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Authors: Michelle Howard

Tags: #paranormal, #fantasy romance, #medieval, #scifi romance

BOOK: A Warlord's Heart
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Miki pushed aside her half-eaten bowl of
fruit and fisted her hands in her lap beneath the table. Harol had
never been a favorite neighbor and while she openly assisted any
who asked for help in the running of their home, it was difficult
to remain polite to the aging Raasa. His ideas tended to be
outdated and his manner lofty.

“The Overlord is not a brute and my mate
understands my reason for visiting my neighbors.”

Harol made no effort to hide his irritation.
He huffed and his forked tongue flicked in her direction. “Then you
run your household as you see fit?”

Kavan shifted his weight from his position to
stand behind her chair. Merik, Eatan and Carog growled as they
joined him. Their low rumble caught the Su-Su’s attention and his
wrinkled, gold skin flushed.

Miki ignored the Warlords Vaan insisted
accompany her. “I’ve always run my home but I respect my mate’s
opinion and his valuable experience as an accomplished
warrior.”

Harol switched to the Raasa tongue. “At least
he secured a treaty between the Desani and Kaban. Raasa no longer
has to be caught in the middle of the battles between two countries
without any good sense.”

Miki bit back her retort. It was those like
Harol who’d forced Miki to rely on a worn journal and the promise
of an unknown Warlord in her effort to stand against Thenl Asgup.
The now dead warrior had terrorized many in his bid to rule Kaban
and had planned to join with Miki against her will.

Instead of calling Harol on his lack of
manners, Miki demurred. “The treaty is a good thing.”

He nodded and smiled at her seeming
agreement. When he lifted his hand to signal a servant for more
cider, Miki sighed. It was going to be a long night thus a long
visit and all she could think of was how much better it would be if
she was at home with Vaan and her youngling.

Harol took a hefty sip of his drink then his
gaze sharpened. Miki braced for fear of what he’d say next and she
offered a prayer to the Blessed One that his words would not give
the Warlords with her the excuse they needed to kill him.

She knew her concern was valid when he
switched back to Standard to ensure the men understood what he
said. “None of the changes in Raasa would have happened if your
noan, Eran, hadn’t shared his love’s journal with you.”

Miki’s head snapped up. “What?”

Harol smiled cruelly, fangs pressing into his
bottom lip. “Didn’t know that? I guess he didn’t want his precious
ward to know of his obsession for the Overlord’s mother, Ashaya
Galip.”

Miki froze, unable to believe his words.
Sensing her tension, but not understanding the cause, the Warlords
gathered closer behind her chair surrounding her in a wall of
brawn. Kavan reached down to grab her elbow but Miki shrugged him
off, never taking her eyes from the smug Su-Su.

Uncaring of the impact of what he said, Harol
continued as he leaned back in his chair, swirling his cider in the
mug. “Eran saw Ashaya first in Luall but it was Teag Galip who
caught and held her eye. Eran loved Ashaya but she wouldn’t so much
as look at another after Vaan’s father died. When Dakar attacked
Ashaya and tried to claim her for his bed, she reached out to her
Raasa friend, knowing his feelings for her. And what did your noan
do?”

Harol chuckled and his diamond-shaped eyes
narrowed. “Eran contacted Ashaya’s sister, Cree, who fabricated a
request for the Council to send Ashaya to live with her because
Cree needed help after her birthing. Dakar was angry yet couldn’t
refuse a direct order from the Council. But Dakar had to get back
at Ashaya so he demanded she leave Vaan behind to finish his
warrior training. Dakar hoped to draw her back using her love for
her youngling.”

Harol laughed without humor. “Instead she
stayed away, joined with another warrior and her first son, Vaan
Galip, grew to be the mightiest of Warlords like his father before
him.”

Miki couldn’t believe, couldn’t absorb this.
Did Vaan know?

Harol took a swallow of his drink and hissed.
His fork tongue flicked out and he spoke again. “When Dakar
betrayed Vaan and his Warlords, who did Ashaya reach out to again?
The
betach
sent a letter to Eran who helped her hide her son
and his men. Eran provided her the sakar used for their deep
sleep.”

Harol snorted. “Did you never wonder why they
were hidden on Raasa land when the Raasa didn’t so much as have
anything to do with Kaban?”

She hadn’t thought. She’d trusted her noan
and never questioned.

“The journal,” he spit out, “was Ashaya’s but
Eran already knew where the bodies were. He used you to awaken his
old love’s son because he lusted for that female until her death
and she never returned his feelings. The fool.”

Miki abruptly stood. Kavan pushed her behind
him and Merik crept in closer.

“No,” she protested. “That’s a lie.”

“Do not listen to his words of hate,
Mikayla,” Kavan warned.

Miki blinked back tears. She wanted to be
alone. “I’m going to rest for the night. Can one of your people
show me to my room, Su-Su Harol?”

He rose to his feet with a lithe move and
slammed his mug on the table. His bald head shifted in the light as
he faced Miki, undaunted by her Kabanian guards. “Are you too soft
to hear the rest?”

“Enough,” Kavan snarled.

Miki placed a staying hand on his elbow and
spoke to Harol. “I don’t need the rest. Eran gave me something I
can never thank him for. If what you say is true then he led me to
the man who is my life. The
falo
of my youngling. And Eran
gave me another great gift I can never repay. His life for
mine.”

Head held high, she followed the servant who
came to direct her to her room, Vaan’s men close behind. When she
reached her room, the Warlords checked it thoroughly, not that
there was much to look over. It seemed Harol thought to offend her
by placing Miki in the smallest guest room in his home. The red
covers on the bed were threadbare and a single strand dangled from
the corner where a small rip was visible. The checkered curtains on
the double window appeared faded and worn while the white carpet
under her feet had seen better days.

Kavan stayed behind when the others left.
Turning away from the dismal sight of the room, Miki smiled at her
overprotective friend. “I’m fine, Kavan.”

“You are not,” he denied with a knowing look
as he propped himself against the closed door.

Miki sighed and sat on the edge of the bed
and plucked at the legs of her brown pants. “It doesn’t
matter.”

Kavan tipped his head to the side. “Then why
does it weigh heavy on your mind? Do you think Overlord Vaan would
love you less if he knew your noan deliberately led you to
him?”

“No,” she whispered aloud but her mind cried
yes.

Kavan glared at her. “I assure you my Sire
does not care how you came to find him. You saved our lives and for
that we are in your debt.”

Miki’s lips curled up in a smile as her heart
lightened. “If you don’t stop Kavan, I’ll believe you finally like
me despite your constant claims otherwise.”

Kavan offered her one of his rare grins. “I
do not like you but you are amusing to be around.” He bowed low.
“Rest easy, my lady.”

He took his leave and Miki heard the thump
against her door after he locked it. She rolled her eyes, knowing
the sound meant the Warlord would spend the night sleeping outside
her doorway as he did at the previous Raasa stronghold they
visited.

She removed her clothes and slid on a heavy
gown to ward off the chill of the drafty room before getting in the
bed, springs creaking. Batting at the stiff pillow, Miki laid down
and released a heavy sigh. With the thin covers pulled over her,
she dwelled on what Harol had shared. She couldn’t help wondering
how Vaan would react.

Chapter 3

 

Vaan closed the door to the youngling’s
bedroom with utmost care. After several stories of his most notable
battles they’d quieted in their beds and drifted off. Erana would
rest the longest but it was Arane he had to consider. She slept
lightly and annoyed easily when awakened too soon. At times Vaan
admired her tenacity and warrior spirit. At others he mourned his
lack of the skills Mikayla seemed to wield seamlessly as she
managed their youngling.

“Do they rest?”

Vaan stiffened and turned. “Quiet.”

Balal grinned knowingly. “Come. They looked
tired and will surely sleep for a bit.”

Vaan doubted it but accepted Balal’s wisdom.
“Tell me of something…not to do with youngling. Blood and foul
death is preferred. ”

Balal chuckled as they headed downstairs to
the lower level of the Raasa stronghold. “Mikayla makes it look
easy, yes?”

His mate was touched by the Blessed One. “I
am not sure how she knows where they are at all times.”

After the mock sword battle, Vaan sat them
both at one of the long tables to share the mid-day meal. As usual,
Arane devoured her vegetables and the meat Vaan slid on her plate
with her hearty appetite but Erana had disappeared when Vaan
signaled a servant to fetch milk for them. For the first time since
he’d fear he’d lost Mikayla, Vaan had felt such all consuming panic
that he’d bellowed at the top of his lungs for his Warlords to
gather weapons and prepare to storm the yard. Then he’d heard his
youngling giggle. The sound had generated from beneath the
cloth-covered table where he discovered Erana hiding with a hand
full of crushed honey nuts.

Vaan had scooped her up against his chest,
heart pounding and swallowed the knot lodged in his throat.

Balal’s voice broke the terror the memory
still evoked. “It is a concern Assa and I have as well.”

Vaan raised a brow. Did he need to be
worried? “You fear losing my youngling as well?”

A crease appeared between Balal’s eyes. “No,
Sire. I would never.”

Vaan waited.

Balal cleared his throat and avoided his
gaze. “Assa is with youngling.”

It took a moment for the meaning of the words
to absorb. When they did, a broad grin stretched across Vaan’s
face. “I am pleased the Blessed One shines on you.”

His Warlord Balal had joined with the Raasa
female in a True Union and Vaan had never seen him happier.

Balal accepted his words and ran a hand
through his long hair. Like Mikayla, Assa had threatened harm if
Balal even considered shortening his hair in the way of a Kabanian.
“I worry.”

They reached the lower level but by mutual
agreement headed for the doors outside. Vaan paused by Vesa, a
house servant and Mikayla’s friend. Never before would he have
considered trusting a servant for the care of his most precious
treasure without guards. “My youngling rest.”

She smiled. “I will watch for them.”

Outside, Vaan blinked against the glare of
the waning sun, the humid air created a sheen of sweat on his arms
instantly. He hated the heat of Raasa and missed the cooler clime
of Kaban.

A cluster of people gathered in the grassy
courtyard. Vaan stopped at the edge of the crowd where his Warlords
and Raasa males trained in hand to hand techniques. “What do you
worry about?”

Balal sighed and Vaan realized his Warlord
truly was upset.

“Assa is concerned that the youngling will be
too large and that she may have trouble with the birthing.”

Vaan grunted. It was true that the Raasa were
a lean race, their men and women small of stature. “Erana and Arane
are not large.”

His youngling were smaller than Kaban
youngling at this age but they were mixed race, a first between
Kaban and Raasa. They had Mikayla’s gold skin, slanted eyes with
diamond green centers and fangs but unlike their mother they had
delicate arched eyebrows, long eyelashes and a tongue that was not
forked. The latter attributes they inherited from Vaan’s Kaban
heritage.

“Perhaps it is a fruitless worry but she has
not slept since she realized she carried my youngling. What should
I do, Overlord?”

Vaan’s gaze searched rapidly over his men. He
knew fighting moves for every hold and could wield his sword with
deadly results but answering his Warlord about…feelings was not
something he wished or preferred to do.

“Sire?”

At times like these Vaan mourned Argan’s
absence. He could have tortured his friend by having him deal with
Balal. “You should speak with another.”

Vaan waved his Warlord Keil over without
hesitation the moment they made eye contact. When Keil joined them,
chest heaving from his exertions, Vaan explained the issue ending
with, “Balal needs help.”

Envy glinted in Keil’s dark eyes. The Warlord
was closer in years to Balal and had deep dimples that won him the
affection of many women. “Congratulations, Balal.”

The usually amiable Warlord paced. “I need to
reassure Assa that all will be well.”

Vaan crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell
him, Keil.”

Keil jerked on the end of his hair in its
shoulder length tail. “Why would I know?”

Vaan shrugged.

Keil dared to glare at him. “Ramar is the one
to ask. He seems to have an understanding of Raasa females.”

Once more Vaan interrupted the practice to
have his Warlord Ramar come over.

Out of breath, Ramar managed to offer Vaan a
bow. “Yes, Sire.”

Vaan once more explained the situation then
said, “Balal needs your help.”

Ramar studied them all, lips twitching in
amusement. “How am I to help, Overlord? I have no youngling.”

“You were with Vesa. She seemed happy,” Balal
blurted. “How did you manage this?”

To Vaan’s surprise Ramar flushed. “I would
not speak of that.”

Balal kicked at the ground.

Vaan sighed. If not for Mikayla and his
youngling he would wish for the days when he and his Warlords spoke
of drink and battle. Not of…love. “Balal speak with Assa about her
concerns. Mikayla grew overlarge because she carried two. I do not
believe Assa will have the same problem at the birthing.”

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