Claimed by the Warlord

by Maddie Taylor

  “We must know the truth.” Her voice shook, and her features were contorted by pain. When she lifted her gaze to her brother, he could see agony in her eyes. “She despises us, Axton. Me, most of all!” With a glare at the woman who wanted her dead, she demanded to know, “Why?”

  “You might as well admit the truth,” Axton urged his wife. “You have conspired to murder a member of the royal family. ’Tis an act of treason. With a truthsayer present, you are as good as convicted.”

  She glared at him for a moment then snapped, “I married you to be queen. Why else would I?”

  “Truth,” Darios decreed.

  “Agreed,” Aurelia declared. “Her hunger for power is the driving emotion within her. But why kill me, Sidrah, when marrying my brother assured you’d wear the crown one day?” Her question had barely passed her lips when she writhed with another wave of pain, and whispered, “Resentment, jealousy, hostility.”

  “Explain,” he commanded, even as his free hand rose to the back of his wife’s neck, offering whatever comfort he could. “But do so fast. She can’t take much more of your evil.”

  The fearful victim from moments ago had vanished; likely it had been part of the role she’d been playing since she’d married the prince. “Like I care what she can take,” she sneered, causing Aurelia to sway and groan.

  “You’ll care if I snap your vile neck,” he shot back.

  Sidrah shrank back, this time truly wary as fiery sparks created by his towering rage danced in the air round him. Her eyes shifted to a point over his shoulder. “Why don’t you ask the king? He knows the truth better than I.”

  Identical silver-blonde heads swung toward Aziros, but only Axton posed the question, “What is she talking about, father?”

  He shook his head.

  “He’s lying,” Sidrah hissed. “Scry the truth from the king, mighty warlord. He held a secret truth for over two decades. I know because I read it, written by his own hand, in his private journals.”

  Darios turned as well, his gaze meeting his long-term adversary, who suddenly seemed much older than his years. “She speaks true,” he verified.

  “What secret, Papa?” Aurelia whispered.

  Aziros put his hand to his forehead, appearing dazed. “You weren’t supposed to ever find out what I did,” he murmured low, as if to himself.

  “What did you do?” Axton angrily demanded.

  Unable to bear seeing his bride tormented so, he released Sidrah and gently peeled Aurelia’s fingers from her wrist. She resisted at first. “Let her go, princess. It isn’t necessary for you to suffer any longer.”

  Not needing to be told twice, she freed the woman then, from what must have been intensely negative emotions, doubled over, her arms encircling her waist. Darios wouldn’t allow her to endure it alone. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her into his arms, enveloping her with his strength while she collapsed heavily against him.

  “What did you do?” Axton repeated in a roar.

  “Darios.”

  Caught up in the drama playing out before him, he almost didn’t hear her soft whisper, but when he looked down, he couldn’t miss the plea in her shimmering blue eyes. “I need to go to him. Please, understand, with Sidrah’s betrayal, he’s holding on by a thread.”

  He didn’t want to. She appeared too shaken to stand, but he let go. She pushed from his arms and staggered to her twin. Darios watched as she slipped her hand in his. Watching them together, so much alike, he suspected this wasn’t the first time they stood united, drawing from the other’s strength, and supported one another. Unlike the twins he knew of from history, these two had a special bond—healthy, not destructive.

  Any lingering doubts he may have had that her brother bore her ill will vanished as she watched the twins face their father—together.

  “I did what I thought was best at the time.” Pale, and appearing suddenly tired, as if this secret had weighed heavily on him, he turned sad eyes their way. “When I held you in my arms, never had I seen anything more beautiful. But this world, the people we deal with, in Euphyrion and beyond, seek out weakness in any form. With your skin against mine, I felt the goodness in you and knew you would grow up the same way.”

  “Then why did you groom me every day of my life for the day I would ascend to the throne?” Axton demanded.

  The king’s eyes shifted between them, until they fell on Aurelia.

  “I’m talking about my firstborn,” he whispered. “My sweet, delicate, guileless child, I felt in my heart whether you saw ten winters, or twenty, or fifty, you’d be too tenderhearted to rule. I didn’t want to put you in the position to have to be what you aren’t, my daughter.”

  The response from everyone in the room came at once. Aurelia gasped as the truth, after twenty-four winters, finally came out. Prince Axton grunted, as if he’d taken a vicious punch in the gut. Darios cursed beneath his breath. And Sidrah, spiteful bitch that she was, laughed at the turmoil she’d incited.

  Clinging to Axton with both hands, she restated the facts to be completely sure what she was hearing. “I came first, not Axton, and you switched our birth order on the official records.”

  “Yes. Your mother had difficulty delivering the two of you. She was drugged. Except for me and the midwife, who has long since passed, who was to know that you, my daughter, are the true heir to the kingdom of Aeldor.”

  EMOTIONALLY DRAINED, Darios escorted Aurelia back to her room and stayed with her as she processed what went on. When Cogar came to announce the surveillance video at the lab was ready for viewing, she insisted he go. But she couldn’t rest without him there, nor could she think straight. It wasn’t that she needed him to pet her or hold her hand and rock her in his arms—although all of that would be wonderful—but she could use his support after discovering what she believed to be true from the first moment of her cognizance until that morning had been built on a lie. News this shocking would rock even the strongest-willed person.

  With hours to herself to do nothing but think, she felt ready to emerge from her self-imposed solitude when Darios returned late that afternoon. He escorted her down to supper, at her insistence, and upon finding her father sitting alone and dejected, looking like someone had shot his most treasured pet, she offered him a tremulous smile.

  “It’s going to be all right, Papa,” she assured him as she squatted beside his chair. When he glanced at her doubtfully, and muttered, “You are more forgiving than your brother,” she put her hand on his thickly robed arm.

  “You raised him to be a determined, strong-willed leader, but also thoughtful and just. He knows what you did was for the love of his family and his people, as do I.”

  His head came up, but his eyes went to Darios who stood silently supportive at her back. “I hope you know what a treasure you’ve found in a wife, Overlord.”

  “I thought I did, Aziros, but I’m learning it more profoundly with each passing day.”

  A roar loud enough to shake the solid granite floors and rattle the glass in the double-thick windows made her jump. A moment later, as she, Darios, and her father emerged from the dining room, Axton came storming down the main stairs.

  “The faithless bitch is gone, as is her guard.”

  “Which one?” the king demanded to know.

  Her brother hesitated an instant before he growled, “Struvon.”

  His papa’s voice was harsh and raw with outrage when he exclaimed, “The man has been with our family for twenty annum. What in hell is going on?”

  “A deeply ingrained conspiracy is my guess.” Darios spoke aloud the horrible truth they didn’t want to accept. “We’re going after her, I assume?” he asked her brother.

  In answer, he spun on his booted heel and strode toward the front door. Darios was moving that way too and Aurelia realized if she didn’t hurry, they’d leave without her.

  “I’ll grab my wind cloak and be right behind you.”

  “You will not,” he replied, without slowing.


  “Darios—” she exclaimed as she rushed after him. She came close to slamming into him when he stopped abruptly.

  “Do not argue, Aurelia,” he intoned sternly as he faced her, “or I will carry you upstairs, and lock you in your room with a red backside to keep you occupied while I see to the task you are keeping me from.”

  “It seems you have met your match, Sister.”

  “This isn’t funny,” she snapped, shifting her glare from her husband to her brother.

  “I disagree, and I feel more disinclined to amusement now than at any other time in my life. But I am glad you’ve found a man you cannot bend to your will.” Eyes identical to her own switched to Darios. “I can’t count how many times Father and I wanted to blister her backside.”

  “Axton!”

  “’Tis true.”

  “If you had, you’d have spared me considerable trouble,” her husband drawled, “but I’m fully prepared to deal with it. I’ve never been one to retreat in battle, nor will I shy away from meting out a blistered bottom when one is due, whether my stubbornly defiant woman is acting the haughty princess, or a spoiled brat.”

  With her hands on her hips she tipped her head back, still glaring. “You know there is nothing wrong with my hearing and I’m standing right here hearing every word, don’t you, my lord?”

  One dark brow arched in challenge. “Why do you think I said it?”

  He took hold of her shoulders, bent and kissed her forehead, which only took a bit of the sting out of his words, but not the hurt and frustration of her brother and newly acquired husband ganging up on her.

  “Stay here and behave so I don’t have to follow through on my promise.” Then he was on the move again.

  “Men,” she muttered under her breath. “It appears those brute stories weren’t that far off base.”

  “What was that?”

  When she looked up, Darios had paused at the junction to the main hall, Axton nowhere in sight. “Excuse me?” she asked with a forced air of innocence not about to repeat her comment.

  He raised his hand and crooked a finger at her—this silent command she’d seen before.

  “No, thank you, I’d prefer to stay here.”

  “It isn’t a choice I’m giving you. Come here, Aurelia.”

  She took a tentative step forward, and muttered, “Are you always this bossy?” though she well knew the answer by now.

  He didn’t respond except to cross his arms over his broad chest, clearly prepared to wait until she complied.

  Appearing every inch the ruler of a powerful realm, he wore his weather-appropriate clothing with as much grace and stunning sexuality as he did his breechcloth and boots. His long-sleeved, snugly-fitting brushed-leather tunic was open at the throat, revealing what to her looked more like exquisite body art than symbols of his valor in war. His trousers encased his muscular legs like a second skin and outlined a distinctive bulge behind the placket ties in front, revealing more than concealing what she knew was long, thick, and proportionate in size to the rest of her powerful warlord.

  Whether nearly naked in his miniscule war garb or fully covered and ready to brave the frigid north winds, he took her breath away.

  Standing before her, he dipped his chin to his chest and asked, “A brute, eh?”

  Her eyes widened.

  “There isn’t anything wrong with my hearing, either, Wife. In fact, it’s more acute than average.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

  “I know that. I also know there is no telling how much of a head start Sidrah has on us. Do we continue this argument as she gets farther out of reach, or do you do as you’re told and stay here with your father?”

  She opened her mouth, but he hadn’t finished.

  “Need I remind you it’s only been a week since you were lying in Crynar’s infirmary, battling a potentially fatal illness? He hasn’t even cleared you, yet.”

  “And you’d tell him I wasn’t following his orders, I’m sure.”

  “What do you think?”

  Her lower lip turned down in a pout mostly because he was right. They needed to go, and she was wasting time. She also didn’t have much to offer on a search-and-capture mission; she wasn’t a trained warrior, and her shooting abilities were lacking.

  “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

  He shifted until she couldn’t see anything other than his handsome face. “With such a beautiful woman awaiting my return, I’ll ask again, princess. What do you think?”

  “I’m sorry for the brute comment. It’s not true.”

  “Aurelia?”

  “Yes?”

  “Kiss me so I can go.”

  She reached up and pulled his head down, then planted an open-mouthed kiss on his lips. He took control, adding tongue and a lot of heat, not seeming to care in the slightest that her brother and father had returned and looked on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THIRTY-SEVEN SOFT THUDS then five more ringing sharply, a brief pause as she turned, before the sequence repeated in reverse. That was the sound her half boots made as she paced up and down the long hall outside the communication center. She’d sat with her father for a while as updates came in from the planet-wide search for Sidrah. When potential sightings kept turning up empty and leads continually fizzled out, she couldn’t take the frustration anymore.

  “Send someone if there is word,” she’d muttered as she rose from her chair. Iyo, her watchdog assigned by Darios, stood with her. She shot him an irritated glare, much preferring Cogar of the two, but she hadn’t been given a choice.

  “I’m going out for air, nothing more,” she told him.

  “I could use a breath myself,” was his calm reply.

  Since the first time, when she’d overheard him call her the ice princess and several other derogatory names, he’d been a perfect gentleman, his manners above reproach, but she’d seen the true Iyo, not the mask he wore around her out of respect for his leader. The glimpse she had of the tortured man inside him had softened her somewhat, but when she recalled how he’d accused her of being cold—enough to freeze a man’s cock off, words she’d never forget—before he’d even met her, her heart hardened toward him once more.

  Iyo’s deep voice broke into her thoughts. “You’ve been pacing for the last two hours. It accomplishes nothing, unless your goal is to wear out the carpet.” He paused, but she didn’t, so he tried again. “You should rest. It could be a long night.”

  Tired near to death of being told to rest, she turned on him and said sharply, “If I’m keeping you up, by all means, find your bed.”

  “I will not leave you unguarded, Princess Aurelia.”

  Without stopping, she waved in the direction of the twin chairs flanking the door. “Make yourself comfortable, then, Iyo. I won’t be able to close my eyes, not until we have news.” She did an abrupt about-face, only twenty steps into her count. “I’ll just pop my head in and see if there’s any updates.”

  “You mean since ten minutes ago when you last checked?”

  She glared at the handsome guard who stood between her and the door, as tall as his warlord, but not nearly as broad. “Your sarcasm is unwelcome. I know you don’t care for women, but do you treat all of them like dirt? Or am I the lucky recipient of all your animosity?”

  He blinked. “My apologies, I was teasing. As for women, including you, I like women fine and devote considerable time and effort into not treating them like dirt.”

  “You’re failing with me,” she grumbled. “What about the others? The considerable time, is that only to get them in your bed?”

  He smiled without a hint of remorse. “What better place for them?”

  “Them? As in more than one?” She paused as a thought struck her then added, “At a time?”

  Twin dimples appeared in his cheeks as a grin overtook his features. There was no need to say more—she had her answer.

  She grimaced in distaste, which made him chuckle.

>   The sound, which she’d never heard before, was rich and soothing. If he turned on the charm and flashed those dimples, she could imagine women clamoring to be in his bed. Too bad he was a callous ass when not trolling for bedmates.

  The door to the communications room swished open as a soldier exited. He nodded to her and Iyo but didn’t pause as he moved down the hall. A woman’s voice filtered out through the slow closing doors. She recognized it instantly.

  “That’s my aunt,” she exclaimed.

  Her spat with Darios’ trusted man quickly forgotten, she rushed inside.

  “She’s insane, Aziros.”

  Aurelia immediately located her aunt Akira’s beloved face on one of the large suspended screens. She was speaking with her usual animation to her father who stood before it.

  “Don’t let her in,” he advised.

  The older woman’s head reared back, and she quipped, “Do I look as crazed as Sidrah?” Then she shook her head sadly. “The woman’s snapped, apparently.”

  “You need to get out of there,” her father urged. “What about the lower level door?”

  Aurelia knew that wouldn’t work before her aunt answered, “It’s frozen solid. I’ll just have to stand and defend with this.” She held up a proton blaster.

  “It’s too dangerous, Akira. Go out the back and take your cruiser to town.”

  “Don’t you think I want to, Az? There are at least a dozen soldiers with her, and they’re fully armed. What in the frozen firth is going on?”

  Standing as close as her shadow, Iyo remarked, “Amazing. She’s an older version of you right down to the bizarre exclamations.”

  She would have thanked him—any comparison to her beloved aunt was a compliment in her mind—but Akira turned abruptly. From the background came the unmistakable sound of breaking glass and splintering wood.

  “Gods above, they’re breaking in!”

  Shouts and the pounding of boots came next.

  Never one to back down from a fight, no matter the odds, her aunt disappeared from the view screen. A moment later, she reappeared, set two other weapons on a nearby table, and then took aim at the door with the blaster.