But he ended it a moment later.
“Rest well, Aurelia,” he murmured against her tingling lips. “I’ll be back in time to escort you to supper.”
Before he released her, he brushed her mouth once more, this kiss soft and gentle, though as stirring as the others. Then, with a bow, and a swirl of his red cape, he turned to leave.
His sudden motion revealed a glimpse of his bare back also covered in an array of intricate markings. She would have loved to peruse them at length. Not only because they enhanced Darios’ masculine beauty, but the practice was foreign to her people, and fascinated her.
Rather than wearing an insignia on a uniform, or a medal, Voltarrean soldiers emblazoned their military accomplishments on their skin. And since his back, arms, chest, and long legs were covered in ink, he had accomplished plenty and had obviously earned the title of warlord.
Aurelia found the adornment extremely arousing. It was on the tip of her tongue to call him back, but the door shut with a soft thump before she found the daring. Another factor keeping her silent—confusion. After twenty-four winters without the first twinge of interest in a man, why could she suddenly think of nothing other than giving herself to Darios. She had to find a way to contain these newfound urges until she figured it out.
Too hyped-up to sleep, she surveyed the room, not once considering lying down on the large comfortable-looking bed. She noted the bookshelf but wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the words. Going onto the balcony in the stifling heat was also out.
Wandering the room, she peeked behind the first door. A bath, yes; it would wash the lingering smell of smoke from her hair and soothe her sore muscles. Perhaps, she could relax enough to lie down afterward. But as she filled the very large tub and set a towel she found within reach, a familiar scent filled the air.
Picking up the bottle of liquid soap that sat on a recessed wall shelf, she sniffed then groaned as she recognized Darios’ clean fresh scent. It lacked a little something, which she guessed was his own special essence, but it reawakened all the feelings she’d been trying to dispel.
Her next course of action—flipping the faucet to cold. She stepped in and sank up to her neck, hoping the chill would counteract the of effects of bathing in his scent. If not, the warlord would surely think her a loose woman at their next encounter when she welcomed him with open arms, lips, and thighs.
Chapter Seven
CLEAN AND SMELLING much better than before her bath, she returned to the main room wrapped in two towels, one for her hair and the other around her body. It was all she had if she didn’t want to put on the dreaded oversized pajama-like medical uniform.
She immediately noticed the closet door was ajar. Certain she’d closed it before entering the bathing room, she peeked inside to make sure whoever opened it wasn’t still there. Aurelia found it empty, except for a silky red robe and several floor-length gowns.
Slipping into the robe, she tied the sash then ran her fingers over the fabric of the dresses, one each in vivid red, creamy ivory, and cool ice-blue. All were lovely, and to her experienced eye quite costly, but she didn’t have the energy to try them on.
Leaving them for later, she switched off the light, found the brush someone had thoughtfully left for her hair, then, doing only minimal detangling, sought the comfort of the high, wide, tempting bed.
Once under the covers, she snuggled into the multitude of pillows and closed her eyes. In a few minutes, they popped open once more. She sat up and threw off the decorative coverlet. A short time later, the thin blanket followed due to the heat in the room.
“If this is winter, I’d spontaneously combust in the summer.”
Lying down again, with only the light linen sheet covering her legs, she drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly.
Her mind and body must have gone into shutdown mode after that because when she opened her eyes next, the room was awash in brilliant red light as the suns, the same ones she saw in the sky at home, though smaller and less intense, had dipped low on the horizon.
Her stomach growled and, expecting Darios at any time, she hopped up and rushed to the closet to get ready.
Now, as she weighed her choice of gowns for dinner with the warlord and his family, she considered the heat. Never had this been a problem for her, and she couldn’t recall ever sleeping in only a robe and one thin sheet. All three options were made of lightweight material, which she was grateful for.
She selected the ivory silk first, but the one-shouldered gown had a daring split up the front. When she tried it on and walked around a bit, her legs were exposed to mid-thigh. Without undergarments, she imagined it could turn embarrassing when she sat down for dinner, or if she passed by an air vent.
The next, in shimmering scarlet, had been designed for a more generously endowed woman. Though lovely, the sleeveless gown with the daringly scooped neckline gaped in front when she bent forward. It would reveal everything from chin to navel, and possibly more if she wasn’t careful.
The last dress, the ice-blue silk, fit perfectly. It had wide straps at the shoulders and plunged to a deep V in both the front and back, but the material hugged her body close and at least it didn’t gap, showing more than she wanted. Like the others, it had a slit in the skirt, and while it only allowed a glimpse of her knee, she still felt exposed.
She understood in the hot climate the need to dress minimally for comfort, but for a girl used to being covered in several layers from head to toe, most of their styles would leave her feeling underdressed. Along with many other strange things in this alien world, it would take getting used to.
A gold and silver belt and matching cuff bracelets had also been provided. She carefully applied the latter to cover the bruises and abrasions left by the slaver’s manacles.
Once she slipped into the golden sandals she found and wound the crisscrossing straps around her ankles, she went to the mirror and assessed herself with a critical eye.
It really was quite lovely, and she felt feminine and alluring wearing it.
Only one problem remained, her hair.
After sleeping on it wet, its tangles had tangles, and the shorter layers around her face stood up at odd angles like she’d gone for a daylong walk in the gusty Northern Sector back home.
Sighing, she picked up the brush and headed to the bed to begin the tedious detangling process.
She was still at it when Darios knocked and entered.
“I’ll be a few more moments,” she said as she tugged at a difficult burr-like knot.
He walked up behind her and took the brush from her hand.
“Let me see what I can do.”
Skeptical, her eyes rose to his head and she took in his short hair, but he said not a word as he deftly and, quite expertly, smoothed the tangles. He didn’t tug or pull like she did and, soon, Aurelia had relaxed under his ministrations.
“No one has done this since my nurse as a child, and before that, my mother. I’d forgotten how good it feels.”
“It’s like silk beneath my hands,” he murmured. “It must have been difficult growing up without a female family member to look out for you.”
“I had my aunt Akira. She’s who I was traveling to see on the day I was taken. She never liked city life, but stayed in town for me after mama passed. When I got older, she went back to her beloved wilderness. I wanted to go along, but Father wouldn’t hear of it. He barely tolerates my frequent treks north since I’ve come of age.” Gazing down at her wrists and the bruises not entirely concealed by the jeweled cuffs, she sighed. “After this, I’ll probably never be allowed back.”
“I’d agree with him, at least until we find out how the Ophigs got past your shields undetected.” He drew the mass of her hair over her shoulders and gave a few more long strokes down the length in back. “There now, all done.”
She turned to face him. “Thank you, my lord.”
He shook his head. “Darios, I insist.”
Shyly, she took his hand a
nd allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Darios,” she echoed softly in reply.
He stood close enough to dip his head for a kiss, and she thought—no, hoped—he would. Raising her hand to his lips, he brushed them lightly across her knuckles, kissing her, but not the way she wanted.
“I doubt if I’ve ever had as beautiful a dining companion before.”
“Thank you, my...uh, Darios.”
He grinned and winked. “You’ll get used to it. Hungry?”
Her heart leapt, not the least offended by what from another she would have found completely patronizing. “Famished,” she replied.
“Let’s go, then.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and led her to the door. “Daryk and Callae are anxious to meet you.”
DINNER TURNED OUT DIFFERENT from how she imagined it. Darios was attentive and quite charming. She expected the other couple to be reserved in the presence of a stranger, especially one from a world with strained relations with their own. But Daryk, who looked a lot like his brother, was quick to smile and had them all laughing, and he doted on his very pregnant wife, something Aurelia found both sweet and amusing from such a big man.
“This is your first child?” Aurelia asked.
“Yes, of three, no more,” Callae replied, while giving her husband a meaningful sidelong glance.
“I want five,” her husband explained, “which means we’re still in negotiations.”
“Let’s see how this one goes; we might be negotiating down, not up.”
Leaning in, Darios told her, in a teasing tone as if the other two couldn’t hear, “I’ve heard this discussing before, on multiple occasions. He started out at eight and has been negotiating down for months. He’d better hope it’s an easy birth, or I have a feeling this will be an only child.”
“It could be twins. That’s like a two for one...sort of...but not quite.” Aurelia, not a mother herself couldn’t say for sure.
When silence fell over the table, she looked up to find them staring at her, as if appalled. “Did I say something wrong?”
“There has never been a set of twins born on Voltarre,” Daryk explained.
Taken aback, she gaped at them. “Atagan, your first overlord, was a twin, yet you never had another set in a millennium? Don’t you find that odd?”
“Yes, but also a blessing.”
Mildly offended, she faced him and asked, “How so?”
“Considering your history, and I mean this as no aspersion on you, but twins have always been at the root of your conflicts.”
She put her fork down. “As a twin, how could I not take offense at that?”
“Neither you nor your brother is in power, so your place in history is as yet unwritten. Your father’s twin committed patricide then tried to frame him for the crime. If your people hadn’t revolted and prevailed, Staviros would be in power, and you would not be sitting here.”
Not liking where the conversation had gone, she reached for her wineglass, but when her fingers trembled visibly, she retreated and put them back in her lap. Darios reached over and gripped her hands. “It’s upsetting, naturally. We’re just saying if such conflicts between twins happen at such a rate in your people, we are not eager to see them replicated in ours.”
“That doesn’t mean Axton and I will follow the same path. We are the first mixed-gender set of royal twins. That alone sets us apart.”
“True,” Callae agreed, leaning forward with a small smile. “You could break the curse. Oh—” Her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “I mean pattern!”
“You think it a curse?” she exclaimed.
“I’m sorry, Princess,” the young woman said in a fluster. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Perhaps we should change the subject,” Daryk suggested.
“Facts are facts,” Darios stated bluntly. “Ignoring them won’t alter the truth. Since the days of Atagan and Auvryd there has only been peace when a twin did not sit on the throne. Therefore, the entire galaxy watches your brother’s rise to power closely.”
“My father sits on the throne and is a twin.”
“Yes, but fate gifted us with the good one this time around. That is usually not the case.”
Auvryd, Dayo, Naphre, Calaphe, Osidarus, and many more, most recently her uncle Staviros, had all had been one of a set of twins to ascend to the throne. Never had it ended well. Horrible things had happened to their siblings during their rule. Some, like her father, had risen up and overthrown the ruling king, but others hadn’t had such luck. Atagan was exiled, others mysteriously died, and her father almost had by his brother’s command.
Aeldor history books had full accountings of the tales but focused on the strengths and heroism of the prevailing king, acting on behalf of his people, not necessarily the underlying jealousy and spite. She’d never thought of it as a curse, only ugly politics, and never dreamed it would affect her and Axton, mostly because her father had made their roles very clear.
She’d never had designs on the throne, ever. In her mind, Axton, and none other was the future king. But a curse... Could it be? And, if such a thing existed, would she have any control over preventing it from coming true.
“Eat, Aurelia,” Darios urged. “We’ll speak of something more pleasant.”
“I’m no longer hungry.”
“There is dessert, made with fresh fruit,” Callae offered. “Something I would say is a rare treat in your world.”
“We have greenhouses and grow fruit in all seasons,” she replied quietly. “I’m tired. It’s been a trying few days since I left home for a pleasure trip to my aunt’s. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go up to bed.”
“I’ll escort you,” Darios said, rising too.
“Oh no, you haven’t finished. I’ll find my way.”
“Doubtful,” he replied. “It usually takes newcomers a month to get their bearings.”
Daryk rose politely, as Callae bade her a polite good night, worry in her kind brown eyes.
The warlord took her arm but didn’t say anything more until they were alone in the hallway. “I apologize for making you uncomfortable at dinner, but we share a past we cannot escape, and it’s painful for both your kind and mine.”
“Has your Ophig prisoner recovered enough for you to interrogate? I’d like to find out who was behind my abduction and ease both our minds.”
“He is still medicated and unresponsive. I became a bit overzealous with the only one who holds the answers, I’m afraid.”
“Since he didn’t handle me gently, its rightly deserved. If I had the strength, I would have strangled him myself, after I put the point of my shoe where it would do permanent damage.”
He winced, as any man would. “Such ferocity, little one; you are even more ruthless than me.”
“There is something about being sold like a chair or a plate that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
“We should discuss something more pleasant. Thoughts such as these at bedtime will not help you rest.”
They arrived at her door. She faced him, feeling suddenly awkward. Another kiss would be welcome, but she wasn’t sure how to let him know. She settled on a softly uttered, “Good night, my lord,” instead.
He caught her hand when she reached for the door latch and pulled her around to face him. Stepping in closer, he caught her chin with his hand and tipped her mouth up to his.
The touch of his lips was delicious and better than any dessert Callae could have planned. When he lingered, warm ribbons of desire wended through her body, stirring responses in her breasts, her belly, and the warm, increasingly wet place between her thighs.
It ended much too soon for her liking when he raised his mouth a fraction.
“I should let you rest. Sweet dreams, Aurelia.”
When he stepped back, she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Wait.” Now she had to find a reason for him to linger, other than the obvious. “I haven’t yet thanked you, for everything.”
“Thanks aren�
�t necessary.”
“But I can’t help thinking where I would be if you hadn’t arrived when you did. And my father will be grateful, too. Though he might have pulled out all his hair while worrying and wondering. Sadly, he doesn’t have much of it left after raising me and my brother.”
He smiled down at her. “As soon as the interference clears, I’ll get you to a communication center where you can set his mind at ease.”
She nodded and opened the door, giving him one last backward glance.
“Good night, then.”
“Good night, princess.”
There it was again. She been called by her title all her life, but only Darios made it feel like a caress. If she were braver and had more experience—check that, any experience—she would have invited him in.
Chapter Eight
AURELIA JUMPED, AND her eyes flew open when a hard voice barked, “Wake up!”
She stared in confusion at the metal bars in front of her.
“Come out of there. You’ve made me wait long enough.”
Icy fear closed around her throat as she realized she was back in the awful cage.
“Now, Aeldorian bitch,” the voice demanded. “I paid dearly to be the first, and I am done waiting.”
Rolling onto her side, a scream built in her throat when she saw the red-horned devil, not Darios, her hero in silver, crouched in the opening staring in at her. With her vocal cords paralyzed in fear like the rest of her, when she opened her mouth, she managed only a raspy denial. “This can’t be real. It isn’t happening.”
“I have a receipt from the Napsalese slavers that says otherwise. No more arguing. You test my patience.” He fingered a coiled whip on his belt. “And you won’t like me if I lose it.”
When she didn’t move, he reached in with a red hand, the skin as scaly as a serpent’s, the nails yellow and filed to sharp points, like claws. Aurelia shrank away from him, but with bars at her back would only allow her to go so far.
She tried throwing a burst of subzero cold his way; it didn’t faze him.
Claimed by the Warlord Page 10
