by Jewel Adams
Feeling tired and dirty, the decision was easy. The armor and weapons dropped quickly around her tanned bare legs. Only the knife belt remained about her waist, making the white smock flare out about her hips. Unable to resist the waiting pleasure she pulled away the helmet, releasing waist length waves of thick, midnight rich hair.
Her dive was clean and silent into the deep blue water. The strokes expert as they glided across the mirrored surface.
~*~
Startled by the unexpected vision, Wylan’s black eyes heated over the impact. Unable to tear his gaze or senses clear of the ethereal movements, he gave up the struggle and savored the rare event. Like mystical wings, the slim arms and delicate hands cut soundlessly through the water, making him look at his own massive ones in comparison.
“An elamie?” The breathless admission caused his muscles to ripple in stunned awareness. The flowing cloak of black silk above the sleek white, cloudy shape of her body firmed the proud arrogant features of his chiseled face. The hidden beauty was not a vision, the whimsical laughter floating across the pool to his hiding place proved all too real. Awareness ripped through his corded body, forcing his eyes to search the opposite bank for her protector. The strange large beast he found instead, didn’t diminish the warnings silently bombarding his senses.
Never taking his attention away from the elamie, still enjoying her believed privacy in the pool, Wylan made his way soundlessly through the brush, freezing when the obvious large guard on the opposite bank rose up to his full height. The beast’s large black nostrils sniffed and vibrated in the air. Knowing he was down wind from the animal, he again checked the elamie, almost faltering when finding her to be floating atop the water. Full, twin peaks bobbed in languid motion, enticing his virile male body. The fresh pale globes could fill his palm. The truth painfully tightened his lions, setting his determination on the prize within his reach.
Whatever prey his planned week of hunting might have brought, Wylan knew could never touch the treasure he stumbled upon. How she came to be here, alone, was unimportant. All knew the claiming laws, Wylan better than most. He did not intend to lose this prize, scoffing that any Selam could be so careless. He had not seen her close enough to be sure, but this elamie definitely held virtues beyond any he glimpsed upon in the past. The wealth of possessing one such as this would be unequaled; the promised pleasure a private haven.
Before his dreamy musing destroyed his concentration, Wylan faced the formidable task before him. Stopping her creature could prove as challenging as fighting the night’s Mylar. The beast actually stood taller than Wylan’s great height and was wider than his broad shoulders. The great claws on the short stubs and powerful hind paws told of the animal’s potential. The way the beast paced about in alert strides said he would defend his swimming mistress with his furred life.
Wylan’s fingers released the tie holding the whipple at his thick belt. Holding the sturdy cords, he positioned them with expert ease between his strong grasp, ready to send the weapon to its mark.
The whirling sound cut through the still air, swirling Melane about to search for the threat. A shrilling shout froze her in the water as Rolley’s cry shattered in her ears. His crashing body drew a painful groan from his shocked lips.
Busting through the brush Wylan’s massive arm rose to silence the beast struggling to rise and break free of the cords wrapped about his powerful thrashing legs.
“No!” The screamed plea halted the downward thrust of his thick blade.
His senses came alive to the elamie staring at him with wide blue eyes. Winning her without a fight never crossed his mind. Seeing the unexpected feelings she carried for the beast gave him a new advantage.
In slow caution, his stance eased back from the threat still struggling at his feet. If the great beast’s strength had not severed the whipple by now it would not happen. She did not know and awareness made him curious over her reaction. “Come out elamie!” Wylan’s sword lowered, its point directed at the animal’s chest. “Now!”
Treading the water her eyes filled with the awesome bronzed image. Tall as a tree and as tough, the male stood with his thick muscled legs spread wide. Full golden shoulders bulged over the powerful expanse of the contoured muscles that moved and flexed across his great chest. Melane’s head shook in frightened denial. Worse than the Kibra.
She wanted to flee from the battle. All Lamars faced the weakness and conquered it, or died. But this…this was an instinctive panic against an unknown danger. He was male!
“Do I kill the beast?”
Her stunned eyes dropped to Rolley’s pitiful form now stilled in exhaustion. “No!” The admission barely passed her tightly held lips. Thoughts of escaping made her cautious eyes dart about, but she was in the middle of the pool. This enemy could easily span any distant bank she headed for. In slow unwanted strokes, Melane started towards him.
His sword eased away from Rolley as she advanced, coming to a stop in mid air before her. Her weapons lay on the bank in front of the bush. Had the obstruction hid his awareness? Melane forced her eyes to remain on his massive form. Melane tried hard not to let the power and strength in his golden form defeat her courage.
A vision in the water as she stood, rising out of depths she became a mythical goddess. The lure to his senses grew fierce, the way the transparent barrier clung to her honeyed skin and the soft alluring curves, enticed that savage desire all males ultimately faced. In twenty-seven years, Wylan knew none before possessed the invisible power this elamie emanated. His admiring gaze halted at the weapon resting at her slender waist. “Take it off.”
Was she too willing in obeying his command? Why did her docile appearance send warnings blaring inside him?
Holding out the sheathed knife dangling from the belt, Melane stepped fully out of the water. Only a step to her right and she could set the blade down. Keeping her eyes to his fierce black ones, she moved the offending weapon out arm length. Bending forward, as if to place it down, Melane moved without thought, exchanging one for another before he could blink at her trickery.
Crouching low before the giant, his blade held as much a threat as his own matching stance.
“A foolish move, elamie.”
Her confidence rose in stature to the weapon now in her possession. “We will see who is the fool.”
Her attack obviously surprised the male and Melane pushed her advantage, striking fast and sure, with expert maneuvers. His defending blows were jerky as if stunned and unsure how to deal with her. Keeping him off balance was her only hope of succeeding. The male’s reach was twice her own and to question the power he’d yet to use against her could mean death. Why he held back confused Melane, but she refused to let her attention slip.
“Your protector trained you well, elamie.”
The taunt infuriated Melane. “I am my own protector.”
Her answer lit his expressive eyes, making them sparkling under the sun like tiny diamonds floating in the dark pools. For a second Melane became lost in the spell they cast, forgetting all but the night heaven’s fathomless depths. The lapse earned his lunge, driving her back with his sweeping blade. When their swords clashed, the impact vibrated up her arm, alarming her over the obvious physical difference between them. She was a warrior; no doubt he possessed the same skills. Unlike the clumsy Kibra that relied on brute strength, this man moved with cunning and expertise, wielding the sword in unmatched power!
When his blade danced about her own, the pulling release from her grip was almost gentle in the taking. Immobile and defenseless, Melane waited for the killing blow.
“Only a fool would destroy such beauty.” She was that and more standing bravely before him, wishing to slay him with those striking blue eyes. He never encountered such effrontery in an elamie. She was a rare one as well as very pleasing to the eyes. The thick wet lengths of her hair reached past her waist, one he could easily span within his hold. The gentle curve of her hips was firm and smooth, leading to delica
tely trimmed thighs and legs. There was almost a regal air to her beauty. The unexpected defiance in those exotic eyes caused something inside him to ripple to life. He did not believe for a moment that she accepted her defeat, not when those cool blue eyes shined with bold arrogance, refusing to look down before his own fierce stance.
A pitiful wail came from the fallen animal. His sword stayed her movement.
Melane never felt such rage. “You are a cruel beast!”
“Shall we try that again, elamie? The name is Wylan or…master. Either will do.”
Stepping back, her eyes grew large in their incredulous glare.
“Male arrogance!” Melane’s lips curled over his roaring laughter.
“Maybe my new elamie is not such a prize after all. Did your protector let you loose on purpose?”
His sarcasm didn’t miss its mark, but Melane refused to humor him any further. Holding silent, she folded her arms across her chest for emphasis.
Tipping his sword to her in salute, the male started a guarded walk around her.
Biting her lip she held fast when he retrieved her sword and knife. The loss made her extremely uncomfortable before him. When he lifted her armor and clucked in distaste, she turned her head away “And where, prey tell, did an elamie obtain warrior garb?”
“If by your word, elamie, you refer to me, the answer should be obvious. I am as you say, a warrior…a Lamar captain of the Grand Guard, to be exact.”
“Arrogance, now pride, what other surprises do you hold from view, elamie?”
“None…unless it is to kill you at the first opportunity.”
Where were her thoughts, to warm him such! She inwardly screamed, he annoyed her so. His laughter was like a lash upon her ebbing control.
“Already you add flavor to the pleasure I have but sampled from afar. No doubt you drove your previous protector to the edge. Tell me his name so I might relieve the poor soul of his burden.”
Spinning about to face her tormentor, she herself straightened at his own return to a fighting stance over her action. The knowledge brought her full lips up into a slight, satisfied smile. Wary of me, as you should be…male! And such a one she never expected; a formidable species, so large and strong. His skin was smooth like polished brass.
Berating her foolish thoughts, she knew it unwise to antagonize him, but he pricked something rebellious inside her that refused to be tamed. “You must think me weak to continue insisting I need or have a protector. The prospect not only is loathsome, but absurd. I, Melane, am my own Nemow, no other would dare lay claim to a Lamar.”
“Then I have no one to thank for your unexpected presence? Other than yourself of course.” Wylan forced himself to breathe evenly under her watchful gaze. Keeping up this maddening banter was difficult and if not so very informative he would quickly end the game.
“The head must be muscle bound as well to have taken the truth so long to penetrate.” The control she used not to show her fear, under the thunderstorm filling those midnight eyes, nearly exhausted her.
“Curbing your sharp tongue will be my first priority.”
“You assume much, for a male spawn!”
Melane didn’t wait for the bull to charge. Her feet moved with the lightening urgency necessary to avoid his reaching clasp.
The black satin slipped through his fingers. Cursing, Wylan moved to block her flight towards the beast.
“Rolley!” Turning from his massive form, she spun again and away from the cliffs. Melane growled when she saw he stood between her and the only escape. The pool was her only path. With a running dive into the pool, she heard him follow before she broke the water. All her strength could not outdistance the great strokes overcoming her. Melane’s furious scream was silenced as he pulled her by the ankles beneath the water.
Holding the thrashing wildcat down, not even the threat of drowning mellowed her fight. Feeling panic overtaking her anger, Wylan drew her up to the surface for air.
Gasping for breath, once gained, her fury broke loose, but his iron solid arms locked about her, ending her pitiful attempts to break free.
“Let me go…you foul beast!”
“The prospect is intriguing, don’t tempt me.”
“Ooh…”
All kinds of wild thoughts, beyond his anger, came with the squirming form pressed against his own. She actually fought him in earnest! Had the old ones not trained this elamie in the ways? He heard of rare instances when an elamie needed to be reschooled, but she was wild, hardly civilized.
Lifting her up before him as he exited pool, Wylan kept her feet from touching the ground. She needed no advantages in delivering the blows she attempted to inflict. Even bare footed she had the strength to injure a man in the most effective manner, and the knowledge, if her well-aimed efforts proved anything. Putting her none to gently on the ground face down, Wylan straddled her hips, pinning her arms with one hand behind her back. Pulling the tether strips lose from his belt, he quickly tied her arms and her legs, hindering her freedom.
Her angry growl, when he rose off her, earned his guarded smile. He’d wasted enough time; it would be almost nightfall before they reached his camp.
Going back to the pool, Wylan retrieved the weapons, placing hers inside his belt. His own still had unfinished business to tend to.
His rage at her should have ended Melane’s fight. Her fear of this male, was no longer a simmering tease, the danger he posed became all too real. Rocking to her side she watched him in wary concern, swallowing hard over the sword once again in his steeled fist. She would not cry out when the deathblow came. Above all else she would die with honor.
When he walked past her a new fear seized Melane. “Nooo . . .!”
His intent kept her moan from reaching him. Falling back onto her stomach she fought to raise her head. Through the dark veil of fallen hair, her dread was confirmed when she saw him standing above…Rolley!
“No please! Oh please don’t kill Rolley. I swear…I will behave, please…Wylan!” He’d refused to look at her until she called out his name. Ignoring the pain in her cry he raised the sword. Groaning, a rage took hold of Melane so fierce that it rocked her body. Squeezing her eyes shut, her mind filled with only one thought…stopping him.
A low almost inaudible sound came from the elamie. With its drone came a force that stayed Wylan’s hand in mid air. Bringing his other hand up to the sword’s hilt, he pulled with all his strength to fight the unseen force that he knew she controlled. Her cry cut through the air shattering both the force and drone, violently flinging him away from the beast.
Finding himself sitting on the ground, Wylan shook his head to clear away his shock over what just happened. His eyes darted to the elamie. What he saw tore through his very being. She laid curled up on her side, her back to him…weeping?
Going slowly to her, he stood behind her expecting another attack. From a tied elamie? Had he imagined what had just happened? “No!”
Kneeling down beside her, Wylan drew her onto her back. Brushing the curtain of hair away, he exposed the river of tears glistening her honeyed cheeks. No longer did she look proud and arrogant, but like a young child. She was young, he did not realize how much so. The feathery tips of black lashes struggled to open as if a heavy weight held them down. “Please, can you bury him? A friend should not be left to be torn apart.”
Did she not know what she’d done? It was her force, he was sure of it. A sorceress? No, she would have killed him. Wylan had much to learn about this particular elamie. “Tell the beast to behave and I shall spare his life for your promise to behave.”
Through half closed eyes that wanted to widen in surprise she answered. “Thank you.”
Did the exhaustion, he saw and sensed in her, come from using her powers against him? For now, she was no longer the troublesome elamie of moments ago. Releasing her ties, Wylan gathered her up in his arms, carrying her over to the beast. “Elamie, can you stand?”
“Yes.”
A touch of her remaining pride gave the skeptical answer. Lowering her feet, Wylan held her until she seemed capable of remaining upright. “Tell him, I will release him.”
“Do not draw your weapon, he will not listen.”
Wylan understood what she didn’t say. The beast would protect her as she had him. It was a strange relationship. He could be making a mistake, but he decided to take the chance. He let her go to the beast, stopping himself from reaching for her when she practically fell on the great red bulk.
“Rolley, my dear Rolley, be a good boy and let the male live.” Even through the haze surrounding her, she knew the one called Wylan was listening. Looking into the Kaymog’s large brown eyes, she wasn’t sure if Rolley understood, nor if she wanted him to. She felt too strange and weak to sort out her thoughts. “Please be good.”
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the large hand beginning to unravel the cords about the drawn claws. The gold hairs on his large forearms glistened under the sun. Her hands pressed into Rolley’s chest to still his struggles. “Easy boy, you’ll soon be free.”
Those same large hands lifted her forcefully away from Rolley as he came to life under the fury of being held captive too long. A great rocking roar filled the air, raising even Melane’s hairs on her neck. When the great red beast lunged forward, Wylan pulled her back behind him. Only her hand covering his own prevented him for drawing out the sword.
“Rolley! Stay!”
The beast fought against the elamie’s order, rocking his great form to control the vicious rage leveling against Wylan from those enormous eyes.
“Stay!” Melane knew Rolley was too angry to listen. Stepping before the male, she pushed his hold away. “Bad boy, down before Melane! Now Rolley, down!”
Amazingly the animal seemed incapable of disobeying the girls command. He looked pathetic bent over before her, but releasing his humor over the scene was forbidden. Wylan brought his attention back to her in time to see her stagger under an alarming wave of weakness. As soon as Wylan touched her, the beast started to rise.