Authors: Michelle Howard
Tags: #paranormal, #fantasy romance, #medieval, #scifi romance
Vaan’s fingers clenched on the mug in his
hand and fine cracks appeared on the side. What he’d done to Rolon
had not been enough but he’d had to satisfy himself with the act of
sending a firm message to those who might think to attack his
family again. “I wanted to do more.”
His brother swallowed then gave an abrupt
nod. “How would you like me to handle Warlord Kuran?”
Vaan’s mouth twisted. He’d gathered enough
information to know that the Warlord had at least ten followers.
Kabanian warriors who sought to overthrow Vaan’s rule. “I’ll handle
Kuran. Kavan has already volunteered to do my bidding on the
matter.”
Vaan trusted his Warlord’s need to strike
back. Kavan would serve him well and see that Kuran and the
traitors with him would suffer.
“Will you tell Mikayla your plans?”
Vaan grimaced, not looking forward to the
conversation. “Later. Tonight is for her pleasure but when she
pushes her nose in a warrior’s business I will reveal all.”
Saran had the gall to laugh, his brown eyes
lighting in humor. “I wager she will know before the week is out.
Something tells me you will not hold out against her green-eyed
gaze.”
With those words, his brother inclined his
head and walked across the room to join the circle of warriors
around Mikayla. Saran greeted Kiel with a hearty back slap.
Vaan’s annoyed gaze drifted from his brother
to land on his mate in the clinging material of the red dress he’d
approved. The slits in the long sleeves revealed glimpses of her
slender, golden arms as she gestured. She laughed at something his
brother said and turned. Her back was completely covered he noted
in relief but the sheer fabric gave hints of the curves beneath.
Arane tugged on the bottom of the ankle length skirt and Mikayla
picked their youngling up to prop on a hip without pausing in her
conversation.
Kavan, as always stood close on one side,
while Balal stood on the other with his arms around Assa. The crowd
around Mikayla grew as the Raasa people all shared in what she’d
missed during her time away. Long ago, Vaan would have disapproved
such familiarity. Today it reassured him that his family was well
loved.
Argan’s loud booming laughter drew Vaan’s
attention and he searched the large gathering until he found him
with the Shadow Queen. His best friend had stayed once Vaan
informed him of his plan for the celebration tonight. Vaan
approached them now on silent feet.
“You know I can not allow you to take her,”
Argan said.
His bride’s lips turned down as she gazed at
his youngling in her arms. Erana looped the long red strands of
Shaina’s hair around her chubby hands, green eyes staring in
amazement. When she tugged, Shaina winced.
“Fire?” Erana asked, facing Argan.
Argan took his time unwrapping his bride’s
hair from tiny fingers until the red curls spilled about her
shoulders then smiled at Erana. “No. But her temper can be
hot.”
Shaina bussed Erana’s cheek. “Don’t listen to
the evil Shadow King.”
Vaan’s snort of laughter made his presence
known. They all turned at the sound and Erana bounced in Shaina’s
arms. “Falo!”
The Shadow Queen reluctantly lowered Erana
and she ran to him. He picked his youngling up and his heart
thumped before settling into its normal rhythm. Sometimes the love
was too much to bear.
“Overlord,” Argan acknowledged. “We leave
this evening and you need not worry that my bride will steal your
young.”
Shaina glared. “Only because I’ve decided to
have my own.”
Argan paled, which surprised another laugh
from Vaan. Shaina poked Argan in the chest and headed for
Mikayla.
“You think she jests?” Argan asked, worried
eyes never leaving his bride as her long legs ate up the
distance.
Vaan shrugged, unable to tell if his friend
hoped for one way or the other. “You wanted youngling. Surely any
she births will prove strong warriors.”
Argan faced him and drove a hand through his
black hair. “Mikayla was not a pleasure to be around while she
carried. Shaina would be…difficult, I believe.”
They both watched Shaina speak to Mikayla,
who pointed at Assa. Shaina said something to the Raasa female who
nodded. Moments later she rubbed Assa’s belly.
Argan groaned. “She spoke truth.”
Author’s Notes
Ramar? Really? Who knew the Warlord had it in
him to win Vesa back after his bad showing in the bedroom in The
Overlord’s Heir. This was a lot of fun to write. I got to hang out
with Vaan and Mikayla again, plus I got to really see the youngling
and their interactions with the Warlords, who clearly adore them as
much as their parents. I also wanted to show more of Raasa and life
with them. Based on Maen, I think their men have potential to be
major contenders in the hero department.
I have to apologize for this coming out later
than I expected. I really would have had this completed sooner but
one of my beta readers mentioned wanting to know more about the
Shadow Warriors while I was mid-way through this. One thing led to
another in my head and I derailed onto the Aerilians. What happens
to them next? They were good allies of the Olak’din for years
before the Prince ruined things. Once the thoughts and ideas
started, I couldn’t cut off the flow and ended up writing like a
crazy woman. The good news is that this novella will help me set up
the next Warlord book.
I know just the Warlord who will end up with
a blue skinned Aerilian. I mean, he’s practically been begging me
to write his story from the beginning, so now he’ll get his wish.
And yes that would be Kavan. LOL. I don’t think he’ll be as easy
going as Argan when it comes to love despite what his heart longs
for and then I still have to get a bride for Saran.(Although I’ve
known his heroine for a while now.)
See you in the next book,
Michelle
Excerpt from Arak’s Love (A World Beyond
Book 2)
Chapter 1
“In position.” The words murmured in the
communicator at Arak’s ear sent a fresh wave of excitement through
him.
The Jutak warriors unit he belonged to had
received intel about the Marenians planning to eliminate a group of
sex slaves they’d been unable to sell. More than likely the
bastards wanted to unload what they considered useless cargo before
Arak and his fellow Jutak warriors caught up to them.
Over the last few months his unit comprised
of three teams had managed to close down more and more of these
illegal sex auctions. Auctions that featured men and women who’d
been snatched from their families and home worlds to be sold as
exotic toys to others who thought nothing of enslaving innocent
people.
“Arak, your point of entry will put you on
the top level where we’ve confirmed the slaves are kept. Kyele can
circle around and come up from the rear in case you meet any
opposition. Faruk and I will provide cover for rapid exit if
detected.” Jaron, his team leader, gave the orders in a calm
voice.
The calm on a mission was directly opposite
the man’s personality when they weren’t out. Jaron had a practical
joker side to him that often got the Enotian into trouble with the
others.
“Affirmative.” Arak eased back from the
crevice where he and Kyele who’d also been selected for the rescue
hid. The tiled roof provided the perfect access point to the
rickety warehouse.
Kyele hefted his laser blaster in hand and
nodded to Arak before fading away into the darkness. Freaky but
Arak could hardly complain. Kyele’s silence and love of knives
scared any who ran into the Jutak warrior. A plus on these types of
missions. Arak was sure the man would reappear right when needed
during the op and that was all that mattered. Kyele was one of the
best on any of their teams because of his nature. Dangerous and
deadly.
The four of them were here on Aultare to
rescue Lindsey Ferra, an Earth woman, assumed to be held prisoner
in the dilapidated building. Saving any other sex slaves present
would be bonus. The Marenians were spreading their home practice of
keeping and abusing slaves beyond Marenia.
Thankfully, his Unit leader Torkel had
received information from carefully placed alliance spies. Critical
information that pointed to Lindsey, wife of two important Senate
Leaders from Garulax, being held here.
“Sixty seconds until rooftop sensors
re-engage. Move it, Arak,” Jaron reminded.
Arak worked quietly but efficiently as he
unscrewed the bolts in the steel panel mounted to the roof then
slid the heavy weight to the side and eased through the narrow
opening. He hooked his ankles for support on an overhead rail pipe
mounted to the ceiling. A slight adjustment as he bent from the
waist and Arak slid the panel back in place before flipping to land
several feet below then crept down the hall, keeping his back to
the wall.
According to the detailed plans they’d
managed to steal, the building only had two floors and a sub
terrain basement. There were four rooms in use on the top floor
where the slaves were allegedly housed and an open concept room on
the second floor for potential buyers to eye the merchandise. Arak
and the others didn’t know what occurred in the basement but he
wasn’t eager to find out. The Marenians weren’t known for their
compassion or care.
Lights flickered above, adding a hazy gold to
the world around him. Arak pulled on his animal senses and his
vision heightened instantly. Sticking close to the walls in shadow,
he eased down the corridor toward the first doorway. Enhanced
vision thanks to his Argoran half proved to be his advantage when
the lights completely winked out seconds later leaving him in total
darkness.
Arak reached the first door and twisted the
handle. His gloved hand muffled the slight creak when the jam
separated from the wood frame. He stiffened when he heard a muffled
thump from inside and dropped to a crouch. Arak pushed the door
open all the way and rolled into the interior aiming for the wall
to his left. A laser blast hit the wall above where his head had
been spewing chunks of rock all over him.
“Don’t move.”
The low order came from his right. Arak
leaped to his feet, weapon aimed and only his core reflexes kept
him from firing off a return shot at the two women across the room.
He jerked the barrel of his laser toward the ceiling.
“I’m Jutak. I won’t harm you.” He knew he
looked a sight in his all black combat gear with multiple weapons
strapped to his body.
His nose twitched as the scent of their fear
assaulted him. Heavy and cloying, the aroma masked any other
details. They stood inches apart dressed in clothing meant to
entice, matching blue sheaths of silk held up by a single strap
across the shoulder. The garment skimmed their thighs leaving the
length of their legs bare. Toes curled into the dirty floor to
emphasize the lack of shoes. Anger surged fast and hard causing
Arak to growl low in his throat at the visible evidence of their
status as Marenian slaves.
The woman with the laser glared at him. He
thought her hair was brown or something close but it was hard to
tell in its matted state. Arak ignored her for the moment. The
woman next to her was the one to watch. Her eyes held a wide spark
he’d seen before. A lit fuse waiting to blow. She held an elite
Marenian hunting knife in each hand, the handles made of custom
carved dark wood fit her grip with ease. Blood coated the jagged
teeth of the blades. At their feet lay the crumpled form of a
Marenian, his distinctive black horns jutted from his brows. A pool
of blood formed beneath the body. Clearly they’d managed to attack
and kill their guard.
“We’re fine. We can rescue ourselves, Mr.
Jutak.” The one with the knives made the declaration as she tossed
stringy hair over her shoulders, its color indiscernible.
Arak almost rolled his eyes. There wasn’t
time to argue the details of who rescued whom. Normally, Arak would
admire the fire flashing in both of their gazes. It meant the
Marenians hadn’t broken their spirits. But not in this instance.
Right now, he had a time table to fit. He pushed back the hooded
mask he wore, hoping that seeing his face would ease them a little.
“I’m a Jutak warrior. Jutak’s not my name. Are either of you
Lindsey Ferra?”
His team’s top concern on these rescue and
run hits was to search for the missing Earth woman who’d been
stolen from her husbands.
“No,” the knife wielder snapped before
turning to her friend. “Let’s go Sylvie, we don’t need him.”
The brown haired woman with the laser didn’t
hesitate. Her thin shoulders braced as she nodded. “Right,
Joni.”
Joni and Sylvie.
Keeping a wary eye on Arak, they walked in
his direction and he realized he stood between them and the door.
The only exit.
Again, pride at their courage in the face of
their circumstances stirred within him. Unwilling to force the
matter, Arak stepped to the side clearing the way. He had three
more rooms to check and Jaron would take care of these women the
moment they crossed the threshold outside of the warehouse. “Use
the stairs. My teammates are around so head straight outside and
they’ll help you both.”
They were almost passed him. Joni’s lips
pinched tight. “We don’t need help.”
They cleared the door and the brown haired
woman tucked the snub nose mini-blaster behind her back as if he’d
attempt to snatch it. Her luscious butt almost tempted him to make
the effort. She glanced over her shoulders and her gaze narrowed.
Arak’s lips curved up, maybe not as vocal as her friend but
prepared to back the other woman up if needed. He followed them out
to the hallway but before they could get too far, he asked, “Where
are you from?”
The team would need to know in order to make
arrangements for their return home.