Warlord's Return

by Cynthia Sax

  Spark immediately pounced on them, claiming his hoard. The little drakon trilled happily.

  She rolled out a cushioned square of fabric, sat on it. “Spark and I won’t be in the Refuge for a long duration.”

  Once Ariq and the other Chameles were ready to move, they would leave for the clone community.

  Xareni didn’t relay those plans to him as she didn’t know if Kralj wanted them to know them yet.

  “You could utilize my chambers while you’re here.” The Chamele lowered beside her, not seeming to care that he was seated directly on the hard stone.

  “I prefer to remain outside.” She took the container of beverage from him, opened it, gulped a few mouthfuls of the water. “Have some.” She handed the container back to him. “Dehydration kills beings here.”

  “I’m not a young warrior.” Ariq frowned at her. “I know about dehydration.” He placed his lips where hers had been and drank, his throat moving as he swallowed.

  It felt…intimate.

  “Many visitors to Carinae E, including warriors, don’t know about dehydration.” She broke off a piece of a nourishment bar, popped into her mouth, chewed.

  Stars. It was good. She moaned with appreciation, her eyelids partially lowering.

  It was light years better than the tough-as-boot-leather strips of dried meat and the old, stale nourishment bars she usually ate.

  “I need to try some of that.” Ariq’s voice was endlessly deep.

  She opened her eyes.

  He gazed at her with palpable need.

  Her breath hitched. No male had ever looked at her in that way—as though she was all he ever wanted, everything he ever desired.

  It was almost as though he didn’t see her scars.

  “We’re not fucking.” She said that as a reminder to both of them. Her desire for the barbarian was unsettlingly extreme. She throbbed with need, her pussy dripping.

  “We won’t fuck…now.” He implied they would fuck later. “We’re eating.” He leaned over, drew back his lips and bit a huge chunk out of her nourishment bar.

  The male was a savage…and that appealed to her. She wasn’t civilized herself.

  They ate and drank. He shifted closer and closer to her, stealing more of the cushioned square of fabric, until half of his ass sat on it, and all of him pressed against all of her.

  The male was a big brute, radiated heat like a sunbaked rock, consisted of hard muscle and too much bare skin. And, at first, the close proximity unnerved her. She had been alone for a long, long time, wasn’t accustomed to contact with another being. But she gradually became accustomed to him.

  Xareni carved off chunks of the raw meat, balanced it on a blade, held it out to Spark.

  The drakon blew flames over it and gulped it.

  “It is rare for creatures to cook their food first.” Ariq grinned.

  “Spark is a rare creature.” She repeated the process, feeding the drakon a second piece.

  “Let me try.” Ariq copied her technique, offered Spark a bit of meat.

  The drakon tilted his head to the left, to the right, gazing at the Chamele with his drakon eyes. Then he huffed. Smoke puffed from his nostrils. And he edged toward Xareni.

  Instead of being insulted by the rejection, the Chamele warrior laughed. “Spark is as distrustful as his mistress.”

  “We both have good reasons to be that way.” Xareni touched one of the scars on her face.

  “I won’t hurt you.” Ariq winced. “Again.” He put one of his arms around her shoulders.

  She flinched, then allowed the loose embrace. Resting her head against his arm was more comfortable than reclining against the unrelenting stone. “I won’t allow you to hurt me again.”

  She took his dagger from him, extended it to Spark.

  The drakon breathed his fire over the meat, ate that previously rejected offering.

  “I’ll prove myself to both of you.” Ariq stroked Xareni’s leather-covered arm, his touch achingly gentle.

  Xareni fed Spark the rest of the meat, wondering why the Chamele wanted to prove himself to them. There might not be other drakons in the settlement, but there were plenty of other females, more attractive, softer, more-accommodating females.

  The explanation she settled upon was he sought the company of a fellow warrior. She was certainly that, though she had never participated in a grand battle like a Succession War or anything similar.

  She leaned against him. Her eyelids lowered.

  He yawned widely, his muscles undulating against her. “If we’re going to sleep together, I should know your name, gerel.”

  She stiffened. Her first impulse was to refuse his request, to keep that information to herself.

  But there was no reason to withhold that detail. Ariq would likely be part of the group she would be escorting to the clone community. He would be told her name then.

  “Beings call me Xar.” It was blunt, masculine, warrior-like, reflecting how others viewed her.

  “Beings call you Xar.” He repeated that information. “What would you like beings to call you?”

  “Xareni.” The admission slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

  She braced herself, preparing for the mirth, the ridicule, the disbelief that someone who looked like her could have such a light, feminine, whimsical name.

  “Xareni.” It sounded good on his lips. He nodded. “Yes, that suits you.”

  Was he mocking her? She twisted her body, looked up at him.

  There was no humor in his eyes, no hint he was laughing at her expense.

  “Hmmm…” She settled against him once more, uncertain how to interpret his response. “Xareni is a dainty name and I’m not a dainty female.”

  “Thank the stars for that.” The Chamele said that with heartfelt enthusiasm. “The gerel of my Second’s brother is what some would call a dainty female.” He paused. “I scare her.”

  If he had scared her, Xareni’s face would have made the female scream. She touched one of her scars, feeling the deep groove.

  Ariq pulled her closer to him. “I tried my best to be friendly to her, to smile and make light chatter and be as unintimidating as I could be around her.” His tone relayed that had been a chore. It was a task Xareni would have also abhorred. “The brother’s gerel turned so pale, trembled so hard, her teeth clinked together, and I thought she’d lose consciousness.”

  She could envision that reaction, had seen it more often than she preferred.

  “Have you ever terrified a being with your mere presence?” He shuddered. “It made me feel like…”

  “It makes one feel like a monster.” Xareni covered one of his hands with hers. She had terrified many beings with her mere presence.

  He linked their fingers. “Yes, it made me feel like a monster.”

  Silence stretched. They held hands, that interaction bemusing Xareni. If she had told her past self she would some planet rotation be touching a hunky Chamele warrior or any male that way, her past self would have laughed.

  Yet she was doing exactly that and it felt…not comfortable, but not uncomfortable either.

  “I’m glad you’re not a dainty female, Xareni.” Ariq’s voice was barely audible. “I’m very glad about that.”

  For once in her lifespan, she was very glad about that also.

  Chapter Five

  Ariq had been seeking a war.

  He’d found one with his guarded gerel and her equally distrustful creature. Xareni was determined to thwart him, to defend against all of his advances. Spark wouldn’t accept a treat he coveted because Ariq had been the being offering it.

  Ariq’s lips twitched.

  Winning them over wouldn’t be easy, but he would be successful. Their violent first meeting had temporarily sated the os khonzon, the vengeance within him. His control over himself, over his emotions, had been restored. He was thinking clearer, wouldn’t allow his gerel out of his sight until they were bonded.

  If that meant sleeping
on top of the settlement’s wall, that was what he’d do.

  Spark curled into a ball on its mistress’ lap and was the first to fall asleep. Smoke coiled around him. The little drakon contributed to that cloud with each exhalation.

  Ariq’s gerel nodded off, thumping her head against his arm again and again. Seeking to prevent her from hurting herself, he pulled her onto his own lap.

  She stirred, opening her eyes briefly to glare at him with suspicion. His gerel must have deemed her position on top of him to be tolerable. She fell into slumber once more.

  He wrapped his arms around her, leaned his head back. His cock was hard as the dagger she’d stuck in him, and his balls throbbed. Desire for his human coursed through him.

  That need wouldn’t be acted upon, not any time soon. She didn’t trust him…yet.

  He forced himself to relax, to doze. Sleeping while the sun was high in the sky was a new routine for him. But so was having a gerel.

  She might be planning to stay awake from sunset to sunrise, and he wanted to remain by her side, going where she went, doing what she did.

  His gut warned him if he lost view of her, he might not see her again. Ever.

  That wasn’t a future he wanted to live in. He kissed the top of her head, inhaling the sand-and-sun scent of his gerel.

  She was his.

  He woke before she did, checked the messages on his handheld device. Second, Oghul, others were asking where he was. Yesun boasted about eating his portion of the nourishment.

  Ariq told them he was busy, would return messages once a shift, put the handheld back in its holster. He hadn’t mentioned Xareni or finding his gerel, wanting to keep her to himself for as long as possible.

  His gerel was skittish about spending any time with him. She would likely bolt if beings mentioned she would soon form a forever bond with him.

  “You’re still here.” The first comment spoken by his now-awake human female confirmed his suspicions.

  “I’m still here.” He met her gaze, captivated by the blueness of her eyes.

  The sun was lower on the horizon, streaked across her unique face. Scars were valued by Chamele warriors, and she had plenty of them, had been tested by the universe and had survived.

  He kissed the tip of her nose and she blinked.

  Then she scowled, her reaction enthralling him. Nothing would be easy with his gerel, and that excited him, appealed to his fighter soul.

  “I have to train.” She scrambled off his lap.

  Spark shrieked and flapped his wings, repositioning beside them. He stared at Ariq with accusing eyes, as resentful of his presence as his mistress seemed to be.

  “I need to train also.” Ariq stood. He tossed a freshening square into his mouth, offered his gerel one.

  She hesitated for a heartbeat, suspicious of everything, including that, before snatching the tiny square away from him, placing it on her tongue.

  He wanted to suck that pink flesh into his mouth, pull her body tight against his, explore her slender curves with his hands, his lips, all of him.

  That response wouldn’t be appreciated by his human, not at the moment.

  He pushed away his desire and helped her put away her things.

  She tucked the objects into her compact pack. He suspected that held all the belongings she owned, his human traveling as lightly as a Chamele.

  The drakon fought her for one of the gold disks, not wanting to give up his prize.

  “It’s yours, Spark.” She tugged on it, trying to loosen the creature’s grip on it. “I’m merely keeping it safe for you.”

  “I’ll distract him.” Ariq drew the dagger his mother had given him, removed the black strip of cloth he had wrapped around its hilt.

  Spark looked at the dagger. His gaze returned to the gold disk, then shifted back to the dagger. He released the disk and snapped at the dagger.

  Ariq pulled it out of the drakon’s reach, covered the weapon’s hilt with black cloth.

  Xareni hastily packed the disk away.

  Spark screeched with outrage. The little creature had been left with nothing.

  “Oh, poor Spark.” Ariq’s gerel smiled at the drakon. “You can’t see your treasure.”

  Spark flew to its mistress, perched on her right shoulder. His talons dug into her leather garment. He plucked vigorously at tufts of her golden-blonde hair.

  “It has found more valuable treasure.” Ariq wanted to touch those short strands also. “How are the wounds on your shoulders?” That he was the cause of her injuries continued to fill him with guilt.

  “There’s a medic pack near the fighting rings.” She placed her own pack in the spot she’d previously hidden it. “I’ll check on my wounds, change the gauze there.” Her gaze lowered to his stomach. “Your wounds have healed.”

  “The medic used Velorum syrup in the sealant. That speeds recovery.” He supposed that substance was used in his gerel’s sealant also. “And Chameles heal faster than humans do.” He looked downward at his sides. “You’ve given me more scars.”

  Her lips flattened. “I meant to only hurt you a little, barbarian.”

  She openly admitted she sought to harm him.

  He respected that she didn’t lie, that she didn’t bend the truth. “I like that you’ve marked me.” Everyone would know he was hers. “And Chameles value scars.”

  “They’ll really value me.” She muttered that statement under her breath as she stomped down the steps. The drakon sat on her shoulder.

  “They will value you.” Ariq trailed her closely, admiring the shape of her ass as she moved. “As I do.”

  Spark turned around and hissed at him.

  “Is that what’s happening?” She jumped to the ground, forgoing the last three steps. “You have a scar fetish? That’s why you’re following me around?”

  “Right now, I have a Xareni ass fetish.” He leered at that part of her. “But no, you must realize what is happening. There’s a connection between us. I feel it.” It drew him to her. “You must feel it too.”

  His gerel grunted and said nothing. Her hips swayed with more vigor.

  He grinned at her back. She couldn’t refute his statement because she did feel the connection between them. He breathed deeply. The musk of her arousal hung on the air.

  Frost, one of Kralj’s warriors, was positioned at the entrance of the training space. Ice covered the modified humanoid’s shoulders and chest. “Xar.” He stepped aside, allowing Ariq’s gerel to pass.

  She grunted at Frost also.

  “Chamele.” The male narrowed his eyes at him.

  No one on the planet trusted him. Ariq’s lips twisted.

  “Modified humanoid.” He followed his gerel into the space.

  Very few beings were training within the area. That pleased him. They would have the space mostly to themselves, wouldn’t be interrupted or have to wait for equipment.

  His gaze moved to his gerel’s upper back. The puncture holes created by his claws were visible in her leather garment. The gauze used to bind her injuries was glaringly white.

  “We should check your wounds before we train.” He wanted to access her physical state before testing her skills.

  “We’ll check my wounds after I train.” His gerel jogged in place, lifting her knees high against her chest. “I’ll focus on the lower body this planet rotation.”

  His focus was there also. She had long legs for a smaller being.

  Spark must have sensed they’d be training hard. He flew to a nearby post, screeched at a shadow he didn’t seem to like.

  Xareni dashed toward a wall, ran up the vertical surface, flipped over.

  Ariq gaped at her.

  She did that again and again. There was nothing wrong with his gerel’s physical state. She was fit.

  He joined her, running up the wall, flipping over, running up the wall, flipping over. Their movements synchronized, their booted feet hitting the ground at the same time. She pushed herself, moving faster. He did also.
Sweat beaded on his skin. His muscles heated.

  She did twenty-five repetitions and stopped. “Your ass coverings aren’t designed for that exercise, Chamele.” She breathed heavily. A hint of a smile lifted her lush lips.

  “I don’t care who sees my bare ass.” He grinned at his gerel.

  The garment had inverted every time he flipped over. She must have seen his cock, balls, everything else. That didn’t concern him. She’d eventually see all of him.

  They would rut. Soon.

  His desire for her increased with every passing moment.

  “I plan to beat that bare ass.” She bounced around him. “I rarely spar with others. I tend to become…overly enthusiastic.”

  “I like overly enthusiastic.” His grin widened. His little human was perfect for him. “We use our feet only.” Her shoulders had been injured. “You attack. I defend.”

  “I attack.” She nodded. “You try to defend.”

  His gerel was confident.

  Ariq was confident also. He was Second’s best warrior, had earned that recognition. “You don’t know—”

  She leaped into the air and kicked. Her booted feet lifted higher than her head.

  Pain exploded in his chin. He staggered backward. His claws pricked his skin, instinctively seeking to extend. The os khonzon within him threatened to revive.

  She jumped out of his reach. “You should always be ready for an attack, Chamele.”

  He spat out blood and tapped the vengeance within him back down. His gerel made his warrior heart happy. “Sneak attacks only work once, human.”

  “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” She inflicted a barrage of kicks on him.

  He defended against each one. She circled him, looking for weakness, testing different angles, different assaults. He blocked them.

  But that took effort. She was human. He had expected the task to be easy, had underestimated her skills. She was a talented warrior, was his match.

  Sweat glistened on her skin, darkened her blonde hair. Her kicks slowed. Her breathing grew ragged. His gerel was tiring, and he didn’t want her to exhaust herself.

  “When you’re fully healed, we’ll switch roles and you can defend while I attack.” He backed away from her, signaling the bout was over.