At last, Mikayla huffed and pushed until he released her. Saran watched her leave and two Warlords tipped their heads toward Vaan. Keil and Marek flowed from the crowd to follow close behind her.
Saran didn’t waste time. Something Mikayla said hit him as if it was the answer he sought. “What did she mean? Why does she pity our women? Warlords are proud fighters. More so than the Raasa males.”
Raasa were all of slim build and tended toward a peaceful nature. They allowed females to often rule them without complaint. From what he could tell, they did not compare to a Kabanian in any way.
Vaan palmed his mouth and sighed. When he lowered his hand, his lips twisted in a wry smile. “She speaks of matters in the bedroom.”
Brows crinkling, Saran struggled to understand. “Our bodies are fit. Larger, harder than the Raasa.”
Vaan snorted. “And that is why Mikayla says it is a great shame for all of Kaban women that we do not use it better.”
Slowly the meaning sunk in. Long used to bed play from his years as a youngling, Saran had never considered himself lacking. Women fought to share his sheets. Melane never complained.
Thinking of her, his head swung back around to see her still in conversation with Casin but this time they both smiled as they talked. Were they standing closer? Unable to take his eyes off of the two, the question rolled forth without thought. “Mikayla complains of your bed play?”
Saran couldn’t imagine his brother wasn’t worthy. He ripped his gaze from Melane and Casin. Any longer and he’d not be able to hide his displeasure.
“No longer.” Vaan gripped the end of his hair in the low tail, another heavy exhale escaping. “Raasa are different. They believe bed play is to be enjoyed by both. A female’s pleasure is an untold reward.”
Saran gaped. “Nonsense. A true Kabanian woman should remain unmoving and allow the warrior to achieve his release.”
Vaan remained silent, his stare speaking for him.
“Are you saying she moves?” The very thought appalled Saran and yet his toqa throbbed between his legs.
Red streaks appeared on his brother’s cheeks. “They do things. The women and the men. It is pleasurable for both.”
This was too hard to believe. Saran’s curiosity would not abate. His brother had more to say and held back. “Tell me more of this, Vaan.”
Vaan glowered and crossed his arms over his chest. “Raasa do not only kiss on the mouth.”
Brows drawn, Saran listened to the words and tried to fashion what wasn’t said. His mind came to its own conclusion as he envisioned the possibilities. “All of Raasa participate in bed play in this manner?”
A sharp nod was his only answer.
“I speak truth when I say it sounds perverse.” And exciting. What would it feel like if Melane’s hips bumped against his? How would he feel if she wrapped her legs about him? And to put their mouths on hidden places? He refused to contemplate if his brother but teased.
Saran’s admission loosened his brother’s stern expression. Vaan’s mouth twitched. “My Warlords who agree with you must seek pleasure in the village of Luall. The Raasa women will not bend on this.”
“They dare refuse worthy Warlords?” The very thought offended Saran. All of Kaban admired the men who lived in Raasa with the Overlord. Those Warlords could have any Kabanian woman they wanted. Saran searched the room and sought his brother’s men. Only a few remained, the others already in bed with a female of their choosing more than like.
Vaan unfolded his arms and slammed a hand down on Saran’s shoulder. “I have learned that if you wish to be happy, a true warrior will be open to what his woman wishes.”
“Like kutthra?” Saran questioned, eyeing the Overlord’s uncut hair. He had always wondered why Vaan did not shorten his hair as a sign to females he was committed and not accepting invitations to share bed play.
“Mikayla likes my hair.” Vaan shrugged. “It is a small sacrifice as we learn our way together. Now I will join my mate.”
Saran could only stand there left to ponder his words. Until Melane laughed, drawing his attention to her again.
***
Warlord Casin proved to be honorable and nice. Once Melane told him in no uncertain terms that she and Saran were not together, he studied her expression then inclined his head in acceptance. They spoke of casual things and not once did she glance in Saran’s direction.
Neera was right to steer her away from the Galip men.
“Warlord Casin—”
“You have leave to call me Casin,” he interrupted.
The blush heated her face along with the dark look in his eyes. She swallowed and smiled. “Casin.”
Her stomach dipped at how he now stared. There was no missing his desire. He grasped her hand and squeezed. It was a familiar touch for one who did not know her well. His fingers were rough like another Warlord she didn’t want to think about.
“I would retire for the night...Casin. Thank you for your company.”
Releasing her hand, his lips curved. “I will see you to your room.”
Another surge of heat to her cheeks but Melane found herself nodding. “Thank you.”
They left together and no one seemed to notice them. When they reached her room, Melane leaned her back against the door frame and clasped her hands in front of her. Casin placed a hand at her waist and braced an arm on the wall beside her head as he leaned in close. Heat emanated from his body and yet she shivered in response.
He noticed and his gaze grew languid. “Melane, would you come to my bed—”
“Melane, it is late.”
The harsh voice cut off what Casin had been about to say. Casin released her immediately, losing his relaxed pose and took a protective stance in front of her.
Saran glared at Casin then Melane. She shivered again but for an entirely different reason. His dark brown eyes held an anger she wasn’t used to seeing.
“Warlord Saran.” Her words trembled.
Casin bowed. “Saran.”
“You should rest, Melane. It grows late and the Overlord will leave in the morning.”
Which meant everyone needed to be present to see him off. Still she wasn’t a youngling in need of direction. “I will rest fine, Warlord, my thanks. Casin and I are not finished.”
She stepped to the side of Casin in order to give Saran a dark look of her own. Doubt crept into his gaze followed by surprise. “You overstep, Melane. Have you leave to address a Warlord so familiar?”
Humiliation burned low in her gut. He was the only one who withheld the right to call him by birth name. Before she could inform him of this, Casin pulled her near and his arm clamped tight about her waist. “She has leave.”
Another shocked look crossed Saran’s face. Their eyes met and locked. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Melane?”
“We seek privacy, Saran.” Casin glanced down at her and Melane ducked her head from the desire he made no effort to hide. “Melane says she no longer shares your bed. Is this truth?”
She could feel Saran’s gaze. It took effort but with a deep breath, Melane lifted her eyes and faced Saran. Nothing could hide his stunned amazement. A small part of her reveled as she reminded him of his own words. “You were clear in your wishes, Warlord.”
He stepped back with such turmoil swirling in the depths of his eyes, Melane had to curl her fingers tight to fight the instinct to reach for him. More than anything, she wanted to console him. Despair flashed in his gaze followed by remorse and then anger rounded out the flurry of emotions. It was a revelation to see the usually stoic Warlord lose control even if only momentarily.
With another step back, Saran’s lips firmed. He shot Melane an ugly look that left her cringing. Next he turned a similar glare on Casin but the Warlord to her surprise didn’t back down.
“She speaks truth. My apologies, Casin, for interrupting.”
Saran didn’t glance in her direction again as he turned on his heels and strode away, anger vivid in the
rigid set of his shoulders. Casin waited until they could no longer see the tall Warlord before speaking. “He is not pleased with you.”
Melane licked her lips and swallowed past the sudden dryness in her throat. “Yes, well...it is unfortunate.”
She left it at that. What else could she say? Saran ended things between them abruptly and ripped her heart to shreds in the process. He did not have cause to make her feel guilt about taking his words and moving on. But saying it didn’t lessen the terrible pressure filling her chest.
“I think I will leave you for the night. Long have I envied Saran but I will not overstep. Mayhap there is more between you in need of resolve.” Casin cupped her jaw to stare into her eyes. Surprise at the kindness reflected there held her immobile. “Good rest to you, Melane.”
When he released her, his fingers trailed across her skin and she was pleasantly surprised at the tingles left in his wake.
Chapter 8
Uncaring who noticed, Saran stared at Melane. With Vaan and his family gone, nothing distracted him from his obsession. Another week had passed since he discovered her with Casin at her bedroom door. He did not know if they spent the night together then or any other time since.
Every day he watched as Melane went about her daily duties, mindful of the way she moved, the sway of her hips along with the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath she took.
Slowly it came to his realization that he...missed her. Certainly he knew he’d had a strong care for her during their time together but he never expected to feel as if his life shifted without her presence in his bed each night.
In fact, when Saran thought more about it, the truth slammed home like a blow to the face. Unlike previous invitations with females, he enjoyed resting in his room with Melane after bed play. It had been difficult hiding that one weakness from others. Warriors did not trust a female enough to sleep at their side but it was truth that he wasn’t as quick to dismiss Melane as he had others.
Now he was forced to observe like an outsider her pleasure in the company of other warriors. Or rather one Warlord in particular who found favor in her eyes. Why did it have to be Casin?
As Melane spoke, the tall Warlord bent to hear her clearly. They exchanged a short conversation but it was enough to rub Saran like an abrasive cloth over his skin. Melane touched a hand to the muscled arm near her, color deepening in her cheeks. Such contact declared the intimacy they shared as nothing else could. Lancing pain tightened his chest, making breathing difficult.
Saran glared as the man left her side and strode toward him, eyes glittering with residual satisfaction.
“Greetings, Saran.”
“Casin.” Respect compelled Saran to respond politely to the Warlord who was more than a friend and fellow warrior.
What tempted him to strike Casin in the face was the knowing smirk playing about his mouth. Melane passed by, an overflowing tray in her hands. Both of them watched as she exited the dining hall, bumping the door leading to the kitchen open with her hip. Once she disappeared, they faced one another again.
Saran clenched his fingers, not breaking eye contact. “You and Melane grow close it would seem.”
Wise to his tactic, Casin merely shrugged without answering the implied question. Instead the Warlord spoke of other matters. “There is a restlessness that grows. Rumbles have become stirrings. My guard is up as I wait but it does not feel right.”
Saran understood of what Casin spoke. Kuran had gone quiet. No word or report of his current whereabouts, though it reasoned the former Warlord continued to stay far beyond the claimed boundaries of Kaban to avoid discovery.
“I agree. Are others feeling the same discontent?”
A grunt proceeded Casin’s answer. “Many wish for it to be over. They want Kuran to pay while others are simply eager for the sport of battle.”
Saran too felt the need to fight. It was a part of being a Kabanian warrior. Fighting an enemy renewed a sense of purpose from deep within. It was at the core of who they were. Kuran’s tactics left much to be desired. Harming those incapable of defending themselves shamed him and those who followed him.
“He will make a mistake and we will be ready. Until such time, we train and guard our home closely.”
Each Warlord and his designated warriors patrolled the land where they made their home and the surrounding area of Kaban. Reports came to Saran nightly and nothing unusual stood out to him. Between the Council pushing for unneeded power, keeping the warriors fit, his unfulfilled feelings about Melane, he often wondered how Vaan had handled it all.
Living away from the center of Kaban kept Saran from directly witnessing his brother’s rule but he knew if he experienced a fraction of what Vaan did for so many years, he well understood why the Overlord held no wish to return. In Raasa, Vaan was loved by his mate and none could disturb the peace he found with Mikayla and their youngling.
“What say you, Saran, are you up for a hunt of our own?”
Deliberating Casin’s question for all of a second, Saran twisted his hair into a fast knot at the top of his head to control the loose strands. He put aside thoughts of Melane. “I am of a mind to hunt.”
The thrill of chasing wild game and venting out frustration would do him well. They exchanged like grins and headed for the hapfe stables, the thin line of discord caused by their interest in the same woman gone.
***
While keeping occupied with the meal prep which then moved to folding freshly laundered linen, Melane continued to break away to check the main hall for signs of Saran and Casin. According to one of the warriors, both Warlords left on an unexplained trip.
Nerves pricked her spine as worry played with her concern for both, though it was Saran at the forefront of her mind. Neera walked by and yanked on her hair. “Is it Warlord Saran or Warlord Casin who has you running to the windows ever so often?”
“I am not checking the windows.” Melane elbowed her and they both snickered.
Neera squinted. “I wonder who you think to fool. Me or yourself?”
“I speak truth,” Melane declared.
“Lie.” Neera pinched her upper arm.
Melane rubbed at the sting and sighed. “I but searched for Warlord Saran.”
“I heard he left with Warlord Casin. Think you they have word of Kuran?” Neera leaned in close as she asked and began helping Melane put away the last of the blankets in the hall closet.
“I think they would not have gone alone if Kuran was sighted.”
Whispers grew daily as everyone wondered when or where the former Warlord would strike next. They received warnings to stay close and not to venture out alone if possible.
“This is truth.” Neera finished sorting the linen, leaned against the wall and folded her arms over her chest.
Melane knew her friend planned to question her more about Warlord Casin but she had no answer and sought to distract. “I am done for the day. We should walk about or ride to get a bit of air.”
Her father taught her to ride hapfe as a youngling and Melane enjoyed going out if she had time. Like the Overlord, Warlord Saran did not voice complaints if the household wished to use the many bi-pedal mounts kept in the stables. Plus, Daviel held a soft spot for her in his heart.
“I will accompany you. A ride sounds good after being behind walls for so long.”
Plans made, they spent the rest of their afternoon riding and laughing in the wooded area outside the boundaries of the compound but not far enough away they risked danger.
“Do you still practice that trick with your rock slinger?” Neera’s face was flushed with exertion as she asked the question.
Surprise caught Melane. They rested the hapfe and walked along a well worn path. “It has been some time. I was quite foolish in my games.”
Though she spoke the words lightly, Melane searched the ground for an appropriate stick. One like the many she’d played with as a youngling. Her eyes landed on the perfect branch, the two ends veering in oppos
ite directions at the top. It spanned the length of her forearm. As she reached for the twig, Melane teased. “Now I am tempted.”
Holding her improvised toy, Melane slid the leather binding from her hair and looped the ends around the top pieces, creating a stretch of material. Neera laughed. “This brings me good memories.”
Undoubtedly Neera remembered the many days Melane spent with a sore bottom when caught slinging rocks at unsuspecting people. Her mother had not been amused.
Melane held it aloft. The feel of it in her grip had a smile curving her lips. “I but need a rock to see if my aim remains true.”
Neera’s eyes glowed with triumph as she handed over a fairly large pebble in shades of red and gold. Melane bit off a laugh at this bit of nonsense but accepted the token with a gracious nod then notched it on the leather band.
Neera pointed toward a tree to the left, its large dappled leaves hard to miss. “There, Melane. Try there.”
Her heart fluttered but Melane took a deep indrawn breath, released it slowly then let her fingers snap back. They watched as the rock soared through the air and hit the selected target. The branch holding the spray of leaves fell to the grassy spot on the ground beneath the tree. Neera clapped her hands and cheered.
Melane let loose a surprised chuckle, feeling more relaxed than she had in ages. She was glad she and Neera decided to come out. It felt good to have harmless fun.
“You are still a youngling at heart.”
Startled, Neera screamed and Melane dropped her pretend weapon. Both spun around to see the two Warlords sitting behind them on hapfe back. Casin and Saran. A lazy smile played about Casin’s lips and his glance at Melane held nothing but admiration. Saran’s stare was more intense. A glimmer of something she couldn’t define passed too quickly in his gaze and her palms grew sweaty.
Thankfully, Neera jumped in. “Melane was ever a wicked one. I was reminded of her skill with this today.”
Unexpected Bride (Warlord Series Book 6) Page 6