A Warlord's Heart (10 page)

Shaina came over to stand by Argan’s side,
silver eyes sympathetic.

Argan repeated the devastating phrase.
“Rebels have taken the youngling.”

Miki screamed and lost it. She fell to her
knees, fingers digging into the ground as the pain and fear of her
earlier premonitions assailed her. Arms came around her shoulders
but she struggled and shoved to her feet. Bands of steel clasped
her waist as she choked back a sob and fought the hold.

“Listen to me, Mikayla. You know Vaan will
get them back.” Argan whispered the vow in her ear, shaking
her.

Breath choppy, she stopped fighting as his
words sunk in.

“You know him. My Overlord will not let this
go. Vaan will seek retribution and they will pay. You know
this.”

And she did. Miki trusted her mate with all
her heart but it didn’t stop the aching pit in her stomach from
spasming. “My youngling. How did this happen?”

They should be safe. All they knew was safety
in those around them.

Argan’s slowly released her. “I do not know
the whole of it. Vaan sent word that I bring you home quickly. He
wants you protected.”

“I’m fine.” Miki steeled herself. A wave of
calm rolled through her. Vaan would bring her girls home. She had
faith in him. Those who took Arane and Erana would suffer when her
mate caught them. Of that she had no doubt.

After Miki had herself back in control, Argan
nodded. Kavan had ceased cursing and pulled his sword from the
ground to sheath it in his chest harness. Miki shivered at the way
his dark eyes glowed and the waves of retribution rolled from
him.

“I must get back, Argan.”

Merik gathered the leads on all the hapfe.
Hapani used her head to butt Miki’s shoulder sensing her
distress.

“Shaina and I will take everyone to the Raasa
compound,” Argan stated.

Miki frowned. “How?”

This time, Argan’s bride spoke. “The shadows
of course.”

Chapter 10

Vaan shifted impatiently as Kiel stopped his
hapfe in the middle of the path they’d been tracking and went to
one knee on the ground. The longer they took the longer his
youngling were in danger. When Kiel’s fingers pried at the grass
and held up a dirty strip of green, air seized in his chest. Vaan
easily recognized the cloth from the dresses Erana and Arane had
worn.

The Warlords with him seethed in anger.

“How far, Kiel?” Vaan asked.

“Up ahead. They have stopped to make
camp.”

Kiel rose and leaped into the saddle, urging
his hapfe into a full-blown gallop but it wasn’t fast enough for
Vaan.

“They are mine,” Vaan warned.

His Warlords’ eyes glowed with the passion of
Fenal but they inclined their heads in agreement. Vaan wasn’t
certain they could hold to the promise. All of them rode the wave
of battle rage, suppressing it until they could get his youngling
back.

Janak eased forward, bringing his hapfe next
to Vaan as they slowed to a canter, stealth more a factor than
speed at this point of the hunt. “Tell us what you need,
Overlord.”

“Blood,” Vaan spat.

Janak thumped a fist against his bare chest.
“Amrod and Balal took care of two. We would help you with the
others.”

Vaan was unsure of the number they faced but
considered Janak’s request. Saran had warned that rebel bands of
warriors filled with discontent were attacking villages. Vaan
trusted his brother would deal with them and had not thought they’d
be bold enough to cross Raasa land where it was known he made his
home among them.

To take his youngling was a blatant insult
and one he’d not ignore. Just the thought had the edges of battle
rage blurring his vision. Vaan wanted to decimate the warriors who
moved against him with this deliberate attack. There was no doubt
they took his youngling for ill purpose to draw his attention.

Now they had his full attention. Their
actions sealed their death even if the use of fire
hashi
had
not already done so. Worry for his youngling stayed the command he
wished to issue that they destroy the encampment on arrival. Sulon
nudged his hapfe until all three Warlords gathered close.

Thinking hard on his actions, Vaan said,
“Save the leader who planned this for me. The others are yours. My
enemies will never seek to take action against me again when we are
done.”

“It will be as you say. We vow it,” Janak
affirmed.

The others chimed in with their vow in
unison.

In that moment Vaan slipped deeper into
Fenal. “Show them no mercy. Make it painful,” he demanded.

“Yes, Overlord.”

Vaan tightened his hands on the leads and
clenched his teeth. Soon. His vengeance was coming.

***

Vesa

Vesa’s tears had long since dried as the day
wore on without word of Vaan and the youngling. She’d helped Assa
with the care of Balal and Amrod, although they’d been unable to
keep Balal in bed despite his injuries. The Warlord blamed himself
and refused to leave the main hall where he’d taken a seat,
shoulders slumped. Knowing he’d killed two when he was outnumbered
hadn’t stirred him.

Blood stained the bandage on Balal’s head and
smudges marred his chest from smoke. Assa stood beside him as he
leaned his face against her middle. She had her arms wrapped around
him, running her fingers through his hair. Occasionally, her friend
would bend and whisper in his ear. The sight caused Vesa a pang of
longing.

“Are you well, Vesa?”

Vesa jumped, then glanced over her shoulder
to see the Warlord she craved. Ramar looked beaten. He’d pinned his
hair back up after their time together but, like Balal, had not
taken the time to wash away the grime of the fire. Ashes covered
his chest in streaks and black stained his fingers. “I’m well.
Worried though.”

Ramar shifted his gaze past Vesa to see Balal
and Assa. “He blames himself and Amrod is not well enough to get
out of bed, though he argues adamantly. Amrod sustained the most
injuries taking on the warriors, while Balal sought to hide Arane
and Erana.”

Vesa had heard the tale and admired the
Warlords’ actions even more. Ramar may not have been in the stables
during the attack but Vesa sensed he blamed himself as well. All of
the Warlords did for that matter.

The front doors opened and everyone tensed.
Balal jerked his head up, eyes hopeful. It was only Raasa and
Warlords completing their shifts and patrols. Ramar had increased
the number walking the perimeter and acting as lookout. One or two
Warlords made eye contact with Balal and nodded while a couple
others started a game of dilek. It was odd to only have a handful
of the burly warriors around when their presence always seemed
larger than life.

Her gaze shifted to her fellow Raasa. They
gathered in small huddles throughout the room. Surprisingly they
didn’t appear as upset as the Kabanians. Vesa stared a moment
longer in confusion until it hit her. They trusted the Overlord.
Not Miki’s mate but the Overlord because that’s who’d ridden out
from the Raasa compound, eyes lit with an inner fire that almost
turned the black orbs red. Every Raasa in the room had complete
faith that the Overlord would bring back the youngling who
enchanted all with their bright smiles and laughter

Their deep faith overwhelmed Vesa because she
too believed in him. Vesa turned to face Ramar and hugged him. He
didn’t hesitate and enfolded her in an embrace that offered comfort
and a sense of safety.

“Are you sure you are well, Vesa?” he
repeated his earlier question.

She nodded then froze when Ramar shuddered,
squeezing her tighter. Vesa didn’t complain. Though he hid it well,
her fierce Warlord worried as did all of them. She tipped her head
up. “Were you able to reach Argan?”

“Yes. He will bring Mikayla and the others
back.”

Vesa didn’t understand the magic Argan’s
woman wielded but if it brought home friend here sooner she would
be ever grateful. Taking a deep breath and unable to handle the
tension growing in the hall, she eased from Ramar’s confining hold.
“You should rest.”

Lines of strain bracketed his mouth and he’d
been giving orders since Vaan’s departure.

“I need to keep watch,” he protested and
glanced around.

Vesa followed his gaze but there was nothing
that wouldn’t keep. “At least bathe and I shall have cook prepare
meat pies.”

Vesa managed to swallow her distaste at the
mention of the warriors’ favorite meal. The dish consisted of
savory meat cooked in gravy made from more meat and baked in a
flaky crust. Nothing the vegetable and fruit loving Raasa would
touch but it was worth it to see Ramar’s brown eyes lighten.

He struggled with the decision to leave and
Vesa clasped their hands together. “We won’t be gone long.”

With a heavy sigh that spoke to the weight on
his shoulders and tugged at her heart strings, Ramar finally
allowed Vesa to lead him upstairs and to his room. She’d never been
in here before this moment. His bed was neatly made, navy blue
sheets folded in smooth edges at the corners. The stark room held
nothing more than scattered clothing, weapons cluttered on every
available space and a plethora of hair ties. She’d ordered a tub
filled with hot water sent ahead. He paused when he caught sight of
the bath at the center of his space.

“Vesa,” he breathed, closing his eyes on an
exhale before opening them. Her heart clutched at the way he looked
at her. “You honor me.”

It wasn’t much but she’d do anything to ease
him. Bustling around the room to pick up his discarded leathers and
not letting him see how his words affected her, Vesa snapped out
orders. “Take off your sword. Remove everything, Warlord.”

He smirked before complying as she gathered
the folded towels and cloths. Vesa held up three peach colored
balls that she’d requested from another Raasa female. “These have
oils that will help you relax.”

Ramar almost hid his flinch. Vesa’s mouth
curved up. The warriors became youngling about anything not
familiar to their home of Kaban but the scented soaps would make
him feel better and that was her goal.

When he stood completely bare, Vesa paused to
appreciate his physique as he crossed the room. Corded muscles
flexed with each step Ramar took, his shaft nestled among dark
curls. He stretched his broad back, cracking bones with an ear
wincing pop before he climbed into the tub with a deep groan. Vesa
wet her lips and tried to slow her racing heart. Ramar for his part
leaned back until his neck rested on the wide lip of the tub and
closed his eyes, arms braced on the sides.

Vesa hurried over and went to her knees by
him, pushing her skirt up to keep it away. She dropped two of the
balls into the tub and used the third to scrub on the cloth. Its
light fragrance rose immediately between them enhanced by the heat
of the water. Initially, Vesa kept her desire under control as she
stroked the wet cloth over his dirt covered chest. She washed away
what the smoke left behind, stopping to admire the red marks from
their passion. Scratches and love bruises marred his neck and
shoulders.

Damp tendrils clung to Vesa’s temple as she
focused on her effort to care for him, using the cloth to glide
down his legs and the light dusting of slickened hair, even his
toes provided a moment of fascination. When it came time to clean
between his legs, Vesa couldn’t help her hum of appreciation. The
thick length twitched beneath the soapy water, drawing her
attention to Ramar’s face. His lids lifted to half-mast and though
drowsy there was no missing the heat of his gaze. She cupped his
sex and continued cleaning, all the while staring into his
eyes.

“You tempt this Warlord, Raasa.”

Vesa grinned and dropped the cloth with a
plop as she moved to crouch behind him. “We will do your hair
next.”

With nary a fuss, Ramar bent his knees and
slid down further in the tub until he submerged his head. When he
sat up, his hand swiped through the wet length, smoothing it back
in a sleek sheet of black. Vesa stared in awe, which is how Ramar
caught her when he turned behind him.

Her neck burned in embarrassment and heat
filled her face when he gave her a sly smile. Vesa leaned forward
and made quick work of washing his hair, though the very softness
tempted her to stray longer. When no scent of smoke lingered, she
rose to her feet and reached for a towel.

Vesa held the length open. “Stand and I will
dry you.”

Ramar huffed out a laugh but stood. Both
their gazes dropped to the hardened evidence of his arousal. “Your
soap did not relax me.” He arched a brow as he lifted his legs over
the tub. “Or mayhap your stroking negated the impact.”

Vesa hid another smile, drying him with
efficient, brisk motions. Satisfied at last, she scooped up the wet
linen and piled it to the side to remove later. With her back
turned, she missed Ramar moving toward her but there was no missing
the arms that came around her middle and pulled her back against a
very aroused Warlord.

He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder, Vesa
tipping her head to give him free access. When his tongue licked
her sensitive skin, she moaned weak from the pleasure and would
have fallen to the floor if not for his firm grasp. His forearms
went taut, easily catching her slight weight as he muffled a
chuckle. “It would seem the soap did not relax you either,
Vesa.”

Vesa spun around, loving this playful side of
him. “Perhaps we can both relax by other means.”

Heat surged between them as he took her
meaning.

***

Ramar

Ramar thought he’d prepared himself for what
to expect with the female he’d wanted for so long. Instead, he
found himself out of his element despite their earlier bed play.
Fortunate for him, Vesa had no such doubt and tugged on his wrist
to lead him to the bed. Hands caressing his shoulders once there,
she pushed slightly and Ramar promptly sat on the edge of the
mattress.