The Battle Lord Saga 02 - Her Battle Lord's Desire (26 page)

“He said...he said I needed to talk to you. He said I had to explain what was going on.

And then, if we both agreed, to let him know. He wouldn’t give it to me until we both agreed.

That’s what he told me.”

Yulen suddenly released her hand and got to his feet, searching the blankets until he found

his pants. Atty watched as he pulled them on and started to button them up.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m going to find Liam and order him to give you the contraceptive.”

“
What?
” The flat angry tone of his voice could not be ignored. Atty stared at him wide-

eyed. “Yul, it has to be after two in the morning!”

“Mmm, probably closer to three.” He grabbed his tunic and turned it right-side out

before slipping it on.

“Then answer
me
why,” she whispered as she clutched the blanket to her breasts. “I told

you I was willing to take that chance now.”

He paused just inside the doorway, weapons belt in his hand. “Maybe now, Atrilan,” he

answered her. “Maybe tonight you’re willing. But what about tomorrow night? Or the night

after that?” He shook his head. “We’ve only been married a few short months. We’ll talk more

about it later. Maybe after a few more months or so you’ll be able to find it in your heart to

accept a child. Until that time, I will wait for you. Just like this time, when I trusted you and

waited for you to allow me back into your body.”

He gave her another long look, then ducked through the door flap, leaving Atty alone to

shiver in the cold, damp, early morning air. Covering her face with her hands, she waited to see

what would happen next. In the meantime, she could feel the delicious, telltale soreness between

her thighs and in her lower belly, along with the stickiness.

A child. A product of her and Yulen’s love. A child that was part her and part him. A

boy or a girl. What would that child look like? Despite the fact that the baby could have some

mutant mark, would the child look more like her? Or like Yulen?

She lifted a lock of dark blue hair curled over her breast. Both of her parents had been

dark-haired. Her mother had brown, her father black. Sometimes she had wondered what color

her hair would have been if it hadn’t been blue.

If there was a baby in their future, could the child have blue hair like hers? Atty

immediately shook her head at the thought. Mutah marks were as individual as fingerprints. It

was a well known fact that no two Mutah bore identical or similar marks. In fact, it was a belief

passed along through many generations that once the marks began to repeat, that moment would

signal the beginning of the end of the Mutah races. And that, eventually, all marks would

eventually disappear, withdrawing back into the gene pool until there was no longer anything to

differentiate Mutah from Normals.

Of course, there was also the belief that repeating marks would most likely occur in the

offspring between Mutah and Normals. Was it possible the repeating marks could happen within

their lifetime?

Atty sniffed loudly and swiped at the drying tears on her cheeks with the back of her hand.

A baby.
A child who would take the world the way she and Yulen left it and carry it forward into the future. Madigan referred to it as the D’Jacques Dynasty.

A baby.
Atty took another deep, shaky breath. How would a baby growing in her

stomach feel? How would
she
feel?

The only thing she was certain of was how Yulen would react if she got pregnant. She

had no doubt he would rush right out into the courtyard and ring the announcement bell the

moment he was told the news. More than that, she knew her husband and Liam would take every

precaution necessary to protect her and the baby, and see that she had a safe and uncomplicated

delivery.

She bit her lip as she suddenly realized how her thoughts had shifted. How her feelings

had changed. Was it possible to love someone so much that she was willing to risk everything for

his happiness?

For some strange reason, the possibility no longer frightened her.

“Liam. Wake up.”

MaGrath groaned softly but made no movement. Again Yulen shook the man who was

bundled up inside his bedroll. “Liam, wake up.”

This time the physician managed to crack one bleary eye. “Yulen?” He tried to sit up, but

from his actions it was clear he was suffering from an overdose of lemon verbossa. One hand

pressed a palm to his forehead. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, then lifted his face to find

the Battle Lord standing over him, an equally grim expression on the man’s face. “What’s wrong?

What time is it?”

“It’s about three in the morning.”

“Three? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” He managed to get shakily to his feet as

Yulen offered a hand to help steady him.

“There’s no emergency, but I want you to give Atty the contraceptive like she asked.”

MaGrath stared at him in disbelief. “What? Now?”

“Yes, now. And Liam, next time Atty asks you for anything,
any
thing, you will give it to

her without a lecture or condemnation. Do you understand me?”

Jerking his arm away from Yulen’s supportive hand, the physician turned an angry face

toward the young man. “So she’s convinced you she’s too scared to have children? And you

believed her?” he asked hotly, but softly, so as not to arouse any of the sleeping soldiers nearby.

“Yes, I believe her. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re in denial, that’s why. Because you’re letting your love for her color your

thinking. Yes, she’s afraid. But deep down she doesn’t want children. Ever. Haven’t you

figured that out by now?”

Yulen shook his head. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is! She doesn’t want to be burdened with the responsibility. Hell, her life right

now is exactly the way she wants it. She has total freedom. She can go out and hunt to her

heart’s content, then come home to you. Why burden herself with having to take care of a baby?

Because she knows that once she does, all that freedom will go out the window, and she’ll be tied

down with having to feed it and care for it and raise it. No more carefree days running around in

the forest and making love with you beneath the trees. Oh, don’t look so surprised, Yulen. Did

you really think we didn’t know what you two were doing out in the woods when you

disappeared for hours at a time?”

MaGrath snorted and reached for his boots to begin pulling them on. “I want it on the

record that I’m giving this stuff to her only because you ordered me to. I still don’t think she

should be taking it. Dammit, Yulen, she’s your wife. She owes you an heir.”

“She owes me nothing,” Yulen responded quietly. There was an undercurrent of hostility

in his voice, but he kept his temper in check. “And you’re wrong about her never wanting to have

children. Liam, we’ve only been married a few months. I’m willing to give her time. Frankly, I

don’t care what you think. She’s not ready yet. She’s not ready to be a mother, and I will not

force her to do anything that will upset her or in any way jeopardize her love for me.”

“Oh, yeah? And what will her excuse be in another two or three years? That she’s still

not ready?” He harrumphed as he snatched his medical bag from where it sat on the ground next

to his bedroll. “I’ll be looking forward to hearing how you defend her then.” He strode away,

albeit a bit wobbly, heading for the tent, and leaving the Battle Lord behind to bite back his angry

reply.

The moment MaGrath entered the tent, it was more than obvious what had been going on.

Near the center of the pile of disarrayed pillows and blankets Atty sat as if waiting for him. She

lifted a face filled with defiance, her eyes flashing and daring him to make a hurtful comment when

she heard him enter. At the sight of her love-tousled hair and slightly swollen lips, MaGrath

couldn’t remember if she had ever looked more beautiful. Her long, shapely legs were bared to

her thighs. Only a thin blanket covered her breasts and abdomen. The scent of sex clung to the

night air.

“I’m here under protest,” he announced flatly.

Instead of responding, Atty brushed back her hair. Her gesture caused part of the blanket

to slip, revealing one lovely pink-tipped breast.

“Besides, isn’t it a bit late to be asking for it now?” he continued to antagonize her.

“Liam, you’re still drunk.”

Shaking his head, he flipped back the cover of the bag and reached inside for the small

glass vial he’d placed in an inside pocket. Somehow a little voice had told him it was only a

matter of time before he’d have to give it to her. Tossing her the little bottle, he instructed her,

“One drop in a glass of water every day. This should last you about two weeks. When you start

to run low, bring me the bottle and I’ll refill it for you.” Pulling the bag’s strap back onto his

shoulder, he gave her one final glare. “I may be feeling the effects of that damn lemon verbossa,

but it hasn’t changed the way I feel about your decision.”

“Mine and Yul’s decision,” she softly corrected him.

“No,
your
decision. He made his out of love. But you had a completely different reason

for the choice you made.”

“Oh? And what do you think my reason is?”

“Selfishness,” MaGrath snapped. Without waiting to see what her reaction would be, he

ducked out of the tent and went in search of the Battle Lord. He found the man talking with the

sentry posted at that section of the compound wall.

Spotting the physician, Yulen watched for him to signal he’d done as requested. When the

signal came, the Battle Lord bid the young soldier a good night and returned to the tent where

Atty was waiting for him.

For a long moment he stood inside the door flap, staring at her. Finally, it was she who

broke the silence. “It’s cold, Yul. Come warm me?”

He didn’t need to be asked twice.

As she always did, Atty first took notice of her surroundings before she opened her eyes.

Rising from the depths of sleep, as her body awoke her of its own accord, she heard faint sounds

of movement and voices outside the tent. Although it was still dark inside the structure, her

internal clock told her it was just past sunrise. The compound was waking up. Any plans she’d

made last night to go out hunting before daylight had been neatly nipped in the bud.

She was warm. Comfortable. Tired. Sore. Oh, God, she was sore, but the knowledge

brought a satisfied smile to her face.

There was a feathery breath against her back. A warmth stretched down, past her

buttocks, behind her calves, all the way to her toes.
Yul.
Memories of the night before came

back to her. When he had returned after searching for Liam, they had begun to make love again.

Only it had turned into another tumultuous, lust-driven bout that had left them both quivering like

boneless puddles in its wake. She had no recollection of when they’d finally fallen asleep.

Stretching just enough to get the cramp out of one leg, she wondered what the women

would be serving for breakfast. Sharing a nice, intimate meal together would be nice. Could she

manage to creep outside long enough to get some of it, plus two mugs of coffee, to bring back

before he woke up?

Well, there’s only one way to find out, she told herself, sliding out from under the

blankets. She started to crawl over the tumbled bedding when a warm hand firmly grabbed her by

the ankle. “Where do you think you’re going?” a sleepy voice demanded to know.

She glanced back at him, aware of her bare bottom sticking up in the air. Yulen was also

very aware of the temptation the creamy buttocks provided. “I’m starved. I was going out to get

some breakfast and bring it back for us to eat here.”

“Worked up an appetite?” he grinned. A second later he winced. The hand that had

grabbed her ankle released her and pressed against his forehead as he gave a deep groan of

protest.

“Headache?” she asked him, whispering.

“From the verbossa?” he countered.

“Coffee will help. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She pulled a fresh change of clothes from the travel bag kept inside the tent. No more

dresses, she swore to herself. For the next few days she could go back to her beloved leather

pants and loose top.

Reaching the door flap, she stopped to stare at Yulen’s sword and scabbard buried several

inches in the dirt just outside the entrance, the hilt close enough to almost bar the entrance.

Curious, she stepped outside and waited for her eyes to adjust to the bright morning sunshine

before heading for the center courtyard.

Epiphany greeted her with a shout of good morning and a hug. “Oh, my goodness, Atty,

everyone is just abuzz about what you did last night.” The woman shook her head in amazement.

“Word is you may be even better now than you were before you got married! Can I help you

with something, hon?”

Atty raised an eyebrow at her. “What I did last night?”

The Mutah woman snorted. “Had a little of Diad’s lemon juice, did you? I’m talking

about how you split that arrow with your dagger. By the way, how’s that hunky-looking husband