Allegiance Sworn (A NOVEL OF THE LIGHT BLADE)

by Kylie Griffin

  The thought of breaking Miana’s fingers came from nowhere. A swift twist and jerk would do it.

  Arek stiffened, his gaze remaining downcast, but it flickered in her direction. She flattened her hand against her thigh, the smallest gesture of restraint, and he held his place.

  “He’s gorgeous,” Miana purred, and leaned in to inhale his scent. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “And I bet he tastes just as good as he smells, too.”

  The image of her sinking her teeth into him spiked another dark rush of adrenaline. Miana’s fingers traced the width of his shoulders. Arek’s hands fisted then flexed as his chest rose and fell on a deep breath. Imhara inhaled but couldn’t detect any betraying scent coming from him.

  Such control. A marked improvement in a small amount of time.

  The trader cleared his throat. “Na’Reishi Miana, I apologize but . . .”

  “If Imhara’s contracted his services, then I’ll double your asking price.”

  “Price isn’t the issue, Na’Reishi.”

  The woman pouted. “Then what is the problem?”

  “He’s mine, Miana.” Imhara chuckled, the sound soft, almost mocking. “I own him.”

  Closing the distance, she flicked a fingernail against the gold band on Arek’s bicep. The faint ting drew Miana’s violet gaze and a squint of annoyance. She couldn’t have missed seeing it, or the Kaal emblem etched into the metal, just chosen to ignore it.

  “Well, that’s a disappointment.” A heavy, feigned sigh, then a sly smile. “You must come and join our celebration. Evec has his little female to amuse him and his friends. We can have our own private celebration. Your slave can be our entertainment. I can’t wait to taste him.”

  Imhara stepped in between them, her smile anything but friendly. “I have no intention of sharing him, Miana, and to assume otherwise would be ill-advised.”

  Wanting to protect Arek, or any human male, from the dangerous female came as no surprise, but what she felt for Arek went a lot deeper than ensuring his physical well-being. Her heart was definitely involved—a startling revelation—although just how much he’d claimed of it she wasn’t sure.

  Now though wasn’t the time or place to work it out.

  “Pass on my greetings and apologies to your group, but I have other plans. Good evening, Miana.” Imhara then turned her attention to Ilahn. Socializing held little appeal now. “I’d like a private room, Na’Reishu Ilahn.”

  No way was she going to risk exposing Arek any further. The public venue gave those visiting some leeway to touch another’s slave, but the highborn female enjoyed pushing the limits.

  “Of course, Na Kaal.” Ilahn inclined his head.

  Annoyance flashed through Miana’s gaze at being so promptly dismissed. Her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything, one of the House staff moved to escort her back to the main reception area. Imhara gave a small, satisfied nod as they disappeared around the edge of the screen.

  “Just for a limited time or overnight?” the trader asked.

  “Overnight.”

  Word of her absence from the second betrothal meeting should have reached Savyr by now. After humiliating Jirri and now skipping a meeting, she couldn’t see the Na’Rei waiting until tomorrow to discipline her.

  Yet no one in camp, except Rassan, knew her whereabouts, and while he wouldn’t withhold the information, he’d take his time revealing it. As any good Second would when his Na didn’t wish to be found.

  “Do you want one of your new slaves to join you this evening?” Ilahn’s query drew her back from her thoughts. “The blond male you purchased would make for an excellent pairing with the one you brought. The stamina of youth coupled with a slave already familiar with your preferences. The perfect training session.”

  The Na’Reishu was a smooth talker, as depraved as his business, but like the fancy surroundings of his establishment, well practiced in using the trappings of congeniality to hide his darker side.

  Beside her Arek shifted, the soft scuff of his boot on stone accompanied the sharp odor of anger, there one moment then gone the next. Imhara didn’t need to see him to know he disliked Ilahn’s suggestion.

  What intrigued her though was the hint of spice lacing the anger. She could understand his anger being a knee-jerk reaction to the situation or a protest to her agreeing, but why the sexual undertone?

  Was it the suggestion of sharing her with another?

  Did he object?

  A small grin curved her lips.

  Now there was an interesting thought. A possibility to explore once they were alone.

  “A tempting idea but this male is enough for me to handle at the moment.” Her wry reply drew a laugh from the trader. “If you could arrange for the slaves to be delivered to my camp. My Second or Commander Barrca should be there to take delivery.”

  “Of course.” He raised his hand as she reached for her pouch. “Consider the transport and room complimentary, to mark your family’s many years of generous patronage. Long may the House of Ilahn continue to serve yours, Na Kaal.”

  An astute business tactic, one she’d take advantage of.

  “Much appreciated, Na’Reishu Ilahn,” she murmured.

  Another smile and a quick flick of his fingers brought two more house staff to his side. A few whispered words, and as one young woman moved off, the second asked them to accompany her, and they exited the reception area through a curtained doorway.

  A short walk down a corridor lined with closed doors and the attendant stopped in front of the very last, the only one with its door ajar. The hallway was quiet, and the sounds of the celebrating group followed them.

  Once inside though, Imhara knew the noise would be nonexistent. The house walls were thick, almost soundproof, offering privacy; a welcome respite from the last few hours.

  Moving past the attendant, she gave the luxurious room a cursory glance. It was as extravagant and well catered as the rest of the house.

  “It meets with your approval, Na Kaal?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Then enjoy your evening, Na’Reishi.” The young woman executed a bow and the door closed with a soft snick behind her, and everything went silent.

  “Thank the Lady for small mercies,” she murmured. A little of the tension roiling inside her dissipated. She turned to find Arek just standing there, watching her, his expression a combination of subdued amusement and curious confusion. “What?”

  In two strides he was in front of her, his twilight gaze direct, searching. His mouth curved at the corners just a little. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen Na Kaal with her claws out.”

  Imhara snorted. “Miana isn’t someone you’d want interested in you, Arek.” Trust him to have picked up on her uncharacteristic rivalry. “I threatened her just like I do everyone else.”

  “Uh-huh.” His smile twitched. “I’m curious, do you claim all your male slaves like that in front of her, or just me?”

  Chapter 33

  “CLAIM you?” A faint flush heated Imhara’s skin, working its way from her neck to her cheeks even though she tried to control it.

  Teasing was the last thing she’d expected from Arek.

  He nodded, his small smile betraying his enjoyment at her shock. She shook her head, not at all sure whether he was ready to go where this line of questioning seemed to be headed. Not yet.

  Light, she wasn’t even sure!

  “Arek, tonight I protected you.” She chuckled, trying to keep the moment lighthearted. “If I’d claimed you, you’d have known it.”

  She’d been tempted. Very tempted. The tension in her belly hadn’t disappeared with Miana’s withdrawal, although it had morphed from the raw heat of outrage to something deeper, more combustible.

  Arek’s talk of her claiming him was like laying tinder to embers. It wouldn’t take much to ignite either if he kept adding fuel to the flames. And this conversation was fast moving in that direction. Did he realize that?

  Imhar
a corralled her thoughts. “If you hadn’t noticed, Miana likes provoking reactions. She does it to anyone who lets her. There’s every chance she saw your armband and decided to play one of her games.”

  She’d almost stooped to Miana’s level, but annoying her further by claiming Arek publicly wasn’t justifiable reason enough to push his limits. He might have committed to helping her, but their fledgling relationship remained on uncertain ground.

  Witnessing the Isha had definitely tested him. Their confrontation in the bidding room was proof of that. And even though he’d apologized, the memory of his reaction and accusation still lingered.

  “Now who’s the one giving half answers?” Arek shook his head slowly. “Imhara, you were a hairsbreadth away from taking her out with a fist.”

  Light, why was he pursuing this?

  Imhara put the width of the ornate rug between them, needing a distraction, but everything in the room, from the huge bed she had to step around to the supply of haze twists sitting in the burner on a table against the wall, served as reminders of what needed avoiding.

  Frowning, she pivoted on her heel. “Do you really want to discuss this now, Arek?”

  “I don’t blame you for being reluctant to share your thoughts with me after how I acted earlier.” He paused a moment, then his jaw firmed. “But I’m choosing to face what we’re dealing with here head-on instead of ignoring it.”

  Choice.

  Knowing what she did about his past, she knew how important this was to him. Imhara searched his scent for any sourness, but the odor remained pure citrus.

  “I liked seeing you react that way with Miana.” His admission sent a frisson of pleasure through her. “How far would you have gone to prove your point?”

  His gaze glittered with curiosity as a familiar spicy scent teased her nostrils. She inhaled a deeper breath, unable to resist savoring it. It tugged at her, like the undercurrent of a deep, mountain stream, insistent and hard to resist. Her boot scuffed on the rug before she caught herself. His gaze flickered down, his slow smile confirming he’d noted her reaction.

  And just that quickly, with a look that went from inquisitive to hot in a heartbeat, he ignited the flame inside her.

  “All right.” Resolve edged her softly spoken words.

  A small tremor ran through him.

  Uncertainty or anticipation?

  Maybe a little of both, because each gnawed at her.

  The rigid line of his shoulders tightened as she crossed the rug to him. Placing her hands on his chest, she gave him a gentle push. Holding his gaze, matching him step for step, she backed him up until he came to a stop against the wall beside the door.

  She slid her hand from his chest, over his vest, to trace the edge of the gold band on his bare arm. The metal was as warm as his skin. “The emblem of the Kaal Clan.”

  Arek grunted. “You tapped it. Made sure Miana saw it.”

  “My mark of ownership. Protection for anyone wearing it.” Her fingernails scratched his flesh in a light caress as they went down his arm. “I may have wanted to claim you in front of her”—dropping her hand to his thigh, she ran her fingers up the inside seam of his breeches—“but I didn’t know if you’d accept this—” She cupped him, the press of her palm firm. His sharp inhalation fired her blood. “In public.”

  She closed her hand around him, her own breath catching as he hardened with her touch. What she wouldn’t give to unbuckle his belt and feel him, flesh to flesh. He’d be smooth, velvet steel. Pulsing and hot.

  “Crude but effective.” She stroked the length of him, from base to tip, felt him shudder, and smiled. “You like me touching you like this.”

  “You already know I do.” That came from between gritted teeth.

  On the next stroke, he made a sound in the back of his throat, and pushed his hips toward her, thrusting into her palm. She teased him again, slowly tightening and easing her grasp, up and down, watching the skin across his cheeks tighten in pleasure, the color in them darken.

  His growing hunger fed hers. Her heart pumped the heat right around her body, until she trembled like he did. She brushed her fingers over the rounded curve of his sac, squeezed it gently, then retraced his length again and felt him thicken, liking how quickly he responded.

  Leaning in close, she grazed her lips against the shell of his ear and smiled at his sudden indrawn breath. His chest brushed against hers, the sensation causing her nipples to pebble.

  Light, that felt good.

  “You asked how far I’d have gone to prove my point to Miana.” His cheek touched hers, his jaw flexing, his breathing shallow, hot against her neck. “I wouldn’t have stopped with a quick feel, Arek. Given the nature of the celebration she was inviting us to, we’d have both ended up naked. There’s nothing that says, you’re mine, more than if I’d ridden you, then made you beg for release.” Drawing back, she met his gaze. “And you would have. Guaranteed.”

  Arek stilled, his whole body stiffening. A quick caress with her thumb along his length once more, then she stepped back. The color on his cheeks matched the fiery protest swirling in his gaze. She smiled wryly and placed a finger over his lips as they opened to speak.

  “Remember, you’re my blood-slave. Keeping you hungry for my next feeding would make you compliant. You’d do anything to please me.”

  She trailed her fingertips over his bottom lip, his jaw, then moved to the center of the room. Better to remove herself from temptation.

  “How comfortable would you have been doing that in front of Miana?” She cocked an eyebrow. “The other Na’Reishi? Or Ilahn and his staff?”

  By the way his cheeks darkened with a fresh flush, probably not at all.

  “Point taken,” he conceded, his tone gravelly. “And what about now? Was this just a demonstration? A way to drive a message home?”

  “It could be taken that way,” she conceded.

  Arek’s spicy scent overwhelmed her and made it hard to gauge his reasoning behind the questions. Yet he stared at her, the sound of breathing harsh, the fit of his breeches over his straining erection tight, desire evident in the burn of his gaze.

  He did nothing to hide any of his reactions—a warrior who hated revealing any weakness—and her pulse fluttered with the significance of the moment.

  Need, hopes, desires, all too long buried, spiraled up from inside her. Her thoughts burst forth, like a dam giving under pressure, some sharp and crystal clear, the majority obscure yearnings, indistinct through denial, all raw enough to make breathing and speaking difficult.

  How long had it been since she’d allowed herself the simple pleasure of looking at a man with the sole purpose of enjoying what she saw? Training with the Na’Hord and working around the fortress had once provided that small pleasure, yet over time she’d blocked it out, trained herself not to notice as it left her aching and unfulfilled.

  The familiar dissatisfaction of unrealized dreams.

  The possibilities of what Arek was asking, telegraphing, were terrifying and exciting. And there was no denying he tempted her like no one ever had before, if she was willing to take the risk.

  Imhara swallowed against her dry throat. “For five years I’ve concentrated on nothing but my Clan, our legacy, and ensuring we all survive. I’ve sacrificed many things to keep that focus, including denying myself the pleasure of a lover.” She retreated to sit on the edge of the bed and drew in a slow, deep breath. “So, it frightens me to admit that I want you as one, Arek. I shouldn’t, but I do.” She gave a shaky laugh. “And to answer your question, I hope you’d see this as an invitation, not a demonstration or a lesson.” Her pulse skipped hard in her throat. “If you want this to be something more than me proving a point, then you need to tell me. You need to let me know where you want this to go.”

  “I decide?” Arek’s voice vibrated with a deep huskiness that sent shivers over her skin. His twilight gaze glittered as he pushed away from the wall and came toward her. “And if I want to claim you?”
/>
  Imhara clenched the soft bed cover, a thrill streaking though her innards at his softly posed question. She wet her lips. “I wish you would.”

  His step faltered, then he chuckled, his teeth flashing white in the ambient lamplight. “Lady’s Breath, you never cease to surprise me.”

  His spicy scent saturated the air, stronger than before. Imhara inhaled deeply, savoring it, swallowing thickly as her mouth filled with saliva. He came to a halt in front of her, his knees brushing hers.

  “Unbuckle your sword belt.”

  Her hand shook as she released the catch then slid the leather free of the buckle and handed it to Arek. He placed it within easy reach, on the lid of the chest pushed up against the end of the bed.

  “Lean back on your hands and don’t move.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Did this mean he’d accepted her invitation?

  Her heart beat faster. Desire and need fluttered hard in her stomach.

  Was he going to claim her?

  There was only one way to find out.

  She did as he requested.

  * * *

  AREK plucked at the ties on his vest, observing Imhara as he shirked the garment.

  “Five years is a long time to deny yourself.”

  A jerk and tug and his belt slid free from around his waist. He dropped it on top of his vest. A quick flick of a clasp eased the pressure of his breeches over his erection.

  Her gaze dropped lower, drawn by his movements. The heat in her eyes, the rosy flush of color staining her cheek, the sweep of her tongue over her bottom lip impacted Arek like a blow to his gut.

  Shrugging, Imhara drew in a deeper breath. Unable to resist, he watched the rise and fall of her breasts, liking the way her shirt strained over them, the material clinging to her curves, her nipples.

  Just how sensitive were they? Did she like them to be played with? Stroked? Pinched? Sucked? Bitten? He suspected all, going by what he’d experienced with her so far.