Warrior's Curse

by Cara Bristol

  “Yes. Oh. The other alternative is that we build an aqueduct.” He scooped tea leaves into a couple of cups. When the liquid neared boiling, he poured it over the leaves and carried the cups to the table. “This should steep a little while.”

  Reena’s nostrils flared as she inhaled the fragrant bouquet. “It smells nice,” she said. He knew she remembered the foul herbal concoction.

  Why won’t you believe me? He stifled his sigh of frustration and bit into a hunk of meat. Chewed. Swallowed.

  She nibbled at her piece. “You’re certain Meloni is correct about the water?”

  “He is a powerful healer and shaman. He discerns what no one else can.”

  “He sounds like a sensate.” Reena picked up her cup, blew over the top, and took a sip. Her eyes crinkled with pleasure.

  Garat nodded. “He has not admitted as much, but I suspect so. He taps into the Goddess’s power.”

  “No wonder he was able to save me when Honna couldn’t.”

  “She didn’t want to save you. She was trying to kill you.”

  “Stop saying that.” She set her cup down hard, and tea splashed over the rim.

  “Stop speaking the truth?”

  “It’s not the truth. You’re wrong!” She leaped up and stalked to the other side of the room. She hugged herself.

  “Come and finish your meal.”

  “I’m not hungry anymore.”

  “You need the nourishment.”

  “Why do you care? I’m just a commodity to be traded.” She sniffed and flung out an arm in the direction of the bedchamber. “Is that why you seduced me? To win me over so I’d intervene on your behalf with my mother?”

  He could not deny the first part, and it shot to the heart of his guilt. However, she was dead wrong about the latter. “I did not seduce you! You’re Sharona,” he spat and pushed away from the table.

  “You’re blaming me for what happened?”

  He shrugged. “How do I know you didn’t enrapture me?” Comparing their mating to his last one, he was pretty sure she hadn’t. He’d fallen under Reena’s spell but with volition of mind. He couldn’t forgive her distrust, even though he knew his feelings to be unreasonable. Why should she believe him, a kidnapper? A Lahon with whom her people had had an adversarial relationship for eons. Still, her lack of faith rankled.

  “Because—look!” She held up her arm, displaying her unchanged gem. Her eyes flashed, and, in her outrage, her nacreous skin flushed a becoming pink. The hard buds of her nipples formed two points against the fabric of the tunic, which slipped over one arm to bare her shoulder. Her thighs were naked already, the tunic just skimming the tops.

  Temptress.

  His cock thickened as he strolled toward her. “Perhaps you mask the pheromone in some way. Perhaps you exchanged the jewel for another.”

  “I can’t remove it—it’s permanent. We’re born with it.”

  “Maybe it’s defective.”

  She stomped her foot, and her pert breasts bounced. She wore his clothing and her own fury well. “Maybe you’re a—a—” She scrambled for a suitable insult.

  “A what?” he asked, more eager than he should be to help her out. “A savage? A barbarian? Isn’t that what the Sharona think of us? That we’re crude, less evolved? That the Goddess created the Lahon first and then improved on the species and created the Sharona?” He closed the distance until he could smell their mating musk scenting her body, see the individual flecks in her eyes that appeared a solid shade of blue from a distance. So much about her had appeared different from a distance.

  “What about what the Lahon say about the Sharona?” she charged. “That we’re sirens who lead men astray; we hypnotize their minds and entrance their bodies.”

  “Don’t you?” He shifted his gaze to his erection.

  She tossed her head. “I don’t have anything to do with that.”

  Garat laughed softly and moved toward her. “You have everything to do with it.”

  “No.” She warded him off.

  Her retreat ignited a predatory instinct to chase. “You tempt. You beguile. You enchant.” With each word, he took a step, until he backed her up against the wall.

  Reena fisted her hands at her sides, ducked her head, and addressed his collarbone. “Not true.”

  He slid his palm under her hair to cup her neck. With his thumb, he caressed her jawline, tilted her face upward. “It is true. Why else would I do this?” He lowered his head and captured her mouth.

  Instead of plundering, he coaxed, brushing over her compressed lips. She thumped her fists against his chest, but he held his ground, neither advancing nor retreating. Her breath came faster, its caress an encouragement, its sweetness a temptation.

  Lightly, he licked. “Open,” he commanded in a low tone.

  “No,” she protested, and he took advantage of her tactical error by slipping his tongue between her parted lips. Honey and heaven. Taste and scent bombarded his senses, wrested control from his grasp. Hadn’t it always been tenuous at best around her? He crushed her mouth then, his tongue pillaging, laying claim.

  She whimpered then relaxed her fists to splay her palms across his chest. She pressed against him. Gave him kiss for kiss. Garat barked in triumph and sought the juncture where neck met shoulder, bared by his tunic. She rolled her head to the side, and he nipped her skin, marking her as his.

  He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his tumescence. “Feel what you do to me?”

  She emitted a little moan, her fingers moved, and he thought she was trying to free her hand until she nimbly undid the fastenings of his pantaloons and the only thing free was his cock, long, hard, and aching. He grabbed the neckline of her tunic and tore it from collar to hem.

  He grabbed her next and lifted her up. He sought the secret recesses of her body, found her wet, tight, grasping. She wrapped her legs around his hips, ensnared him. Enchanted. Just like he’d said. Garat crushed her mouth under his lips and thrust into her. Conquered.

  He fucked her against the wall, driving into her like a man possessed, a man in need, a man enraptured. Yet he couldn’t hate her. Lights burst behind his eyes, blinding him to everything but the truth. Joining with her was like coming alive, being born into bliss.

  Reena cried out in her own ecstasy, her womanhood pulsing around his throbbing cock. Deep inside her body, he spilled his essence. It felt like he’d left a part of his soul.

  The deed was completed, but her legs remained locked around his waist, and he was loathe to part.

  He’d been right about the Sharona. They were dangerous. Already he cared too much for this one. He had granted her too much power, rendered himself vulnerable.

  The sooner he got rid of her, the safer he’d be.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh, thank Goddess, you’re here!” The attendant outside Ellynna’s chamber wrung her hands.

  Honna hid her satisfaction under an expression of concern. “Why? What happened? Has she gotten worse?”

  “She’s not sleeping, not eating. I fear she may have contracted the terrible malady that afflicted Princess Reena.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The queen cannot hold down what little she does eat.”

  “In her weakened, grieving state, it is possible she has fallen to the sickness.” She patted the attendant’s arm. “Don’t worry. We are fortunate to have caught it early. I will do everything in my power to save her,” she said, while mentally rebuking the attendant for her haggard appearance and slovenly grooming.

  The woman’s eyes were reddened and swollen from weeping, her face creased by lack of sleep, and her shoulders drooped. When she was crowned Shara, Honna’s subjects would maintain proper decorum. “While I visit with the queen, why don’t you take a break? Get yourself something to eat. Take a nap.” Fix your disgraceful appearance.

  “Oh, I couldn’t leave—”

  “Nonsense. You’re entitled to a respite to tend to your needs.” Honna nudged her down the corridor. “I’ll
stay with her while you’re gone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You’ll be better able to assist the queen if you’re not so exhausted.”

  “Oh, that’s true, isn’t it?” The attendant brightened. “I won’t be gone long.”

  “Take all the time you need.”

  Honna entered a room draped by heavy curtains, sadness, and despair. Outside the palace, the autumn sun shone, and the air was sharp and crisp. Locked in mourning, Ellynna had the windows shuttered and the curtains drawn.

  After her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she spied the queen in a chair in the corner.

  “Aunt Ellynna? How are you doing this morning?” She moved to a candelabrum on the bedside table, lit it, and peered into a goblet. Empty, except for a few leafy dregs clinging to the crystal. Excellent.

  “Honna?”

  She wiped the smile from her face and went to kneel at the queen’s feet. “Yes, Aunt?”

  Fresh tears filled Ellynna swollen eyes. “I thought I had prepared myself—that when…it happened—I would be able to accept it.” She rubbed her mouth as if to wipe away the horror then let her hand fall limp in her lap.

  “I know.” She clasped her aunt’s hand. Her skin felt dry and chilled like Reena’s used to. Compared to her daughter, the queen would be an easy kill. The herbs were working much faster. It was as if her cousin had possessed a resistance, like a charm that had enabled her to survive as long as she had. Fortunately, whatever had protected Reena, it hadn’t shielded her from an EID blast.

  Honna bowed her head. “I hold myself responsible—I should have been able to save her.”

  “Don’t say that. No one blames you. You did everything you could.”

  “Did I, Aunt? Did I? I keep remembering the ambush. If I’d heard the Lahon approach. If I’d drawn my weapon sooner. If—”

  “You’re a healer.” Ellynna shook her head. “Violence is not in your nature.”

  “If only I hadn’t requested her company on the manhunt. I wanted to make her happy in her last days, and she longed to see the Lahon. I’m so sorry.” She squeezed a tear from her eye and peered up at her aunt. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  “You did nothing wrong. I’m the one to blame by insisting you follow the law of Sharona. I decided to send Reena with you.” The queen choked.

  Honna held her tongue, allowing the guilt to sink deep. After a long moment, she said, “I wish I knew what provoked the attack.”

  “I don’t know…” The queen fell silent. Then she lifted her head. “Water.”

  “Would you like a drink, Auntie?” Honna rose to her feet. “I’ll get it for you.”

  “No, water is what provoked the attack.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “While you were gone, the Lahon’s leader approached me. They are running out of water.”

  “So why is that our problem?”

  “He demanded we vacate the palace and the village or he would invade and take everything anyway,” she said, her voice strengthening with every word. She straightened in the chair.

  At the threat of outside aggression, the queen had rallied, as if fighting gave her reason to live. Alarm flickered. So close. So close. The queen must not recover now. “He can demand all he wants,” Honna said while removing her medical pouch. “He won’t get it. I promise you.”

  “I have sympathy for their plight. They cannot survive without water. I would have been amendable to working with them, but I will not cave to threats or extortion.” A frown creased her forehead. “He seemed so pleasant at the start of our conversation.”

  “One cannot negotiate with barbarians. They are savages.” And they had no right to Sharona’s water!

  “Not all of them. When I was in fever, I encountered one…” Ellynna sounded wistful. “He was so different from what I had expected. The mating stirred—” She broke off and blushed. “Had I not been queen, I might have stayed with him, left the Sharona. But I was queen, and he had his duties to his people, too.”

  “Aunt Ellynna!” Honna had never considered leaving the Sharona. Even when the curse had been most virulent, the idea had never, ever occurred to her.

  “You disapprove?”

  “Of course not. I’m…surprised.” If anything called the queen’s judgment into question and proved she was unfit to rule, this did. How could one even think of abandoning the throne? And for a Lahon?

  “He was a healer, like you. And he wielded great power. He had an aura about him as if he channeled the Goddess herself.” The queen’s lips curved in a shy smile, her first expression of happiness since the news of Reena’s death.

  First the rally, now this. I will not lose. “Was this Lahon, this great healer, Reena’s father?”

  The light on Ellynna’s face died. “No. I met him later, during my second cycle. After mating with him, the fever never came again. Unfortunately, our union did not produce a child.” The queen played with a ring around her finger, tracing the engraved whorls. She looked up. “I’m sorry. I never asked you: how did your mating go?”

  “Fine.” Honna rose and moved to a tall sideboard, filled a goblet with water, and added three generous pinches of herbs she extracted from her pouch. “I won’t need to go again.”

  “So you believe the mating was…fruitful?”

  “The journey was very successful.”

  “I’m so glad.” The queen’s eyes lit with another genuine smile.

  Honna handed her the tincture. “Here. I’ve mixed you a medicinal tea, Auntie.”

  “Is that the stuff that smells and tastes bad?”

  “Yes, but it’s good for you.”

  Her aunt wrinkled her nose but took the glass. “You’re the one who’s good for me. You’re a Goddess-send. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “I’m happy to be able to serve you, Auntie. Drink up, now.”

  * * * *

  Naked from the waist up, his chest glistening with sweat, Garat raised the axe over his head and brought it down dead center to split the log with a crack then divided the halves with just as much ease. Heat pulsed between Reena’s legs at the display of power, but then desire withered under resentment when he glanced in her direction with an emotionless gaze.

  Yes, I’m still here. Where would I go? She glowered from the tree stump where she’d been ordered to sit, and he grabbed another log and resumed chopping. When he wasn’t ignoring her, he tracked her every move. Autocratic, boorish lout.

  She’d had small windows of opportunity to escape when his attention had been diverted. She could have run. Maybe he would have caught her, maybe not.

  Except she hadn’t tried. Because…because…she didn’t know why any more than she could figure out why she succumbed to his physical advances night after night after vowing all day that the next time she would be strong. The next time she would resist him. The next time she would tell him to find a deep pool of the water he desired so much and throw himself into it.

  She never did. He would crawl into bed beside her, and they would lie untouching, as far apart as they could get, and then he would be on top of her, kissing, stroking almost with desperation, and she would be equally driven, melting inside, rising to meet his thrusting manhood. Afterward, he would wrench away with a grunt. She recognized his shame, for it was hers, too. Something else they shared.

  Our lust has to be caused by the fever, it has to be! Reena rubbed her wrist.

  “You look troubled.” A shadow blocked the sun, and she looked up to see a Lahon she didn’t recognize. Not that she’d seen many. Only Garat, Kor, and little Jerak. Her abductor had taken great care to keep her isolated from other men. This Lahon wasn’t as tall or brawny as Garat or even Kor, and he appeared older. Faint lines radiated from dark eyes hinting of great wisdom. Like the other two men, he wore his shoulder-length hair tied with a thong. His breeches were leather, his tunic a rough fabric. He carried no weapon, but Reena recognized his pouch.

  “You’re the healer.”r />
  He nodded. “I tended you when you arrived.”

  Thunk! Garat lodged the axe into a log and strode over. “Meloni! I’m glad you came by. I’ll have a load of firewood delivered to your hut later.” His welcoming tone contrasted starkly with the brusqueness with which he addressed her—when he deigned to address her at all. Her throat thickened, and, cursing her foolishness, she leaped to her feet and dusted the backs of her legs.

  If he won’t speak to me, then I won’t talk to him either.

  Meloni waved. “No rush. And I told you there’s no need to pay me, anyway. My gift comes from the Goddess, and, in exchange, I give freely to others.”

  “Still. I have more firewood than I require, and I’m grateful for the way you took care of Reena, so I’d like you to have it.”

  Grateful? He didn’t act grateful, treating her to simmering silences unless he was snapping at her. Or mating with her.

  Meloni bowed his head. “Thank you.”

  Garat wiped his perspiring brow with a cloth he pulled from his pantaloons. “What brings you here today?”

  “Reena.” Meloni glanced at her. “It’s been a week since her...arrival…and I came to examine her.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “I can’t predict. Why?”

  “I have some tools I need to retrieve. If you are willing to stay with her, I can go and get them.” Garat never so much as made eye contact with her even though she was the subject of their discussion. That’s how it went. Every day. Until the night, when his body claimed hers and seduced her response.

  Fine! She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead.

  “Of course.” Meloni smiled. Could he sense the tension? Every good healer was at least part sensate. “I’m sure we’ll be able to engage ourselves. Take your time.”

  “Thank you.” Garat clapped his relief guard on the shoulder and departed.

  “He’s afraid I’ll escape,” she muttered.

  Meloni appraised her with a tilt to his head. “Are you going to?”

  How did one answer? Did she declare her intentions to the enemy or offer such a bald-faced lie a fool wouldn’t be deceived? Meloni saved her from having to choose. “He worries for naught. Destiny will find us whether we want it to or not,” he said.