Dragon Lords 4-Warrior Prince (27 page)

Zoran, whose body sung with pleasure each time he thought of his beautiful, passionate wife--which was about every three minutes--couldn’t have been more opposite in temperament. He even commanded the men with a small smile on his face, which surely the whole military had noticed. He still was hard, pushing the men to be the best, but there was a gaiety to him that the men had never seen before.

Zoran wanted to make love to his wife almost every waking moment. Even after he’d claimed her and his body was well spent, a small part of him wanted to do it again. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to feel her beneath him, wanted to taste her lips with his. He was addicted. He wanted more of her, wanting to explore the wild untamed depths of her passion.

In the past, he’d never restrained himself when it came to seeking physical pleasures. But the whores he’d been with had been experienced and understood what he wanted. Pia was still innocent. He’d seen the way she reacted that first time, running away crying into the bathroom. Now that he had her trusting him, he didn’t want to risk sending her off just because he had the urge to bend her over the dining room table and take her wildly from behind. Or because he wanted her to tie him up blindfolded and dominate his flesh into a pleasure-pain frenzy.

No, he had to be gentle. Not that gentle was bad--he just knew the other, rougher stuff could hold amazing climatic rewards. However, faced with the prospect of some or nothing, he would gladly take the some and not complain one bit.

Glancing over his shoulder, Zoran watched as Ualan walked off. Nodding to the out of breath soldier his brother had just knocked down, he motioned to him to rise and join the others in hand-to-hand combat.

Zoran looked to the sky, detecting the blue sun’s position. He’d have to wait about another hour before he could knock off early for the day and give the men a break. Thinking of Pia, he smiled, suddenly having the strangest urge to run home.

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Zoran rushed home. The last hour of practice had been torment as his body jolted with the excitement and promise of his desire. The training period was nearing its end and Zoran would be given a long break, which he planned on spending with his wife, so long as there was no war to be fought. He was happy to report to his father that nearly a quarter of the men were ready for their final testing. It was an impressive group that would be moving on, joining the official ranks of the army.

The training session had lasted three years. Those who didn’t move went on for another three years--though that wasn’t unusual. It was normal for the Draig legions to spend twelve or more years mastering their basic skills before moving to a more specialized field.

Instantly, his Draig senses detected Pia in the exercise room. Envisioning her body glistening with sweat, his body surged. Dropping his sword on the table, he went for her.

Pia was punching at the punching bag and didn’t hear him. He heard her mumbling to herself, but he couldn’t make out the words. A big smile on his masculine face, he watched her back side flex with a kick. She’d been working out a lot lately and he could definitely see a difference from when she’d first arrived.

"Hello, Pia," he said softly, his voice automatically dipping into the low, come-hither tone that usually sent chills along her spine.

Pia stiffened. Her arms dropped and she didn’t turn to him. Looking down, she slowly unwound the protective bandages from her hands.

Zoran’s smile deepened and he took a step forward.

"Dare to touch me again, dragon," she said in a low tone, before turning to glare at him, "and I promise to send your nose into the back of your skull."

Zoran’s smiled faltered in puzzlement, surprised by the evilness of her dark tone and by the way her eyes were looking emotionlessly at him.

Pia’s gaze dared him to try and touch her. He didn’t move as she came toward him, thinking maybe she was playing a game. But, then, to his surprise, she continued past. Without a backwards glance she went into the bathroom, shut the door on him, and turned on the shower.

Zoran moved to follow her. Sliding open the door, he stepped into the bathroom. Her clothes were stripped from her body, piled on the floor, and she was scrubbing her skin with an incensed fury.

"Pia?" he questioned, worried.

"Get away from me, Zoran," she said, turning to work on her hair. She lathered it with the same incensed passion she’d given her skin before quickly rinsing it. "If you take a step closer, one of us won’t be leaving this bathroom alive."

"Pia," Zoran said darkly. She put conditioner in her hair and quickly rinsed it. Demanding, he asked, "What goes on here?"

Pia threw open the door, glorious in her wet nakedness. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her body.

"Out of my way, Zoran." Her sinister expression spoke volumes.

"Not until you tell me what’s going on," he countered, crossing his hands over his chest. He stared at her menacingly.

Pia was still too angry to take heed. Blinking deceptively, she dropped the towel and strode toward him. Zoran’s eyes automatically dipped down her body to watch it. His mouth became dry. She stepped up to him and stopped.

"According to you," she stated with false sweetness. "Nothing goes on here at the palace. Everything is fine."

Pia’s lips curled into an instant snarl and she gave him a mighty shove. Zoran, who had been staring at her heaving breasts, thinking how much he wanted to push her up against the counter and rough ride her, was taken off guard. He lost his balance. His arms flailed as he tumbled backwards into the hot spring.

Pia didn’t turn back as she heard him splash. His dark curses followed. A slight smile of shallow victory came to her face as she went to the bedroom and shut the door. Taking the dresser, she pushed it in front of the screen to block him from entering. Then, she dressed slowly into some comfortable cotton drawstring pants and a loose shirt, and went to bed early.

 

* * * *

 

"None of the men will fight us," Zoran said irritably to his brothers. He glanced from Ualan to Olek and then back again. He’d just spent one very long and uncomfortable night on the couch. Pia had locked him out of his own room. When he ordered her to let him in, she’d just laughed and told him to get lost. Then, that morning when he said he needed to get a change of clothes, she’d stuffed his tunic through a shallow opening between the sliding door and the top of the dresser. Snarling to his brother, he growled in irritation. "They say our mood is too black. They are frightened we will kill them."

Zoran looked over at the men who had carefully edged across the exercise field to get away from the angry Princes. He couldn’t say he blamed them. But it didn’t mean he had to like it. Their frowns deepened. With the only outlet for their rage quickly retreating, they were stuck.

"What the hell are we supposed to do now?" Olek growled, voicing their sentiments as he stormed away to the palace. Zoran and Ualan were quick behind him.

 

* * * *

 

Olek and Nadja’s home was filled with lush plant life and giant fish tanks that took up an entire two walls. In the center of the front hall was a natural water fountain, relaxing and calm in its resplendent beauty. It did nothing to soothe the sour temperaments of the four Princesses.

Looking around at the other high-backed chairs, Pia noticed the other women looked as dismal as she felt, especially Morrigan whose unusually pale face and red eyes screamed that she was hung-over. Stretching her arms over her head, Morrigan yawned. It was the most movement she’d made in awhile.

"Hienrich is now training as a soldier. I released him from his duty to us," Pia said in answer to a question about the boy.

Olena didn’t understand, but the others nodded in understanding.

"So, have any of your husbands lied to you about whom they were?" the dejected Princess Olena asked. She was the newest member to their miserable ranks. Her red hair was pulled back into a bun and her green eyes flashed with continuous mischief, even when she wasn’t up to something. She looked none the worse for wear after her ordeal with the kidnappers, but she also wasn’t speaking of it.

"I thought mine was a prison guard," Pia chuckled darkly to herself. Just another one of Zoran’s lies.

"I used to call mine a gardener," Morrigan mused, tucking her hand beneath her head on the high-backed chair. Mumbling softly, she said so as not to disturb her delicate head, "And a caveman."

The women chuckled. Nadja just blushed shyly, and admitted, "I call mine a dragon."

"They’re all dragons, if you ask me." Morrigan winked at Nadja.

Nadja halfheartedly laughed as she rose to answer a summons from the door. Blinking in surprise to see the Queen, she allowed her in.

Mede stepped into the intimate circle of women and nodded. "I heard you all were hiding out here."

Pia turned her eyes down, not wanting the woman to try and cheer them from their mutual sulk. Misery loves company and the Princesses were beyond miserable.

"How’s Yusef?" Olena asked, suddenly blushing at the outburst. She refused to glance around at her comrades.

"Still awake," the Queen answered. "And still with his brothers. They speak of fighting and fighting always makes warriors happy, for it’s something they know how to do."

Olena nodded, leaning back in her chair and trying to pretend like she didn’t care either way. No one was fooled.

Mede glanced at the hung-over Morrigan and raised her delicate brow slightly. Morrigan had to turn away. To her credit, the Queen said nothing.

Nadja suddenly asked if anyone wanted something to drink. Morrigan balked and instantly declined, turning a shade paler. They all laughed, despite their mood.

"No, dear, we’re fine," the Queen answered. Silence followed. Mede was disappointed that the women weren’t going to continue to talk freely. She’d heard their soft laughter and had been anxious to be a part of it. She knew the women were troubled in their own ways. She couldn’t blame them. Her sons were great men, but were sometimes too stubborn for their own good. Announcing, she said, "Daughters."

The Princesses looked at her expectantly. Pia’s eyes narrowed as she studied the Queen. Mede came forward and took a seat amongst them, looking them over in turn.

"Enough of this. This planet is in desperate need of more women and I intend to see that each one of you explores the power you possess," the Queen said.

Pia sat forward in curiosity to hear the woman out.

"Your husbands are warriors," Mede stated. "I expect each of you has a clear idea now of what that means. But just because they made the rules, doesn’t mean you can’t use them. You have more power than you think. So, tell me your problems with my sons and I’ll give you the Qurilixen solution. I think it’s time that the royal woman had the upper hand for once."

Pia lowered her eyes, thinking about that. If she gave the Queen a chance it was possible she could have a very powerful ally. It was time she got the upper hand against Zoran. No more of this sulking! She was going to beat the warrior at his own game!

Slowly, one by one, the women smiled, growing more and more trusting of the earnest Queen. The Queen nodded, happy. Yes, this was how it was supposed to be with daughters. She’d waited too many years to let her sons ruin her plans for a giant family.

"Pia," the Queen began, looking pointedly at the woman. In that moment, Pia was well aware the Queen knew her hesitance for her, but was being patient. "Why don’t you go first?"

Pia sat up, looking around at her new family. Something struck inside of her. This was exactly what she wanted. It’s what her life had been missing ever since her world exploded that night all those years ago. She wanted a home. She wanted a place to belong and to fight for. And--to coin one of Zoran’s phrases--by all that was sacred, she was going to have it, whether her commander of a husband liked it or not.

 

* * * *

 

Zoran hurried home, his heart hammering in his chest. He’d been visiting with Olek and Yusef in the medical wing, waiting for Yusef to get the final results from his most resent blood test so that he could leave the medical ward, when his mother’s servant came to retrieve him.

Leading him into the hall, the servant had given him a missive from his mother. It said the Queen had been to his house and there was an emergency at home. She didn’t write what, but that it had something to do with Pia and a sword.

Thinking she’d hurt herself again, he ran to be with her. The door slid open and he rushed in, his heart thudding in fear, his whole body tense. His eyes flew to the couch, remembering how he’d come home to find her with the medic.

Urgently, his hoarse voice called out, "Pia!"

"In here," came the soft answer from his bedroom. He looked, seeing that the door was no longer blocked. Rushing forward, his eyes were desperate to see for themselves that she was well. Once in the bedroom, his eyes darted around. Nothing.

Suddenly, a sword poked into his back. Pia’s voice washed over him, as she commanded, "Move and I’ll skewer you."

Zoran tensed, ready to do battle. Her next words stopped him from disarming her.

"Prince Zoran, Captain of the Guard, you are now my prisoner," Pia stated. Behind him, she grinned. She wore one of his dark tunics with a red dragon surrounded by a shield on the chest and nothing else. Her bare legs poked out from beneath the folds. Her eyes unabashedly roamed over his firm backside.

The Queen had been most helpful in her advice to the Princesses and now that Pia had a plan of action, she felt three-hundred percent better. Mede told her that with a man like Zoran, she needed to be bold. She had to command the commander, conquer the conqueror in order for him to respect her completely.

Zoran was used to being in charge, doing what he wanted, having every order followed. Her husband answered only to one man, the King. So, in order to earn his trust and his respect, she had to be the one in charge--bold and unflinching, in absolute control. She had to make him realize that he had to answer to someone much more important than a King. He had to answer to a wife.

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