Kisri: ... and the Beast, Book 2 (2 page)

Fast, but not fast enough. A child could have seen he was checking his speed, going easy, as if she was a fragile creature and not a woman grown. She shoved her claws into the dirt and launched herself after him. No holding back, no pacing herself. The need to be free burned through her, so she trusted in her new protector and ran.

She soared.

They cleared the camp in no time, soldiers flinging themselves from the path of their wild flight. For so long she’d been locked up, trapped in her fragile human body. As a woman she was half of herself, a song with only a few notes or a story with every other page torn away.

Like this, sprinting across the plains, able to claim two legs or four paws as it suited her—like this, she was
whole
.

Ennon avoided the small stands of trees scattered here and there as they crossed the plains at a ground-devouring lope. Only when they neared the forest did he round in a wide arc.

They had to be miles from the camp by now, and the sweet thrill of exertion filled her, the quiet burn in muscles too-long neglected. She slowed to a walk, her sides heaving with panted breaths as she padded through the gentle night, the sky stretched above her like black glass with thousands of twinkling diamonds spilled upon its surface. This close to the woods everything was wild grass, green and fragrant. She inhaled and dragged in the scent of clean air and the nearby woods and—

Ennon.

“Feel better, Kisri?”

She’d shared thoughts with dozens of family and friends. Hundreds, maybe. Never before had another lion’s words brought with them such delicious warmth, an intimate touch that would have brought color to her human cheeks. It made her wonder what he felt in her quiet reply.
“Very much so.”

He’d stopped on a small, elevated knoll that would afford a useful view of the surrounding plains. He sank to the grass, rolling once before turning his head to watch her.
“Does this bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

He didn’t blink.
“My thoughts in your head.”

Kisri turned and circled behind him, stretching her legs with every slow step.
“No, it does not bother me.”
The truth, as far as it went, since she liked the brush of his mind
too
much.

“But it unsettles you.”

The danger of such communication was the inability to lie. Anyone who grew up with royal connections, however, learned to shroud their fibs in false truth.
“You are very male, Ennon, and I have had cause to be wary of a male learning the secrets of my heart.”

He actually yawned.
“A few days more, and you will be safe in your cousin’s care. That is what you want, yes?”

The casual dismissal cut for reasons she did not care to examine. Her tail swished angrily as she studied his profile and considered biting him.
“Of course.”

Something in his eyes sharpened, as if she’d answered a question.
“Of course.”

Kisri hissed and crouched low, digging her paws into the grass as she sought the best footing. The urge to pounce was overwhelming, to fling herself at him, test her strength. To play, or fight—the same thing, perhaps. It simmered inside her, a pulsing need.
“You are too accustomed to being obeyed.”

He merely stretched, though she knew somehow that he could be ready in a breath to meet any attack.
“Is that not what I am? I am the First Warlord, a commander of lions.”

“A commander of lions,”
she agreed. Anticipation shivered through her as she settled her back legs, felt muscles tense.
“But I am a lioness.”

With a challenge so blatant hanging between them, he would expect her to lunge. Lunge she did, not at him but past him, drawing on the speed of her compact body as she dove into the grass and savored the thrill of being alive. Wild.

He crashed through the grass behind her, his greater bulk bearing down on her as her muscles tired and she slowed, just a bit.

Enough for him to catch her. He pounced with a roar, tumbling both of them to the ground in a roll. She twisted and bit at his jaw, a teasing nip, then wiggled away and crouched low, her tail whipping through the grass.

Play. Easy, perfect play, with no fear and no violence. Even when she pounced again and he rolled them easily, no darkness intruded. She didn’t feel threatened when he wrestled her to the ground, when one enormous paw batted at her, claws carefully sheathed. Ennon did not seek to conquer, to hurt.

She shuddered beneath him and went passive, her muscles trembling with exertion. He growled, a low purr, and held her for a moment longer.

Then he released her and backed away.
“I sent a messenger to your cousin. If I know Mal, he will trust no one but me with your safety. When we hear back from him, we’ll travel on.”

Which meant soon she’d be safe under the watchful eye of her cousin, whose wrath no one would dare test. The long months of guarding her virtue against men determined to claim her birthright would be over.

So would her long months of relative freedom. When Mal turned his attention once more to the mundane matters of day-to-day life, the unmarried state of the youngest royal lioness would not go unnoticed.

That he might force her into an undesired mating was unimaginable, but his tolerance was limited. She doubted it would extend to open-mindedness when it came to her observance of the rules of courtship. She’d go to her husband’s bed a virgin, ignorant of all of the ways one found pleasure in a mate. Ignorant of passion, and how to choose a man who could inspire it.

This was her last chance…and perhaps her greatest opportunity. Ennon was a man with little to gain. He had the High Lord’s ear, estates and riches beyond the average man’s imagining, not to mention his pick of women. Claiming her could cost him more than he could hope to gain.

Foolishness.
Kisri rested her chin on her paws and relaxed, banishing temptation. Ennon might stir her curiosity, but even her inexperienced instincts recognized the danger. A girl should not play games with a warlord.

Even if learning the rules from him would be—

No. She’d ignore Ennon’s grace and strength and the odd way her body tightened when he stalked past her with such intensity.

She
would
.

Perhaps.

Chapter Two

The sun was high in the sky the next morning when Ennon finally ventured to Kisri’s corner of the tent. She barely stirred, still deep in sleep.

It was a sleep that had claimed the last twelve hours, but he found himself reluctant to wake her. How exhausting must it have been for her to stay on constant guard, fending off unwanted advances?

It ignited his temper, and rage bubbled up inside him in a low boil. She’d had enough of men humping her leg, and it strengthened his resolve not to touch her, no matter how the sweet curves of her body called to him.

He could have taken her during their run. She’d wanted to play, nothing more, but the way she’d felt when he’d pinned her… Ennon knew it would only have been a matter of saying the right things. Seduction, not force, though sometimes the line between the two was thin, indeed.

“Kisri.” He knelt by her cot, putting himself lower than her out of instinct. “Kisri, wake up.”

She murmured and tugged at the coarse blanket, bundling it under her chin as she nuzzled her cheek deeper into the pillow. “Is it morning?”

“A bit past. I can hear your stomach rumbling.”

Her nose scrunched up. “That is a rude thing to make note of, First Warlord.”

Rude, yes, and that made it safe. Safer than having her stare up at him with soft, dark eyes. “’Tis the truth, is it not?”

“I could tolerate breakfast.” She emerged from beneath the covers and stretched, showing off bare, well-toned arms, no doubt strengthened from training with the sword she carried. When her eyes opened, amusement stood plain in her gaze. “I hope you polish your manners better when you set out to woo ladies.”

“I don’t woo ladies,” he answered seriously. “They usually swoon in my presence, and then I have only to catch them.”

“How positively lazy of them.” She sat, keeping the blanket pressed to her chest with one hand. “Do I have to dress myself in front of you too? What if
you
swoon? You’re far too heavy to be caught.”

“Better if I go, then,” he agreed. “I can fetch your lunch, if you like. I’m afraid it is far too late for breakfast.”

Her sweet, open smile tugged at him and transformed her face from striking to beautiful. “That would be welcome, thank you.”

He nodded and rose. “Call out if you need me. I will hear.”

It was the quickest trip he’d ever made to the cook tent, only long enough to fetch a kettle of soup and a basket packed with breads and fruits. Ennon paused outside his test and rapped on the frame, to be sure Kisri had had time to dress.

“Ennon?” No more than his name, but tension wreathed the word.

Immediately, he cursed himself for his lack of thought. “Just me. May I come in?”

“Of course.”

Something clattered as he pushed aside the tent flap in time to see her removing her hand from the hilt of her sword. She smiled wryly. “I should know better. Who would dare cross the First Warlord?”

If only it were that simple. If the need to mate could drive a sane man crazy, drive him to claim a lioness against her will, it could most certainly make a smart man stupid. “Yes, who?” She held the flap as he carried in the kettle and basket. “I have wine. If you’d like something else, I shall have to fetch that too.”

“This is fine,” she promised. She was dressed in men’s clothing again—or boy’s clothing. Small enough to fit her frame, and tight enough to hug her hips and outline the firm swell of her breasts. She sat on one stool and pulled her heel up to the edge, resting her chin on her knee as she watched him. “You are worried, aren’t you? Surely you have things to do, but you don’t stray far from this tent.”

The moment her charm had shattered, she had become his priority. “I have left instructions to notify me if—” A loud roar interrupted his words, and he nodded toward the edge of the camp. “See there? Our messenger, hopefully returned with word of your cousin.”

An odd emotion flickered in her eyes, something that might have been disappointment. “He’s close then? We could be with him by sundown.”

“No, of course not.” Would she be sad if they parted ways so soon? “The messenger simply traveled to a nearby camp to see a wizard there, one who can communicate with a colleague traveling with Mal.”

“I see.” He definitely detected an edge of relief as she lowered her eyes and reached for a piece of bread. Her body language was different this morning, a mixture of shyness and bravery. “I’d better eat, then, if we have a long way to travel.”

He wouldn’t know how far until he received Mal’s message. “I’ll be right back.”

The messenger was out of breath and carefully sipping water when Ennon strode outside. “Have you news from the High Lord?”

A jerky nod. The soldier dragged in a deep breath and managed to get out the message. “The High Lord bids you leave the main army under the command of the Second Warlord and bring the Lady Kisri to him at once. Personally. He’s at the far western camp.”

It was exactly as Ennon had anticipated. “I’ve already begun preparations to do so. We leave in one hour.”

Kisri had run with him the night before, and sadness had overtaken her when the messenger had returned so soon. She seemed to want to spend time with him…but how would she feel about traveling alone with him, with nothing to fend him off but his own honor?

Honor that could soon find itself in short supply.

No matter. The High Lord had spoken, and Ennon would obey.

They made good time, but it was still only a matter of hours before they had to make camp. Ennon had carefully paced their travel, and he watched Kisri closely for signs of overexertion.

She was tired. A fool could see it, but every time he drew too close she snarled, ears pressed back against her head, teeth bared. It wasn’t until she stumbled that she allowed him to check their progress. Even then her back was stiff with the same pride that laced her thoughts.
“I am no weakling.”

It sparked his own temper.
“Only a fool flouts his limitations without reason. We are in no danger. We should not push ourselves.”

Her footsteps faltered. She stopped, her head low, and capitulated with an attempt at grace that failed to hide her trembling anger.
“I will be guided by you.”

“But you will not like it.”

“You have my obedience. Would you demand my submission too?”

Her submission. He almost stumbled at the thought. What would she be like, on her belly for a man? Being of such high birth, she was almost certainly a virgin…or was expected to be one, at least. Plenty of noble women had successfully played the part of the innocent when they were anything but. Hell, he’d had his share of them himself.

But not like Kisri.

He shifted forms, but even his attuned clothing did little to hide the arousal she’d elicited. “I demand nothing of you,” he told her as he slid the similarly enchanted packs from his shoulders.

Magic tripped up his spine. She blurred, became a human woman kneeling in the grass, clad only in a thin, flimsy shift that did little to conceal her body. “You demand nothing of me,” she agreed, lifting her chin. “It should be a relief.”

He ordered himself not to ask, for all the good it did. “Is it not a relief, sweet Kisri?”

“I wish it to be a relief.” She shivered, and the fabric clinging to her breasts couldn’t hide her tight nipples or the flush rising toward her neck. “I have never—” An awkward pause. “I liked boys. They would steal kisses, and I would slap their hands if they wandered too freely, and I was always in control. But I grew bored of boys.”

His hands moved of their own volition, stripping off his leather vest, and he could barely hear his own words over the blood pounding in his ears. “Men are not so easily controlled.”

“I know.” She didn’t seem alarmed by his actions. Anticipation sparked in her eyes, as did nervousness. “I enjoy my freedom. What man would take me without taking my independence? My
life
?”