Warlord's Return

by Cynthia Sax

  Not killing the male, Xareni wouldn’t call him her father, was her mother’s biggest mistake. But her mother wasn’t a monster like she was. Killing was beyond her capabilities.

  “My mother thought being surrounded by beings would keep us safe. No one would notice us. There were so many others. We would get lost in the crowd.” Xareni knew the opposite was true. Solitude was safer. Beings couldn’t relay her position if they didn’t know her, didn’t know where she was located. “She was wrong. Someone told him where we were, and he came for us.”

  She trembled. That weakness irked her. It was the past, a lifetime ago. She should be strong enough to talk about it without falling apart.

  The damn Chamele caressed her back, his touch, his proximity, granting her the fortitude she needed to continue. He had given her multiple orgasms. The male warranted the truth.

  “My mother’s mate had a big knife.” She hated that weapon. He’d taunt her, her sister, her mother, with it. “And he had a plan.”

  It was diabolical and clever.

  “Kralj has added rules over the solar cycles.” A recent addition was no one threatens Dita, his mate. “But one rule has been in place since the beginning – anyone who kills within the Refuge is executed.” Kralj was a monster, but he was a consistent, dependable monster.

  “We were informed of that rule the first time we arrived at the settlement.” Ariq nodded.

  “Everyone is told that.” She was grateful to Kralj for that and for many other reasons. “While we were at the market one planet rotation, my mother’s male broke into our home and waited for us to return. We didn’t notice him, not right away.”

  Her mother had been nervous, had sensed something wasn’t right, but she hadn’t acted on those bad feelings. If she had, she might still be alive.

  “He blocked the exits, ensuring we didn’t escape.” The male had time to fuse one of the doors shut. He locked and stood in front of the other door. “We couldn’t break the portals.” The material was deceptively clear yet sturdy. “We yelled and screamed, but no one came to our rescue.”

  Few beings interfered with other beings’ activities in the Refuge.

  Ariq continued to rub her back, his hands moving in slow circles.

  She couldn’t look up, couldn’t meet his gaze. “The male targeted my little sister first. He slashed her again and again with his big knife, covering her small body with wounds.” Xareni would never forget the sound of her sister’s screams. “The goal was to inflict enough damage to ensure we died but not enough that we died right away.” A long torturous death was the intention. “He caught me next.”

  She ran from the male and hid under a sleeping support. He found her, dragged her to the main chamber, where her mother was cradling her dying sister. Xareni fought him, kicking and punching, battling to be free.

  But she was inept, unskilled, ignorant, then. She couldn’t defend herself.

  “He did the same to me.” Her voice became monotone.

  The pain had been horrific. She had been covered in agony and blood. If she hadn’t been so angry, she might have wished for death. But her fury, the dark monstrous part of herself, kept her alive.

  “The male did worse to my mother.” Her fingers curled into tight fists. Her sweet mother was the true focus of his anger, and he had ensured she knew it. “I saw everything, but I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t stop him. I was weak.”

  “You were young.” Ariq pressed his lips to her forehead.

  That kiss felt like absolution.

  “I wasn’t young.” She wouldn’t allow him to use that excuse, wouldn’t let him to forgive her for her lack of action that planet rotation. Fuck. She would never forgive herself. “I had eight solar cycles.”

  “Eight sol—” His voice broke. He clutched her to him.

  “I was mature enough to stop him.” Xareni wiggled, fighting his embrace, battling his acceptance. “If I had more skills, if I had trained, I could have done that.”

  The damn barbarian wouldn’t release her. He folded his big form around hers and held her tight, surrounding her with muscle and warmth and him.

  “Fuck.” The wetness on her cheeks was due to frustration, not grief. “I didn’t stop him. I didn’t stop any of it.” She failed the beings she loved. “And my mother died. The male had been in a killing frenzy and he cut too deep.”

  There had been little left of her mother’s beautiful face. Only her eyes were recognizable, her sky-blue eyes gazing lifelessly at Xareni.

  “Kralj froze the male in place before he could leave the domicile.” Power had flowed over her and her pain had instantly eased. “The Ruler arrived soon after that. He ripped out the male’s throat.”

  The last thing she remembered before losing consciousness was Kralj’s scarred face, his gaze fixed on her as he devoured the male who killed her mother, the male who was her biological father.

  “I woke in the medic bay.” A set of child-sized daggers had been placed beside her on the sleeping support. “My sister was too small. She didn’t survive her wounds. The medics told me I was fortunate. I was the lucky one.”

  She hadn’t felt lucky. At all.

  But she was alive, and she was determined, filled with hate, with the urge to kill.

  Kralj must have protected her while she learned how to use the daggers. No one attacked her again while she was in the Refuge. And she grew stronger, more skilled.

  She became the monster she now was—soulless, solitary, a killer.

  Chapter Seven

  His gerel had nearly died when she had eight solar cycles. Her father, a being who should have safeguarded her from the harshness of the universe, had wielded the knife.

  Zondoo.

  Ariq clasped Xareni tightly to his form. If only he could have been there for her. He would have protected her from the crazed male, would have held her, would have assured her she wasn’t alone, would never be alone again.

  “You were strong and lucky.” Fortune played a factor in every type of battle.

  In the future, she wouldn’t fight those wars on her own. They were bonded now. His essence was inside her. His mark was on her skin. Their rutting was changing both of them.

  They would always be together. Spending long durations apart was painful for a Chamele warrior and his gerel. He would never expose her to that agony.

  “I wasn’t strong.” She rejected that view of herself. “I didn’t fight. I didn’t defend myself, didn’t defend my mother, my sister. I was weak, a victim.” Her top lip curled.

  “You survived.” He was impressed by that. She had endured on her own. That took tremendous strength. “What was done to you was horrendous and I—”

  “I don’t need your pity, barbarian.” She squirmed, was unable to free herself.

  They remained joined. And he wouldn’t release her.

  “I don’t pity you, gerel.” He gripped her hips, holding her still. She needed the connection with him. Stars. He needed that. His gerel had almost died. “Pity implies you’re my inferior. We’re equals.”

  He paused, considering that statement.

  “You might be my superior.” He amended it. “I doubt I could have survived an attack at eight solar cycles.” He pointed to his chin. “See this scar? I put my claws through my own face when I had nine solar cycles.” He had been practicing rolling and attacking and had extended his claws too quickly. “I couldn’t defeat any fully mature human males at that stage of my training.”

  She gazed at him for a moment.

  “I wasn’t strong then.” Her chin lifted. “I’m strong now.”

  His gerel had always been strong.

  “I’m less clumsy now.” He attempted a joke. “I haven’t put my claws through my face in solar cycles.” He had put his claws through many other faces. That was the brutality of war.

  His gerel’s lips twitched, and some of the tension inside him eased. She was no longer planning to run from him. He wouldn’t have to chase her, assure her he view
ed her as the warrior she was.

  Because he couldn’t let her go. Rutting with her had been the best, most thrilling experience in his excitement-filled lifespan. The pleasure had exceeded that of battle, the hunt, and their training session combined.

  “We should find a less public place to rut.” He looked around them. Warriors could access the spot at any moment.

  “You want me again?” His gerel stared at him.

  “I will always want you.” He pressed his lips between her lifted eyebrows.

  She was everything a warrior could want in a female. He was honored she was his.

  She looked up at him.

  He gazed down at her, allowing his admiration for her to shine from his eyes.

  Her lips twisted. “Your scar fetish hasn’t yet been sated.”

  Having reached that very wrong conclusion, his gerel lowered her head and rested her cheek on his left pec. Her breath wafted over his bare skin.

  “My Xareni fetish will never be satisfied.” He caressed her back, skimming his fingertips over her scarred skin, relishing the shape of her.

  She wasn’t an interchangeable female for him, was more than the marks on her form. He touched her as gently as he could manage, seeking to express his caring, his reverence for her.

  His gerel relaxed more and more against him. She was starting to trust him, no longer flinched under his hands. He realized now why she had reacted that way, why she preferred to be alone.

  His little human had been hurt. Badly.

  And she had been betrayed by multiple beings. Her father had tried to kill her. Her mother was unable to keep her safe. A stranger in the Refuge had revealed her location.

  Ariq would be worthy of her faith in him.

  The swelling around his base reduced. Their bodies unlocked.

  His skittish gerel immediately dismounted him. “You must want to meet up with your friends.”

  The loss of connection hit him hard. As did her words. She was trying to get rid of him. “We should meet with Hulagu, my Second’s brother, and his gerel, before we leave, but we have time to do that.”

  She huffed, dressed quickly, covering her gorgeous body with a layer of skintight leather, stuffing her feet into her boots.

  He donned his ass coverings also, did a weapons check, ensuring he was fully armed. His claws were sufficient to defend himself, but he had a gerel to protect now. “I will go where you go, do what you do.”

  “I’m…hunting.” His warrior gerel slid her hands over her gun handles and dagger hilts. Her lips were flat. She didn’t meet his gaze.

  He doubted she was hunting creatures…which left beings. “There is no killing inside the walls.” He followed her as she moved through the training space, watching for danger, for threats to his female.

  She whistled and Spark landed on her shoulder. “There’s plenty of killing outside the walls.” His gerel muttered that truth under her breath.

  Having superior senses, he heard her. “Kralj does allow that.”

  “Kralj understands the needs of monsters.” Her voice was tinged with sadness. “Others don’t comprehend our requirements…or anything about us.”

  Ariq suspected she had placed him in the others grouping. Before he could think of a reply, she was gone, his gerel navigating the pathways quickly, silently, the drakon hunched over her shoulder.

  He chased them. The excitement of that pursuit flowed through him. His little human was the most appealing of prey, and he wouldn’t allow her to escape him.

  The sky was dark. The route she chose was dimly lit. Shadows stretched across it.

  A male stepped into the light, looked at Xareni. His face turned pale.

  Spark shrieked at him.

  The male turned and ran. His bootheels rang on the stone.

  Neither the drakon nor Xareni pursued him. They must be hunting another prey.

  Ariq wanted to tell her she wasn’t a monster. A scarred face didn’t scar a soul. But she would insist she was one. His words would serve only to irritate her.

  They neared the stretch of wall she had claimed as hers.

  “You’re late. Xar.” Dare, a Dracheon warrior, one of Kralj’s males, pushed away from a wall. His equally scaled female stood beside him. “They heard you were back, are waiting for you.”

  “I was delayed.” She stomped up the steps.

  “I see the reason for your delay.” Dare’s flame-lit gaze met Ariq’s. “Chamele.”

  “Dracheon.” Ariq didn’t pause. He had a gerel to track, and she was moving at a high speed.

  Whispered voices met them at the top of the wall. Five children of assorted species and solar cycles chattered about targets and payment.

  Their faces were dirty. Their clothing was ragged and covered with a layer of grime. Three of them didn’t have boots. A foul odor exuded from them.

  But they appeared to be surprisingly well-fed. Their faces were round. Their small forms were solid.

  The largest boy noticed first that they weren’t alone. He elbowed two of the others, pushed the other two.

  They turned, gaped at Xareni, at Spark, at Ariq. Their eyes widened and their mouths dropped open. One of the boys farted. Loudly.

  Ariq’s gerel shook her head. “What do you have for me?” Her voice was brusque.

  Two of the boys shoved the smallest boy forward.

  He clutched his hands in front of him. His body trembled. “Xar, sir.”

  The boys guffawed at that blunder.

  “Xar, ummm…” The smallest boy didn’t know how to address her.

  “Just Xar.” Ariq’s gerel rested her hands on the hilts of her daggers. “Who is the target?”

  “Ummm…he is…ummm…” The child squirmed, dancing in place.

  “Don’t describe the target.” Xareni faced the moonlit sand dunes.

  Ariq looked that way also.

  “Show me.” She waved her hands at the crowd below them.

  The beings, a grouping of rough, unsavory-looking characters, were gathered outside the Refuge’s gates, awaiting entry to the settlement.

  “I can do that.” The boy climbed onto the battlement.

  He wiggled forward and kneeled dangerously close to the edge of the wall. The boy scanned the beings situated below them. His expression was adorably intense.

  Fires lit the figures, their faces.

  “There he is.” He pointed one of his grubby fingers at a Humanoid Alliance male. “The one with the bushy eyebrows and the crooked nose.”

  It was the same male who had challenged Ariq when he first arrived on the planet.

  “I see him.” Xareni studied the being.

  Spark appeared to note the male also. The drakon’s eyes gleamed.

  “He nearly got me as I was running for the gates.” The boy tugged up his sleeve, showed a bruise in the shape of a handprint. “He did get Ooze.” His gaze lowered. “Ooze fought like a wild thing. You would have been proud of him, sir…Xar. But that male is a big fucker and he had a knife. He pinned Ooze’s leg to a horizontal support as he used him. Then he gutted him from his ass to his skull. I ain’t seen nothing like that.”

  A tear dripped down the boy’s cheek, leaving a trail in the dirt.

  “I ain’t crying.” The boy rubbed his face. “Just got some sand in my eye.”

  Ariq’s gerel grunted. “The price is one nourishment bar for a quick death, two nourishment bars to make him wish for death before I deliver it.”

  Zondoo. His warrior female was assassinating beings for nourishment bars.

  Ariq struggled to keep his face blank, to scrub all judgment from his countenance.

  “We’ll see him die?” The little boy was as bloodthirsty as his gerel appeared to be.

  “You’ll see him die.” Xareni nodded.

  “Good.” The child dug a crumbly, slightly flattened nourishment bar out of one of his dirty pockets, set it on the stone. Then he extracted a second bar in worse shape, put it next to the first.

  Ariq�
�s gerel surveyed her payment. “I’ll collect them after the assignment has been completed.”

  The boy straightened. He looked at his friends. His gaze returned to Xareni. “You’ll do it?”

  Her head dipped again. “Consider it done.”

  Xareni took one more look at her target and turned. She descended the steps once more. Spark remained perched on her shoulder.

  Ariq blew out his breath. The Humanoid Alliance male deserved to die for torturing and killing the boy Ooze. But he didn’t like that his fragile human female would be the one to confront the male.

  She could be injured, killed.

  He pursued his gerel. His legs were longer than hers were, so he easily caught up with Xareni. “The male you’re targeting was once, might still be, aligned with the Humanoid Alliance. Those are dangerous beings.”

  “I’m a dangerous being.” When she reached ground level, she faced him. “You should go, find your friends. We’ll meet up later, have a good hard fuck. You can pretend I’m a semi-normal female, not the monster I truly am, and you won’t have to witness anything you don’t want to see.”

  If the upcoming hunt was a part of her, was representative of who she was, he wanted to witness it. ‘You’re not doing this for the nourishment bars.” He doubted they remained edible. “You’re giving the boy vengeance.”

  That wasn’t the actions of a monster. It was the response of a warrior, a being with honor.

  “Don’t assign some noble purpose to my actions, Chamele.” His gerel rolled her eyes. “I kill beings because I enjoy killing beings. I have a need to end lifespans, to inflict pain and suffering on others.”

  Ariq stared at her. That sounded like the os khonzon, but that wasn’t possible. She wasn’t a Chamele, wasn’t from his birthing settlement.

  “Do you kill the innocent?” He sought to learn more about her affliction.