Dance With the Enemy (9 page)

“As instructed earlier, I intend for you to tend to your duties, post haste, my son, before the girl makes the lot of us insane.”

“Will be my pleasure to do so, my father.”

Indignant gasps and snorts sounded from the women while the men chuckled and whispered amongst themselves. Elenya’s face burned, a reminder she mustn’t forget it was only the animal nature caused by the marking that propelled her warrior into such rapt desire for her. Renaine was right. Once
duties
were fulfilled, this foolishness would subside.

The atmosphere of the family gathering never fully recovered even as the meal wore on, no doubt making everything more difficult than it need be. Elenya reached again for her glass of wine only to feel her warrior’s hand clamp over hers. She frowned at him.

Tahruk shook his head and leaned toward her, speaking quietly, “I fear you have already had more than is fitting, my lady. Not to mention the lot of the group is awaiting our retirement.”

Elenya took stock of her surroundings. Conversations had lapsed into silence broken only by a word or sentence here and there. Platters were empty, glasses relieved of their contents. How had she missed the restlessness that had set in? Or had she ignored it? Perhaps the tension that shrouded the six at the head of the table had made her oblivious. Few words had been shared. Little had been consumed beyond the glasses of fine wine that her warrior was now telling her she could partake in no more.

Elenya stared at her half-filled cup yearning for one more gulp of the smooth liquid to calm her nerves. It was fine. Much better than the weak drink her family allowed her.

Tahruk stood and extended a hand to her. She placed her palm against his, noticing he too ignored the snort from across the table as she rose to stand beside him.

“Father, Mother.” Tahruk nodded at each. “With your permission, we shall take our leave.”

“About time.” Redahn clanked the metal of his thick ring against the wine cup as he spoke.

“Silence!” Renaine’s deep voice and command surprised the table’s occupants. The warrior at Elenya’s side relaxed his ready-to-spring stance.

“Permission granted, my son. Godspeed in your mission.” The older man stood and placed a hand on his son’s right shoulder. Tahruk bowed his head to receive the kiss his father placed on his crown – a sign Elenya recognized as a blessing offered to his son. She glanced to Lady Neria and then to Nema, reaching for the woman’s outstretched hand. Their fingertips barely touched when Tahruk took her arm.

“Come, my lady. Good evening, Mother. Nema. Brother.”

Redahn had been mostly quiet throughout the meal beyond simple discussion about training, general family concerns, and the injury he’d sustained in the last battle that had kept him from recent participation. Elenya had avoided eye contact with him though she’d felt him staring at her throughout the evening. Now, as she looked at him her vision blurred slightly though not enough that she missed his hungry sneer. She shuddered and wrapped her warrior’s arm in a loose hug that restored her stability as he led her from the table.

Elenya had to hasten to keep up with Tahruk’s great stride that brought them to his quarters at a much faster pace than she’d anticipated. She was quite certain mere seconds had passed before he was closing the door to his private rooms behind them. She coaxed herself to relax, fighting down the dizziness that surrounded her.

Tahruk took her immediately to his bed chamber and pulled her to him. There was no pretense as to why they were there, especially when his mouth came down hard and hungry on hers. It made her head spin faster, her vision swim. When her knees buckled, he swooped her into his arms, giving her no time to think, even if she could have, before he deposited her onto his bed.

Tahruk sat on the edge of the bed, his body twisted at the waist, strong arms pressed on either side of his chosen. His breath caught, desire flared as he took in her beauty, starting with the thick curls that covered his pillow. What a glorious crop of shimmering, cinnamon-honey red. He ran his fingers through the curls, the action releasing a mixture of Oleander and her scent – his scent within her. He groaned with wanting.
Slow
, he reminded himself. He felt her hands, warm and light through his thick tunic, run up his chest and slide down his arms.

He rubbed his thumb in a gentle circle against her temple, his eyes fixed on the fullness of her soft mouth. His tongue moistened his own lips in anticipation.

“Ah, Little One. I …”

Her hands fell from his arms, plopping limp against the bed.

“My lord …” she whispered, fighting against heavy lids. For the first time he realized she lacked focus when she tried to look at him.

Concern clouded his thoughts. “Are you ill?” he leaned closer, his nostrils flaring when she shook her head.

“I’m … I’m so … just so tired.” Her eyes closed for a long moment. She sighed then, attempted to open them again. Her lashes fluttered and closed. “Your wine,” she said in a breathy tone. “I believe it stronger than I am privy to at home.” Again she tried to look at him, gave up, and rolled onto her side away from him. “Forgive me, my lord. I must rest.”

Tahruk stared down at the fully clothed beauty. Disbelief worked his jaw, frustration and fury welled within, culminating in a deep, guttural growl. Stiff movements propelled him from the bed, his fists clenched by his side.

“Hell and damnation!” he roared. The maiden stirred only slightly at the outburst. He stared at her. For two days the fires of lust that burned within him had been denied. Not doused or dampened, merely denied. In truthfulness, they’d grown stronger with each passing moment. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her. All of her.

Contemplation battled within him. He could attempt to wake her and take from her what he wanted, needed. He had every right. She was his, marked by the Masters as his for the very purpose of assuring the strength of the royal bloodlines. Breeding. It was that simple. It was her responsibility as much as his to assure that happened. She was honor bound to submit to him.

Hands opening and closing, Tahruk inhaled deeply. His chin drooped to his chest as the air whooshed from his lungs.
Damned
, he thought.
I’m damned either way
. His need was overwhelming, and yet … damn if he wanted it to be a forceful taking the first time with her.

He sighed. He shouldn’t care. It wasn’t as if he’d chosen her. Her people were the enemy, were they not? That was a fact that could not be denied. He’d seen it barely masked within his father’s eyes. Generation to generation, they’d been taught, reminded of the trouble Aleone had caused them.

But the more time he spent with this daughter of Aleone … She rolled onto her back and he watched the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. He felt the stab inside his own chest. His brother’s face as he leered at her flashed through his mind. He’d said something about her falling into the wrong hands. The thought of Redahn’s hands upon his maiden angered him every bit as much as it had when his brother had spoken the words.

“You are mine and I will have you!” He spoke through clenched teeth as he stepped back toward the bed, then turned abruptly and stormed from the room.

Chapter 14

Long, even strides took the warrior from Zanak compound and propelled him toward the Great Hall at the center of town, his need moving him beyond reason. To hell with the Masters and their foolish rules. He didn’t care that one of the first instructions he’d received as a boy was that once a warrior was paired with his marked, he was to remain uncoupled with another woman until a
fter his chosen was determined to be with child. He supposed it was to increase the chances of fertility, though to Tahruk it seemed as absurd as the marking ritual itself.

Of course, most of the warriors whose marked maidens had presented had already consummated the relationships and many would be boasting of their virility soon as bellies began to swell and new generations were born. He swore aloud as he neared the hall. His very presence there would indicate to all that everything was not right in his world. For a brief moment he contemplated potential fallout. What would be said of him, his ability to woo and subdue? He had a reputation within the walls of a maid’s bedchamber every bit as great as the one he boasted of on a battlefield. Would blame fall on his chosen then? Would she be considered cold, inadequate?

The thought of jeering comments sent her way constricted his heart. He fought against it. It was her fault he was here. Damn her and damn the wine.

“The mighty warrior returns so soon,” a distinctly feminine voice purred, stopping him from pulling open the door.

He turned. It was her – the lusty blond who had attracted him the first night. His eyes ran over her top to bottom. She smiled as his focus returned to her face.

“As have you, fair maiden.” Tahruk stepped into the shadows, closing the distance between them. “I’m surprised you haven’t been swept up by a warrior unwilling to let you leave his side.”

She shrugged then shook her head, the blond locks swishing about her bared shoulders.

Tahruk focused on her sun kissed skin, knowing she would be soft and warm beneath him.

“I’m not interested in just any warrior.” She reached forth and fingered the fasteners of his tunic.

He grabbed her hand and held it to his chest, staring down at her. “You know my chosen has arrived?”

“Of course. I was there. Remember?” She moved closer to him. “I also spent time with her and the other maidens who arrived by ship.” Pulling herself to full height, she kissed the spot where his neck dipped in. “The Masters did you a disservice, my lord. Your chosen is no match for a mighty warrior whose legendary reputation must surely create cravings beyond those she could ever hope to satisfy.” She pressed herself firmly to him.

“I am bound to her,” he defended. It was a weak rebuttal and a throaty chuckle told him she was fully aware his being bound did little to lessen the desire he felt at that moment.

“And yet you returned. What were you expecting to find inside the hall, my lord?” Her hands had begun an intimate dance over his body. “Were you searching for me?”

He shook his head. “I already told you I would have thought you swept away long before.”

Again she shrugged. “No royal blood flows through my veins. Though it could flow through my children’s, I suppose. I believe I could assure a man of certain pleasures that would overshadow being wrongly paired.”

Was she suggesting he take her as a second. Many warriors had them. His mother was a second, sought after the Masters’ choice for his father had failed to bear the required offspring. His mother, however, was as royal as Renaine’s marked. The younger daughter of the chosen family actually, she’d stepped into the role without protest, bringing forth two males and four daughters.

He looked down at the maiden, breathed in her warm, musky scent. She was fair to look upon, soft beneath his hands. It would be simple to accept her.

Thoughts of Elenya flooded his mind. How would she feel when she learned he had already taken another, even before he had her? Were her thoughts of any concern to him? After all, the blond was right. His chosen was his enemy who had shown little promise to satisfy.

Chapter 15

The warrior settling in beside her caused Elenya to rouse. His bare chest loomed before her eyes and she swallowed hard before looking up into his face.

“Sleep well?”

Her brows drew down at the tone of his voice. Was it mocking? Angry? Or did she detect a hint of mirth? She tried to recall what had transpired between them but could not.

No. She did remember. She felt for her dress and, as she thought, she was fully clothed. Shame shot through her bringing tears to her dulled eyes.

“Forgive me, my lord. I…”

“Shh.” He placed two fingers against her lips.

“Rest, Little One,” he whispered. “Morning is practically upon us.”

Elenya searched his dark eyes though the moon that had yet to be drowned by the sunrise was not so bright, nor did she know him well enough to know what he was thinking.

Her lips suddenly dry, she attempted to moisten them only to touch his fingers with the tip of her tongue. The warrior groaned. She started to pull back then stopped.

Placing her palms on his chest, she felt his flesh quiver beneath her touch and leaned in to kiss the space between her hands.

With little effort he pulled her upward, his mouth greedy upon hers, his tongue demanding entrance. She did not deny him.

She breathed deeply then pulled away. “My lord? Have you been with another woman?” Silence stretched between them, emerald depths searching masked blues as they stared at one another. “You smell of a woman’s scent.” She was backing off the bed though his strong hand grasped her wrist and hauled her back to his side.

“The intensity of my need should answer your question,” he growled.

Elenya had no experience in these matters, she only knew her heart hurt and her pride pushed her to try to free herself from him. As she pushed against him, he rolled her to her back and pressed himself on top of her holding her flailing fists above her head. He tried to kiss her, though a quick jerk of her head landed his lips on her jaw. He merely nibbled his way from there to her earlobe instead.

“Unhand me!” she demanded.

“I think not.” His voice rumbled against her ear. He pressed her back to the bed as her hips bucked against him in her attempt to free herself. He stifled a chuckle knowing in her innocence she had no idea the rivulets of electrical currents her gyrations exploded within him.

“I will not be used in this manner,” she squeaked.

“I will use you in any way I please. Though I can scarce fathom why you fight me so when moments past it was you who tempted me.” He was assaulting her collarbone with tender kisses. She cried out when his tongue darted out to trace the bone line.

“You have betrayed my honor,” she managed to say on a mere breath, her senses reeling.

Tahruk stopped. He reared back to stare down at her. Elenya froze as well, frightened by the look in his eyes. Again she wished she could read his looks. All she knew was that the fight drained from her, the only sound between them was the heavy breathing remaining from their exertion.

“Honor!” he roared at last, releasing her and pushing away. “First you run, then you fall asleep. Twice, no less. Now you fight me and accuse
me
of betraying
your
honor?” Tahruk rolled from the end of the bed, his nakedness causing Elenya’s breath to catch. She sat up in the bed, watching him. What a glorious vision his silhouette made against the pale light filtering in from the garden exit.

She looked away as he turned to face her. Fingertips against her forehead, she peeked through splayed fingers only to look away again. She hoped he could not see the redness creeping into her cheeks.

Her head down, she heard him sigh. “There was another woman.”

Elenya tensed, her gaze still averted.

“
She
was waiting for
me
, expectant of my return.”

Jaw tight, lips thinned, her head snapped up, her eyes locked with his.

“She asked that I take her to my bed and make her my second.”

Elenya bit her lip fighting the tears that threatened. Clamping her eyes shut against the pain, she spun away from him and collapsed into the pillows, sucking air as best she could to keep the tears from falling.

His hands on her shoulders lifted her, pulling her back firmly to his bare chest. She could feel his breath on her neck and ear, though it only added to the misery that weighed on her own chest. She hated herself for feeling betrayed, hated herself for driving him to the arms of another even before their own relationship had been consummated. Honor said she could reject him for such and return to her people. Her heart told her she would not. A loud sob tore from her.

“I could have taken her, Little One. But I chose not to,” he whispered against the cinnamon-honey curls covering her ear. “I told her my bed was nicely filled already.”

Elenya reacted slowly, his words taking their time to register on her tormented brain. Finally, she turned toward him, twisting slightly so she could see his face.

Tahruk waited as her eyes again implored his.

“My lord.”

Her whispered words, lips parting softly as she leaned into him was all the permission the warrior needed. Not needed, wanted. He wanted her to want him.

With a gentleness matched to her innocence, he kissed her, his mouth remaining over hers even as his hands pressed the silken material from her shoulders. The dress pooled around her waist revealing a corset of the softest pink adorned with ribbons and lace.

The need burning bright in his dark eyes reflected in hers. While his mouth again claimed hers, his hand explored the curves beneath the feminine garment. He was pleased with the barely audible sounds she made, sounds he more felt than heard, though her response to his touch quickened his urge. Experienced fingers deftly unlaced the corset before he pressed her, ever so gently, onto the bed. She trembled as he removed her remaining garments. Was it fear or expectation? Tahruk was unsure. He only knew it fueled his desire.

Like a tiger upon its prey, he moved atop her, stopping just long enough to kiss the tender flesh of her belly.
Soon
, he thought. Soon enough her beautiful body would swell with his child.
His child
. He kissed her again before need propelled him upward.

Tahruk cursed silently at the trepidation within her eyes beneath a fear wrinkled brow. “Shhh,” he attempted to whisper against her lips, though she turned her head.

“Pl … please, my lord. Don’t…”

“No, Little One. You are mine and I must have you.” He spoke firmly, his voice still soft next to her ear.

Elenya tensed completely. Her whimpering pierced his heart without softening his resolve to have her.

“Elenya!”

She froze, her eyes connecting with his. Her only movement was the rapid rise and fall of her chest pressing against his. Tears welled in her green eyes.

“Ah, Little One.” He kissed her softly, feeling the trembling of her lips. “What lies fill your head?” He kissed away an errant tear, continuing to nuzzle her cheek with his own, wondering how to allay her fears. The likelihood of unpleasantness before enjoyment made it impossible for him to promise he would not hurt her. He pulled back to stare at her. “Trust me.”

She looked up at him, a war of uncertainty evident in the tightness of her features. At last she nodded, a short, stiff movement.

He smiled at her. “Now, keep your eyes on me and breathe as I do.”

She did as he instructed, relaxing somewhat until he began to move closer to her. He felt her slipping away again.

“Elenya.” He spoke her given name for only the second time since she’d come into his life. This time his voice was gentle and caressing -- unlike the force with which he claimed her innocence.

With eyes that said
I will continue to trust you because you asked it of me
, Elenya lay still beneath him, her lips quivering as she fought to hold back the tears.

“The worst is behind you, I promise,” Tahruk told her, his thumb caressing away a stray tear. “Now I will show you what they failed to tell you. Tonight you will know the wonders of being a woman. Of being
mine
.”

Elenya moved willingly into her new role, opening herself up to the warrior whose gentleness surprised them both. Tahruk reveled in her abandonment at her body’s response to his requests. Never before had he felt such oneness with a maiden as he did with Elenya, the daughter of his enemy, marked with his blood, chosen for him by the Masters in all their infinite wisdom.

Tahruk stared down at the woman sleeping by his side. Propped on his elbow, he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, allowing his fingers to enjoy the warm softness of her skin.

He chuckled at the depth of her sleep, thinking of the two times before when she’d slept well in his bed. This time, no frustration remained on his part. He reveled in the sated look on her peaceful features. He’d heard it said that a woman in love glows. He’d rather think a woman well loved shone with a soft brightness, as did his chosen.

He settled his head onto the pillow beside her, drinking in the scent of her tousled hair. It smelled of a sweet mixture of Oleander, her, and him. He released the handful of honeyed-cinnamon locks and moved closer to her. Elenya turned, her back to him, moving her body tightly against his. She sighed, a contented sound that made Tahruk smile. She was his. Her body knew it as well as her mind. Now he must work to secure her heart – a task he had no experience in.

“Elenya Sharanis of Zanak. I shall have
all
of you,” he whispered, his palm resting over her heart. The feel of her warm skin filled him with renewed desire. He fought it down. Time was theirs. He need not wake her now.