Dance With The Enemy

by Linda Boulanger

  He smiled. Eager to fulfill her wish, he cradled the back of her head in his hand, coaxing her head back farther. Her lips parted when his mouth met hers and his tongue probed. He wasted no time, his desire to taste her overwhelming them both.

  “Would have thought your chambers a more suitable location, Brother. Unless, of course, these public displays of yours are merely smoke screens hiding a true lack of desire to fulfill your honor bound duties.”

  “Redahn,” Tahruk growled, pulling back just enough so that his forehead rested against Elenya’s. His breath tickled her mouth where their kiss had left her lips moist.

  As the others joined them he slipped an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the table where no one sat until Renaine had taken his place at the head of the table and lowered himself into the honored seat. Lady Neria sat at his right, Tahruk at his left with Elenya securely by his side. Redahn’s presence next to his mother, directly across from her, was a cause for unease.

  Other family members, including sisters Elenya had met earlier, their husbands whom she had not, and Nema were seated accordingly down the rest of the long table. Elenya’s brows drew down as she watched Nema slip into the seat next to Redahn.

  “Your chosen is troubled by many things, my brother. It appears more than your … inadequate attentions are giving her cause for concern.”

  Elenya didn’t honor Redahn with so much as a glance, turning instead to look at Tahruk. His eyes down, she noted his jaw flexing - a sign she had already learned indicated his anger. Her brows drew deeper.

  “Perhaps a better man could relax the lines from that pretty face…”

  “Enough!” Tahruk exploded from his seat, his fist crashing against the table as he leaned toward his brother.

  Several of the women screamed, some of the men stood, only a hand from a rising Renaine against the warrior’s chest saved Redahn who had pulled back as far as his chair would allow. Tahruk had been a finger away from grasping the front of his tunic. It was anyone’s guess what would have happened next, though assuredly it would have involved violence and spilled blood.

  Tahruk continued to glare at his brother even as Renaine pressed him back to his seat.

  “Aleone has caused dissention within the Zanak Drille for decades.” Renaine leveled his stare at Elenya. “I do not intend a foolish decision by the Masters to tear my family apart.”

  Elenya’s eyes widened as they locked with Renaine’s. She tried to swallow, her suddenly parched throat making the task impossible.

  “Do not take your ire out on the girl, my lord. The maiden has no fault here. She had no say in the match either.”

  Heads turned in the direction of the speaker: Nema. Her glare leveled on the glowering Renaine, Elenya was surprised he did not silence her. “To disavow the Masters’ choice would make us no better than those before us. What happened between Zanak and Aleone must be left in the past.”

  Whispers and snorts sounded round the table.

  “Leave her be, my lord. Soon enough the strength of her scent will be but a memory and your boys can settle.” She paused, then added quietly, repeating, “She harbors no fault here.”

  The table was silent, most of the occupants staring down at their plates, including Elenya. She could see Redahn flicking the corner of his napkin before she cut her eyes toward Renaine whose vision shifted between her and Nema.

  Beside her, Tahruk stared at an undefined spot on a distant wall. His brows drawn, he tapped aimlessly at the full lips that had covered hers not so long ago. An unexpected wave of desire rolled through her. Want me, she thought, then chided herself for her wantonness when the man hadn’t even defended her honor. She pressed her lips tightly together and lifted her eyes to Renaine’s. Silent moments followed before he cleared his throat and looked at his oldest son.

  “As instructed earlier, I intend for you to tend to your duties, post haste, my son, before the girl makes the lot of us insane.”

  “Will be my pleasure to do so, my father.”

  Indignant gasps and snorts sounded from the women while the men chuckled and whispered amongst themselves. Elenya’s face burned, a reminder she mustn’t forget it was only the animal nature caused by the marking that propelled her warrior into such rapt desire for her. Renaine was right. Once duties were fulfilled, this foolishness would subside.

  The atmosphere of the family gathering never fully recovered even as the meal wore on, no doubt making everything more difficult than it need be. Elenya reached again for her glass of wine only to feel her warrior’s hand clamp over hers. She frowned at him.

  Tahruk shook his head and leaned toward her, speaking quietly, “I fear you have already had more than is fitting, my lady. Not to mention the lot of the group is awaiting our retirement.”

  Elenya took stock of her surroundings. Conversations had lapsed into silence broken only by a word or sentence here and there. Platters were empty, glasses relieved of their contents. How had she missed the restlessness that had set in? Or had she ignored it? Perhaps the tension that shrouded the six at the head of the table had made her oblivious. Few words had been shared. Little had been consumed beyond the glasses of fine wine that her warrior was now telling her she could partake in no more.

  Elenya stared at her half-filled cup yearning for one more gulp of the smooth liquid to calm her nerves. It was fine. Much better than the weak drink her family allowed her.

  Tahruk stood and extended a hand to her. She placed her palm against his, noticing he too ignored the snort from across the table as she rose to stand beside him.

  “Father, Mother.” Tahruk nodded at each. “With your permission, we shall take our leave.”

  “About time.” Redahn clanked the metal of his thick ring against the wine cup as he spoke.

  “Silence!” Renaine’s deep voice and command surprised the table’s occupants. The warrior at Elenya’s side relaxed his ready-to-spring stance.

  “Permission granted, my son. Godspeed in your mission.” The older man stood and placed a hand on his son’s right shoulder. Tahruk bowed his head to receive the kiss his father placed on his crown – a sign Elenya recognized as a blessing offered to his son. She glanced to Lady Neria and then to Nema, reaching for the woman’s outstretched hand. Their fingertips barely touched when Tahruk took her arm.

  “Come, my lady. Good evening, Mother. Nema. Brother.”

  Redahn had been mostly quiet throughout the meal beyond simple discussion about training, general family concerns, and the injury he’d sustained in the last battle that had kept him from recent participation. Elenya had avoided eye contact with him though she’d felt him staring at her throughout the evening. Now, as she looked at him her vision blurred slightly though not enough that she missed his hungry sneer. She shuddered and wrapped her warrior’s arm in a loose hug that restored her stability as he led her from the table.

  Elenya had to hasten to keep up with Tahruk’s great stride that brought them to his quarters at a much faster pace than she’d anticipated. She was quite certain mere seconds had passed before he was closing the door to his private rooms behind them. She coaxed herself to relax, fighting down the dizziness that surrounded her.

  Tahruk took her immediately to his bed chamber and pulled her to him. There was no pretense as to why they were there, especially when his mouth came down hard and hungry on hers. It made her head spin faster, her vision swim. When her knees buckled, he swooped her into his arms, giving her no time to think, even if she could have, before he deposited her onto his bed.

  Tahruk sat on the edge of the bed, his body twisted at the waist, strong arms pressed on either side of his chosen. His breath caught, desire flared as he took in her beauty, starting with the thick curls that covered his pillow. What a glorious crop of shimmering, cinnamon-honey red. He ran his fingers through the curls, the action releasing a mixture of Oleander and her scent – his scent within her. He groaned with wanting. Slow, he reminded himself. He felt her hands, warm and light thr
ough his thick tunic, run up his chest and slide down his arms.

  He rubbed his thumb in a gentle circle against her temple, his eyes fixed on the fullness of her soft mouth. His tongue moistened his own lips in anticipation.

  “Ah, Little One. I …”

  Her hands fell from his arms, plopping limp against the bed.

  “My lord …” she whispered, fighting against heavy lids. For the first time he realized she lacked focus when she tried to look at him.

  Concern clouded his thoughts. “Are you ill?” he leaned closer, his nostrils flaring when she shook her head.

  “I’m … I’m so … just so tired.” Her eyes closed for a long moment. She sighed then, attempted to open them again. Her lashes fluttered and closed. “Your wine,” she said in a breathy tone. “I believe it stronger than I am privy to at home.” Again she tried to look at him, gave up, and rolled onto her side away from him. “Forgive me, my lord. I must rest.”

  Tahruk stared down at the fully clothed beauty. Disbelief worked his jaw, frustration and fury welled within, culminating in a deep, guttural growl. Stiff movements propelled him from the bed, his fists clenched by his side.

  “Hell and damnation!” he roared. The maiden stirred only slightly at the outburst. He stared at her. For two days the fires of lust that burned within him had been denied. Not doused or dampened, merely denied. In truthfulness, they’d grown stronger with each passing moment. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her. All of her.

  Contemplation battled within him. He could attempt to wake her and take from her what he wanted, needed. He had every right. She was his, marked by the Masters as his for the very purpose of assuring the strength of the royal bloodlines. Breeding. It was that simple. It was her responsibility as much as his to assure that happened. She was honor bound to submit to him.

  Hands opening and closing, Tahruk inhaled deeply. His chin drooped to his chest as the air whooshed from his lungs. Damned, he thought. I’m damned either way. His need was overwhelming, and yet … damn if he wanted it to be a forceful taking the first time with her.

  He sighed. He shouldn’t care. It wasn’t as if he’d chosen her. Her people were the enemy, were they not? That was a fact that could not be denied. He’d seen it barely masked within his father’s eyes. Generation to generation, they’d been taught, reminded of the trouble Aleone had caused them.

  But the more time he spent with this daughter of Aleone … She rolled onto her back and he watched the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. He felt the stab inside his own chest. His brother’s face as he leered at her flashed through his mind. He’d said something about her falling into the wrong hands. The thought of Redahn’s hands upon his maiden angered him every bit as much as it had when his brother had spoken the words.

  “You are mine and I will have you!” He spoke through clenched teeth as he stepped back toward the bed, then turned abruptly and stormed from the room.

  Chapter 14

  Long, even strides took the warrior from Zanak compound and propelled him toward the Great Hall at the center of town, his need moving him beyond reason. To hell with the Masters and their foolish rules. He didn’t care that one of the first instructions he’d received as a boy was that once a warrior was paired with his marked, he was to remain uncoupled with another woman until after his chosen was determined to be with child. He supposed it was to increase the chances of fertility, though to Tahruk it seemed as absurd as the marking ritual itself.

  Of course, most of the warriors whose marked maidens had presented had already consummated the relationships and many would be boasting of their virility soon as bellies began to swell and new generations were born. He swore aloud as he neared the hall. His very presence there would indicate to all that everything was not right in his world. For a brief moment he contemplated potential fallout. What would be said of him, his ability to woo and subdue? He had a reputation within the walls of a maid’s bedchamber every bit as great as the one he boasted of on a battlefield. Would blame fall on his chosen then? Would she be considered cold, inadequate?

  The thought of jeering comments sent her way constricted his heart. He fought against it. It was her fault he was here. Damn her and damn the wine.

  “The mighty warrior returns so soon,” a distinctly feminine voice purred, stopping him from pulling open the door.

  He turned. It was her – the lusty blond who had attracted him the first night. His eyes ran over her top to bottom. She smiled as his focus returned to her face.

  “As have you, fair maiden.” Tahruk stepped into the shadows, closing the distance between them. “I’m surprised you haven’t been swept up by a warrior unwilling to let you leave his side.”

  She shrugged then shook her head, the blond locks swishing about her bared shoulders.

  Tahruk focused on her sun kissed skin, knowing she would be soft and warm beneath him.

  “I’m not interested in just any warrior.” She reached forth and fingered the fasteners of his tunic.

  He grabbed her hand and held it to his chest, staring down at her. “You know my chosen has arrived?”

  “Of course. I was there. Remember?” She moved closer to him. “I also spent time with her and the other maidens who arrived by ship.” Pulling herself to full height, she kissed the spot where his neck dipped in. “The Masters did you a disservice, my lord. Your chosen is no match for a mighty warrior whose legendary reputation must surely create cravings beyond those she could ever hope to satisfy.” She pressed herself firmly to him.

  “I am bound to her,” he defended. It was a weak rebuttal and a throaty chuckle told him she was fully aware his being bound did little to lessen the desire he felt at that moment.

  “And yet you returned. What were you expecting to find inside the hall, my lord?” Her hands had begun an intimate dance over his body. “Were you searching for me?”

  He shook his head. “I already told you I would have thought you swept away long before.”

  Again she shrugged. “No royal blood flows through my veins. Though it could flow through my children’s, I suppose. I believe I could assure a man of certain pleasures that would overshadow being wrongly paired.”

  Was she suggesting he take her as a second. Many warriors had them. His mother was a second, sought after the Masters’ choice for his father had failed to bear the required offspring. His mother, however, was as royal as Renaine’s marked. The younger daughter of the chosen family actually, she’d stepped into the role without protest, bringing forth two males and four daughters.

  He looked down at the maiden, breathed in her warm, musky scent. She was fair to look upon, soft beneath his hands. It would be simple to accept her.

  Thoughts of Elenya flooded his mind. How would she feel when she learned he had already taken another, even before he had her? Were her thoughts of any concern to him? After all, the blond was right. His chosen was his enemy who had shown little promise to satisfy.

  Chapter 15

  The warrior settling in beside her caused Elenya to rouse. His bare chest loomed before her eyes and she swallowed hard before looking up into his face.

  “Sleep well?”

  Her brows drew down at the tone of his voice. Was it mocking? Angry? Or did she detect a hint of mirth? She tried to recall what had transpired between them but could not.

  No. She did remember. She felt for her dress and, as she thought, she was fully clothed. Shame shot through her bringing tears to her dulled eyes.

  “Forgive me, my lord. I…”

  “Shh.” He placed two fingers against her lips.

  “Rest, Little One,” he whispered. “Morning is practically upon us.”

  Elenya searched his dark eyes though the moon that had yet to be drowned by the sunrise was not so bright, nor did she know him well enough to know what he was thinking.

  Her lips suddenly dry, she attempted to moisten them only to touch his fingers with the tip of her tongue. The warrior groaned. She started to
pull back then stopped.

  Placing her palms on his chest, she felt his flesh quiver beneath her touch and leaned in to kiss the space between her hands.

  With little effort he pulled her upward, his mouth greedy upon hers, his tongue demanding entrance. She did not deny him.

  She breathed deeply then pulled away. “My lord? Have you been with another woman?” Silence stretched between them, emerald depths searching masked blues as they stared at one another. “You smell of a woman’s scent.” She was backing off the bed though his strong hand grasped her wrist and hauled her back to his side.

  “The intensity of my need should answer your question,” he growled.

  Elenya had no experience in these matters, she only knew her heart hurt and her pride pushed her to try to free herself from him. As she pushed against him, he rolled her to her back and pressed himself on top of her holding her flailing fists above her head. He tried to kiss her, though a quick jerk of her head landed his lips on her jaw. He merely nibbled his way from there to her earlobe instead.

  “Unhand me!” she demanded.

  “I think not.” His voice rumbled against her ear. He pressed her back to the bed as her hips bucked against him in her attempt to free herself. He stifled a chuckle knowing in her innocence she had no idea the rivulets of electrical currents her gyrations exploded within him.

  “I will not be used in this manner,” she squeaked.

  “I will use you in any way I please. Though I can scarce fathom why you fight me so when moments past it was you who tempted me.” He was assaulting her collarbone with tender kisses. She cried out when his tongue darted out to trace the bone line.

  “You have betrayed my honor,” she managed to say on a mere breath, her senses reeling.

  Tahruk stopped. He reared back to stare down at her. Elenya froze as well, frightened by the look in his eyes. Again she wished she could read his looks. All she knew was that the fight drained from her, the only sound between them was the heavy breathing remaining from their exertion.