A Warlord's Heart (6 page)

“More zanni?” Arane bargained.

Balal jumped to his feet. “I will take them
up, Sire.”

“Not to play,” Vaan warned Balal as Amrod
finished his meal in haste and shoved a piece of meat between his
lips.

Balal’s grin was unrepentant. “Of course,
Sire. Then the hapfe stables when they wake.”

“More hapfe,” Erana repeated, bouncing on her
feet.

His Overlord’s lips pressed together as he
muttered his agreement, “More hapfe.”

Ramar covered his mouth to hide his
humor.

Vaan glared at all those seated at the table.
“I will be in my office if any have need of me.”

Balal bowed and held Erana’s hand while Amrod
held Arane’s and the small group made their way upstairs. Ramar’s
gaze searched for Vesa to see how she reacted to this. Vesa
followed her Su-Su’s lead and tried to keep firm control over the
youngling but the female who claimed his attention was no where to
be found and neither was Maen. A low-throttled growl rolled from
his chest.

Chapter 7

Vesa

Vesa eased away from Maen’s passionate kiss.
They’d snuck away to the hall leading to the kitchen for a moment
of privacy. He opened his eyes at her resistance, smooth brows
crinkled in confusion. She found it hard to meet his green stare
and tugged in his arms until he released her. Vesa smoothed her
hands down the sides of the dress she’d worn with one particular
Warlord in mind.

“I really like you, Maen.”

His fangs sunk into his bottom lip as he
tipped his gleaming head to the side. “But there’s someone
else?”

Vesa sighed. He was so perceptive unlike
another who had a head like one of the rocks outside. “Not
really.”

The other person would have to express an
interest in a relationship for there to be another. Maen’s finger
gently tapped her chin and tilted her face up toward his. “I’ve
made no secret about my feelings for you, Vesa. You held me off
until recently and I thought you weren’t interested.”

She flushed and tried to duck her head but
his grip on her chin firmed. “It’s hard to explain.”

The corner of his lips curled up. He really
was a handsome male. His bald head was perfect in its even
symmetry, the green eyes gazing down at her darkened with passion
whenever they kissed and the lean body beneath his tunic contained
solid muscles from the Overlord’s work outs and training.

“You like the Warlord.” His pupils contracted
into diamond-sharp pinpoints. “I can make you forget him if you
give me one night.”

His flat statement flustered Vesa and she
batted at his hand. Maen dropped his arm to his side but shifted
until he leaned his weight against her and braced his palms on the
wall behind her. This time when he lowered his mouth to hers, the
kiss was anything but gentle. Maen nipped and bit her lips then
trailed kisses from her jaw to the vulnerable column of her
neck.

Teeth grazed the soft skin as he sucked hard
enough to mark. Vesa shivered, her own hands coming up to feather
over his shoulders. His shaft pulsed between her legs and the
subtle thrusting he began left little doubt to what he wanted. Vesa
pushed lightly. He groaned letting her feel more of his weight.
Vesa pushed again and he released her with a muttered curse.

Maen stepped back and gripped the back of his
neck. “I take it you’re refusing my offer.”

Her hands fisted at her side for causing his
frustration. There was only one person to blame for the way she
felt and it wasn’t Maen. “I’m sorry.”

He took another step away, placing more space
between them. Maen made no attempts to hide the bulge in his pants.
He waved his hand between them. “At least tell me what this was
about. I deserve that.”

Heat seared her cheeks as she admitted the
truth of her actions. “I wanted his attention. He’s ignored me time
and time again.”

Maen snorted. “The Warlords aren’t known for
their interest in Raasa sexual habits.”

Vesa’s face burned brighter and Maen’s mouth
popped open before he closed it. “You’ve been with him?”

She nodded helplessly. The night in question
had been far from great but her attraction to the brawny Warlord
continued despite her best efforts to quell the desire.

Maen chuckled. “Then it’s true they lack
skill. Why do you want him?”

“They don’t lack skill,” Vesa snapped. “Their
way is different.”

Maen folded his arms over his chest and eyed
her closely. “I’d almost think you love him but you can’t have been
with him in months.”

“More than a year and some.” Vesa sighed,
thinking of the one night long ago when she and the others couldn’t
resist their fascination for the Kabanian Warlords and the muscled
chests they kept on display by refusing to wear tunics.

“Perhaps you’re in need of a reminder of what
it’s like between Raasa.” Maen came forward and boldly cupped her
breasts, hands groping as they swelled beneath his fingers.
“Nothing compares to the pleasure to be had when we exchange sakar.
The fire in the blood, the rush of desire as fangs bite true.”

Vesa gripped his wrists and he willingly
succumbed to her silent demand to remove his hands. Vesa did enjoy
sex with Raasa males. Their people didn’t hesitate to kiss, touch
and exchange the special venom that acted as an aphrodisiac on
their partners but she knew from Mikayla that Vaan had forbidden
her to bite him and use her venom in the bedroom, which meant the
other Kabanians would feel the same way. She wished knowing that
would push Ramar from her thoughts but none of that mattered,
because Vesa’s heart had decided to work against her brain.

“I’m sorry, Maen.” She really meant her
heartfelt regret and it bore repeating.

He leaned forward to kiss her brow and
stroked the hair back from her face. “Don’t be sorry for following
your feelings.”

When they parted, he hesitated at the door
leading to the dining hall and winked. “You’ll never know of the
pleasure you missed out on.”

Vesa laughed in delight, wishing she could
have developed a connection with Maen. Unfortunately her heart
wanted a stubborn warrior who wouldn’t know a good thing if it
stabbed him. She paused on her way back to the dining hall. Maybe
she should try that. Nothing else seemed to get through to him.

Vesa happily contemplated stabbing Ramar with
his own knife no less when she bumped into a smooth, unyielding
chest. A chest crossed by a black leather harness. She lifted her
eyes and came face to face with the man on her thoughts.

“Did you join with him?” He growled as he
gripped her arms and drew her up on her toes.

Vesa struggled but unlike Maen, Ramar didn’t
let her go easily. She kicked out with her foot and flinched when
she stubbed her toe on his hard boots.

“Be at ease. You will harm yourself,” Ramar
said, instantly going to one knee. He raised her slippered foot and
massaged her toes through the shoe.

“Let me go!” Vesa jerked on her leg as the
sensation of his warm palm sent tingles up her ankles.

Ignoring her demand, he glared up at her
before rising. Vesa had always liked Ramar. He didn’t laugh and
joke as easily as Balal. He wasn’t as shy or cute as Kiel but he
was a far sight less frightening than Argan and Overlord Vaan. His
quiet strength and calm had interested her from the very beginning.
Until he proved to be as cold and hard as she imagined Kavan to be.
Well, Kavan when he wasn’t around Miki and the youngling.

“Go away,” she demanded.

As Ramar stood before her breathing fire,
Vesa had to tamp down on her desire. She wished the Kabanians
weren’t such big men. At least when she argued with another Raasa,
she could look them in the eye without straining her neck.

“I sought only to help you. Perhaps you would
have your Maen assist.” He sneered as he spoke Maen’s name.

Vesa thought steam would come through her
head. “I don’t want Maen. You’re too thick-headed to realize who I
want.”

Dark eyebrows lifted as his eyes widened.
Vesa loved Ramar’s brows. The distinctive lines of hair on his
forehead betrayed his emotions when he least expected but right now
she didn’t love anything about the annoying Warlord.

“Is there another Raasa that you would take
to your bed as well?”

Rolling her eyes, Vesa shoved past him and
stomped down the hall in the opposite direction of the dining area.
The loud thud of his boots assured that he followed. Vesa walked
straight into the kitchen where the noise level increased. Cook
turned at their entrance, dropping a set of pots at Ramar’s
appearance in a domain the Warlords avoided as if they’d sicken by
crossing the threshold.

“Vesa, hold. I would speak with you
further.”

She glanced over her shoulder and a thread of
fear trickled down her back at his dark look. The kitchen only had
one way in and one way out. Ramar stood in the way of her exit if
she wanted to escape. “I have nothing to say to you, Warlord
Ramar.”

“I gave you leave to call me Ramar!” he
yelled, frightening some of the kitchen servants.

Once Vesa reached the back wall of the
kitchen and the black, freezer doors, there was no where else to
go. She spun on her heels and pointed at him. “You can stop yelling
at me. You can stop following me and you can…” she sputtered,
trying to think of something. “Just leave me alone, Warlord!”

He closed in on her with stalking steps,
keeping her cornered between the wall and the freezer. His voice
lowered as he murmured, “This I can not do.”

Vesa hated when his voice became soft. It
made her think he cared.

“Um…Warlord Ramar. Perhaps you should leave
the kitchen. Cook is shutting down until the evening meal.”

Sera’s timid voice came from behind Ramar but
Vesa couldn’t see her friend thanks to Ramar’s bulk filling her
vision. Relief at Sera’s presence caused Vesa to slump back against
the freezer. The Warlords were not big on causing scenes unless it
was the training matches they took part of in the front courtyard
where they tossed one another around on the ground or attempted to
mutilate one another with their weapons.

Ramar made no effort to turn and face Sera.
His eyes narrowed and Vesa trembled beneath his stare. “We will be
a moment, Sera.”

He raised his voice. “Everyone out!”

The tone brooked no refusal. Feminine gasps
reached her ears then footsteps scattered and minutes later they
were alone save for the hum of the freezer at her back. Vesa
straightened and lifted her chin. He had nothing of interest to say
to her. “Let me past.”

“No.” His arms crossed over his chest,
drawing her gaze before she jerked her eyes back up.

“Fine. What do you want?”

Lips turned down, he gifted her with another
fierce glare. “Did you join with Maen?”

Vesa worried one of her fangs with her tongue
then opted for a non-answer. “It’s none of your business.”

Ramar’s fist pounded into his palm. The loud
smack had Vesa jumping as her pulse raced. She licked her lips and
smoothed her hands down her skirts to rid them of the dampness.

“Answer me, Vesa,” he growled, taking a step
forward.

She leaned back, craning her neck. “No. Does
that make you happy?”

He took another step and now their chests
brushed each time Vesa inhaled. Her thighs clamped together and she
clenched her fists to keep from reaching for him. Ramar had no such
qualms and lifted a strand of her midnight-colored hair. “Have you
joined with another Raasa male then? Who has your bed, Vesa? Tell
me.”

He was too close and when he lowered his
head, Vesa closed her eyes in anticipation. She waited for the
press of his lips, the touch of his mouth on hers but there was
nothing. Vesa opened her eyes to find Ramar studying her
intently.

“Your people favor kisses,” he rasped, breath
feathering over her face.

Thankfully, her golden skin tones muted most
of her blush. Vesa gave his chest another hard push, unable to meet
his stare. “You no longer have to worry about what
my people
favor.”

Kabanians didn’t kiss, didn’t believe in
pleasure between a man and woman in the bedroom. She’d heard it all
before. In fact, his beliefs about sex were the main reason Vesa
had ended matters between them after only one night. She yearned
for a partner that would fulfill all her needs and the attraction
she felt for the Warlord had led her to believe he could be her
mate. Unfortunately their time together had proved he held no
interest in pleasing a female in bed. He’d taken his relief and
left Vesa’s bed before she could catch her breath.

After speaking with Mikayla, Vesa understood
his actions were the result of his culture but it didn’t ease the
embarrassment she’d suffered nor did it help to know his Overlord
Vaan and fellow Warlord Balal made their relationships with Raasa
female work while Ramar had done nothing of the kind with her. Of
course she’d made it clear he wasn’t welcome back in her arms but
that was because she’d been so hurt by his cold withdrawal from her
bed.

Vesa lifted her head and blinked away the
moisture gathering.

“You cry?” Ramar’s gaze widened and he
dropped the strands of hair he’d been rubbing to catch the wet
trail of a tear. Another followed the first and Vesa sniffed while
wiping away the evidence of her pain. Her lips twisted. “Don’t
worry, Warlord. I won’t scare you with my emotional outburst.”

Some of the women laughed at how fast the
Warlords ran at the first sign of crying from one of them. Vesa
didn’t feel like laughing now. She ducked under his raised arm,
making her escape. This time she went straight to her room, knowing
he would not follow.

Chapter 8

Ramar

Ramar considered his options as Vesa took
flight. The sight of her tears had an unusual affect. Knowing she
cried because of him sent a sharp pain through his belly. Ramar
pressed a hand to his middle, hoping to ease the ache as his steps
took him to the dining hall. A few Warlords lingered around the
tables but Ramar ignored them when they called out to him. He
searched around, realizing Vesa must have gone to the upper levels
to her bedroom.