The Savage King

by Michelle M. Pillow

  He couldn’t blame her for fearing his panther form. He’d done everything he could to frighten her. But, when he saw her brave façade crumble and her body tremble in the most feminine way, he couldn’t continue. He wanted, no needed, to give her comfort. The realization made him pause. Her nearness quickened him and stirred his blood. If he was honest with himself, his body needed her, desired her more than he had desired any other woman in a very long time.

  Needed? He needed no one. He couldn’t. He was the future king. Had not his father said that all kings must stand alone, beholden to none?

  “To be ruled by a woman is to be ruled by weakness.” He could hear his father’s gruff voice clearly, as those words renewed themselves in his head.

  “I don’t need her. I need release,” he growled low under his breath, moving to stalk the hallways once more. “She’s but a stranger. She’s not special. Any woman will do, so long as her thighs spread and her body is soft. I don’t need anybody.”

  Kirill turned, glancing once more over his shoulder.

  “A king cannot need anyone.”

  7

  Ulyssa was again lost in the maze-like halls of the palace. It was strange, but during an hour of wandering, she’d only come across one guard, and he’d been easy to avoid. She shook her head. Security in the palace did seem to be lacking that was for sure. If she were in charge of security she’d post...

  Wait. What was she thinking? She wanted nothing to do with this heathenish place.

  She frowned, looking down the endless halls with a sense of boredom, trying to remember if she’d seen a particular pattern before in the wall. The mosaic tiles started to look alike, and she developed a migraine from concentrating on them, as she tried to memorize their unique designs. It did no good. She was most definitely lost, not that she’d been found in the beginning.

  Ulyssa’s thoughts turned to the future king of the Var. She should have known he was royalty. His very barbaric, powerful nature radiated off his graceful form. He was regal and strong. There was a keen intelligence to his gaze, a sturdy caution, a quiet thoughtfulness. Ulyssa was trained in how to read people. Shifters were no different than humans, once you studied their habits. Everything she needed to know about her enemies was in their actions and expressions.

  The fact that he’d not shown anger at her words against his father spoke volumes. This was a man who would bide his time, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to strike. A hot-blooded man would’ve had her killed for such slander, or at least would’ve beaten her within a centimeter of her life. Not Prince Kirill. He was cool, calm. He was a force to be wary of, and he was definitely the perfect man to lead the primitive Var nation. She was glad she wasn’t going to be around long enough to see his rule.

  Ulyssa stopped paying attention to where she was going, as a small smile came to her face. Prince Kirill was one of the most handsome creatures she’d seen in a long time, and she had seen many. Her body heated and melted just thinking about the way he moved. Her arms ached to touch him. She’d just bet he was graceful in bed. Such a pity she wasn’t going to find out.

  Almost as badly as she wanted to test his skill as a lover, she wanted to test his skill as a fighter. With those animal reflexes, she just bet he’d be a worthy combatant, even without shifting. Oh, and his weapons! She’d nearly swooned in excitement to see them. Her fingers still itched, wanting to draw down the many swords from the weapons cabinet. She knew a few defensive moves with a blade, but she really wanted to learn more. There never seemed to be time at the Agency for archaic weapon training. Almost all species she dealt with used a type of gun. Her unit didn’t handle the ones that didn’t.

  “Halt!”

  Ulyssa blinked at the command, surprised but not afraid. She turned to see a large Var warrior standing before her. The man was half-shifted, his features not all cat and not quite human. He wore the Medieval-like tunic of a guard. A light tiger striped fur covered his face and neck with orange and black, mimicked by the fur on his hands. His voice was a gravelly pitch as if garbled by the beginnings of a roar.

  Ulyssa grinned, looking forward to a little sport. A brow rose artfully on her features. There was only one of them, and she so wanted to test her abilities against a Var in a fair fight. “Yes?”

  “You’re not to be walking the halls,” the tiger man said.

  Ulyssa tried to hide her smirk. “Oh? And why’s that?”

  “Because it is forbidden the night of the coronation,” another voice answered.

  The second Var was behind her. Ulyssa froze. She hadn’t heard his approach. There was no growl to his tone, only a flat dominance. The blackness in the voice gave her chills. Slowly, she turned. Before her was a large warrior, perhaps the largest Var she’d seen yet. She grimaced. He would not be so easy to beat. Even without his impressive build, she detected a quality to him that screamed militant warrior.

  “I-I have permission,” Ulyssa answered weakly. She hated herself for stuttering.

  “Permission?” the large warrior repeated, giving nothing away from his overly serious face. Then, turning to the tiger man, he ordered, “On your way, Navid.”

  “Yes, Commander Falke,” the tiger, Navid, answered.

  Ulyssa didn’t bother to watch the guard obey. He’d become the lesser of her worries.

  Falke turned back to her and again prompted, “Permission?”

  “Yes,” Ulyssa lied, lifting her jaw. “From Prince Kirill.”

  Falke’s brow rose, urging her silently to continue.

  “He has chosen me for his woman,” she said, watching the man’s face carefully. “I spent last night in his room. So I demand that you let me be on my way before you incur the future king’s wrath.”

  “Navid, come back here.” Falke leaned forward to sniff her. His eyes dipped over her attire. At great length, he nodded. “My brother has chosen her as his woman. Take her and have her prepared for him, and then deliver her to Prince Kirill’s chambers.”

  He was Kirill’s brother? Ulyssa thought with a brief wave of panic. Oh, hell, I’ve really done it now! Great going, Ulyssa!

  “That won’t be necessary,” Ulyssa began weakly, swallowing down her nerves. She glanced over her shoulder at Navid. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, as he waited for her to comply with Prince Falke’s order. Turning back to the Commander, she shook her head. “I...”

  Ulyssa did the only thing she could think of. She took off running. Passing the smaller Navid, she hooked him across his throat with her outstretched arm. The man fell back. With lightning speed, Falke was on her, pouncing from behind and tackling her to the ground. Her face slammed into the stone floor, jarring her nearly senseless at the impact. A light moan escaped her lips.

  “If my brother wants you, he will have you. You wear his clothing, and you have his smell,” Falke said, unaffected by her escape attempt. She tried to struggle at his words, but his one hand held her pinned to the floor. An unforgiving knee pressed into her lower back, stifling her breath. She gasped just to stay conscious. “On your way, Navid. I’ll handle her. She’d better speak the truth for, if she lies, she’ll bear the new king’s wrath.”

  Navid bowed and left, glaring at her as he did so. Ulyssa knew he didn’t take kindly to being out-maneuvered by a woman in front of his boss. She didn’t care. It was his fault for thinking she’d be a complying female who’d follow orders.

  Falke hauled her up from the ground with a swift leap into the air. Ulyssa stumbled while he landed effortlessly on his feet. Without another word, the muscular prince tossed her over his shoulder and sprinted down the hall. It was all she could do to hold on.

  8

  King Kirill’s coronation was short, just like all of the Var ceremonies. They found no reason to draw out the legalities of an event and turned right to the celebration. As the preost spoke, his eyes had scanned over the crowd. Most persons within the royal palace were present and made to swear allegiance to the new king. The banquet hall wa
s packed full, but Ulyssa wasn’t there. He wondered why he felt disappointed by her absence. He wondered why he thought of her at all.

  The banquet hall was a splendid room with a high domed ceiling of glass that let in the diffused light of the three suns. Music poured from stringed instruments, playing the traditional songs of his people. Flowers swept over the walls in long garlands, their fragrance sweetening the hall.

  Dancers from King Attor’s harem weaved about the tables, entertaining the men with their seductive movement. Silk and gauze clung to their bodies, flowing like ocean waves from their tight flesh. Kirill watched their movements in distraction.

  He was now responsible for every soul in the hall before him, and many more souls beyond the palace walls in the Var city, and more still beyond that. It was a heavy burden. From that moment on, every Var life was dependent on him. Every mouth that needed to be fed would be his to feed. Every wrongful death would be his to avenge. Every quarrel, no matter how small, would be his to decide. It was a challenging responsibility, but one he must bear alone.

  Kirill’s stomach knotted to think about it. There would be no one to shoulder the burden of his centuries of reign. His brothers would help, but they could never understand. He only wished he’d been more prepared for his father’s death, but none had expected the indestructible old king to fall.

  Looking around the hall, Kirill was glad that most of his father’s women had chosen mates. Once a decision was made, the Var found no reason to wait. They’d be leaving the palace that night after a quick mass marriage ceremony.

  Kirill’s attention was caught by one of the guards, who came to bow before him. Behind the man was a line of attractive women. Kirill hid his slight smile. A woman to warm his bed and temper the fire in his loins was just what he needed to relax and momentarily forget his burden. Regally, he nodded at the guard, who then motioned the women forward. One by one, the lovely creatures bowed before him. First, a redhead with bright green eyes caught his notice, followed by a mystical temptress with hair as dark as deep space. Her gaze sparkled with mischief.

  Kirill debated between the two, eyeing their displayed breasts and the curve of their hips. When choosing a lover, he knew he didn’t have to look beyond those few simple things. For a moment, he considered taking both. With the stress he’d been under lately, he wasn’t sure he could properly pleasure both of them at once. In the end, he chose the dark temptress.

  With a lift of his hand, he motioned her forward. The woman smiled, coming closer to him. Without hesitation, Kirill asked, “You haven’t been with the late king?”

  “No, my lord,” the woman answered meekly.

  Kirill nodded, pleased with her sultry voice. She would do well to fulfill his body’s needs. “You wish to be with me in my bed?”

  “Yes, my king.” There was no hesitation in her answer. Her lips stayed parted, and she shot him a look of pure invitation.

  “Very well. The rest may go,” Kirill said.

  The women bowed, their disappointment evident. It was a great honor to be chosen as the king’s lover and if a woman could please him enough to be made a mistress, well, that position was almost as grand as being a wife. However, all knew that the Var kings did not usually share their power with a queen.

  “Your name?” Kirill asked the woman.

  “Linzi, my lord,” she murmured. Her eyes dipped boldly over his form.

  Kirill saw her attraction to him, an attraction she didn’t try to hide. Instantly, another set of eyes flashed in his mind, eyes of entrancing dark blue. He scanned the hall, looking for red-blonde hair, hair that would stand out in a crowd. His body lurched, wanting Ulyssa. Her scent was still in his head. Remembering the sound of her voice drummed fire into his veins. Her allure to him was potent, more potent than any other had been.

  “My lord?” Linzi asked, looking over her shoulder at the crowd to see what he stared at.

  Kirill’s attention focused once more at the sound of her voice. He sighed, hiding his disappointment in not seeing Ulyssa. She was probably long gone by now. It was just as well. He didn’t need the kind of distraction a woman could become, especially right now as he fitted himself in the role of a king.

  Slowly, he stood from the throne chair that commanded the hall. The milling crowd parted to let him through, eyes turned to him in respect. The exotic dancers spun out of his way and bowed low as he moved past. Linzi followed meekly behind him without being commanded.

  Once they were out of the hall, Kirill turned and gave the woman a smile. He held out his arm for her to take. She did so without hesitation. There was no shyness in her as she looked at him. She knew well what he wanted from her. There was no modesty in sexual things for the Var. Sex was as natural as breathing. Although Linzi was not Var by blood, she, like so many others, had adopted the Var ways as her own.

  Gently, the king said, “Come, Linzi. Let us go to bed.”

  9

  Ulyssa’s nostrils flared in anger as she struggled against her bonds. That oaf Falke had tied her to Kirill’s bed like some sort of coronation present. Her wrists were bound over her head, and her legs were loosely tied to the bottom posts, conveniently keeping them open. She’d actually been surprised when he didn’t tie a big, red bow over her breasts. The nerves of these men, thinking they could just do as they pleased with a woman wherever and however they wanted!

  Ulyssa wasn’t sure what made her angrier, the fact that she was tied to the bed, or the fact that Falke made her put on a dress. She grimaced looking down at the skimpy ensemble. With only two pieces of transparent material, the black and silver dress had a short front piece and a longer back piece, held together by side cross straps that ran over her naked hip and sides, finally to loop over one shoulder. With a pull of either strap, the dress would come entirely off. Ulyssa knew it was probably the exact function the Var had in mind when they designed the awful thing.

  Hearing a noise, Ulyssa froze. A door closed, and a small sound came from the other side of the bedroom door. Tensing, she glared toward the sound, pulling vigorously at her restraints in a renewed effort to be free. There was a crash followed by a very feminine giggle. Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open, thrown with a firm push, banging loudly as it hit the wall. The woman giggled again, a truly nauseating sound.

  Kirill’s back was to her. A metal crown was on his dark head. Animalistic groans of pleasure came from him as he kissed the dark woman in his arms. Ulyssa watched in stunned, frustrated silence, as Kirill’s hands ran over his lover’s body. His palms cupped her breasts, the thumb rubbing in slow circles over her nipple. The woman kept laughing until it was all Ulyssa could hear in her numb brain. It annoyed the hell out of her.

  A low sound grew in the back of Kirill’s throat to answer the irritating laugh, bringing Ulyssa from her trance. The rumbling sent shivers over her spine. A heated, unreasonable jealousy lit like fire in her blood as she watched them together, especially since she’d nearly burned for him since their first meeting. Without thinking, she growled, “If you want to use the bed, then you’d best help me get off it first.”

  Where did that come from? Ulyssa was shocked by her outburst. She watched as Kirill stopped in mid-kiss. His lips drew back from the woman’s, and his hand fell from her breast to his side. He turned confused eyes to look at her. Ulyssa wiggled her fingers at him in greeting, drawing attention to her wrists above her head. She pressed her lips together, giving him a mockingly wry smile.

  “You?” the stunned woman by his side began. Her wide eyes roamed over Ulyssa. Suddenly, she bowed low, “Forgive me, my lady. I did not ask for an introduction. I am Linzi. I didn’t know the king already had a first. I didn’t know to seek your permission.”

  Kirill frowned and opened his mouth to speak. Linzi’s words stopped him.

  “I’m sorry for tempting you, my lord. I’ll spend the required thirty days in exile from you. If you wish to have me then, you know where to find me.” Linzi bowed and rushed from the room.
>
  Kirill didn’t even try to stop her from going. A rueful expression crossed his features and his heated gaze turned to the bed. Seeing her, a frown creased between his brown-black eyes. Ulyssa met his stare dead on. The challenge between them was once more renewed.

  “Cute little girlfriend you have there,” Ulyssa said dryly, “nice and submissive. I’m curious, does she have to ask permission before getting on her knees and give you a blow—”

  “What are you doing here, Lyssa?” Kirill asked, crossing his arms. He had no qualms about checking out her bound form on his bed. Interest lit in his expression, as he unabashedly studied her tantalizing position.

  “Uh, in case you’re blind, I really don’t have a choice but to be here at the moment. Your barbarian of a brother, Falke, tied me here.” Ulyssa again wiggled her fingers for dramatic effect, but his eyes weren’t on her hands. She tried to draw her legs together, but it did no good. If he were to lean over just a little further, he’d see right up her skirt. Moisture pooled between her thighs, making her more than ready.

  “And why would he have done that?” Kirill asked, coming to stand beside the bed. A slow, delicious smile curled his lips. A soft light shone from the closet, giving a pleasing dimness to his bedroom, casting their skin in a romantic softness that seemed out of place in their battle of the wills.

  “I don’t know,” she lied. Her voice dipped, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at him.

  “Hmm.” Kirill studied her a moment longer before shrugging. “Suit yourself. I know my brother wouldn’t have tied you there without cause. Until you’re ready to speak the truth, I’ll be forced to leave you where you are.”

  Kirill made a move to leave. Ulyssa tensed.

  “Fine,” she yelled after him as his hand touched the door. “I was trying to escape this damned palace, which I’m sure you’re well aware, is one giant maze. Some guard stopped me, then your brother showed up out of nowhere and…” Ulyssa sighed, rolling her eyes in her head. “And I might have told him you chose me to be your woman. Now untie me.”