Taken by the Nomadic Warrior

by Izzy Slam

  Taken by the Nomadic Warrior

  Copyright ©2019 Izzy Slam

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction intended for mature readers. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All characters depicted in this story are fictional, not blood related, and are consenting adults over the age of 18 years.

  Description

  Each year, a group of nomadic warriors pass through the town of Garelet Highlands. And rumor has it, the head warrior selects a woman to claim as his very own.

  Sick of her sister’s bitchy ways, Seraphim is bound and determined to ensure her fertile curves stand out to Calum—the strong and handsome warrior. But will her sister’s forward and flirtatious attitude make her more appealing? Or is Seraphim’s innocence enough to satisfy this man’s intense cravings?

  “Seraphim, what are you doing?”

  My sister’s voice is sharp as it cuts through the air. I blot my lips on a tissue, toning down the bright red color, then turn to face her, pulling my long, honey colored hair over my shoulder. “Why do you constantly concern yourself with what I’m doing? Don’t you have other things that demand your attention?”

  Andgelina rolls her eyes. “Yes, in fact. And so do you. I asked you to milk the cows and feed the pigs. And you’re in here,” she flings her hand in the air in a haphazard circle, “making yourself look like a common slut.”

  Gritting my teeth and clenching my fists, I decide it’s best to keep my mouth shut for my own sake. “I know what you asked me to do. I’ve taken care of it.”

  “Oh really? How, pray tell?”

  “Bethany is taking care of the animals.”

  “Bethany?” she snorts.

  “Yes, Bethany. She doesn’t have to make herself look presentable for our arriving guests.”

  Andgelina steps closer to me, her eyes narrowing in frustration. “If you think for one second that you are going to be selected before someone like me, think again, baby sister.”

  “Hmph, we’ll see, won’t we.”

  “Yes. We sure will,” she grits out, steam practically spewing from her ears.

  Relieved she didn’t push me into a full-blown argument, I sit down at my vanity after she storms off, returning to brushing my hair and trying different techniques to make it curl just so, and my cheeks to turn just the right shade of pink.

  My sister has always had an angry streak, but this hatred for me is jealousy, plain and simple. Even before our parents were killed by the enemy tribe—the Chuathas—Andgelina did everything in her power to make my life a living hell, from forcing me to eat the food she didn’t like, all the way to stealing the flowers I would pluck from the fields and pouring hot stock over the petals, killing them instantly.

  Several years ago, after we had been living on our own in the simple cabin where my parents were slaughtered as we lay hiding under the bed, trembling like babes, we were invited to join a tribe of land dwellers who lived a half a day away. The tribe itself is all female, the inhabitants whose ages range from sixteen all the way to sixty. We take care of one another, learn from each other, and if it weren’t for my sister, I’d probably not want to leave.

  Well, that isn’t exactly true. I have taken notice of my body and how it’s changed over the last few months, with blooming breasts and blossoming hips, a thick, light thatch of hair forming between my legs, and an ache that can only be quelled by a man.

  Each summer, a group of nomads from the furthest corners of the earth pass through these lands in their search for fresh, fertile land, stopping at different villages along the way to rest their heads, get a bite to eat, and maybe (some say) indulge in their animalistic urges.

  I’ve also overheard my sister speaking to some of the other villagers, saying that the head warrior chooses a woman to take with him when he leaves, and that she wants to be the chosen one. It’s also a well known legend that if you aren’t with a man by the time you are in your third decade of life, you will die an old spinster.

  Andgelina has been on this earth for twenty-five years, but I was born into the world seven years after her, making me a full eighteen years of age now. I am mature, and I am ready both in body and mind. And as it would happen, word has spread that one of the groups of nomads will be coming through our village sometime this afternoon which is precisely why I asked Bethany to take care of the animals. I can’t allow myself to be bent over a cow’s teat or cleaning pig muck when they arrive. I’d be covered in soil and smell wretched.

  And speaking of my body, it’s more feminine than Andgelina’s, having curves and long hair which is why she is so jealous of me, I’m sure. Andgelina doesn’t eat much, and she spends a great deal of time indoors, teaching the children how to read and sew. An honorable duty indeed. But I enjoy spending time outside, tending the vegetable garden as well as the animals. I also have a hearty appetite and make it a daily habit to help myself to the leftover cheeses, breads, and butter.

  I’m not husky, or even rotund, just full-figured. I have enough to grab onto and then some. And oh how I fantasize daily about a man grabbing onto me, and it makes me so hot and wet I can feel the juices of my desire coating my inner thighs.

  And now that I know the nomads are coming through today, I want to be prepared. Because I’ll be damned if I let my sister go away with a man. Maybe if she had been nicer to me I would consider encouraging her to look her best. But as it stands, it looks as though my sister will be living a life as a spinster.

  After getting my hair curled to perfection, I choose a simple dress that hugs my hips but falls softly all the way to my feet. It’s also a little tight in the bosom, but not so tight that I look like a common slut, as my sister so eloquently put it. It’s pale yellow in color so as not to draw too much attention because I want to be noticed for subtlety and for my natural beauty.

  As I shuffle across the room, the wooden floors creak as I slide into some slippers that can be worn outside. And when I hear the thundering of horse hooves, my heart nearly beats out of my chest.

  I run to the kitchen of the home I share with four other women and lift the tray from the counter, removing a small towel from the top. I’d wanted to keep the dried meats and cheeses protected from the flies, and the biscuits that sit next to them still look as fresh as when they were pulled from the oven. If this doesn’t win the head warrior’s heart, I don’t know what will.

  I take the tray of food outside, shielding my face from the sun, when I see a group of seven or eight men on horseback coming over the top of the hill. I walk in their direction as the other women in the village come out of their homes. I’m sure many of them want the same thing I do. Including my sister who is immediately at my side.

  “It figures you would have food. You’re quite the little pig, aren’t you?”

  I bite my lip at her harsh words. Any other time that might hurt my feelings, but right now, I’m confident in my comely curves.

  As they get closer, my eyes scan them, one at a time. There’s a redhead, and several fair-skinned blonds like me. But the one at the head of the group has dark tousled hair, broad shoulders, and tanned skin. His chest is a rippled mass of muscles, a single leather vest draped over his shoulders and covering his pecs. A
long sword rests in a sleeve at his side.

  The thumping of the horses’ hooves along the ground make me tremble, but it is nothing like the way my body responds to his presence when he stops in front of me, his men in a triangular formation behind him.

  “Oh my,” Andgelina whispers, wrapping her fingers around my upper arm. I turn to look at her and nearly lose my sanity when I see that she’s wearing something more suggestive than I am: a see-through skirt and top that shows every part of her breasts, save the nipples. There’s not much there, but what is there is on full view for everyone.

  His eyes sweep quickly to Andgelina and then meet my gaze.

  “Ladies,” he greets, tossing the reins over one side of his horse. “I am Calum, and these are my men.”

  The women of my village mumble a hello, but he keeps his gaze on me and my sister.

  “Welcome to Garelet Highlands, sir. I trust you brought an appetite?”

  I hold up the tray of food and walk in his direction. His horse kicks the ground and jerks his head back.

  “Easy,” he sooths, pulling the reins tighter. “Is that for us, my lady?”

  “It is. I prepared it all myself. There should be enough for you and your men.”

  He tosses a look over his shoulder, quietly scanning his men before turning his attention back to us, moving his eyes over everyone here. “And where, pray tell, are the men of Garelet Highlands?”

  “We don’t have any, sir,” Andgelina steps forward and falls to one bended knee. “We have been without men for some time, and we welcome you all with open bosom.”

  My mouth falls open wide enough to catch the rays of the sun. Several women snicker around us, and I hear some of them walk away, their doors closing as if they couldn’t bear to take in whatever scene may unfold.

  “What is your name, lady?”

  “Andgelina, sir,” my sister answers with her head still bowed.

  I don’t know what to expect. But I hope he will be put off by her behavior and tell her to stand up and act like a proper young woman.

  He dismounts the massive horse and removes a biscuit from the tray without even looking at me, but I still take the opportunity to take in his masculine features—strong jawline, haunting green eyes, dark stubble, and delicious scent of sweat and manliness. His chest is streaked with faded scratch marks, and I wonder who, or what, he recently scuffled with.

  After taking a single bite, he pauses and looked at me. “You made these?”

  I smile, not at the question itself but the fact that my sister is still kneeling on the ground with her head bowed and he hasn’t even acknowledged her. “Yes, sir, I did.”

  He lifts a brow and removes a hunk of dried pork, eating it right away. “Delicious,” he mutters, keeping his eyes on me.

  In an instant, my sister stands up and bunches her fists at her sides. “She is a liar, sir! I made everything on that tray! She … she brought it out here before I had the opportunity to offer it to you myself.”

  Once again, I’m stunned at my sister’s behavior. But also, not stunned. Not at all.

  “Is this true?” he asks me.

  It’s a real struggle to not swing a fist at her face right now. “No, it isn’t. My sister cannot cook. She’s a teacher for the children, quite adept at making and mending garments, and reading, but cooking, well, not so much.”

  And with that, Andgelina spits in my face, saliva flying across my face and landing on my lips, nose, and into both eyes. I stumble backwards, and the tray goes with me, sending the food falling to the ground. I hear the other women around me gasp, and when I manage to wipe her disgusting spit from my eyes, I can see her standing by me, her face red with anger and her chest rising and falling in a fit of rage.

  “How dare you,” I grit out.

  “I apologize,” Calum says, taking Andgelina by the arm. “We are not here to cause trouble.”

  “Dear Calum,” she says, her voice softening as she turns to face him. “You, sir, are not the one causing trouble. My sister here has had it out for me since exiting our mother’s womb eighteen years ago. But rest assured, she is no match for me and the things I can do for a man such as you.”

  I want to wretch watching her trail a finger down the front of Calum’s chest. And apparently some of my female villagers are equally disgusted because half of them disappear, leaving just five or six to witness the horrific show that’s unfolding before my very eyes.

  “You have pleased a man before?” he asks.

  Oh dear. This could be a test. The test. I know for a fact my sister is as innocent as the day is long, just like myself. If she lies and says she has pleased a man, he might be impressed. But he also might toss her aside like garbage.

  Batting her eyes and pressing her chest to his, Andgelina parts her lips and presses them to his ear, whispering some secrets I may never know. Calum’s eyes grow wide, and he swings his gaze in my direction.

  I bite my lower lip and knit my brow, already giddy from the way he makes me feel, from head to toe. How is that possible?

  And what in the world is she telling him?

  After Andgelina pulls away from him, he holds her at arm’s length and looks her up and down like a freshly hung carcass. Then he instructs her to spin around, rubbing his chin as he moves his gaze over her body. Jealous sparks burn my insides, but I feel a loss of control that makes me angrier.

  “I believe you will do, lady Andgelina. We will set up camp here for the night and leave first thing in the morning. Gather your things immediately.”

  My sister turns to me, flashing an evil grin. And I have no words.

  She is getting her wish, and I will be left here alone.

  To die a lonely, old spinster.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Calum and his men leave with my sister once she packs a few simple dresses. She doesn’t even come to me to say goodbye, Not that I care. She’s a witch born straight from a demon. I don’t even believe she and I share the same blood.

  From my bedroom window, I can see that Calum and his men have set up tents in the grassy field, a fire spitting tall flames as some of them gather around. As dusk sets in, I take in the men’s silhouettes, wondering if Calum is one of them or if he is already having his way with my sister.

  Some of my housemates come by to offer me solace, but I tell them I just want to be alone. But I’d rather not be alone. I’d prefer to be with him.

  I take off my dress and slip under the scratchy sheets of my single bed, letting my thighs fall open as I think about Calum and what we would be doing right this moment, if he had chosen me. Bitter feelings of jealousy resurface, and they drive me to touch myself, inserting the tip of one finger inside my tight hole and getting it covered in my slick juices before rubbing that hard but sensitive little nub hiding in my tuft of hair. It takes me a little longer than usual, likely due to the sick feeling of having not been chosen. But I do manage to bring myself to a body shuddering orgasm that reduces me to tears.

  I hate my sister, and I hate everything she does and represents. But right as I drift to sleep, I realize how lucky I suddenly am.

  Because Andgelina is now gone from my life. For good. And for that, I am grateful.

  I don’t know what time it is when I first hear the noise, but I get up and slip into a sheer gown before glancing out of my bedroom window. I can see the embers of the fire, still burning low as black smoke billows up into the sky. I wonder how long the men will stay here, and if any of Calum’s men will leave here with some of my fellow villagers. I know one thing for certain: if they do, they had better leave me be. None of Calum’s fellow nomads stirred any feelings of desire within me.

  “If I can’t have him,” I whisper into the darkness of my room, “I don’t want anyone.”

  “If you can’t have whom?” Calum’s voice startles me.

  I spin around to see him standing in my doorway, his bare chest catching the glow of the moon from my window. “Calum. You’re here.”

  “Yes.
It is me.” He takes several steps in my direction, and I fall backwards, grabbing onto the windowsill.

  “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with my sister?”

  “I don’t want your sister. She is for the others.”

  He steps closer and I shiver as fear and lust collide in my veins. “The others? I don’t understand.”

  “My warriors.”

  “Oh. Is … Is there a war coming?”

  Sliding his hand down the front of his pecs, Calum steps close enough now that the light from outside hits his face. My blood runs hot as I think of how it would feel to have that face between my legs. “There will be if the Chuathas don’t step aside and give us back the land they stole from us.”

  I draw in a sharp breath. “The Chuathas? They killed my parents.”

  His gaze moves over me in one smooth stroke before coming back up to my chest. My nipples prick under the material of my gown, pressing hard against the cotton. “All the more reason to destroy them.”

  My heart hammers inside my chest as he licks his lips. And his former remark finally hits me. “Wait. You said that my sister is for the other warriors? Were you not satisfied with her?”

  Calum chuckles softly. “Not at all. Your sister is a disgraceful human being. She received a thorough spanking and is now fast asleep.”

  “Disgraceful. That is one word to describe her.”

  “She is properly suited for her upcoming role, and she surely seems to enjoy being used by several men at once.”

  My stomach twists and I hug my waist, wanting to retch at the thought of Calum and his men having their way with her, and my sister loving every minute of it. “Well, I suppose you had a good time as well.”

  “Me? I wouldn’t touch that woman with a ten-foot sword. I have eyes for only one.” He reaches forward and tucks some loose curls behind my ear. My legs feel wobbly as pressure builds in my core, an urgent need for Calum nearly swallowing me whole.

  “And who, pray tell, might that be?” I ask, my voice wavering in nerves.

  A smile pulls his lips apart, and his eyes move over my face. “Why, it’s you, my lady. A nomadic warrior such as myself needs a strong woman by his side. And I can see the pain and hardship you’ve had to endure. It must have taken enormous strength to not give up, especially with that horrible sister of yours.”