by Linda Mooney
“Wait a minute! You belt your sword on your right side? Damn! Why hadn’t I noticed it before now?”
“Your point, Renken?”
“You’re left-handed! Yet you fought me with your right!” The man clenched his teeth. “That’s why you made all those awkward moves. I demand a rematch, D’Jacques. A fair one, with equal standing.”
Yulen grinned. “You’ll get it, Renken. Just not today. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He left Renken staring after him as he jogged toward the compound wall. After a moment, the man realized he still gripped his own wooden sword and angrily threw it on the ground before going back to the circle to retrieve his shirt and weapons belt.
Yulen had almost reached the compound wall when he caught sight of Mastin and Paxton running to intercept him. He stopped to catch his breath and waited for the men to catch up.
“Stand down, you two. There’s no emergency,” he tried to assure them, seeing the worried looks on their faces.
“I saw Atty running for the compound,” Paxton said.
“Yes, but this is a personal matter,” Yulen told them. Without waiting for their reply, he turned and hurried through the sentry door.
*
Atty raced straight for the clinic. By the time she got to the back side of the main lodge, she was surprised to find herself out of breath. That meant she was also out of shape. She stopped to gasp for air, angry at her weakness. If having a baby was going to take this much out of her, she needed to get her strength back as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t do for a hunter of her caliber to be seen this weak. Atty frowned. She hadn’t been out on a hunt since they’d returned from West Crestin. It would seem she was long overdue.
She hurried into the clinic, ignoring the inquisitive looks from the two people waiting in the outer room and entered the back examination area. “Liam?”
“Atty?” The physician came out from one of the back rooms. His expert eyes immediately scanned her for some sign of injury. “Atty, what’s wrong?”
“I want you to check me out,” she blurted.
“What?”
“Check me out. Now,” she insisted.
Liam chewed over her request, then pointed toward an empty room. Atty hurried inside. By the time he closed the door, she was already seated on the examination table and had started unlacing her boots to remove them.
“Whoa, bluebell, hold on. Now, tell me what’s going on. Did you hurt yourself?”
To his astonishment, she raised a tear-stained face. “Can you check me out now? Instead of next week? Please?”
“Check you out?” Liam repeated again, when the look on his face revealed it suddenly all becoming very clear to him. “How do you feel?”
“Damn it, why is everyone asking me how I feel? I feel fine! I feel good! I feel just peachy!” She raised a shaky hand to her face and wiped away the tears. Suddenly her shoulders slumped as she shook her head. “No. That’s not true. I feel miserable, all right?” Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, blowing at a stray lock of hair that had flipped into her eyes. The look she gave him bespoke her misery.
“Miserable physically? Or emotionally?” A warm hand reached out and brushed the dark blue lock out of her face. He tried to hide the smile that threatened to break out over his face.
She gave a halfhearted shrug. “Both.”
“What happened, Atty?”
Blue-gray eyes swung up to meet his. “Yulen kissed me good morning. And…and it was like this giant forest fire was burning me alive inside. We…he and I…” She bit her trembling lower lip. “Is it too soon, Liam? I need to know.”
“Have you had your flow yet?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
Liam nodded. “Well, then, it sounds to me like your body is back on track.”
Atty stared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Unable to hide his happiness any longer, he chuckled. “I don’t need to check you out, Atty. Thanks to your Mutah metabolism, the stitches in your abdomen have long healed. Just take it easy at first, and don’t—”
*
He started to say more, but she was off the examination table and out the door before he could finish. A broad grin creased his face as he left the room and headed for his own apartments at the back of the office. The patients up front could wait a little while longer. He needed to let Madigan know that Yulen and Atty were about to conquer their last obstacle.
Life had finally come full circle.
Chapter Four
Passion
Atty wasn’t at their lodge. Neither was she at the main lodge. Questioning a couple of soldiers yielded no clue as to where she’d gone, although Yulen would swear she was still within the compound.
Paxton had seen Tory with Mattox over at the soldiers’ barracks where Fortune was visiting with some of the men, but none of the troopers he questioned knew where she was at the moment.
Yulen thanked them, perturbed but not alarmed. If his wife needed him or his help, she would let him know. No, he shook his head. Her departure from the practice field probably had to do with something that happened in the compound and it needed her attention. Like a scuffle between neighbors or some-such incident that called for her intervention, now that she’d taken over the informal duties of running the compound’s interior.
Turning around, Yulen headed back for his own lodge. The swordplay had left him hot and sweaty from the humidity and heat. It would soon be time to eat. A nice cool bath and a fresh change of clothes would feel wonderful.
Walking through the front door, he was surprised to hear a low voice order him, “Lock the door.”
He paused, finally obeying by lowering the bar. And waited. The interior was dark except for whatever sunlight was coming through the large multi-paned window upstairs, and a faint flickering from the hearth in the living area. “Where are you?”
To his astonishment, one of the chairs by the fireplace moved slightly as Atty rose to her feet and slowly walked around to face him. She was totally nude. Her skin was flushed, and her eyes were bright. Dark blue hair framed her face and shoulders in a silken curtain as she advanced toward him like a forest spirit.
Yulen felt his knees go weak as his eyes caressed her, reveling at the sight of her in her most breathtaking glory—her fuller breasts, her rounded hips, her long tapered legs and thighs. The thin scar visible on her lower abdomen was the only testimony of when Liam had been forced to perform the emergency C-Section on her to save her life and Mattox’s.
Atty had extinguished every lantern and light in the house except for the fireplace, and in its dim glow she was a pale wraith promising exquisite delight as she glided toward him.
As she grew nearer, he could feel his body responding to her, his erection hardening and lengthening in preparation for what he knew was to come. And when her hand reached under his shirt to weave her fingers in the soft amber-red hairs on his chest, he closed his eyes and groaned. Taking a deep breath was difficult. It was like taking in a lungful of heady sexual heat. Heat from a female in full rutting mode, ready to fulfill his every lusty dream.
“Atty, w-what are you doing?”
Instead of answering, she moved closer, lifting his shirt. Dipping her head, she ran her tongue over his male nipple, lingering over the tight bud to tease it. Her hot, wet mouth sent waves of heat under his skin, and he could feel the tightness growing in his groin. The effect was a jolt of hard desire that nearly popped the buttons off his pants. To make matters worse, he felt her hand insinuate itself inside the front of his pants until her fingertips found the root of his erection. Playfully, she teased it with her short nails, tugging and twirling the hairs.
“I’m sweaty, Atty. I need a bath.”
“You need me more,” she breathed throatily.
Unconsciously, he threaded his fingers through her hair. He reached for her, when he remembered and drew his head back. “Liam—”
“M-Mattox?”
“Is with Tory. We haven’t much time, Yul.”
She lifted the shirt over his head, and pressed herself against him. No longer able to contain the desire scorching him, Yulen lowered his head and took her open, willing mouth. He plunged his tongue into her, tasting, devouring, accepting her like a starving man before a feast.
His hands touched her, rubbed her, spreading their calloused heat over her pliant skin. Her heavy breasts filled his palms. The slightest flick of his thumbs over the swollen nipples made her jerk away in pain.
“Forgive me,” he murmured, reluctantly pulling his hands away.
“Don’t apologize. I love the way you touch me.” Her own hands had been stroking his growing length through the pants material, fingernails teasing through the slits between the buttons. As she unbuckled his weapons belt, she dropped it by the door and kicked it out of the way.
Without thinking, Yulen lifted her into his arms, surprising them both. This was the first time he had attempted to carry her since his injuries had healed. They looked at each other and laughed, and Yulen took her over by the fire where he lowered her to the rug before the hearth. Together they managed to unbutton his pants and remove his boots, peeling off the rest of his clothing in a frenzied rush.
Body met body in a soul-searing embrace. Before either of them were aware of how or when, Yulen found himself delving deep within Atty’s tight vestibule where her muscles were already rocking him into oblivion. He pulled out, then pressed back into her warmth, groaning from the sheer pleasure it gave, when he realized he was able to encase his entire length within her. For the first time, his balls met her cream-coated lower lips, and he gasped at the intense pleasure. The feel of her hot wetness milking the whole of him was a joy that threw all of his other senses into override.
“God…Atrilan.” He tried to speak, tried to tell her how he was feeling, but it had been so long since they had made love. His brain had turned to mush as his body urged him into the primal dance of creation.
She was nipping him lightly on his neck and shoulder, her hands clutching his hips, pressing on them, pulling and tugging, wanting him to go faster as soft, impatient noises came from her throat. Deeper. She wanted him deeper. She wanted more of him, as much as she could take of him. She would let him know if he hurt her, and that knowledge gave him the freedom to take her fully. Completely. Repeatedly.
Burying his hands in her hair, supported by his elbows and knees, Yulen began plunging into her as he felt himself pulsing, growing closer to the edge. Knowing they were free of the last restrictions, he bent over Atty and pressed his face against hers as she lifted her legs to accept all of him.
Each stroke was an affirmation of their love and desire. Every shuddering moment of oneness eased the torment of the past five months. There was no more hunger. No more waiting or wanting. No more pent-up frustration. Love was a thick blanket covering them in their rapture.
He spoke to her as he buried himself over and over inside her body, whispering tender words of affirmation. Atty responded with little cries of delight, sending sparks of lust through them, galvanizing them into moving faster as they began their spiraling ascent, urging them to push harder and deeper. Rocking, pushing, panting in the last frenzied rush to reach their pinnacle, grab onto it, and launch themselves over the top, until the last fiery rays of sunlight consumed them in a burst of incandescence, melting every bone and muscle as they fell weightless and mindless back onto the woven rug before the hearth.
Yulen felt his body shaking uncontrollably as he rolled onto his side. Atty kept her legs secured around his hips, keeping him pressed inside her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pressed his hands against her buttocks, squeezing them hard, grinding her against his groin. They kissed, their lips locked as tightly together as their bodies.
Long minutes passed. They refused to move. Refused to release each other from the perfect blending of their flesh. Yulen sucked lightly on her lower lip, pulling his head back just enough so they could breathe, yet remain within brushing distance of each other’s lips.
“My beloved, Atrilan.”
“I love you,” she murmured, her mouth touching his with every syllable.
He pressed her closer, and already he could feel himself growing again within her. Filling her tightness. Thickening and lengthening, until she shivered in his grasp, moaning from the sensation.
“How long do we have?” he breathed.
“I don’t know. I’ve lost track of time,” Atty admitted, giggling softly.
“I want to make love to you all night tonight,” Yulen told her, nuzzling her cheek. He probed between her teeth, teasing her lips until she opened her mouth to him. With her acceptance, an intense, almost painful surge of desire swept over them. Her inner muscles clamped down on him so tightly he could barely move inside her. “Atrilan!”
Lost within her, lost within him, prisoners to the all-encompassing love filling every pore in their skin, they surrendered to its heat, its power, and its promise. This was as it should be—their lives, their happiness, their total commitment to each other.
It would take countless hours and days for the conflagration they had ignited at that moment to smolder into an exhausted heap of warm ashes. But those ashes would forever contain bits of combustible tinder, ready to burst back into flame at the right moment.
Lost in the rapture of their penetration, as their bodies relentlessly dove back into each other, they forgot everything and everyone around them. Until all that was left was their need, their passion, and their love.
This was their life as it was meant to be, and it welcomed them back with open arms.
Chapter Five
Flu
Fortune tried the front door of the lodge to find it was locked. He turned to give his wife a knowing look. “Does this mean what I think it means?” he asked with a growing smile.
Tory gave him a loving glance. “We need to find Mattox some milk,” she whispered. Giving her a nod, Fortune helped her over to the main lodge where midday meal was being served.
They had been away for two hours. In that time, Mattox had awakened, wet and hungry. Tory could handle the wet part, as Atty kept spare diapering cloths in the front part of the carrier where there was a little pouch. But the hungry part was not as easily solved. She had no idea where to find a bottle pouch. The only thing she could think of would be to see if the infant would take milk from her fingers a drop at a time, or maybe suck it from a bit of cloth.
“How much longer do you think they’ll be?” Fortune whispered as they sat down at a table. Tory threw him a caustic look.
“Fortune! It’s been over five months!” she hissed.
When the servant girl came with their trenchers, the Mutah woman asked her for some milk. Without batting an eye, the girl quickly returned with three mugs.
Around them they could tell inquisitive eyes were watching. They knew the couple held the Battle Prince, and the unspoken question on everyone’s lips was, “Where were his parents?” In the meantime, bits and pieces of the latest gossip filled the hall. The talk racing around the compound at the moment was the shock of seeing Yulen without his shirt, and realizing what the Bloods had done to the Battle Lord when he had been their captive. As well as finally comprehending the gruesome stories the survivors told, and the miracle of their rescue.
Tory tried to ignore the curious stares as she tried to get Mattox to accept her fingers dipped in the milk. The child suckled the drops eagerly, but it wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t fast enough. The baby fussed. His unique, ruby eyes turned a dark, scarlet hue. She tore a small strip of cloth from her tunic and twisted the end, dipping it in the milk and seeing if he’d suck from it. That
was also a miserable failure.
For one of the rare times in her life, Tory felt a sense of helplessness come over her. She thought she could help. She honestly believed she could solve this small dilemma, but things weren’t working out the way she’d hoped. Mattox wouldn’t take the milk she offered, and he was quickly letting it be known his empty little tummy needed immediate attention.
Fortune saw the expression coming over his wife’s face and realized she was beginning to panic. “Want me to call someone?”
“Who?”
“That Berta woman might be able to help.”
Tory threw him a desperate look. Holding the baby to her shoulder, she tried to rock him when the main hall suddenly grew quiet. Fortune and Tory looked up to see the Battle Lord striding purposefully toward them. The first thing she noticed was that he’d changed clothes. The second thing she saw were the droplets of water still clinging to his hair. The man had just taken a bath.
“Thank you, Tory,” he smiled softly at her as he swooped down to gather his son in his arms. “I’ll take him now. His mother’s waiting for him.”
Before she could answer, she was stunned when he leaned over and planted a quick kiss on her cheek. Eyes wide, she touched the place on her face as they watched Yulen walk off, speaking soothingly to the crying infant tucked under his chin. It took another second for her to realize the man hadn’t been wearing his weapons belt.
“You think it’s safe to go back to the lodge now?” Fortune grinned slowly. Tory giggled. The wetness on her cheek continued to burn, but her relief was easily readable to her husband. She opened her mouth to respond when two platters of food were dropped in front of them. The serving girl gave a Tory a grin and a wink before leaving them alone. They took their time to enjoy lunch before heading back to the lodge and their room on the bottom floor of the Battle Lord and Lady’s home.
When they arrived back at the new lodge, they found the door unlocked. Walking inside, they were aware of the murmur of voices coming from the overhead loft bedroom. Tory lifted her face.