A Warlord's Heart (8 page)

The taste of him combined with his shaft
buried between her legs was everything Vesa imagined and more. Her
venom sacs swelled and pulsed as she released her sakar. His body
stiffened as he closed his eyes, lost to the sensations. Brows
lowered and mouth parted, Ramar gave a hoarse shout and surged
forward, sliding their bodies across her sheets.

“What have you done, Vesa?” His arms trembled
at the sides of her head and his hips pistoned faster. “It
burns.”

Vesa eased away with a slow lick. She kissed
along his shoulder and bit again. Over and over, Vesa bit Ramar
wherever she could reach. The first bite released her sakar, the
others pushed her venom through his system. Reddish bruises formed
on his skin immediately giving Vesa a sense of possession. His
thrusts lost their steady rhythm and each erratic lunge and pull
dragged against her nerve endings. Vesa grew damp and her lower
region clenched on him as she began to cry out.

Nails pricked his skin as she dug deep,
moving in time with each of his strokes. Higher and higher the
flames built. Overcome with the need to have him experience the
same intensity, Vesa raked her nails down his back. Every feature
tight, Ramar choked and bit his bottom lip. He opened his eyes to
stare down at her as he strained to continue to hold back. For her.
Vesa loved him more in this moment than she’d ever loved
another.

“Ramar!” she screamed as her release washed
over her.

He roared and hot streams filled Vesa before
he collapsed on top of her. Vesa worked to get her breathing under
control but Ramar’s weight pressed into her and left her
wheezing.

“Vesa!” He rolled to the side immediately and
ran his hand over her, eyes worried.

“I’m fine.” Vesa curled into him, loose and
languid as she panted. More than fine.

Ramar settled on the bed and Vesa allowed her
hand to glide over his rising chest, her cheek resting on the arm
he wrapped around her.

“This is the way of bed play?”

Genuine curiosity coated the question. Vesa
answered honestly. “Yes.”

“I was a fool.”

“Yes,” Vesa agreed.

Ramar snorted and squeezed her middle. Vesa
laughed and patted his chest. “I will fix all your foolish
ways.”

He stiffened beneath her, causing Vesa to
lift her head and peer into his eyes. “Ramar?”

He cupped her face. “Argan once claimed he
would willingly be foolish for the woman who owned his heart. I
understand now of what he spoke.”

Vesa twitched in his arms and licked her
lips, gaze intent on the brown eyes staring down at her. The peace
of their pleasure faded, leaving her bereft as she concentrated on
the meaning behind his words. “What are you saying, Warlord?”

“I believe you know my heart, Vesa.”

Blessed One. She turned completely on her
side and sat up. “You care for me?”

He tucked her tangled hair behind her ear.
“Vaan and Balal say Raasa prefer the term love.”

“You love me?”

His lips quirked and Vesa smacked his chest.
When that only produced a barked laugh, she reached up and yanked
on his tousled hair. “Are you telling me you love me?”

Ramar eased up, propping his back along her
head board. The covers slid around his hips hiding the male part of
him. She stared overlong at the rising bulge before forcing her
attention back to their conversation. Vesa didn’t care how her
voice quivered. “Ramar?”

“I have loved you from the first time I held
you in my arms but did not understand the feeling.”

“You spoke truth then. You are a fool!” She
dove forward, arms around his neck, confident he’d catch her.

When Ramar wrapped his arms around her, Vesa
closed her eyes and settled her weight against him. “I love you,
stubborn Warlord.”

Ramar tipped her face up and pressed his lips
to hers. The kiss was short yet sweet because of his awkwardness
with the gesture as he pulled away. “I stand by my vow to sleep
with you tonight but I must speak with Vaan to make sure all is
well.”

With Argan gone, Vaan had named Ramar his new
right hand. Vesa reluctantly moved to the side as he climbed from
the bed and began dressing. Despite his words, fear attempted to
take hold. Her heart clattered around in her chest and the emotions
overwhelmed enough that the question escaped before she could think
better of it. “You really love me?”

Ramar paused in buckling his sword about his
chest. His brown eyes blasted heat across the length of the bed,
proclaiming his feelings. Then he came near and braced one knee on
the sheets and touched her nose. “I love you, Vesa.”

She relaxed and smiled. As soon as Ramar
left, she curled into the sheets heavy with his scent and dozed.
Her day dream centered around the Warlord and the kisses she
planned to claim when he returned. Vesa had just reached the
fatigue that signaled deep sleep when an alarm sounded. All musings
disappeared as she jerked upright. Footsteps thudded outside her
door. Vesa leaped from the bed and used a cloth and bowl of water
to clean herself then frantically tugged on her wrinkled dress.

Panic governing her every move, Vesa fled to
the lower level. Each drill Vaan had gone over in case of an
emergency ran through her mind and Vesa instinctively looked for
Erana and Arane as soon as she entered the dining hall. The few
Warlords lingering in the room jumped to their feet. Plates fell
and shattered on the floor. Raasa and Kabanian alike raced toward
the main door. Something hard slammed into her from behind. Rough
calloused hands cupped Vesa’s elbows and caught her before she hit
the floor.

“Are you well?” Warlord Hanson asked, dark
eyes anxiously going over her.

Vesa barely managed a nod before he took off
following the others outside. She grabbed the sides of her dress
and headed after him. Outside Serel stood on the walkway atop the
gate and blew into the horn again. Below, Tolan worked the gates,
lifting the bar that kept others from entering the compound without
permission.

Chapter 9

When the alarm sounded, Vaan froze. Ramar
broke off what he was saying mid-sentence. Vaan waited to see if
the alarm was in error but again the horn blew and his blood
chilled. Ramar exploded into action and left. Jumping to his feet,
Vaan burst through his office door right behind him, unmindful of
who he knocked aside in his haste. He scanned the dining hall,
searching specifically for two of his Warlords. Their absence in
the melee sent his heart thudding against his chest.

Vaan darted through the Raasa gathering
around in fear and shoved a few more from his path. When he lunged
through the main front door, his Warlords outside shouted and
pointed. Vaan scanned the horizon and their surroundings for
danger. Nothing caught his eyes. His gaze traveled to the gate as
he leaped down the stone stairs, hitting the ground in a crouch
before straightening.

Ramar came up behind Vaan, sword in hand.
Fear pulsed in beats filling Vaan’s blood with dread. He had to
concentrate to ask Ramar, “Where are Balal and Amrod?”

Let them be somewhere within the safety of
the home he’d fortified.

“Kiel said they were last seen going to the
stables with the youngling, Sire.”

The only flaw in Mikayla’s father’s design
was the hapfe stables. They were located on the outside of the gate
that surrounded the Raasa compound. Vaan studied the elaborate
structure his mate spent a large sum of money keeping up to date
for the animals that meant a great deal to her. Perhaps he worried
for naught. But the alarms
had
signaled intruders.

Vaan faced Ramar and dragged in a deep
breath. “We will check the stables.”

A loud boom vibrated on the air. Vaan jerked
his head back around. Flames shot from the red tiled roof as the
stable caught fire then the empty pen next to it. Horror morphed
into agony, ripping apart what little composure he’d maintained.
Vaan roared and ran as if his life depended on it. His Warlords
fell in step behind him and he heard bits and pieces of their
shouted speech.

“Fire
hashi
.”

“The Raasa say they saw riders leaving.”

“No warning.”

Every nerve stood on end. All of their words
meaningless. Tolan had the bar up as Vaan blazed through, feet
pounding. He cut across the distance to the single building, the
spreading fire acting as a beacon as he lunged through the wooden
double doors, banging them back on their hinges and withdrew his
sword. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Vaan came to a halt and
raised his palm, gasping for breath. His Warlords stopped behind
him. The acrid odor of smoke billowed out. The crumpled body of
Wessel, the stable master, partly blocked the entrance.

His youngling. Where were his youngling?

Vaan charged forth, yelling behind him,
“Sulon, check Wessel.”

Sweat beaded on his brow and the knot in his
throat would not loosen. Vaan stormed deeper into the stables,
choking on the pungent air. The hapfe trumpeted in agitation and
kicked at their stalls. They shook their manes as he passed by,
thudding paws against the doors in a bid for freedom. Vaan managed
to flick the latch on each door, releasing them as he ran past. The
floor shook as they stampeded by.

When he reached to the fifth stall, the
coppery scent of blood reached his nostrils. Vaan’s very breath
froze in his throat as he raced forward to kneel by the still body
of Amrod. His Warlord’s chest moved, the coccar armor gleaming
brightly in a sheen of green. Blood seeped from his temple and
matted his hair. “Hanson, see to Amrod.”

Vaan rose to his feet. Fire licked at the
walls, piles of straw adding speed to the blaze. He couldn’t delay.
His mind had one goal, one focus only and it was for his youngling.
He neared the rear of the stables where the equipment was housed on
racks and where Balal had obviously chosen to defend his youngling.
Blessed One. Vaan almost crumpled at the sight that greeted him.
His Warlord lay slumped sideways against the back wall, sword
clenched tight in bloody fingers. Two unknown dead warriors lay in
pools of blood across from him. No Erana or Arane.

Vaan’s gaze searched the area, desperate for
any sign of his youngling. Their absence drilled a hole in his
chest and he threw back his head and roared out his pain. He fought
back tears refusing to give in to the weakness. Ramar rushed by
him, hands flying over Balal, checking his injuries. Vaan remained
standing, every nerve taut as his vision hazed and he descended
into Fenal.

“Find my youngling,” he snarled to the
Warlords around him.

They scattered, performing a more intense
search of the burning stable, each of them hoping, praying to the
Blessed One for a glimpse of green eyes and tiny fangs.

Balal’s eyes blinked open. “Sire, Vaan.”

Vaan inhaled deeply, rage boiling. Ramar
hefted a shoulder under Balal’s arm and helped him to his feet.
“Speak, Balal.”

“K-Kabanians,” Balal coughed. “They
were…Kabanian warriors who attacked.”

Vaan screamed again at this blatant betrayal.
He forced back the beast driving him to destroy. Kill. He needed to
find his enemy first and then not even the Blessed One would have
them.

“The fire, Overlord. We must leave.” Janak
attempted to pull Vaan away but he couldn’t move. Would not
move.

Intense pain scoured his heart and his voice
cracked. “My youngling, Balal. Where are Arane and Erana?”

Vaan listened as Balal explained how he’d
showed the youngling around. With little warning, at least fifteen
raiders snuck in and attacked. He’d hidden the girls in the loft
while Amrod held them off.

Vaan’s heart stuttered as he darted a look at
the wooden rafters above. Fire consumed the entire upper area. He
staggered back a step. Anguish tore through his chest as he turned
toward the lowered ladder.

“No!” Balal shouted and tears welled in his
dark brown eyes. “They came back down to help. To fight.”

Balal pointed with a shaking arm to the
abandoned wooden swords Vaan hadn’t noticed. “The raiders took
Arane and Erana. I failed you, Overlord.”

No. His enemies failed. They had no idea what
they’d started. Vaan allowed his Warlords to force him outside.
When they were feet away, the structure lit up further as flames
crackled and snapped in a final dance, destroying everything it
touched. Water sprayed the area in short bursts.

Maen, Seffi and the other Raasa worked in
coordinated efforts as they pulled on the long levers mounted in
the ground to release water from the lines below and within the
stables. They could handle the fire. A quick count of the animals
milling about confirmed all the hapfe safely out. Vaan didn’t care
that the building was lost. He wanted those responsible.

Breath ragged, he faced the nine Warlords
gathered. Soot covered their grim expressions as they waited for
vengeance on those who’d dare attack them in such a cowardly
manner. “Sulon, Kiel and Janak with me. The rest will stay and
defend our home. I go for my youngling.”

The band of Kabanians couldn’t have gotten
far. He promised war and death. Vaan planned to hunt them down and
feed them to the tarka wolves. “Mount up. We ride.”

Janak brought over four jittery hapfe. A
limping Wessel snapped out a command that had the prancing animals
settled.

Blood smeared Wessel’s face. He paused to
speak to Vaan. “Destroy them, Overlord.”

A fine tremor ran through Vaan’s frame and he
couldn’t respond. Wessel led the rest of the hapfe with a sharp
order inside the gate and the courtyard. Vaan mounted and waited
with restrained violence for the others. Ramar approached, Vesa at
his side, clinging to the warrior’s forearm as tears spilled from
her green eyes. Vaan didn’t have time for lengthy explanations.
“See to Balal and Amrod. We ride on those who have taken my
young.”