A Warlord's Heart

by Michelle Howard

  “I’m sorry, Maen.” She really meant her heartfelt regret and it bore repeating.

  He leaned forward to kiss her brow and stroked the hair back from her face. “Don’t be sorry for following your feelings.”

  When they parted, he hesitated at the door leading to the dining hall and winked. “You’ll never know of the pleasure you missed out on.”

  Vesa laughed in delight, wishing she could have developed a connection with Maen. Unfortunately her heart wanted a stubborn warrior who wouldn’t know a good thing if it stabbed him. She paused on her way back to the dining hall. Maybe she should try that. Nothing else seemed to get through to him.

  Vesa happily contemplated stabbing Ramar with his own knife no less when she bumped into a smooth, unyielding chest. A chest crossed by a black leather harness. She lifted her eyes and came face to face with the man on her thoughts.

  “Did you join with him?” He growled as he gripped her arms and drew her up on her toes.

  Vesa struggled but unlike Maen, Ramar didn’t let her go easily. She kicked out with her foot and flinched when she stubbed her toe on his hard boots.

  “Be at ease. You will harm yourself,” Ramar said, instantly going to one knee. He raised her slippered foot and massaged her toes through the shoe.

  “Let me go!” Vesa jerked on her leg as the sensation of his warm palm sent tingles up her ankles.

  Ignoring her demand, he glared up at her before rising. Vesa had always liked Ramar. He didn’t laugh and joke as easily as Balal. He wasn’t as shy or cute as Kiel but he was a far sight less frightening than Argan and Overlord Vaan. His quiet strength and calm had interested her from the very beginning. Until he proved to be as cold and hard as she imagined Kavan to be. Well, Kavan when he wasn’t around Miki and the youngling.

  “Go away,” she demanded.

  As Ramar stood before her breathing fire, Vesa had to tamp down on her desire. She wished the Kabanians weren’t such big men. At least when she argued with another Raasa, she could look them in the eye without straining her neck.

  “I sought only to help you. Perhaps you would have your Maen assist.” He sneered as he spoke Maen’s name.

  Vesa thought steam would come through her head. “I don’t want Maen. You’re too thick-headed to realize who I want.”

  Dark eyebrows lifted as his eyes widened. Vesa loved Ramar’s brows. The distinctive lines of hair on his forehead betrayed his emotions when he least expected but right now she didn’t love anything about the annoying Warlord.

  “Is there another Raasa that you would take to your bed as well?”

  Rolling her eyes, Vesa shoved past him and stomped down the hall in the opposite direction of the dining area. The loud thud of his boots assured that he followed. Vesa walked straight into the kitchen where the noise level increased. Cook turned at their entrance, dropping a set of pots at Ramar’s appearance in a domain the Warlords avoided as if they’d sicken by crossing the threshold.

  “Vesa, hold. I would speak with you further.”

  She glanced over her shoulder and a thread of fear trickled down her back at his dark look. The kitchen only had one way in and one way out. Ramar stood in the way of her exit if she wanted to escape. “I have nothing to say to you, Warlord Ramar.”

  “I gave you leave to call me Ramar!” he yelled, frightening some of the kitchen servants.

  Once Vesa reached the back wall of the kitchen and the black, freezer doors, there was no where else to go. She spun on her heels and pointed at him. “You can stop yelling at me. You can stop following me and you can…” she sputtered, trying to think of something. “Just leave me alone, Warlord!”

  He closed in on her with stalking steps, keeping her cornered between the wall and the freezer. His voice lowered as he murmured, “This I can not do.”

  Vesa hated when his voice became soft. It made her think he cared.

  “Um…Warlord Ramar. Perhaps you should leave the kitchen. Cook is shutting down until the evening meal.”

  Sera’s timid voice came from behind Ramar but Vesa couldn’t see her friend thanks to Ramar’s bulk filling her vision. Relief at Sera’s presence caused Vesa to slump back against the freezer. The Warlords were not big on causing scenes unless it was the training matches they took part of in the front courtyard where they tossed one another around on the ground or attempted to mutilate one another with their weapons.

  Ramar made no effort to turn and face Sera. His eyes narrowed and Vesa trembled beneath his stare. “We will be a moment, Sera.”

  He raised his voice. “Everyone out!”

  The tone brooked no refusal. Feminine gasps reached her ears then footsteps scattered and minutes later they were alone save for the hum of the freezer at her back. Vesa straightened and lifted her chin. He had nothing of interest to say to her. “Let me past.”

  “No.” His arms crossed over his chest, drawing her gaze before she jerked her eyes back up.

  “Fine. What do you want?”

  Lips turned down, he gifted her with another fierce glare. “Did you join with Maen?”

  Vesa worried one of her fangs with her tongue then opted for a non-answer. “It’s none of your business.”

  Ramar’s fist pounded into his palm. The loud smack had Vesa jumping as her pulse raced. She licked her lips and smoothed her hands down her skirts to rid them of the dampness.

  “Answer me, Vesa,” he growled, taking a step forward.

  She leaned back, craning her neck. “No. Does that make you happy?”

  He took another step and now their chests brushed each time Vesa inhaled. Her thighs clamped together and she clenched her fists to keep from reaching for him. Ramar had no such qualms and lifted a strand of her midnight-colored hair. “Have you joined with another Raasa male then? Who has your bed, Vesa? Tell me.”

  He was too close and when he lowered his head, Vesa closed her eyes in anticipation. She waited for the press of his lips, the touch of his mouth on hers but there was nothing. Vesa opened her eyes to find Ramar studying her intently.

  “Your people favor kisses,” he rasped, breath feathering over her face.

  Thankfully, her golden skin tones muted most of her blush. Vesa gave his chest another hard push, unable to meet his stare. “You no longer have to worry about what my people favor.”

  Kabanians didn’t kiss, didn’t believe in pleasure between a man and woman in the bedroom. She’d heard it all before. In fact, his beliefs about sex were the main reason Vesa had ended matters between them after only one night. She yearned for a partner that would fulfill all her needs and the attraction she felt for the Warlord had led her to believe he could be her mate. Unfortunately their time together had proved he held no interest in pleasing a female in bed. He’d taken his relief and left Vesa’s bed before she could catch her breath.

  After speaking with Mikayla, Vesa understood his actions were the result of his culture but it didn’t ease the embarrassment she’d suffered nor did it help to know his Overlord Vaan and fellow Warlord Balal made their relationships with Raasa female work while Ramar had done nothing of the kind with her. Of course she’d made it clear he wasn’t welcome back in her arms but that was because she’d been so hurt by his cold withdrawal from her bed.

  Vesa lifted her head and blinked away the moisture gathering.

  “You cry?” Ramar’s gaze widened and he dropped the strands of hair he’d been rubbing to catch the wet trail of a tear. Another followed the first and Vesa sniffed while wiping away the evidence of her pain. Her lips twisted. “Don’t worry, Warlord. I won’t scare you with my emotional outburst.”

  Some of the women laughed at how fast the Warlords ran at the first sign of crying from one of them. Vesa didn’t feel like laughing now. She ducked under his raised arm, making her escape. This time she went straight to her room, knowing he would not follow.

  Chapter 8

  Ramar

  Ramar considered his options as Vesa took flight. The sight of her tears ha
d an unusual affect. Knowing she cried because of him sent a sharp pain through his belly. Ramar pressed a hand to his middle, hoping to ease the ache as his steps took him to the dining hall. A few Warlords lingered around the tables but Ramar ignored them when they called out to him. He searched around, realizing Vesa must have gone to the upper levels to her bedroom.

  Ramar approached the stairs with a determined stride only to have the one Raasa he least expected cross his path and hinder his pursuit of the female taking up his thoughts.

  Maen met his gaze evenly. “Leave her be, Kabanian. Haven’t you done enough?”

  Ramar jerked back. He’d done nothing to harm Vesa. Would never. “Best you move aside, Raasa.”

  Maen hissed, green eyes flashing as he leaned forward. Ramar gripped his knife but kept it sheathed. Raasa venom burned flesh to the bone. He’d be severely injured if Maen attacked.

  “If you don’t want her, let another win her heart.”

  Ramar began citing his warrior cadence to keep from flinching. The thought of Vesa caring, no loving another struck him like a dagger blow. “There will be no other.”

  Maen snorted. “There have been others.”

  Ramar’s hand snapped out and gripped the male about the throat as he increased the steady pressure. Maen stepped to the side despite the hold and kicked out, striking Ramar below the knee. His leg gave and bent, causing Ramar’s fingers to loosen as he stumbled.

  Maen jerked away and raised his puny fists. Ramar would have laughed if he didn’t respect the Raasa’s efforts to defend Vesa. Especially in the face of a Kabanian Warlord he had no hope of defeating. Ramar took a deep breath and relaxed his stance as he forced himself to ask the question he dreaded the answer to. “Are you her mate?”

  Raasa True Unions were to the death and if Vesa pledged herself to this male, Ramar would never have a chance to hold her in his arms again. Never have the chance to feel her body beneath his in bed play once more. Never experience the pleasure his friends spoke of when they discussed kissing.

  Maen smirked. “You’ve no idea.”

  Then the male stepped aside, clearing the way for Ramar with nothing more than a taunting grin, his fangs fully displayed. Ramar calmly walked around him not showing his relief at the answer but picked up his pace as soon as he reached the stairs. He took them two at a time worried that he had truly lost the only woman he’d ever dreamed about.

  At the top of the stairs, Ramar turned left heading in the opposite direction of the rooms for the youngling and his Overlord. He traversed the narrow corridor that was impractical for defense as he neared the space he hadn’t visited in well over a year. The door was wide open and Ramar had to tamp down his anger at the lax attitude the Raasa had toward their safety. He entered the room quietly.

  Tapestries hung on the wall in vibrant shades of yellow and purple, forming abstract shapes, a basket rested on the floor with bits of cloth and thread spilling over the wicker edges. Two chairs bracketed a small wooden, scarred table where Ramar remembered sharing cider with Vesa as they spoke of many things the night she’d invited him to her bed. It was the first and last time he’d ever spoken with a woman before bed play.

  Vesa stood by the bed, her back to him. The purple and black striped sheets were neatly folded with a jumble of pillows tossed on top. Pillows Ramar had once thrown to the floor in his haste to have her.

  “Vesa?”

  Her back stiffened and Ramar was at a loss. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the stone barrier for support. Balal had the right of it. If he did not speak, he ran the risk of another claiming that which he wanted. “Vesa, I would apologize for my earlier actions.”

  She reached for a round pillow and clutched it to her chest. Ramar swallowed and pushed past her silence to continue. “I…I have feelings for you.”

  Feelings he had no means of explaining. They were so different. Vesa was kind, always offering a sweet smile to those around her. Ramar didn’t bother to smile unless his brethren shared jokes. He would never be like the gentle males of Raasa. Perhaps she would not want a warrior hardened by battle. Years of fighting and defending his Overlord made him the man he was and he took pride in his skills.

  Ramar pushed off the door to approach her, seeking the right thing to say. “If you would have me leave you alone I shall understand and bother you no more.”

  He lifted his arms to touch her then lowered them for fear she’d pull away. The very thought gnawed at him. He couldn’t take Vesa pulling away from him again. “That is all I wished to say. Again, I extend my apologies.”

  Ramar turned to leave, his heart a laden weight. His eyes burned and the pain in his stomach spread to his chest. He’d waited too long to take action. The worst mistake a warrior could ever make in a fight to win a worthy prize was to delay his attack.

  “What of amends?”

  Ramar turned at the question but she still had her back to him. His heart skipped a beat then thudded madly and out of rhythm. “Amends?”

  Vesa faced him and offered a small smile despite the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. He regretted that he was the cause of her tears. “The Su-Su says when Vaan angers her he makes amends.”

  Hope reared its head. Ramar pushed the question past the thickness in his throat. “I have angered you?”

  She narrowed her eyes and walked toward him, slim hips swaying in her skirts. “Yes…Ramar. You’ve made me angry for well over a year.”

  His name on her lips had Ramar weakening in relief. His tongue moistened his suddenly dry mouth. “A year is a long time.”

  Vesa reached up and tugged at the leather cord holding his hair in a warrior’s knot. The long waves slid about his shoulders. “Yes, a year is very long. What are you going to do about it?”

  Her spirited response sent his pulse soaring and his toqa stretched within his leathers. Ramar answered with a confidence he didn’t quite feel. “I am going to make amends.”

  Vesa laughed and wrapped her arms about his waist. Ramar closed his eyes to absorb the sensation of her body pressed tight to his. He placed his arms almost hesitantly on her back. Vesa covered his forearms with her hands and tightened his hold. “Like this.”

  Ramar followed her lead and squeezed harder than he probably should have as he buried his face in her hair to whisper, “Thank the Blessed One.”

  He held her and she accepted the embrace for a while longer, neither speaking. Ramar cleared his throat, wanting to know her wishes. He would do anything for Vesa. “What would you have of me to make amends?”

  Another chuckle and though the words were muffled against his chest, Ramar heard her clearly. “Why bed play, of course.”

  Ramar froze. She must have sensed the change in his demeanor because Vesa leaned back and tipped her face up to see him better. “Ramar?”

  He sought to move from her but Vesa latched on to his wrists as he attempted to separate them. “Ramar, what’s wrong?”

  “You will not be satisfied with my bed play. It is the reason you left my bed the last time we were together.”

  Vesa gawked and Ramar felt the heat of shame stain his cheeks.

  “You left my bed, Warlord.”

  Ramar frowned and gentled his actions to ease her hands from their death grip on his wrists. She was wrong. This he remembered clearly. “You refused me the next night.”

  “B-because you couldn’t wait to leave me. You found your release and barely pulled on your pants before charging out the door.”

  Ramar paused and focused. The night stood out because he had never enjoyed himself more with a female. Vesa’s toque had a slight chill about it and each stroke had soothed and aroused as he sought his release. Afterwards, he did leave but only because he’d almost fallen asleep cradled between her firm thighs. “I went to my bed for sleep.”

  Vesa growled and Ramar found the sound cute and far from scary. “You could have slept with me.”

  “But-”

  Vesa snapped a hand up. “Bah! Don�
�t tell me of your Kabanian ways and lack of trust. If you want to make amends, you’ll stay in the bed with me this time and spend the night.”

  Ramar knew his mouth hung open and had to consciously close it.

  She continued, diamond eyes glaring. “You can sleep with your knife under your pillow in case I change my mind and want to strangle you like I’m tempted to right now.”

  Ramar surprised himself when he let out a rich laugh at her claim. “I am trusting your honor if you vow not to slay me in my sleep if I do not satisfy you.”

  It was his biggest concern. He wanted to be more for Vesa. He wanted to please her so she did not regret being with him.

  For the first time in over a year, Ramar was on the receiving end of Vesa’s full-blown smile. “I vow it and I vow that we both shall find pleasure this night.”

  Such faith humbled him. Ramar took a deep breath and released it. “I will stay in your bed through the night.”

  Small fingers attacked his chest harness with a nimbleness he’d not expected. He shifted his shoulders as she withdrew his sheathed sword and turned to lay it carefully on her table among her sewing items. Next, she worked the fastening of his leathers. When her hands brushed his thickness, Ramar groaned deep.

  Vesa glanced up and winked. “We’re getting there.”

  She shoved his pants down stopping at his boots. Motivated by her eagerness, Ramar steered her hands away to finish the task until he stood naked before her. When Vesa straightened and whipped her dress over her head, tossing it to the floor with less care than she’d handled his weapon, his breath came in light pants. Her Raasa body was as he remembered. Large beautiful breasts, a curvy waist and full hips that led to long legs. The lack of body hair left the smooth folds of her toque bare.