Warrior Lover (Draconia Tales)

by Karilyn Bentley

  Clearly a lapse in intelligence gathering.

  “Nothing.” Enar jogged to catch up with Thoren and Keara, diligently avoiding all puddles and brown globs, until he reached his best friend.

  A sharp stab of longing surged through him as he watched Thoren walk beside Keara. He wanted what Thoren had. Not a Draconi or a Halfling, but a woman who would be with him forever. Like the pale-skinned woman from the square. The one he had locked gazes with until everything else fell away, the roar of the crowd, Thoren’s rescue of Keara, the stink of the town.

  Instead of being thirty feet apart, it seemed like they stood inches from each other, lost in their own world. No other woman had ever caught his attention to the exclusion of everything else and he wanted nothing more than to go on his own personal seek-and-find mission. To find his woman. To claim her. To begin the journey down the road of forever.

  Clearly the foul stench of this town had rotted his brain.

  He was a Watcher, a guardian of the Draconi. Watchers did not form bonds with women, they claimed them as their child-bearers, as an outlet for their lust.

  His friendship with Thoren and the time they spent together meant his thoughts formed a line behind Thoren’s Draconi beliefs—females were to be cherished, cared for, loved.

  He wanted the unattainable.

  Pulled out of his thinking by a stop at a gate, Enar stared at his surroundings, wondering where they were. Looked like a back alley behind a row of shops. He glanced at his boots. Whew. Clean. Praise the Goddess he missed stepping in other globs of excrement.

  Keara darted through the gate, a cry of “Jamie!” on her lips.

  Thoren exploded like lit liquor, slamming the gate against the fence in his dash through it. His friend had it bad for the Halfling. Should be interesting to watch how long it took Thoren to realize his mate had red hair.

  By the time Enar stormed through the gate, Keara held a boy in her arms, pressed tightly against her chest. The lad poked his head around her arm, glaring at them. Shoving out of her arms, he marched in front of her, hands on hips.

  “Don’t you hurt her.”

  Point for the boy. It took a lot of nerve to stand before them and speak those words. Bravery, especially in one so defenseless, was admirable.

  “Jamie! What has gotten into you? He’s our master now.” Keara pushed Jamie behind her. “I’m sorry, he’s not normally like that.”

  “He’s brave. Who is he?” Thoren asked.

  “This is Jamie. I found him, took him to the town square and claimed him as mine and since no one refuted the claim, he’s now my apprentice.” She took a deep breath, looked at the sky and then at Thoren. “He’s part of my bride price.”

  Judging by her glance upward and her held breath, she obviously lied. Not that it mattered to Thoren. His best friend seemed bent on giving the female anything she wanted. Although in this instance even Enar would give in and take the boy. One didn’t find bravery like his every day.

  The whole bride price thing confused him. Keara tried to explain it to them on their walk to her shop, but it seemed to him the fathers in this town wanted to give away their daughters and had to pay off the hapless groom. But what would he know about marriage? The only examples he’d seen were the Draconi bonded pairs, although Draconi didn’t call matings marriage. Closer to home, there was no such thing as marriage or bonding. Watchers claimed women. They definitely didn’t bond with them.

  So why did he want his own woman so badly?

  He looked past Keara to the door of her shop and his brain forgot the question.

  The exquisite woman he saw earlier in the square, the one whose gaze had locked on his, the one he had been thinking about just moments ago, stood frozen in place, eyes wide with fright or wonder. Mine, whispered through his head, as he tried to stop the impending erection from forming. No such luck.

  The brown tunic, black pants and black cloak she wore made her pale skin glow, highlighting the white hair that streamed down her back. Piercing blue eyes, the same color as his, gazed back at him from an elfin face. Besides those blue eyes, the only color in her face was in her lips. Lush red lips, parted slightly, as if she didn’t know whether to scream or not. Lush red lips that would fit well around his staff as she suckled him.

  He had known many women, lusted after more than that, and yet none of them made him feel the way this one did. What was different about her? Her coloring? That had to be it. All Watchers wanted a woman with pale skin, their ideal beauty, although none of them had gotten so lucky. None but him.

  His woman. His for the taking.

  Thoren’s words snapped Enar back to the present. No surprise his friend had just agreed to Keara’s request to take Jamie with them.

  “Is that one part of your bride price, too?” Enar pointed to the pale-skinned woman.

  Asking was the polite thing to do. Not that the answer mattered, the woman was his, but if she was included in this ridiculous bride price, it might make things easier on all involved.

  He had it on good authority that claiming a woman had a tendency to frighten her.

  “What?” Keara glared at Enar, who paid her no heed as he remained staring at his soon-to-be woman. “No, she’s my friend, Lily.”

  “I see.” Goddess’s teeth. That made it harder.

  And Thoren’s glare wasn’t helping any, either.

  “What in the Goddess’s name do you think you’re doing?” Thoren threw his hand out, smacking Enar’s chest. “We’re on a mission, fool. You can’t lay claim to her.”

  “She’s mine. I claim her. You don’t have the right to tell me who I can and cannot claim. And she’s mine. Look at her. Exquisite.”

  Thoren’s eyes narrowed, one finger pointing at Enar’s chest. “What are you going to do with her? We still have to find the Halfling boy and we already have a female and a boy. This is becoming a traveling circus, not a reconnaissance mission. We. Do. Not. Need. Another female!”

  “Forget you. She’s mine.” Enar turned his attention to Lily, who still stood hand on the door, only now Keara stood beside her. “Woman of the exquisite coloring.”

  Both females jumped, what little color present in his woman’s face bleeding out. He strode across the yard until he stood in front of them. Grabbing Lily’s arm, he pulled the claiming necklace from a pouch hanging off his belt.

  “Lily of the exquisite coloring, I claim you for my woman.” With a quick flick of his wrist, the strand of beads fell around her neck, the ends snapping closed.

  Magic streamed through the beads, holding the necklace in place until his death, which he had no plans of meeting anytime soon. The magic also kept the woman from running off like she often wanted to do after being claimed by a Watcher. Once he returned Lily to his village, she would remain there, since the magic in the necklace kept her from walking past the village gates. He didn’t know how far she could wander from him before then so he needed to keep her close.

  Gathering her stiff and wide-eyed body into his arms, he gazed into her eyes and felt something shift inside him.

  His.

  He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face.

  Chapter 2

  Lily stared into blue eyes the color of her own and felt the same tie holding her immobile in the square bind her to the walking mountain. Goddess help her, but she liked the feel of his arms around her, liked feeling his hardened muscles press against her. Liked how his arms encircled her, trapped her, claimed her as his.

  She was clearly losing her mind.

  He was her captor. Her potential torturer. A man who could do anything to her and get away with it.

  So why did being in his arms make her feel so at peace?

  Next up on her to-do list: find her lost mind.

  “Leave her alone!” Keara screeched, breaking Lily from her trance, as she pulled with no effect on the giant’s arm.

  “What? You do what with me?” Lily shivered, the warmth from his arms leaving her trembling.
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  “Claim you. Like Keara did with the lad.”

  “But...but you can’t do that anyplace but the town square,” Lily said. Not that it mattered. She was his no matter where they were.

  “No, I just did it. With this necklace. You belong to me. It cannot be removed. It cannot be broken until I die. And I don’t plan to do that anytime soon. Therefore, you are mine. But do not fear. I won’t be a hard master to please. I will even allow you to bring some of your things with you.” His mouth curved into a grin.

  Good thing he held her. Her knees went all wobbly at the sight of his smile. Or maybe the knee-wobbles were due to the sudden stinging in her neck.

  “Ouch. What—” Lily scratched at her neck. What was that sharp pain? Spots appeared at the edge of her vision, blurring her sight, panicking her. She felt Mountain Man’s arms tighten, supporting her, and the panic receded, giving way to blackness.

  Someplace in the darkness voices spoke, faded as if from behind a veil of fog. Lily focused on the sounds, listening to the cadence of male voices, the rise and fall of words that didn’t make sense.

  Magic and Halflings. As if those things existed. As she concentrated on the voices, she felt arms clasping her against warmth and hardness. Where was she?

  And then it came back. The last moments of her life. The moments before the Mountain Man had charged in and taken her for his own. He must be the one who held her, who stroked her arm, played with her hair. Played with her hair?

  Lily’s eyes flew open, only to look into eyes the same color as the town’s rivers after the snows melted. Her brain noted she was in Mountain Man’s lap, his arms around her, sitting at Keara’s kitchen table, Keara’s new husband sitting across from them. The invisible tie that bound the two of them together tensed and the kitchen faded, leaving only her giant captor in her awareness. His eyes flared, crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

  “You’re awake.”

  ****

  Her eyes fixed on his and for a moment Enar forgot where he sat. Didn’t even know what words he spoke. Hopefully they made more sense to her ears than they did to his.

  “Who are you?” The pitch of her voice remained high, reminding him of a trapped animal.

  It meant she remained scared. Of him. She wasn’t the first person to feel that way, but for once he didn’t like it. She belonged to him and it was his duty to ensure she never feared anything again.

  What in the name of the gods was he thinking? Since when did a Watcher care if his woman feared him? Most Watchers induced fear in their women. What was wrong with him?

  Her gaze remained locked on his, waiting for his response. What had she asked? Oh, yes. Name.

  “I’m Enar.” He nodded in Thoren’s direction. “He’s Thoren. You’re Lily, right?”

  She swallowed. “Yes.” The low tone of her voice resonated in his blood, which of course pooled lower.

  He shifted, to no avail.

  Thoren cleared his throat. “Since Keara’s upstairs packing, why don’t you take Lily to gather her things? And while you’re at it, stop by the inn and retrieve our bags and horses.”

  Enar nodded. Unlike Thoren’s last suggestion—don’t claim the woman—this one Enar agreed with. There was something odd about the man in the square who tried to take Keara. Something Enar didn’t like, but couldn’t identify, and it had nothing to do with the man treating a Draconi female the way he had. Some strange look in his eye, as if his store was open but someone else manned it. As a Watcher, there wasn’t much that scared him, but he had to admit the quicker they left this town, the better.

  And Thoren’s suggestion gave him some much needed alone time with his woman.

  Enar stood, placing Lily’s feet onto the floor, grabbing her around the waist when she swayed. Claiming necklaces left the woman unsteady for a couple of hours until her body adapted to it. The magic woven into its stones prevented the woman from leaving the Watcher who claimed her, outside of his death. And it would be a dark day in Draconia before he willingly gave up this woman.

  His hands pressed against a sword belt as he held her steady. A sword belt? Hanging at the wrong angle, might he add.

  “Give me the rapier.” What was his woman doing carrying around a sword? Especially since she clearly didn’t know how to use it.

  Her eyes widened. “Why?”

  “Woman, surely you don’t expect to draw the sword with it hanging at that angle?”

  She glanced down at the sheath where it hung against her thigh. Grasping the handle, she tried to draw the rapier out, but he caught her hand before she hurt herself.

  “Unbuckle it and hand it over. I’ll protect you.”

  She narrowed her eyes, took a deep breath and did as he asked. Slapping the sheathed sword against his outstretched palm, she turned and marched out the door. He watched the sway of her hips as he buckled the belt around his waist.

  “Where is your home, woman?” he asked once they stood outside the shop in the alley.

  “My name’s Lily, not woman.” She crossed her arms over a chest that wasn’t as ample as he was used to and glared at him.

  Were claimed women supposed to glare? Shouldn’t they be cringing? Whenever his mother had stood up to his father the crazy old bastard had hit her. Should he do the same? He couldn’t imagine putting his hand to this exquisite woman though, she’d snap in two. And hate him.

  For some strange reason he wanted her to like him.

  As if that would happen. Since when did claimed women like their Watchers?

  “Fine. Lily-not-woman. Where is your home?”

  Her eyes narrowed, her little tongue licking over her lips. He thought of a dozen places that tongue could lick on him before she spoke.

  “My quarters are above my shop. Not too far from here.”

  “Lead the way then.” Enar gestured toward the alley entrance.

  She started off down the alley, pulling the hood of her cloak up, covering her hair. Why would she cover such wonderful hair? He almost pulled the hood back, but became fixated on the sway of her hips beneath her trousers. Oh yes, she’d feel good beneath him. It had been awhile since he’d tumbled a woman and this one was taking him to her home. Where there was bound to be a bed. He smiled.

  Lily chose that moment to turn around. As if checking to make sure he hadn’t left her. Maybe she felt all the lust pouring off him because her eyebrows shot up while a nice rose color suffused her face.

  He winked and then smiled so wide his cheeks hurt.

  Her mouth opened and closed as she drew in a breath through her nose. He thought she might run, but instead she stood her ground.

  “Why did you come to River’s Run and why did you give me this necklace?”

  Was he really going to answer? And it appeared like the answer was a resounding yes. As if operating on their own volition, his lips started moving, attempting a clarification of his actions.

  “Thoren and I were sent here to find Halflings.”

  “Halflings?”

  “Half Draconi, half human.”

  “Draconi?”

  Maybe his woman was a bit dense, seeing how she repeated everything back to him.

  “Draconi are sorcerers. Lately the males have been mating with humans and the resulting offspring are Halflings. Our job is to track down the Halflings and return them to Draconia.”

  Technically his job was a reconnaissance specialist, one who went into the lands surrounding Draconia to discover threats to the Draconi. Lately, though, those fact-finding missions had turned into find-the-Halfling adventures. The word, adventures, being used liberally in this case.

  Boring.

  He’d rather have a good fight than be a nanny, but as Thoren’s guardian, the one Watcher assigned to him, he went where his friend did and Thoren liked serving the Council.

  For whatever reason.

  “Do their fathers hire you to return them?”

  “No. The Council requires we return them. The fathers don’t realize they
’ve fathered children.” Which is why he’d always used protection. The last thing he wanted was to discover he had an unknown child. He refused to abandon a child to a life of not knowing their father.

  “How can they not realize they have a child?”

  He stared at her. Was she truly so innocent she didn’t know the answer? “Woman, we need to get moving. Where’s your store?”

  “This way. So why don’t the men know they have a child?”

  “Sometimes it just happens. How far to your store?”

  Her brows snapped down over her eyes, a look of this-isn’t-over-yet crossing her face. With a humph she turned and hurried through the streets like a mouse with a cat on its tail, avoiding the crowds that surged around her.

  Ah, his exquisite woman possessed a bit of a temper. A fact he needed to remember since his gut told him her questions had only just begun.

  In the blink of an eye, some idiot jumped out of the crowd and pushed his woman against the stone wall lining the street.

  “Look, here’s the other witch! Let’s—”

  One minute the man held Lily against the wall, and the next thing Enar knew, his dirk pressed against the man’s throat. It happened so fast, he couldn’t remember moving, but the lack of the memory didn’t bother him nearly as much as the idiot’s hand on Lily.

  “She. Belongs. To me. Understand?”

  The man squeaked as the tip of the dirk pressed deeper into his neck, causing a drop of blood to spill. Through his shirt, Enar felt the vibrations of his broadsword, Blood Seeker, as it became aware of the scent of blood. What a shame the streets were too narrow for him to pull the sword. It was thirsty and he was itching for a fight.

  Unfortunately, the man he held wasn’t a worthy opponent. Too much trembling. And if Enar’s nose smelled right, the bastard had soiled his trousers.

  Lily shook, crossing her arms over her chest as if to hold back the tremors that cascaded through her body. A crowd gathered around, and despite his wanting to spill more of the man’s blood, Enar decided to settle with the man’s trousers-soiling routine as enough punishment.