She had to wonder if they spanked as a customary means to gain compliance? Sure, their men were bigger and stronger, but she’d seen pictures of their females, none appeared to be docile, delicate flowers. She couldn’t believe Voltarrean women put up with that.
His arrogance in assuming he had the right to correct her in any fashion further spurred her indignation. As an adult, she would not be treated like a child. She was about to say so when his eyes locked on hers.
“You can test me and learn what I mean by consequences, but I don’t advise it.”
Arrogant, and intimidating, the steely arms holding her and the determined glint in his gaze made her bite back the defiant protest on the tip of her tongue. Her position with him during her brief stay, whether as prisoner or guest, was precarious. But as her thoughts returned to the matter that brought her here, on his ship, in his hold, with her bottom in certain jeopardy if she didn’t obey the Voltarrean warlord, and his firm resolve to find answers to who or what was behind this, she wondered how brief.
Before she could press him about it, they arrived at the medical wing. A man in white rushed forward as they entered. Like his leader, he wore a grim expression on his face.
“There you are, Your Highness. I was about to call security to do a sweep.”
“Whatever for?”
“Because you’re due for more medication and because you left when I’ve yet to release you.” He glanced at his leader and gestured for him to follow. “Bring her on back.”
He didn’t wait to see if they adhered to his dictate but rushed down the corridor and disappeared inside a room.
She turned questioning eyes up to Darios.
“That was Crynar, your physician. Here, in the infirmary, his word is law. Even I don’t dare question it and, from the sound of that cough and wheezing, you should have stayed put as I ordered. He’ll have something to say about that, too.”
He stared at her pointedly until she averted her gaze.
When he carried her back to the room she’d been in before, the physician stepped aside as he laid her on the bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow and Darios moved away, he was beside her, activating controls on a clear screen suspended from the ceiling. She didn’t recall it being there when she awoke.
The older man frowned, scolding her as he worked. “The smoke alone was damaging, but the heat activated chemicals and other...impurities. You need several more treatments to remove the contaminants from your lungs.”
“What type of contaminants?”
“Criminals rarely take the time or are unwilling to spend their ill-gotten gains on routine maintenance,” the warlord explained grimly. “If they have a compromised hull or leaky seals, they pick up radiation and other toxins from space. The slavers’ barge wasn’t in good shape before we engaged with them, and my guess is the Ophig’s ship wasn’t much better.”
“Radiation can’t be good,” she muttered, her worried gaze shifting to the healer. “And can’t space toxins cause a host of illnesses, some severe?”
“That’s what we’re trying to avoid with the medicine,” he answered meaningfully as he settled the dreaded mask in place.
“Is this necessary? I feel fine.” Except her claim lost credibility when she coughed harshly.
“It is my job to know what is best for you, young woman. You’ll have to trust in me and do as you’re told if you wish to get well.”
His tone reminded her of her father during one of his frequent papa-knows-best lectures, thinking his abundance of testosterone made him right all the time like most men of her acquaintance.
“I’ve set a scan to run to determine if her little escapade caused a setback. While I fetch some supplies, I’d appreciate your assistance, my lord, in seeing she stays put this time.” Again, he dashed off, expecting rather than waiting for Darios’ agreement.
“Crynar tends to insist, too,” the warlord observed, amusement in his voice. “Be assured despite his less than sunny disposition he is a skilled healer, and his patients’ best interests are his priority. You can trust him to know what’s best.”
Far from home, with no way to get back, and, even if she only admitted it to herself, not feeling her best, she had no choice other than do as they bid. As another coughing spell took hold, this one nowhere close to the severity of the last, thank goodness, Aurelia gave in and nodded her acceptance.
Once it had passed, Darios readjusted the breathing mask over her nose and mouth then, with his hands planted in the mattress on either side of her hips, he leaned over her. “Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Good. While I don’t like to be harsh while you are ill, we need to get something clear. You mentioned you aren’t used to being told what to do.” His tone contained an unmistakable warning. “I, on the other hand, am unaccustomed to being disobeyed.”
She could feel her face heat under the coolness of the air blowing from the mask.
“Do I need to post a guard to ensure you do as Crynar orders, including remaining in this bed until he says you can get up?”
“No. The idea of impurities and radiation are frightening, so was coughing until I couldn’t catch my breath.” She closed her eyes. “It reminded me of being trapped in the cage with the smoke and fire swirling around. I couldn’t stop coughing then, either, and thought for certain I would die.”
His gaze swept over her cheeks, taking in the tears she hadn’t known until then she’d shed. “You’re safe now, Princess, and you’ll recover quickly under Crynar’s care.”
“I won’t get up again. I promise.”
He nodded his approval. “You can rely on me to do what’s best for you as well. Trust me when I say I will have no reservations about taking you over my knee and paddling your misbehaving butt if I find you wandering around again before the healer has cleared you. Is that understood?”
She stiffened, having trouble meeting his gaze as she replied with both indignation and embarrassment. “I am not a child, Lord Darios.”
“I’ve held your naked body in my arms. The fact you’re a woman is burned in my memory for eternity. Except I must dispel your belief that a paddling is reserved solely for a disobedient child. On Voltarre, a misbehaving woman might find herself in the same position. You’d do well to remember that.”
“I find that incredibly barbaric, as is your claiming me, which isn’t your right.”
“Not under your laws, maybe, but you’re not on Aeldor. Here we stake a claim on the woman we want and do everything in our power to protect her.”
“Does she have a say in all of this?”
“A Voltarrean woman does, yes.”
“Which I am not. I’m spoils.”
“You were, until I claimed you publicly. As for barbaric, allowing you out of bed while sick and letting you wander around only to become sicker, is what I find barbaric. Your bottom and wounded pride will survive the flat of my hand should it become necessary. Your lungs having the ability to survive a relapse of toxic pneumonia in your weakened state is not a risk I’m willing to take. Are we clear about that?”
When she nodded her reluctant understanding, glaring up at him, a stubborn lock of hair that refused to stay in the tie at her nape along with the others, slid over one cheek. She brushed at it impatiently. It stayed where she put it for half a second then slid down again, this time over her eye.
Amusement tilted his lips upward, which only irritated her more. She pulled out the superior, chin-raised, narrow-eyed princess glare, one she should have perfected by now, but she seldom had use for it. Mostly, she gave it to her father or brother, who only laughed at her, since being haughty was out of character for her, although she’d been known to use it for scaring off a visiting dignitary who thought it might be beneficial to his government’s coffers to woo and marry the wealthy royal daughter of Aziros.
Turning it on Darios didn’t faze him one bit.
Instead, he grinned, and raised his hand to tuck the stray lock behind
her ear. His fingertips grazed the shell softly while the heel of his hand brushed her cheek. His touch sent currents of electricity spreading quickly across her skin. It sparked a wave of chill bumps and didn’t stop there. Her scalp tingled, the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her nipples tightened into hard peaks. Most disconcerting of all, the zing of desire that settled between her legs. As arousing as it was disturbing; she’d never responded to a man like this before.
“You’re very cute when you pout. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“I need to practice haughty in front of my mirror if you think that was a pout. At home, no one at home would have the audacity to call me cute when I’m angry. The same way no one would dare spank me.”
The big man chuckled, and the low, rumbling, wonderful sound intensified the tingle in all her nerve endings and the subsequent dampness that made her shift restlessly.
As if he noticed the response she struggled to hide, he increased the contact. Cupping one side of her head with his big hand, he swept his thumb over her cheek to collect her tears.
“You don’t react to my touch.”
Nothing could be further from the truth. She was experiencing a barrage of emotions—her own.
“I’m finding it difficult to interpret you too, princess. Why is that, do you think?”
She shook her head, uncertain herself.
“Has this happened to you before?”
Still shaking her head, she whispered, “Only with one other—my twin.”
He returned her gaze for several silent moments but didn’t push further. “I will be back for you when we are ready to shuttle down to Voltarre.”
“How long will that be?”
“We will arrive in time for the midday meal.”
“And how long will I be your guest?” she asked, somehow managing not to twist the last word with her skepticism.
“Until I’m satisfied it is safe for you to return.”
“Don’t you think this is an extreme measure? Aeldor is my home.”
“Where you were abducted and almost sold into slavery. Beyond that, I do not want to consider your fate if we hadn’t arrived when we did.”
Neither did she. The realization she could right now be the property of the red devil made her voice shrill when she asked, “Why do you care, Darios?”
He pulled the mask from her face as he leaned closer, his elbows propped on either side of her head. When he replied, his eyes glowed with a golden fire. “Because I don’t believe in coincidence. Three of my own nearly shared the same fate as you. I plan to find out how and why, and who is behind this. Then I intend to make them pay for what you suffered, for every moment of fear, and for the pain you’ve endured, and for every cut, bruise, and cough. Until then, I have claimed you, Aurelia, and will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”
“But why? Not so long ago our people were bitter enemies.”
His head dipped closer until the warmth of his breath brushed her lips. “You know why, Aurelia. Even though you don’t feel it through your gift, I know you can sense we have a connection.”
“I don’t—”
“Do not lie to me,” he warned. “I’m a man. Even without my gift, I know when a woman responds to my touch.”
Face burning with embarrassment that he had read her so easily, she tried to excuse her reaction. “You took me by surprise. I thought it was just me, or a fluke.”
“Tell me this is a fluke,” he growled as he closed the scant distance between them and his lips smothered hers with a fiery kiss that demanded a response.
She gave it, opening her mouth to him without a thought of protest. His tongue swept inside, sending swirls of heated desire coursing through her and eliciting a soft moan from her throat. It became a whimper of disappointment when he pulled away much too soon.
“I must go and prepare for our arrival.”
She bit her lower lip to keep from begging him to stay.
“No,” he murmured as his thumb swept over her mouth, releasing the grip of her teeth. “Such abuse I will not allow.” Lowering his head, he soothed the sting with his tongue before taking her mouth with the utmost tenderness. “Rest well, princess.”
More and more, when he said her title in his deep rumbling voice, it sounded like an endearment, and felt like a warm caress. After one more heated gaze, he settled the breathing mask into place, and left her.
She didn’t know how long she lay there, her body humming with awareness, her lips tasting of him, with the now-familiar warmth his nearness incited racing through her body. When the grouchy healer returned, she hadn’t moved, still staring at the spot where she’d last seen the man who stirred her so completely.
Giving her an imposing look, Crynar attached a cup of liquid to the tubing that led to the hated mask, but she resigned herself to enduring whatever treatments he had in store for her. Nothing could be a fraction as bad as what space contaminants and radiation might have done to her lungs. Darios had called it toxic pneumonia. A shiver raced through her at the thought, and this time around, in keeping with her vow to her warlord, she was a much more compliant patient.
Chapter Six
AS THE TRANSPORT DESCENDED to the planet’s surface, Aurelia stared out over the vista of vivid reds and oranges. The view was stunning but, as they drew nearer to the surface, everything took on a hazy, shimmery appearance. At first, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, like a mirage in the distance. Blinking didn’t dispel the image. After puzzling over it a moment, she realized they were heat waves, something she’d heard of but hadn’t ever seen.
“How hot did you say it gets here?” she asked Darios, who stood beside her, also watching their approach.
“This is our winter, which is about twenty degrees warmer than the average summer day on Aeldor.”
“I’ll roast,” she predicted, already feeling her chest tightening, and the slight wheeze that still persisted tickling the back of her throat.
“Hardly, but it might take some getting used to.” His amused gaze skittered down her body. “What you’re wearing won’t be comfortable for long.”
Aurelia looked down too. Not finding her wardrobe anywhere near as funny as he did, she grimaced. Since the slavers had stripped her naked, and done who knows what with her clothes, she had no choice other than the oversized white medical garb. To say it covered her was an understatement; the sleeves hung past her fingertips, and the rolled-up pants dragged the floor.
She gave his mostly exposed body a sidelong glance, something she’d been trying hard not to do, but was finding next to impossible. When he returned to medical to escort her down to the planet, he’d removed the silver suit that had only hinted at what lie beneath it. In its place he wore a miniscule loincloth, boots, and a long scarlet cape clasped at his neck.
It trailed out behind him as he walked, concealing little. On full glorious display, better than her imagination could have ever conjured up was a broad chest, hard rippled belly, unbelievably muscular thighs, and toned calves. She tried to drag her gaze away, something she obviously hadn’t been successful in doing before now since she could inventory just about every swirling mark and bulging muscle.
The disturbing image of bare-chested women wandering around in similar skimpy attire popped into her head. “What do your women wear?” she blurted out.
“Whatever they choose. Most prefer loose, lightweight sleeveless dresses.”
She couldn’t contain her sigh of relief, earning her a chuckle.
“We’ll see about more appropriate clothing for you once we arrive at my home.”
Going back to scanning the ever-growing new world beneath her feet, she noticed how different it looked from Aeldor. Aside from the colors and the temperature, the landscape was vastly different, with few bodies of water and very few trees. “Where do you live?” she inquired, hoping he wouldn’t say underground,
“In our capital city. There,” he said while pointing toward th
e horizon. “The flags above Suncliff are just coming into view.”
She squinted, trying to follow where he directed. “I don’t see it.”
Darios stepped behind her and, with his arm extended over her shoulder, pointed again. “There,” he advised as she sighted down his long arm and outstretched finger.
Though it wasn’t easy, she tried not to be distracted by his hand cupping her other shoulder, or his powerfully built body brushing her back. And she shouldn’t get used to it because when things were settled and she returned home, it would be like before, without contact, or closeness, or his incredible warmth.
Steeling herself against the sadness that bleak future held, she resumed searching the horizon. Until the sun broke through the clouds, she didn’t spot the stone city atop the towering cliff, then she couldn’t comprehend how she’d missed it. Its imposing presence gleamed in the twin light of the Euphyrion suns. In the center stood a massive stone structure with turrets and towering spires and, above it all, a dozen or more red-and-black flags fluttered in the wind.
“You live in a castle,” Aurelia breathed in awe.
“We prefer the term citadel, but I suppose it does resemble a castle from a distance.”
“It has turrets and spires, and it’s made of...” From the different shades of red in the stone, she guessed, “Is that granite?”
“It’s calisanite. Formed under very high temperatures and pressures, it can withstand four-hundred times more pressure than granite. Due to the many active volcanoes on Voltarre, it is abundant.”
Turning from the panoramic view of his capital city with the chain of towering rust-colored peaks in the distance, she stared up at him in horror. “Your mountains erupt and spew lava?”
“Not all, but many do, but worry not,” he assured her, “none are close by. It’s why we chose to build here.” His fingers squeezed her shoulder as he reminded her, “I promised you’d be safe with me, Aurelia.”
“You did, and I’m sorry to keep questioning you, but it is so different. So—”
“Alien?” he suggested. “My people would be as concerned about a wall of snow swooping down on them from a mountain, or the prospect of their skin freezing from exposure, or having their town buried in several feet of snow while they sleep.”
Claimed by the Warlord Page 8
