Claimed by the Warlord

by Maddie Taylor

  “Damn these men and their wars,” Aurelia exclaimed angrily.

  “And some women. We have women warriors, too.”

  “The fire maidens, I’ve heard.” She’d actually read extensively about them, intrigued by the concept of female soldiers in a male-dominated world. “Please say the stories of their heroism aren’t also rumor and conjecture.”

  “No. They are few in number, but you can find tales of their heroic deeds laced throughout our history. Once we get through this, if I’m not under house arrest, and Daryk allows visitors, I’ll explain how it all works.” Callae moved to the door. “For now, we must go.”

  As Aurelia followed her, she didn’t remind her that once this was done, she’d no longer be around to hear those tales. That she may never return to Darios and his world sent a flash of wild grief ripping through her.

  “I need a moment.” Fighting back tears, she rushed to the bedchamber she had shared with him briefly. She closed the door and leaned her forehead against it, eyes closed tight while fighting the pain of losing him before she’d ever really had him. Fate was a cruel bitch to taunt her with a taste of what might have been.

  Drawing in a ragged breath, which did little to lessen the sorrow churning inside her, she turned and took in the room one last time, committing it to memory. Then, she crossed to the bedside table to retrieve what she’d come for—the red stone pendant. Though intending to leave it, things had drastically changed. If she couldn’t deliver on her end of this plan, his gift and her memories might have to sustain her for a lifetime.

  With trembling fingers, and after several attempts, she clasped the delicate chain around her neck.

  “Aurelia! We must go, now.”

  “I’m coming,” she called. On her way back to Callae, she stopped at the door and glanced over her shoulder, one last time.

  Flashes of blue, purple, and red drew her gaze to the glass display case.

  She was sorely tempted to...but did she dare?

  Acting on impulse, she raced back across the room, raised the lid, and carefully removed the ancient Aeldorian crown. Reverently, she ran her thumbs across the cool metal. Then, for the first time since Darios had left her arms early that morning, a smile curved her lips.

  “After this is over, if he wants the dratted thing back, he’ll just have to come to Aeldor and get it.” As she tucked the priceless headpiece inside her loose-fitting dress, she added silently, with any luck, he’ll reclaim me along with it.

  With that hope lingering in her heart, because she wanted it more than anything, she went to join Callae.

  THE LENGTHY DELAY WAITING for the Atagan to be readied had Darios on edge. When Basra came with more bad news, it didn’t sit well with him—at all.

  “What do you mean she’s gone?” he demanded, the sharpness in his tone ringing through the room like steel striking stone. “It hasn’t been long since I left her—under your watch!”

  The shame-faced guard dropped his head and stared at his feet. “I have failed you, my lord. I shall surrender my shield immediately.”

  “We will discuss your shield later,” he bit out, having no intention of letting the big man leave his personal guard. He was his best, despite this peculiar occurrence. And for right now, he didn’t need another distraction today. “Find her. She can’t have left the citadel. Gather a team to search for her.”

  “I have already done so. She is gone...and by that, I mean from Voltarre.”

  His heart dropped like a boulder to the pit of his stomach. “Explain,” he barked.

  “I was relieved from my post to, well...relieve myself. When I returned, I checked on the princess, but she didn’t answer the door and wasn’t inside when I searched or in the private residence. We called in others to search the citadel. This is when we learned from a guard at the gate that two women had recently left the grounds.” He paused, his eyes shooting to Daryk. “One was described as very round.”

  “And no one thought to stop them?” Darios demanded. “Aurelia stands out like a pale pebble in a sea of onyx.”

  “I posed the same question to the guards. Apparently, the women were wearing head scarves and carrying baskets. No one suspected two women on their way to the market. We sent out inquiries to the other sentry stations. A pair matching the same description were spotted on the way to the landing port east of town. Those we questioned saw only the round one returning an hour later.” Basra hung his head. “A Zunari ship departed not long before, bound for Aeldor.”

  Darios closed his eyes, willing himself to stay calm. It took every ounce of control he possessed and, still, his next question was asked between clenched teeth. “Tell me the Zunari ship has been contacted and they are currently on the way back with the princess.”

  His man shook his head sadly. “Communications are still sporadic. They continue to try hailing them even now.”

  “Hellfire and damnation!” Darios roared as he strode toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” his brother called after him.

  “To pursue my bride, of course.”

  “Your bride?” Daryk and Basra repeated at once, both sounding stunned.

  At the door, he paused. This wasn’t how he wanted to spread the news.

  “We affirmed our vows last night,” he told his wide-eyed brother and his guardsman who appeared decidedly greener than a moment ago.

  “And she left you hours later?” Daryk choked out in disbelief.

  “I thought I represented well what affirmation means to us, but I may have gotten distracted.” An understatement, certainly. Aurelia’s sweet lips and soft body were captivating and drove thoughts other than having her from his head.

  “I understand passion for the one meant for you, Darios, but are you certain she’s the one? How could she have spoken vows one moment and left you the next? Was this also a trick, or is it her cold-hearted Aeldorian nature to blame here?”

  He came to the defense of his bride, although Daryk was right, she’d left him—dammit. “She is hardly cold, Brother, far from it, and she doesn’t have an exhaustive understanding of our customs.”

  “A matter you should rectify when you get her back,” Daryk advised, his initial shock quickly becoming outrage on his behalf. “Over your knee with a stout paddle would be my advice.”

  “I feel sick,” Basra muttered. “I haven’t only lost a princess, but my overlord’s affirmed wife. I have failed and will resign my post at once, my lord.”

  “Are you seriously expecting me to hold you accountable because you had to piss?” Darios scoffed. “You left her unguarded, perhaps?”

  “No, sir!”

  “Then castigate the guard who took your place. If anything, your only fault is underestimating her, as did I.”

  Daryk commented, “I suspect the round one with her, my own clever bride, is more to blame.”

  “Where is Callae?” Darios demanded to know.

  “I am here, my lord.”

  When they turned, it was to find Callae standing just inside the door looking tense and miserable. She swayed slightly as she met her husband’s furious gaze.

  Daryk stalked to her side. “Tell me this is a mistake and you didn’t take part in the princess’s escape.”

  Her reply came with a stubborn tilt of her chin. “I didn’t merely take part. I devised it.”

  “For the gods’ sake, why?” he demanded angrily.

  Before she answered, Darios noticed the slight quiver in her lower lip, revealing she wasn’t quite as brave in the face of her husband’s displeasure as she wanted to appear.

  “Because I don’t want our child to be born to a world at war, Daryk, and grow up as we did under constant threat of attack and living in fear. This new conflict is based on mistaken assumptions, lack of communication, and a gods’ bedamned dust storm. To break the peace under these circumstances is absurd.” Her eyes shifted his way when she concluded, “Enduring one thousand summers of war is long enough, don’t you think, my lord?” />
  “Hell’s fire! You sound like Aurelia.”

  “I found her to be an intelligent, levelheaded woman. Is she wrong?”

  “No, little sister, and, as I told your co-conspirator, I will do my best to avoid war, but I did not want to put her at risk by allowing her to return to Aeldor with a murderer on the loose, especially someone close to her, possibly her own brother.”

  She paled, clutching Daryk’s arm for support upon hearing this news. “I didn’t know. She didn’t say.”

  “She doesn’t believe him capable of such a deed, but if not him, it’s another. And with the one who wants her dead still unidentified, this puts her at great risk. Around every corner the murderer could by lying in wait.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord. It might sound selfish, but Aurelia laying the groundwork for peace among our worlds and possibly saving hundreds and thousands of lives, was worth the risk. And she agreed to that, too.”

  “It was not up to you or my bride to decide what risks she takes, Callae. That responsibility falls to me, her husband.”

  “What?” she breathed, turning pallid despite her golden skin tone.

  “They affirmed their vows last night,” Daryk explained.

  The blood drained from her face as she whispered, “Why wouldn’t she have told me that?”

  “She believes the end justifies the means, and the risk. I, however, do not.” He turned to his guardsman who stood by silently observing. “Basra, notify space command that I am ready to leave—now.”

  He bowed and took his leave, but could be heard muttering as he left, “The warlord is ready. I just pray to the gods the Atagan isn’t still in a million tiny pieces and parts.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE PLUSH RECLINING seat and the hum of the engines should have been enough to lull Aurelia to sleep. It was nearly twenty-six hours—a full Aeldorian day—since she’d left the citadel and boarded a homebound ship, and in all that time she hadn’t shut her eyes once. She couldn’t blame the strange ship and bed; they were the least of her worries.

  Foremost in her mind was how Callae had fared in the face of her husband’s fury. Then her thoughts shifted to her father and convincing him that Voltarre had nothing to do with any of this. After eons of distrust, it wouldn’t be easy. She also had to watch her back for the person who wanted her dead. And, swirling around all of these worries was a gut-wrenching sadness, and pervasive guilt, over leaving Darios as she did and likely never having the chance to make it right.

  She’d pick up where she’d left off, not alone, but always lonely, and merely existing. Until recent days, she hadn’t realized how much she craved another’s touch, whether a mere brush of skin, a reassuring squeeze, or simply holding hands. Gloves and barriers just weren’t the same, and after Darios, would never be.

  Cold encompassed her from head to toe and she shivered. Without her warlord’s heat and that of his sweltering planet, would she ever feel warm again?

  “Princess Aurelia?” a man called.

  She tried to focus on anything other than intelligent brown eyes that brimmed with warmth when he was happy and burned like glowing embers when angry or in the throes of passion. Or, how the dimple in his chin gave him a boyish charm in stark contrast with his rugged masculinity. And the way his oh-so-kissable lips tipped up into an engaging smile or when his full-throated laughter broke free.

  “Princess,” the male voice called with more urgency.

  She rolled her head against the headrest. Her Zunari pilot glanced her way, steam coming from his mouth when he spoke. “Your pardon, Your Highness, but you’re icing my windows.”

  Turning forward she noticed the viewscreen was indeed coated with a thick frost. She stiffened in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.”

  “You were lost in thought, clear on the other side of Euphyrion. The temperature has been dropping steadily for some time. Something is upsetting you.”

  “It’s a personal matter, but I should never have let my emotions manifest”—she waved her hand at the frozen windows when she concluded with chagrin— “so physically.”

  “Pay it no heed. Now that you’re back with me, the temperature is rising already.” He flipped a few switches and adjusted a dial then swiveled his pilot’s seat to face her. “I’m a very good listener if you’d like to talk about it.”

  She forced a smile. Torqin, the Zunari captain, was a kind man, and quite handsome. His tall lean physique, reassuring smile, and friendly pale-green eyes would have been appealing a week ago. Now, she favored sun-bronzed skin, dark hair, and a large muscular frame that was a perfect canvas for stunningly beautiful body art. After Darios, other men seemed plain by comparison.

  Still, Callae had done well by enlisting Torqin’s help. One of nine other neighboring planets, Zunar had remained steadfastly neutral during the eons-old conflict. They were a chameleon-like people, called so not because they resembled lizards but rather for their adaptability to their surroundings. They could visit Voltarre without sweltering and tolerated the extreme cold of Aeldor without trial.

  Their people were tradesmen, farmers, and artisans, friendly to all but essentially pacifists who wanted only to live as an independent planet in peace.

  A unique feature making them practically invulnerable to outside forces were the rings of noxious gases surrounding their world. It made breathing difficult for other species without equipment, but the Zunaris had adapted long ago. It also stank to high heaven according to her father and brother who had visited. Their people seemed not to notice, but visitors either complained of persistent nausea or an intolerable headache, even while using the necessary respiratory devices.

  The ninth planet in their star system, Zunar had a temperate climate, plentiful rainfall, and lush fertile soil, but no one wanted their smelly planet and left them alone.

  “I appreciate your offer, Captain, but it’s something I’ll have to figure out on my own, I’m afraid.”

  “You had your heart broken. I can hear your tears.”

  It seemed an odd thing to say because while she was sad, she hadn’t been crying. Then she remembered Zunari men had the gift of audio cognizance, also called clear hearing. Similar to her ability to read emotions through touch, audiocogs received messages, not necessarily with their ears, but in their mind, whether it be with words, phrases, or various other sounds, like music.

  What made the ability so unnerving to Aurelia is they also heard voices. Not in a telepathic way, like several known species could, but often from those who had passed beyond this realm to the hereafter. Some called them spirits, others explained it away as lingering energy manifestations, but the Zunari believed these were messages from those who had died with business left unfinished, and they were projected to them from up above, where they basked in paradise with the gods, or from below from those suffering in perdition’s abyss.

  Sometimes the messages were clear—right a wrong, make amends, identify a perpetrator of a crime—but most often they didn’t make sense to the man, unless he had found his partner, a Zunari woman with the gift of clear knowing and the ability to interpret the messages when their man could not.

  Aurelia found it fascinating, but at the same time it sent chills up her spine, which is why she didn’t get into the discord between her and Darios. Instead, she acknowledged his observation with a nod and promptly changed the subject.

  “I’ll be home soon, and that is happy news.”

  He smiled gently, intuitive enough to understand without his gift that she didn’t want to talk about it and let it go. “We should receive docking instructions momentarily.”

  “And that news is even happier.”

  With it summer on Aeldor and winter on Voltarre, although she couldn’t fathom it being hotter than it already was, their planets were closest at this point than at any other time in their solar orbit. Therefore, her journey home took only a day. As she watched the light-blue planet grow bigger on the rapidly defrosting view screen,
Aurelia listened to the Zunari captain call for clearance.

  “Thank you for seeing me home,” she told the captain.

  She’d met him once before when he’d visited Aeldor on a trade mission. Then he’d been fair-skinned, blue-eyed, and blond, like her people. Here on his ship, his hair had changed to black like the endless expanse of space before them on the viewscreen. The rest of him was neutral, his eyes pale and skin almost devoid of color. If he hadn’t introduced himself and reminded her that they’d dined together some months ago, she would have never recognized him.

  “It’s no trouble. I was heading to Aeldor anyway. I must say, having this peace between you, and by extension to the rest of Euphyrion is a blessing. During the truce we’ve discovered how enjoyable it can be to have all ten worlds coexisting peacefully, and we want it to last.”

  “You don’t worry Darios will be angry that you helped me?”

  He shot her a startled glance. “Why would he be? I was told you needed a way home, something about the cosmic debris cloud interfering with your communication with Aeldor. I offered since I was going your way. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Uh-oh. Callae hadn’t told him the whole story.

  “We had a situation,” she offered vaguely, “and some communications couldn’t get through regarding my travel plans, but not to worry. Once I get home, I will straighten out everything.”

  “I must contact the overlord immediately. If he thinks we have interfered in Voltarrean business, well, that will not do at all.” He looked at her and repeated firmly, “Not at all, Princess.”

  Aurelia reached out and patted his arm. “I will ensure he understands you were only doing me a favor. As I said, Captain, worry not.”

  “You know him that well?”

  Though she tried to keep her expression neutral, she could do nothing about the blush rising in her cheeks. “Well enough to smooth any ruffled feathers, I assure you.”