Tested by the Night (2 page)

Mia lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Of all the choices presented to her, Queen Adrina’s Challenge had to have been the one path least expected of her to take. But then, why would anyone in their right mind ever think it was a good idea to choose a three part, only ever successfully accomplished once quest, to earn the right to rule over simply choosing a man to do it for her? For God Draka knew barbarian woman weren’t qualified or worthy to rule over barbarian men unless they had first proven themselves.

To VoT with the lot of them!

It truly wasn’t fair. Any barbarian male, be he handsome or not, rich or poor, young or old, good or bad, smart or an idiot, as long as he was more barbarian than he was anything else and chosen by the female heir as her mate, could become king and rule Alaria with her sitting docilely at his side. All he had to do was be willing to wed her.

While she wasn’t deemed worthy to rule the land by virtue of her sex, even though she’d spent years taking diplomacy classes and watching her father rule. She cared about her people. She always had. She’d be fair. She’d be just. She’d be a good ruler. Could she be one-hundred percent certain that whichever man she someday chose would do the same? No.

She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes. Why did there have to be such a double standard within the barbarian community? If Zander hadn’t abdicated, all he would’ve had to do was chose a barbarian mate and rule over his kingdom. Why couldn’t Mia do likewise?

After all, they’d both had the same exact training in kingdom finances, serf handling, crop rotations, diplomatic practices, the procuring of good help, and sexual theory as it pertained to the procreation of the next heir. She’d even been properly deflowered at precisely the exact age she was supposed to. Not a moment before or a moment after.

She wasn’t some silly little innocent who didn’t know what went on in the world, especially when it came to what happens between a man and a woman. She’d passed all of her sexual theories and practices classes with flying colors. And if truth be told, she could more than hold her own between the sheets. None of it had mattered, though. No one had expected her to ever truly be in direct line for the throne.

It mattered now, however, and the fact that she hadn’t been important in the scheme of things before didn’t seem to be a deterrent to the hordes of sudden interest she’d received since word of Zander’s abdication leaked.

For days now, there had been a steady flow of eligible barbarian men, aspiring to someday become king, traipsing through the castle. Just hoping for a few moments of her time so they could plead their case and convince her they were the very best candidate to sit upon
her
throne. She couldn’t even go downstairs for a meal without getting accosted, propositioned, or bored to death.

That was one of the main reasons she’d given up on dating in the first place and had kept herself celibate for more than two years now. Barbarian men were fickle creatures, they were heartless, they were cruel, and they always had their own agendas. Barbarian men like…

She sighed and forced the memory of hair the color of spun gold, eyes the same shade as a cloudless sky, and a smile as bright, yet as fleeting, as the beams of moonlight flittering across her room this very second.

Barbarian men, they only ever showed attention when they wanted something from a woman or they wanted her in their bed. And when they didn’t get whatever they were after, they were done with her. Especially if she were no more than the
spare
to the heir.

That’s one of the main reasons she had religiously practiced her mystic spells over the past couple of years along with her other studies. It was important to maintain self-control at all times. She needed to be in complete charge of her faculties, and she needed to be able to discern when someone was lying to her, just in case something like this next in line to the throne business really did come to pass.

And that’s why she needed a complete stranger so badly tonight. She needed a man she didn’t have to worry was after her throne. A man from the castle’s overly abundant personal needs stock. A barbarian paid to service her.

She needed him to get here, and she needed him to get here now.

Mia glanced at the hourglass and watched as a smattering of sand grains continued to trickle through it. She pressed her legs tightly together and squirmed. Her breath quickened, her heart pounded, her palms itched, and her clit throbbed with need.

Two years had been a very long time, and God Draka help her, but after glimpsing all those oh-so-handsome barbarians running rampant throughout her castle, she really did need a good old-fashioned, but totally meaningless, fuck to get her through the night.

****

Queen Adrina’s Challenge?

What the VoT could little Mia Hammerstrike be thinking?

Talon meandered through the hallways of the huge drafty Alarian castle, trying his best to prolong his arrival at the door of the dreaded chamber. Even though it was late evening, he had promised Zander he’d present himself to his sister the moment he arrived.

God Draka, he hoped he didn’t awaken and frighten the poor little thing.

He sighed. What had possessed the lass to ever make her think she could do Queen Adrina’s Challenge? It was a VoT hard quest, concentrating on heart, diplomacy skills, and might. It had only ever been accomplished successfully by one other person in the last nine-hundred years. And that one person had been Queen Adrina herself.

Born the only child of the king of the barbarians, Adrina was ambitious, beautiful, and very smart. Knowing barbarian law declared only a male could rule, she devised a challenge and presented it before the council of dukes, earls, and barons.

All any man wishing to become her mate and possibly the
ruling
king had to do was sit back and wait for her to fail before presenting himself. But if she successfully completed the challenge, then whatever man she chose would not only take his seat at her side, but he’d take her name in place of his own. She’d be the one to sit upon the throne of Alaria, and she’d be the one to rule over the barbarian people. Their queen.

After Adrina agreed to make sure all of the proceedings were completely fair by having the three events witnessed by someone of the council’s choosing, the council members had unanimously sanctioned her challenge.

With his musings, the door to Mia’s chamber stood before Talon much sooner than he’d anticipated. He raised his fist, poised to knock.

He shook his head again. Little Mia Hammerstrike? Contemplating taking on something as nearly impossible as Queen Adrina’s Challenge? The barbarian princess and now heir to the throne of Alaria had obviously lost her pretty little mind. Zander was right. There was no way she could win. How in the VoT was he going to convince her to give up this crazy scheme and simply choose an acceptable male to rule in her place?

It had been at least four years since he’d last walked the halls of this castle, had last set eyes on Zander’s little sister. Back then she’d been a shy, meek, little thing, still a ways from womanhood, more pigtails and knobby knees than siren, seductress, or queen.

Yet, the vaguest memory of vibrant, ass-length candy-apple red hair, hauntingly beautiful lips and piercing eyes more gray than blue had hinted at what she would someday become. The thought invaded his mind and had his cock springing to life. Mia Hammerstrike would be no child now. She’d be twenty-one and full grown.

“Down boy,” he warned his cock. Full grown or not, if he were being truthful with himself, he’d have to admit he wasn’t worthy to even look upon Princess Mia’s face, let alone allow lust for the lass to enter his mind, and he’d better not forget it. For God Draka’s sake, she’d someday take her rightful place beside the next king of Alaria. She wasn’t for the likes of him.

And what of him?

Where would Talon Starkweather be those long years from now when King Adan was gone and Mia took her rightful place? Not at her side, that was for certain. Though good enough to protect and possibly even to teach a princess how to defend herself, the descendant of a well-known traitor wasn’t worthy to actually serve in any other capacity.

He shook his head, took a deep breath, and rapped three times.

Oh, yes, Talon knew exactly where he’d be. Other than the hard-earned title of trusted best friend and guardian to Zander Hammerstrike, Talon was now and would always be the too many great-greats to remember grandson of Flint Starkweather, the barbarian accused as traitor to his people and the real cause behind the Castle Kuropkat War. And as such, Talon was considered by many to be no better than a traitor himself. Blood is as blood does.

After this job was finished, he’d travel back to Castle Kuropkat where his long ago ancestor had made that fatal mistake, and he’d return the little creature who’d followed him home from there. That was, if the blasted thing even still waited for him at The Academy. And from there, he’d travel on to Halla and take his rightful place at Zander’s side, away from barbarian politics and pretty little princess. And he’d do it with his debt of honor to his friend finally paid in full.

“Come in.” A voice as sweet as a spring time shower beckoned from somewhere beyond the door.

Talon turned the knob and straitened his spine. He could do this. He could. After all, he’d fought giants, he’d slain enemies too numerous to count, he’d stood back to back with Zander in more arenas than he could even begin to remember. This was simply a teach-the-princess-to-defend-herself-and-keep-her-safe-while-decieving-her-and-ruining-her-chances-to-ever-rule kind of job. How hard could it be?

He swung open the door, and his heart thudded to a complete stop. His breath caught in his chest. Princess Amelia Zoe Cassidy Hammerstrike wasn’t all pigtails and knobby knees anymore. The woman standing across the room from him—right next to a huge four-poster bed—and looking anxious was mind-bogglingly, breathtakingly, the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes upon.

Her hair was no longer a pair of vibrant red pigtails, but that didn’t make it any less impressive. Now, it hung loose, down past her slender waist, and it flowed in wave after wave of rich, dark cinnamon delight.

His cock sprung to life as his fingers itched to run through every single strand, to tug, to yank upon them, to use them to pull her down. And when he had her right where he wanted her? Then he’d do what he was so well known for. He’d cover her with his body, possess her, make her cry out in pleasure, and make her his own.

And her lips… God Draka help him, but her lips were even plumper, pinker, and if possible, more temptingly kissable than when he’d seen her last. And the fact she chose that very moment to slide the tip of her tiny, pink tongue out to wet both of those luscious lips had his balls aching and his cock stretching and hardening too VoT fast.

He gulped as he looked her in the eye. The same blue-gray depths that had once twinkled with innocence now burned with something much less naive and much more carnal.

He stood transfixed, awaiting with anticipation her words of greeting. Would she even remember him?

“It’s about time you got here, barbarian. Get naked and be quick about it. I have a powerful need to fuck…now!”

His breath left him, like a hard punch to the gut. She didn’t know who he was? How could she not remember him? He’d certainly never forgotten her.

If he were truly an honorable man, he’d turn on his heel this very moment and walk out the door. To VoT with Mia Hammerstrike and her stupid challenge to become a ruling queen someday. To VoT with the promise he’d made to Zander. And double VoT to any woman who looked at him as if he were simply a slab of meat here to service her pretty, little ass.

Talon sighed. Not that he hadn’t looked that exact same way at more women than he could even begin to remember. But being on the receiving end of that particular facial expression was harder than he’d imagined.

But God Draka help him, she was beautiful. Her body was perfectly proportioned in all the right places. Her ample breasts were high, her waist tiny, her hips just wide enough to firmly grasp while thrusting deep into what would most assuredly be an amazing pussy between those amazing legs.

He hardened even further, and for a moment, a sense of guilt flooded him.

He should tell her exactly who he was, and that his purpose in her room had nothing whatsoever to do with servicing her.

But then she tapped her cute little toe and placed her hands on her hips. “Barbarian? You do realize it isn’t polite to keep your princess waiting, don’t you?”

Well, Zander had told him to do whatever Mia asked. And there really was no better time than the present to begin his…task. And though perhaps not quite as nicely as he was used to, she certainly was asking for it. And after all, didn’t he first need to earn her trust before he could ever begin to shred it into a million pieces?

Before one more grain of sand had the opportunity to shift through the hourglass, his belt, sword, and kilt all clattered to the floor. He kicked free of his boots, and naked as the day God Draka made him, Talon Starkweather slowly sauntered toward the princess.

He didn’t wish to move too quickly. He was half afraid he’d scare her off and half afraid he wouldn’t.

Though he was without a doubt the direct descendant of a traitor, he knew himself to be, first and foremost, a man of honor. Even if this job he was about to undertake was one heartbeat away from honorable, in and of itself, he’d freely given his word to Zander, and undertake it he would. But he was also a fair man, and he’d give Princess Mia Hammerstrike the time it took for him to walk across the room to remember who he was, and change her mind.

But not a moment longer.

Chapter Two

Mia’s mouth went desert dry as the gloriously naked man made his way toward her. His cock swaying back and forth like a large angry cobra ready to strike and the gleam in his eyes promised that pouncing upon her was precisely what he was about to do. She shivered in anticipation.

Oh, my God Draka, where had this fine specimen of barbarian male fortitude come from? The outer providences most likely. Halla or Bane perhaps? After all, they did tend to grow slightly bigger barbarians in the higher altitudes. At least that’s what she’d been told.