’t respond. Wessel led the rest of the hapfe with a sharp order inside the gate and the courtyard. Vaan mounted and waited with restrained violence for the others. Ramar approached, Vesa at his side, clinging to the warrior’s forearm as tears spilled from her green eyes. Vaan didn’t have time for lengthy explanations. “See to Balal and Amrod. We ride on those who have taken my young.”

  Ramar protested. “I would ride at your back.”

  Vaan shook his head and coughed. “No, I need you here protecting our home in case they return or there are others.”

  Ramar blanched but bowed. Vaan suddenly thought of his mate. Mikayla would be unaware of the dangers present. The skin on his arms pebbled and a wave of intense fear rolled over him until he shook. He needed her home now. “Summon Argan. Tell him I need Mikayla and my men brought home.”