The Savage King

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by The Savage King(lit)


  Kirill groaned, leaning over to pull her hands down. "Ah, you do drive a man to distraction, don't you, human?"

  Ulyssa turned to glare at him. He chuckled to see her look.

  "What is your name, human?" he asked.

  "Ulyssa," she slurred without thought, turning back to contemplate her achy breasts. A finger dipped beneath her chin, drawing her attention back up to the dark eyes. She sighed prettily, simpering like a fool and not caring.

  "Lyssa, I'm Kirill. I'm going to take you to a different part of the castle to sleep off the affects of the drink you took. Do you understand?"

  Ulyssa frowned at his condescending tone. Her eyes narrowed in disgust, before getting distracted by his mouth.

  Kirill laughed softly. "I am sorry, little one, but you will just have to miss the pairing tonight. You're in no condition to choose a mate."

  Ulyssa snorted, not paying attention to him.

  Kirill frowned and glanced around the empty hall, as if struggling with a decision. Finally, taking her by her arm, he walked her down the hallway, away from the harem. He didn't look at her again as he led her through the long halls, winding around turns until she was completely lost. Ulyssa didn't care. She couldn't stop staring at his face, as she simpered like a witless maid.

  * * * *

  "What a nightmare," Ulyssa grumbled, stretching her arms over her head. Satin sheets cocooned her body, gliding over her naked flesh in a tickling caress. For a moment, she smiled and arched her back at the feel of luxurious comfort. An unfamiliar wave of contentment washed over her.

  Suddenly, she froze in mid-stretch. The relaxation in her body was replaced by a slow building of stress in her limbs. Her eyes popped open and moved around in her head. She was naked, in a strange bed, in a strange stone room. This wasn't good sign.

  Ulyssa shot up, sitting on the bed. The large bedroom had a smooth stone floor with woven rugs. She could tell that, like everything else in the Var palace, great attention had been paid to the detail of their making. Staying true to style, the large marble fireplace was carved to perfection and sported a comfortable fire. The bed, covered in dark blue satin sheets and a matching blue and silver coverlet, dominated the floor. Seeing the two arched doorways leading from the room, one with a door and one without, she frowned.

  "Where the hell am I?"

  Ulyssa threw the covers from her body and edged to the side of the bed. Her bare feet dropped down on the floor. Walking to the entrance without a door, she peeked in. It was a long closet, filled with nothing but clothes cut to fit a man. A flash of a sinfully dark gaze came to her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  "Think, Ulyssa, reason it out."

  Lyssa.

  The name was an echo in her head. She shivered, recalling a deep, rich, Var accented voice. She knew it wasn't Attor. Had she slept with the bearer of that voice? Surely if she had, she would have done so with a plan of escape. She could remember no plan, but she could recall every detail of a firm body next to hers in the hallway, grinding and pressing her into the wall. Hell, she'd been ready to screw his brains out right there. Why hadn't she? It wasn't like she was shy.

  Ulyssa frowned, wrinkling her brow in deep thought. The night unfolded slowly in her mind, foggy yet real. She'd escaped the harem. A man found her. She'd come on to him with no thought of escape.

  Ulyssa grimaced, but was not embarrassed by her actions. She'd wanted him and had gone for him, no big deal. Then, he'd rejected her. She scowled, stuck on the memory. He'd rejected her? Now, how was that possible? That never happened.

  "Nothing happened," she whispered, not sure if she felt relief or irritation. Her pride stung at the memory, but she tried her best to ignore it. Lightly, she scratched her naked backside as she went in to explore his enormous closet. It was bigger than her entire quarters at the Agency. Rubbing the back of her neck, she continued to frown. "He brought me back here. I took off my own clothes and made a pass at him. He then left me here--alone, unfulfilled. Huh. What the hell is that all about?"

  A long, rectangular window commanded the far wall of the closet, letting in the soft light from outside. She could see a balcony beyond the window with stone and iron railings along the edge. The dusky green-blue sky spread out before her and she realized the bedroom was high off the ground. A majestic display of forest and mountains stretched before her. She could even see a clear lake tapering off into the distance. Its glassy surface reflected the three suns.

  Ulyssa was stunned into momentary silence at the awe-inspiring sight. There was something quite magical about the Var palace, something that stirred a suppressed part of her being. She thought it best not to explore that part of her soul. Some things were better left hidden.

  A quick scan of the rooms proved he'd taken her clothes with him when he left. She searched the closet for something decent to wear and found a cross-laced shirt, like the one the man had worn the night before. The shirt was too big for her smaller frame, but she didn't care.

  Not caring that she was stealing, Ulyssa slipped the garment over her head and adjusted it to fit her smaller size, pulling the laces tight. She did the same with a pair of pants, lacing them up along her thighs. Using the extra length of cross-laces, she made a makeshift belt around her waist. Then, finding a floor length jacket with long sleeves, she pulled it on. There was no way she'd get into his boots so she didn't even try, opting to remain barefoot for the moment.

  "Not bad," she murmured, admiring herself in a mirror as she unbound her hair only to pull it back again. She found it easier to work if it was out of her way.

  Walking through the bedroom, she slowly opened the second door and peeked out. The light was dim after the brightness of the bedroom fireplace. Slowly, she closed the door and edged forward. From what she could tell, it looked like a living room, complete with a couch and chairs, more arched entryways leading to various parts of the house.

  "Here kitty, kitty, kitty," she whispered, a little too spitefully. Whoever the man was, his rejection stung and she reacted to it. "Are you in here, you little furball?"

  She waited and got no answer. Squinting to see now that the bedroom light didn't shine behind her, she crept through the living room. As she passed one of the decorative arches, she saw a long kitchen and dining area. She ignored it, going instead to the arch with a door. Thinking it led outside, she pushed it open. Instead she found a large bathroom. A rectangular mosaic tub took up the far wall with many waterspouts coming from the sides. Next to it was perhaps the biggest water shower she'd ever seen. Well, she'd never actually seen one, but the Agency did have pictures. Through the textured glass, she detected a bench seat.

  "Hum," Ulyssa mused with an irritated glance around the room. "Maybe I'm looking too high. I'm sure there has to be a little cat door around here somewhere."

  * * * *

  Kirill watched the door to his bedroom open. He'd been sitting in the dark, trying to relieve the stress headache that built behind his eyes for the last week. The pain started at the base of his skull and radiated up to his temples until he could hardly see straight.

  A heavy responsibility had been thrust on his shoulders, a responsibility he really hadn't prepared himself for--the welfare of the Var people. King Attor had not left him in a good position. He'd rallied the people to the brink of war, convinced them that the Draig were their enemy, and even went so far as to attack the Draig royal family.

  Kirill would see peace in the land. However, he knew the facts didn't bode well for it. The Draig had a long list of grievances against King Attor and the Var kingdom.

  Before his death, Attor had ordered an attack on one of the four Draig Princes, all of which ended horribly for the Var. Prince Yusef was stabbed in the back, a most cowardly embarrassment for the Var guard who did it. If he hadn't been executed in the Draig prisons, he would've been ostracized from the Var community. Luckily, Prince Yusef survived or else they'd already be at battle.

  Attor had also arranged for the kidn
apping of Yusef's new bride. Princess Olena had been rescued or else that too would've led to war. The old King had tried to poison Princess Morrigan, the future Queen, on two separate occasions. She too lived. And those were only the offenses that Kirill knew about in the few weeks before Attor's death. He could just imagine what he didn't know.

  Kirill sighed, feeling very tired. He'd known since birth that the day would come when he'd be expected to step up and lead the Var as their new King. He just hadn't expected it to be for another hundred or so years. His father had been a hard man, who he'd foolishly come to look at as invincible.

  "Here kitty, kitty, kitty." His lovely houseguest's whisper drew his complete attention from his heavy thoughts.

  Ulyssa bent over like she expected him to answer to the insulting call. He dropped his fingers from his temple into his lap and a quizzical smile came to his lips. As he watched her, he wasn't sure if he was angered or amused by her words.

  "Are you in here, you little furball?" she said, a little louder.

  She wore his clothes. Never had the outfit looked sexier. His jaw tightened in masculine interest, as he unabashedly looked her over. All too well did he remember the softness of her body against his and the gentle, offering pleasure of her sweet lips. She'd made soft whimpering noises when he touched her--yielding, purring sounds in the back of her throat. Even with the aid of nef, he was surprised by how easily and confidently she melted into him. The Var were wild, passionate people and were drawn to the same qualities in others. He suspected she'd be an untamed lover.

  Too bad she'd belonged to his father first. In his mind, that made her completely untouchable--though none would dare question his claim if he were to bring her to his bed. Technically, by Var law, she belonged to him until he chose to release her. For an insane moment, he thought about keeping her as a lover. He knew he wouldn't, but the thought was entertaining.

  Kirill's grin deepened. Ulyssa strode across his home to the bathroom door with an irritated scowl. It was obvious she didn't see him in the darkened corner, watching her. He detected her engaging smell from across the room--the smell of a woman's desire. It stirred his blood, making his limbs heavy with desire. And, for the first time since his father's death, his headache relieved itself.

  "Hum, maybe I'm looking too high. I'm sure there has to be a little cat door here somewhere."

  His slight smile fell at her words. It was easy to detect the mocking in her.

  "Where's your little kitty door, huh?" Ulyssa whispered to herself, her blue gaze searching around in the dark.

  Kirill grimaced in further displeasure. He watched her open the door to his weapons cabinet. Her eyes rounded. She nodded in appreciation before closing the door and continuing her search for an exit.

  She stopped at a narrow window by his kitchen doorway. Her neck craned to the side, as she tried to see out over the distance. Kirill knew she looked at the forest. From under her breath, he heard her vehement whisper, "Where exactly did you little fur balls bring me? Ugh, I need to get out of this flea trap, even if I have to fight every one of you cowardly felines to do it. I've fought species twice as big and three times as frightening. A couple little kitty cats don't scare me."

  If this insolent woman wanted to play tough, oh, he'd play. Curling gracefully forward, Kirill shifted before his hands even touched the ground. He let one thick paw land silently on the floor, followed by a second. Short black fur rippled over his tanned flesh, blending him into the shadows. His clothes fell from his body and he lowered his head as he crept forward. A low sound of warning started in the back of his throat. He was livid.

  Ulyssa froze, hearing the growl behind her. She really hadn't expected anyone to be in the room or else she never would've ranted like she had. Biting her lip, her eyes automatically scanned for a weapon as she turned.

  Seeing the oversized panther stalking her, its body low against the ground as if she were its prey, she gasped. "Oh, whoa, easy there big fella. Are you one of them or are you just a pet?"

  Ulyssa had fought all kinds of alien species and yet somehow her training hadn't prepared her to face a wild animal like this one. She could see the tempered speed in the panther's streamlined body. Steeling her nerves, she looked him in the eyes and reached out the back of her hand. "Are you in there, Var ... warrior ... man? Can you hear me?"

  The animal roared, loud and long, brandishing his deadly fangs. She jolted back in surprise. His jaw snapped shut, as if he would bite her. His beastly yellow-green eyes narrowed in warning.

  Ulyssa lost all bravado as she backed into a wall. Her heart let loose, hammering in her chest. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, making her shake. Her breath came out in ragged pants. She was terrified, too frightened to scream.

  The animal crept closer. To her shame, she felt tears threaten to fill her eyes. Some agent she turned out to be! Her programming for this planet didn't include animal combat. Weren't you supposed to cower before wild animals and let them have dominance? Or was it the other way around? For the life of her, she couldn't remember. It's not like they had many wild animals left running around Earth these days. Those they did have were in locked conservatories, kept away from human interference, and left to their own devices.

  The panther roared, bringing her attention back to the trouble at hand. Ulyssa recoiled, lifting her arms to protect her chest and face as she pressed into the stone wall. A dark blue banner waved near her nose as she turned her head away. The image of a styled panther fluttered before her. She whimpered, closing her eyes. Her body tensed, bracing for the initial attack. Silence followed and she couldn't move.

  "Shhh," a gentle whisper soothed. "I didn't think you'd be so scared of me."

  Ulyssa gasped, recognizing the burr of Kirill's voice from the night before. She felt the gentle brush of warm fingers on her cheek. On instinct, her hand balled into a fist and before she'd even opened her eyes, she swung for him. She didn't like being scared and the fact he'd been able to frighten her pissed her off. Her fist met with his jaw, knocking his head back on his shoulders. But, to her amazement, he didn't stumble away. His head lowered, a controlled movement, and his dark eyes pierced into her. Slowly, he flexed his jaw.

  "You bastard!" She glared at him. "How dare you try and scare me? I should tear you apart!"

  "Mmm," he smirked. Ulyssa's heart nearly fluttered out of her chest at the sultry look he gave her. He wasn't worried by her threats. Her mouth went dry. His fingers glanced over her neck, past her racing pulse. "Like you tried to tear me apart last night?"

  "I-I," she stuttered, at a sudden loss. Had she attacked him last night? Fighting the haze of memory, she tried to recall. His eyes drifted to her mouth. She could feel his heat pouring over her, soaking into her skin.

  "You tried to offer yourself to me and, when I refused, you threatened my life."

  Licking her lips, Ulyssa's gaze followed his lead and moved down over his body. To her surprise, she discovered his chest was bare. Hard muscles moved beneath his skin, rippling over the surface in male perfection. The heady scent of man came over her, like an intoxicating perfume that left her panting. Her gaze moved over his strong arms, wondering how they would feel holding her. Not an ounce of fat marred the look of him.

  Then, very slowly, his words sunk in. He'd refused her! It was like a slap in the face. Her eyes rounded in horror.

  "You're fortunate, briallen," he murmured. "If it had been tonight, you'd have died for the offense."

  Kirill stepped back from her and turned. Ulyssa watched him walk away. Her eyes rounded in surprise to see that he was completely naked. A wave of fiery longing swept through her at the sight. She couldn't help it. In a twisted way, his rejection only made her want him more. She loved a challenge--and this man was defiantly the most handsome challenge she'd seen in a long time.

  Luxurious waves of black hair flowed over his back and shoulders, drawing her eye down the hard muscles surrounding his spine to his narrow hips. His taut buttocks moved with
power and grace. She wanted to touch it, grab it, control it--control him. Too bad she really didn't like him. But, then again, when did you have to like the person to sleep with them? It's not like she wanted to stand around making small talk first. It's not like she wanted to get to know him at all. Handsome men never had anything interesting to say.

  Ulyssa licked her lips in anticipation. She smiled, not even hesitating before following him to the bedroom. He was cute. Her shots were up to date. If he tried to talk, she'd just have to gag him to shut him up, or at least put his mouth to a better use. Giving a little practice wiggle of her hips, she thought, I'm not drunk now. Let's just see him try and refuse me again!

  Chapter Three

  Kirill had locked her out. Ulyssa paused and tried the handle a second time. Yeah, he'd definitely locked her out of his bedroom. Her cheeks flamed. Placing her hands on her hips, she tapped her foot in anger. Well, if he was going to be a prude there wasn't a damned thing she could do about it. Stupid fool was missing out on the best sex he'd ever be offered.

  Pounding on the door, she yelled, "Hey, pussy cat! Mind telling me how to get out of here?"

  To her surprise, the door opened. He was fully dressed, as he had been the night before, in seductively tight black. She pulled away from the door to let him pass.

  "Don't tempt me to shift, woman. I won't be so kind as to turn back next time." Kirill's voice was hard. He brushed past her to the living room, leaning over to pick up his clothes from the floor. Under his breath she heard him mumble something about ripping out her bothersome throat to shut her up. She thought it better not to ask him to clarify the entire statement.

  "Sorry," she answered, rolling her eyes at his back and making a face. Going beside the bathroom he pushed a tile. When an opening appeared in the wall, he tossed the clothes inside and walked to the kitchen. The hole closed behind him.

 

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