by Mina Carter
Jess bit back a small smile, easily seeing through Kenna’s joking manner as she realized the other woman was doing exactly what she was—searching through the assembled men to find that one familiar figure. In Kenna’s case, she stopped as soon as she found the tall, broad-shouldered figure of the emperor’s champion, Xaandril, but Jess’ eyes kept searching.
Laarn was a healer, so perhaps he wouldn’t be here. She knew he trained, and could fight, but she wasn’t sure if he was considered a warrior anymore or if his position as healer took precedence.
“And for the first time, I have a personal interest in the outcome of this tournament!” Daaynal announced, as a gong rang and two warriors walked out onto the sands, between the rows already assembled. “My sister-sons have taken to the sands, one a warrior prince and, for the first time in two generations, a lord healer.”
The gasp that went around the crowd was echoed by Cat. “Shit,” she whispered. “He’s gone and done it.”
“What? What did he do?” Jess asked, her eyes drinking in the sight of Laarn. Like his brother next to him, and the rest of the assembled warriors, he was naked to the waist. She heard the whispers of awe and saw the way the warriors he passed looked at him and the scars covering his body. She knew what they meant, knew they marked his standing as the best healer in the empire, but all she wanted to do was kiss each and every one of them to remove the memory of the pain he must have suffered.
Cat’s tone was still shocked. “He’s officially named Laarn as Lord Healer. There’s no way he can wriggle out of it now.”
Unable to tear her gaze away from Laarn as he stood next to his brother—Hells, why didn’t he strip more often? The guy was ripped—Jess leaned toward her a little. “Why would he want to wriggle out of it? From what I’ve heard everyone already considers him lord healer anyway.”
“They do,” Cat confirmed. “But now he’s been named, it would mean he will be based at the healer’s hall here on Lathar Prime rather than being able to head off on one of the K’Vass ships whenever he wants.”
“Ahhh, I see.” Jess settled back in her seat, her gaze still riveted to the big healer in the middle of the arena as he bowed to the emperor and then turned and took a place at the front of the rest of the warriors next to his brother.
And she did. Laarn didn’t strike her as the type of man who liked his movements curtailed, so being restricted to a planet probably wouldn’t impress him any. At the same time, though, she couldn’t help feeling relieved. The Lathar were a warrior culture, as apt to fight amongst themselves for power and position as within the empire, so being on a ship was far more dangerous than being on their home planet. And, from what she’d heard, the healer’s hall was considered neutral ground. No one fought there, which meant Laarn would be safe there. Although she knew he was a warrior, the thought of him being in danger made her chest tighten uncomfortably.
As it was now, seeing him on the sands in front of her was okay, she told herself. This was a tournament of skill, not a battle. They weren’t seriously trying to kill each other.
“Before we start, warriors may take a moment to claim a token from their females to aid them in battle,” Daaynal offered, his arms spread widely to give the warriors on the sands permission to leave it for a moment.
As expected, both Tarrick and Karryl immediately broke formation to walk across the sands toward the pavilion where the human women were sitting, and Jess suddenly realized the purpose of the silken ribbons they’d all been given to wrap around their wrists by the servants upon sitting down.
“My Moore Cat,” Tarrick murmured, a smile on his lips as he came to stand in front of his wife. “If you would be so kind?”
Jess smiled as Cat stood, the elevation of the pavilion meaning she stood equal height with her taller husband, and tied the purple ribbon from her wrist around his upper arm. Swooping in for a kiss, he only stopped when he was jostled aside by Karryl even though there was plenty of room for all the women to stand at the front edge of the pavilion.
“Com’on, we don’t have all day and you’re not the only male here with a mate to impress.”
Tarrick chuckled, ceding his place to the big warrior as he beckoned to Jane. The kiss he bestowed on the tall marine was no surprise, but what did make Jess’ eyes widen was the fact that two men stood behind Karryl.
She had a brief glimpse of the emperor’s champion, Xaandril, whose gaze was locked onto Kenna as he stood in front of them. It was the first time she’d seen the big warrior look anything other than supremely confident as he held out his arm in silence.
But then her breath was taken away as the fourth warrior stepped out from behind Xaandril. Laarn. Two strides brought him to the edge of the pavilion, right in front of her. With a start she found herself standing at the edge of the platform in front of him.
“My lady,” Laarn said quietly, meeting her eyes with an unreadable expression. “I would be honored to wear your colors… if you find me worthy to.”
She couldn’t help it. Her gaze slid down his body, from the long unbound hair across his broad shoulders, over the heavy muscles of his chest and downward toward the cobblestone abs. Heat hit her broadside, swirling through her blood and settling into a hard knot between her thighs. Hell, he was gorgeous… and dressed in just warrior’s leathers, hot as fucking hell.
“I do.” Her voice breathy, she tried to untie the ribbons at her wrist but fumbled it. The knots tightened and she swore under her breath, trying to get them loose, but the edges of the ribbons had wound themselves around each other like a couple of mating snakes.
“Fuck it,” she hissed, trying harder to undo them. “Sorry about this.”
“Here.” He snagged a hand around her wrist and pulled her closer. “Let me.”
His long, strong fingers made short work of the knots. He pulled the ribbon free all too quickly and handed it to her with a small smile.
“Does it matter where I tie it?” she asked, sliding a glance sideways to see Kenna had tied her light blue ribbon around Xaandril’s wrist, just above his leather bracer.
Laarn’s lip quirked a little at the side. “No. The lady picks the location… as long as I don’t have to undress.”
She darted a glance up to meet his eyes, finding warm amusement in the green depths. The heat and arousal in her body hit fever pitch as she imagined peeling the leathers from his body.
“My eyes are up here, beautiful.” His soft murmur made her snap her gaze up to meet his again and her cheeks burned in reaction. Shit, she had so not been ogling him, right here in front of everyone, had she? The small grin on his face and the chuckle from behind her said that she had. Fucking hell.
“Come here.” She stepped in closer and reached up to quickly braid the ribbon through a section of his hair, tying it off in a knot rather than a bow. “There. How’s that?”
He inclined his head a little, the dusky pink of her ribbon a bright flash in the dark locks. “You honor me,” he said quietly, his fingertips brushing the inside of her wrist. “Later, if I prove myself in battle, I will claim another token. Perhaps one more… physical.”
Yes, oh hell yes. She didn’t get the chance to reply as he dropped her wrist and turned back toward the sands, dark hair moving like a cape across his broad shoulders as he went.
“Well… wasn’t that a turn up for the books?” Cat commented, a look of interest in two sets of eyes as she and Jane turned to consider both Kenna and Jess. “Seems you two have been keeping secrets, haven’t you?”
“Later,” Kenna cut her off, nodding toward the arena. “It’s all about to start.”
LAARN WAS on cloud fucking nine.
Not only had Jess given him her token, but she’d looked at him. Actually looked at him, at his body. The heat he’d seen in her eyes said she’d seen him as a man, not his scars. That look would remain stored in his memory forever and even now, as he faced off against the third warrior in his group, the memory was enough to send a bolt of lust through hi
s body.
He growled as the male in front of him launched an attack so predictable he could have countered it in his sleep. How the male had gotten this far, onto the sands for a tournament, he had no clue, but one thing was for sure. He was leaving the competition right now.
Moving like a liras snake, Laarn sidestepped the clumsy attack and reached out as the warrior rushed past him. Two fingers jammed into the side of the male’s neck hit the nerve plexus and made the left side of his body less responsive. It wasn’t much, barely noticeable as he turned to face off against Laarn again, a snarl on his face. But against Laarn, it would make all the difference.
Everything around them—the noise of the crowds, the other fights going on in the other challenge circles, the fact that behind him and to his left Jess watched him—fell away as Laarn’s focus narrowed to this moment in time, to just the two of them and the circle of sand they stood in.
Fighting was like surgery. It required utter focus, dedication and skill. In the operating theater, he fought a one-man war against death or permanent injury, both far more fearsome opponents than the male opposite him. He was big-built, almost as big as Karryl or Daaynal, but heavier-set, the slight layer of fat over the carved muscles indicating a fondness for good food and wines.
Laarn didn’t smile. Instead, he lifted his hand and beckoned the warrior.
The bull-like warrior snarled and charged again. Laarn waited until he could practically smell the male’s breath before he launched his counterattack. Two running steps launched him right at his opponent, the move so quick the other male barely had time to widen his eyes in surprise before Laarn had planted a booted foot on his thigh. Launching himself upward, he arched back, snapping his leading leg out to slam it up and under his opponent’s jaw.
There was the sickening crunch of bone and a strangled sound of pain as the other warrior dropped like a stone. Laarn landed lightly on his feet, bringing his guard up immediately, just in case his opponent was still capable of an attack. But the male wasn’t… sprawled out on the sand with a stunned expression on his face.
Healers and tournament officials swarmed over to them. Two healers dropped to their knees next to the fallen man, quickly checking him over as one of the officials grabbed Laarn’s wrist to raise it and declare him the winner.
“No,” he argued, looking over his shoulder to where his opponent was still being seen to. “Brother, are you okay?”
He got a raised fist from the fallen man, just visible from behind the nearest healer, and then… a thumbs up. Laarn bit back a chuckle and made a mental note to check up on the warrior’s treatment after the tournament was over.
“And the winner is… Laarn K’Vass!” the official bellowed, holding Laarn’s wrist aloft.
The crowd nearby erupted into cheers but Laarn didn’t care about them. His gaze cut immediately to the pavilion where Jess sat with the other women. His heart leapt as he saw her rise to her feet, looking at him with a smile on her face as she clapped with the rest of the crowd. Their gazes locked and the smile dropped from her face as she looked at him. Even with the distance between them, awareness stretched taut and Laarn realized the inevitable…
When the tournament was over, she was his. He would claim her as every cell in his body ached to. He knew it, and now she knew it, a flush rising on her cheeks as she dropped her gaze from his. A smile curved the corner of his lips as he waited and, sure enough, a couple of seconds later she snuck another look at him from under her lashes, something he’d noticed she did often. Usually when she thought he wasn’t looking in the lab.
Later, he promised himself and turned to see who his next opponent might be. Before the officials could announce it, though, two leather-clad warriors approached the emperor, bots standing guard behind them. At the sight of the combat bots in the palace, Laarn straightened up. That wasn’t normal. One look at the expression on his uncle’s face told him it wasn’t and the situation was serious.
Daaynal nodded and rose to his feet, holding his hands out for silence.
“My apologies, ladies and gentlemen, but I am afraid I need to pull two fighters from the tournament. Lord Healer Laarn and Xaandril, my champion, would you please attend me?” he asked, indicating they should approach the dais with the throne. Laarn exchanged a look with the big champion as they walked toward the emperor, but the big man’s expression indicated he was as in the dark as Laarn was.
“Please… continue with the tournament. Lord K’Vass… you are excused from the tournament to preside in my place, with your delightful lady wife of course.”
7
L aarn said nothing as he followed the emperor and his champion into the palace after the messengers. He wasn’t surprised at being pulled into such a meeting with the two most powerful men in the empire, not after Daaynal had named him as lord healer in front of everyone at the tournament. Sure, he still had to undergo the lord healer’s trial, but that was nothing compared to his healer’s trial, a mere formality as he claimed the position. All that mattered was that the emperor had named him, and now his path was set. No getting out of it. Once Daaynal had made his mind up, that was it.
The Emperor made his way into the war-room, turning to watch the rest of them file in. The last to enter were the two messengers, their combat bots taking position to guard the door outside. Laarn frowned. Why were bots being used in place of guards?
“Tell them what you told me,” Daaynal ordered the messengers, motioning toward Laarn and Xaandril. The big champion had leaned his hips back against the nearby conference table, arms folded over his broad chest. Laarn took a moment to flick a glance over the guy’s markings. Drawn in serranas blood and burned right into his skin, they marked all the battles he’d been in over the years. It was an old tradition, not often practiced anymore, not to the extent Xaandril did anyway. Occasionally a warrior marked an important battle. Both he and Tarrick had a starburst marking on their upper arm from their first major battle, but they hadn’t bothered since.
The messengers turned, and Laarn easily read the exhaustion on their faces as well as the way the one on the left held himself stiffly, favoring his left side as though he had sustained an injury there. The one on the right, obviously the senior warrior, spoke.
“We’ve been patrolling the outer borders for the last couple of months,” he started and coughed. When his hand came away, Laarn caught the telltale flash of scarlet in his palm. He was right. Both men had been in battle, recently. The messenger continued, “There’s been increased activity on the borders. Trade, bounty hunters, general unrest and movement. Several colonies and outposts were attacked and at first we thought it was the Krynassis—”
Xaandril hissed at the mentioned of the reptilian race, but Laarn ignored him. The champion’s dislike of reptiles was well known.
“But it wasn’t? How do you know?” he asked, a frown between his brows. The reptilian warrior race had always caused issues, nibbling at the edges of the empire’s territory or even bold enough to raid colony worlds within it, carrying off whatever supplies and slaves they could get their grubby, clawed hands on.
The warrior shook his head. “We were approached by one of their hive queens, the ruling one in the area. She confirmed that their nests are also being targeted… by Lathar. Fortunately for us, she also knew the identity of the clans involved. Apparently, as the queen closest to our borders, she’s been keeping an eye on our politics. She knew these particular clans are not currently in favor.”
“Really?” Daaynal had his arms folded across his chest, rubbing at his stubbled chin with a massive hand. Even though he was undoubtedly male, when he looked like that, a keen light in his green eyes, Laarn saw echoes of his dead mother in her litaan. “Interesting. They’ve never shown such awareness before.”
The warrior shrugged. “It seems there’s been a massive upheaval in their society. There was an uprising, their Brood Queen was challenged and killed, which has filtered down through the Hive Queens. Most have been re
placed with more… forward-thinking females, it seems. Still deadly though. We nearly lost a warrior after he hit on one of her guards.”
Laarn lifted an eyebrow. The reptiles had females, he knew that. He had even seen a few and had to admit they were striking in their own way. He’d never wanted to take one to bed, though. He probably wouldn’t survive the damn night, no matter how attractive she was. Besides, his tastes ran to curvy little Terrans called Jess these days. A fond smile curved his lips and heat rolled through him at the memory of her look as she’d tied her favor in his hair. She would be his soon. Very soon.
“So, which clans?” he asked, bringing the conversation back to the point at hand.
“Three. D’Faran, F’Naar and R’Zaa.”
Xaandril and Daaynal exchanged a look.
“No surprise there,” the champion grunted. “Those three have been a pain in the ass for years one way or another.” He fixed his gaze on the emperor. “Are you finally going to let me go kick their asses to the afterlife and back?”
Daaynal ran a hand through his hair, scooping the loose strands back off his face and snapping a band from his wrist around it.
“I think we have to. If those two have linked up with D’Faran, this isn’t just clan leaders being a little pissy… they could field a war group big enough to cause serious damage if they tried to take Lathar Prime.”
Laarn rubbed his chin and then suddenly became aware it was an almost identical gesture to the one his uncle had used. Quickly he dropped his hand in case they thought he was imitating the emperor. “They won’t attempt to take the home system,” he said.
“Think about it. D’Faran have purist tendencies, and both the others got soundly spanked by the Terran women… Kenna held a pistol to J’aett’s head in front of all his men in the main courtyard and Jane blew Ishaan F’Naar’s brains out on his own ship for poisoning Karryl. No, they won’t come for Lathar Prime… they’ll go for Earth itself. Remove the problem at the source.”