Warlord's Return

by Cynthia Sax

  “We’re headed to Hulagu’s domicile.” Yesun punched Ariq’s arm. “His gerel has prepared nourishment for all of us. He claims it’s quite the offering.” The youth rubbed his flat stomach. “Orol, his mate, the triplets, Dare and his mate, some of the others will be there too.”

  That sounded very…domesticated.

  A wildness, a rebellion, gripped Ariq. The sharing of nourishment was expected, but he couldn’t summon up the willingness to participate in it. Not at the moment. “I’ll join you later.” He would battle the Humanoid Alliance males first, release his savage nature. “You go ahead.”

  “Okay.” Yesun, unaware of his struggles, grinned at him. “But I can’t promise there will be nourishment left when you get there.” The young warrior sauntered in the direction of the others.

  They beckoned to Ariq.

  Ariq shook his head and pointed to the sand-covered ground. He waited until they were inside the Refuge, then he glanced back at the Humanoid Alliance males.

  They had moved closer to him. And there were more of them.

  A genuine smile curled Ariq’s lips. They would give him the fight he was seeking.

  “What are you looking at, Chamele?” The largest of the human males swaggered toward him. His nose appeared as though it had been broken multiple times.

  The other males followed him.

  Ariq extended his claws. “I’m looking at a piece of—”

  The wind whistled above his head. He gazed upward.

  The flying scaled creature dove toward him. Its talons were extended. It opened its mouth.

  The little thing was attacking him.

  Ariq lifted his natural weapons, preparing to defend himself.

  “No.” A force hit his side.

  He toppled to the ground, rolled with his attacker. Operating on instinct, heeding the call of the os khonzon, he stabbed his adversary with his claws, pinning the being to the sand.

  The being gasped, bucked upward with his…with her hips.

  His assailant was a female.

  And she wasn’t merely any female. Ariq breathed in and his cock twitched. She was his female, the one being destined to be his.

  He gazed down at her, looking into the most intriguing face he’d ever seen.

  A deep scar carved through her left cheek, over her nose, through her right cheek. There were two more horizontal slashes on her countenance—one across her forehead and one across her chin. Ruthlessly short blonde hair accentuated the severity of the markings.

  That she had survived those wounds, that hurt, was a testament to her inner strength. And the scars didn’t detract from her beauty. They accentuated it, serving as a frame highlighting the rest of her.

  She was stunning. Her lips were full and lush. Her chin was pointed.

  Her eyes captivated him. They were as blue as the sky above them, were framed with golden lashes. Pain, fury, anger lit their depths.

  He had caused some of that agony.

  “Get off me, barbarian.” She struggled under him, her movements rubbing more of her flesh against his claws, deepening her shoulder wounds.

  He had harmed his fragile human female. Dismay struck Ariq as he retracted his claws. “You need a medic.”

  “You need a medic also.” She drew a dagger, jabbed it into his side.

  Agony coursed through him. He inhaled sharply. “Don’t do that.” He knocked the blade from her leather-covered hand.

  “Fuck you.” She extracted another dagger, seemed intent on finishing him off.

  Ariq adored her already.

  He caught her wrists, holding the weapon away from him. “We aren’t rutting here.” But they would rut.

  He wanted her more than he had wanted anyone or anything.

  “We aren’t rutting. Ever.” She spat at him.

  Son of a Gechii. She was half primitive.

  He liked that also.

  “I smell your arousal, gerel.” He allowed the spittle to drip down his cheek.

  The scent of her blood edged the delectable musk of her desire. Crimson spread over her brown, leather chest covering. Guilt pierced him.

  Talons sank through his hair, into his back of his skull. Wings batted his head. The little scaled creature screeched, pecking his forehead.

  “Stop that.” Ariq released his gerel, tried to smack it away from him.

  “You stop that.” His gerel stabbed him once, twice more, pushed him off her, sprang to her booted feet. “You’re hurting him.”

  She sheathed her daggers, retrieved the lost one, sheathed that one too.

  Ariq fought off the deadly creature she was concerned about him hurting. His sides pulsed with pain. His head felt as though it was on fire.

  His gerel appeared not at all troubled about his status. “Spark.” She held out one of her arms as she walked away from him. “Come here. Leave the bad male alone.”

  The creature—Spark—flew to its mistress, settling on her shoulder.

  Ariq stood. “I’m not the bad being.” He followed her. “You hit me.”

  Trails of red ran down her back. Zondoo. He had drilled his claws right through his human gerel.

  “You were planning to stab Spark with your claws.” She reached up, petted the creature.

  It snapped at her. The creature was as bad-tempered as its mistress.

  “Spark was attacking me.” He was a warrior, would defend himself from any assault.

  They passed Balvan. The green gatekeeper appeared entertained with their antics.

  “Spark was attracted to your dagger with the gold hilt.” His gerel didn’t look behind her yet seemed to know he was trailing her. “If you don’t want to be attacked by drakons, don’t wear gold-colored metal.”

  That dagger had once belonged to his warrior mother, had been given to her by Ariq’s father. Both of them had endured the os khonzon, had taught him to manage it, had died in battle…as those of his kind should die, with their boots on the ground and their claws extended.

  The blade was all he had left of either of them. He would never not wear it. “There were no drakons in the Refuge the last time I visited.”

  “If I had my way, there would be no drakons in the Refuge now.” His gerel muttered that reply to herself.

  Chameles had better senses than humans. Ariq heard her comment. Trepidation gripped him. Was she planning to leave the Refuge? “You need to see a medic, gerel. You’re losing too much blood.”

  He was losing blood also. Wetness coursed down his face, his sides, soaked his long hair.

  “Fuck you.” His gerel glared over her shoulder at him.

  A little girl of mixed species whimpered and backed away from her.

  “You can fuck me later.” Ariq smiled at his belligerent gerel. “Tend to your wounds first.”

  “Ugh.” She stomped in what he hoped was the direction of the medic bay.

  The crowd parted in front of her. Beings rushed to get out of her way, and Ariq’s chin lifted with pride. They must have sensed her strength.

  Spark, her little drakon, screeched at anyone who got too close to them, blasted them with flames if they didn’t heed the first warning.

  The medic bay would see quite a few patients this planet rotation.

  As Ariq walked, his gaze lowered to his gerel’s ass.

  His kind wore ass coverings consisting of a band around the waist and strips of leather hanging from that band.

  His gerel was clad from her chin to her toes with form-fitting leather. The garment hugged her like a second skin, outlining the shape of her ass, the power in her thighs, the muscles in her calves.

  His mouth dried.

  He would be a fortunate warrior.

  If, no, when she forgave him for stabbing her.

  Chapter Four

  Xareni begrudgingly went to the medic bay. She would normally attempt to bind her wounds herself, but the damn Chamele warrior insisted she see a medic.

  Entering the structure wasn’t an option for her. She stopped
outside its doors.

  “You have to go into the medic bay to see a medic.” The big barbarian frowned at her.

  “You know fuck all about anything.” She reached up and stroked Spark’s scales.

  The drakon snapped at her.

  The Chamele’s gaze shifted from her face to Spark. “Ahhh…” He nodded.

  The idiot male assumed she couldn’t enter the medic bay due to Spark and his tendency to light structures and beings and everything else on fire.

  “Wait here.” The barbarian rushed into the medic bay.

  Xareni was tempted to turn around and leave, but she continued to bleed like a son of a Palavian whore, and she was already situated at the structure.

  “No. No.” The Chamele returned with not one, but three, medics in tow. “Tend to her first. My wounds are a lower priority.” He said that with blood dripping down his primitive face.

  The younger medic, a Tau Cetian girl, gaped at Spark when she spotted the drakon.

  “Medic Sonzwaphi, you tend to the Chamele.” The eldest medic assigned tasks. “Medic Pono, you will take the human and her creature to the overflow station. I will supervise you.”

  “The overflow station?” The Tau Cetian girl blinked.

  “That’s the outside facilities, where you train for battlefield scenarios.” The supervising medic’s tone was patient.

  “Oh, yes.” The girl’s head bobbed. “The overflow station.” She turned to Xareni. “If you will follow me.” She led her to a gate at the side of the structure.

  “Take care of my gerel.” The Chamele yelled that to them as he was ushered into the medic bay.

  “I’m not his anything.” Xareni rolled her eyes.

  The overflow station was, thankfully, spacious and open yet private. It had a sleeping support, numerous medical machines, and a huge boulder Spark claimed as his own.

  The Tau Cetian girl directed most of her chatter to the older medic. Her eyes widened when Xareni stripped to her waist, revealing her numerous scars.

  But she didn’t comment on them, and Xareni was grateful for that.

  She was given a pain inhibitor. Her wounds were cleaned, sealed, covered with gauze. She dressed, retrieved Spark, and left.

  The damn Chamele warrior was waiting for her outside the gate. The blood had been removed from his skin. His wounds had been sealed also. There were bald patches on his skull where Spark had ripped out his beautiful long black hair.

  “Good drakon.” She scratched Spark’s belly.

  He tried to bite her fingers.

  “My name is Ariq.” The Chamele warrior wanted to fuckin’ talk. “I thought you should know who you stabbed…multiple times.”

  “I clearly didn’t stab you enough times.” Xareni walked toward the market. Spark remained perched on her shoulder.

  She hadn’t been trying to kill the Chamele. Although they had been outside the Refuge where ending lifespans was allowable, he—Ariq—was one of Kralj’s esteemed guests.

  Killing him wasn’t a suitable way to repay the Ruler.

  The goal had been to return some of the pain he’d dealt her. She rolled back her shoulders. And to send a message—she wasn’t a being he should fuck with.

  That message must have been distorted. The male continued to follow her.

  She knew that because she sensed his proximity to the depths of her soul. He didn’t make a sound, moving as quietly as an apex predator behind her, but she was aware of him. Her nipples tightened in his presence. Her pussy grew wet.

  That irritated her.

  She stopped at a stall. “I’ll take that.” She pointed to a container of unidentified meat.

  “Is it for the creature?” The merchant indicated Spark.

  Why was everyone so chatty this planet rotation? “Does it matter?” She eyed the male.

  “No.” He took her credits, handed her the container.

  “The brother of my Second and his gerel are hosting a party.” The Chamele—Ariq—matched her stride as she moved toward another stall. “There’s nourishment and beverage there. We could attend it.”

  “You should attend it.” She rejected his invitation and him before he could reject her.

  That would happen…soon. She saw the way the females gaped at him, at his fit form, his captivating countenance. He was a warrior in his prime, could have his choice of fuck buddies.

  Xareni wasn’t any male’s preference. She accepted that.

  Her fingers brought her as much satisfaction as any male could, and they didn’t fill the air with words, didn’t expect her to attend parties where she’d be gawked at and snidely insulted.

  “I’m not attending the party without you, gerel.” The barbarian wouldn’t be deterred.

  Gerel was a soft word. It sounded like an endearment.

  “Then you’re not attending the party.” She purchased a large container of beverage at a stall.

  The girl’s hands trembled as she passed Xareni the container. The youngster couldn’t look at her scarred face.

  Stars. Xareni hated dealing with beings.

  “I’ll hold that for you.” The Chamele took the container from her.

  “What is with the helpfulness and the hovering?” Xareni glared at him. “If this is due to some sort of guilt over stabbing me with your claws, I stabbed you back. We’re even. You can go do whatever warriors visiting from another planet do.” She grabbed the container.

  He didn’t release it. “This warrior is spending the planet rotation with you.”

  She stared at him. “Why?”

  “That is what I want to do.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. His ab muscles rippled with the motion.

  Her fingers twitched. The urge to touch him was tremendous.

  Instead, he touched her, sweeping one of his thumbs over the knuckles of her right hand. “I don’t want to be with the other Chameles, not this planet rotation.”

  The barbarian caressed her scarred skin, brushing his thumb back and forth, back and forth over her. It was hypnotic, calming.

  Her irritation eased. He wanted to chatter. She’d satisfy a bit of her curiosity.

  “When you were greeted at the ship, you didn’t leave with the others.” She had been aware of him as soon as he descended the ramp.

  Fuck. Any female would have noticed him. He was tall and muscular and had dominance no one could ignore.

  She had watched him as he moved to the edge of the group. He hadn’t engaged much with the other warriors, their females.

  “I preferred to be alone.” He continued to stroke her knuckles. “Have you ever felt like you didn’t fit in?”

  She always felt like she didn’t fit in. Her resolve to rid herself of him crumbled. “You won’t be alone if you stay with me, with Spark.” Her voice was gruff.

  “I’ll stay with you.” His gaze shifted to the drakon clasping her shoulder. “And I’ll make peace with Spark.”

  Did he want to make peace with her also?

  “We’re not fucking.” She released the beverage container, stepped back from him. Being some warrior’s freak fuck didn’t interest her. “If that’s your plan—”

  “I want you.” He swept his free hand over his ass coverings. There was an impressive bulge in it. “But I will wait as long as you wish. My plan is to learn more about you.”

  He’d be waiting a long time. Her lips flattened. “My plan is to eat and to sleep.”

  She marched toward another stall, purchased four nourishment bars. That was two more than her normal allotment. She’d feed the damn Chamele…because she couldn’t eat while he watched her. She wasn’t that much of a monster.

  Ariq took the nourishment bars from her also. “You plan to sleep while there is full light?”

  “I plan to sleep while the temperature is the highest.” She navigated through the crowds.

  The Chamele’s nearness diverted some of her attention away from the masses of bodies around her. The beings, the noise, the smells, were less stressful.

>   It was still a relief when she climbed the stairs to the top of the walls.

  “Most of the structures have controlled temperatures.” That was the Chamele’s next comment.

  “None of the structures have this view.” She gazed out at the blue sky, the sand dunes. Fresh air swept over her face. She breathed deeply, the remaining tension inside her vanishing.

  Spark extended his wings, faced the breeze also. They were two wild creatures determined to be free, unfettered, and independent.

  Ariq stood beside them. He scanned the terrain.

  There was blessed quiet.

  For a couple of heartbeats.

  “Carinae E is similar to a planet in our sector, Chamele 4.” The barbarian started chattering again. “I go there as often as I can to hunt.”

  “I would never leave that planet.” Xareni planned to remain on Carinae E for her entire lifespan.

  “Before the clones claimed Chamele 4, there weren’t many beings living on it.” He said that as though that was a bad thing. “And I was needed elsewhere. I had to fight in the Succession Wars.”

  “Those wars are over now.” She made that assumption. He was a warrior, wouldn’t be here on a pleasure journey if his kind were in danger.

  He sighed. “The wars are over. We’re at peace.” His tone held a tinge of regret.

  Her lips twitched. The barbarian enjoyed fighting. “Carinae E is never at peace.” She enjoyed that challenge. “If beings aren’t trying to kill you, nature is attempting to accomplish that feat.”

  The heat, the scarcity of water, the creatures, could be as deadly as any human or humanoid.

  Libor, the modified humanoid guarding their stretch of wall, approached them. His gaze moved from Xareni to the Chamele, back to Xareni. He lifted his eyebrow ridges.

  She shook her head. His assistance wasn’t required. She could handle the Chamele on her own.

  Libor nodded, turned and progressed in the other direction. He had honored her decision, would give them the privacy, the solitude, she needed.

  She moved to the spot she’d claimed, retrieved the pack she’d stored there.

  Ariq watched her. “You live here?”

  “I live wherever I am.” She set a couple of gold disks on the stone by her booted feet.