MatingRitual

Ruby
Storm

It was a new world. A new way of life after the land known
as North America ceased to exist.

Kella is on the run after the Stonemen warriors surprise the
women of the Magya tribe as they prepare to be the chosen ones.

Jaggar, an elevated soldier of the tribe, has decided the
white-haired woman will be his mate, and nothing will deter him. Nothing and
nobody—not even Kella herself.

Spirited Kella fights him, knowing captive women are never
returned to their homeland. But Jaggar will tear down her defenses with a
loving hand, helping Kella to discover the mating ritual, one where both male
and female give freely of themselves when sharing sex with the perfect mate.

Inside Scoop:
In this world, men take what they want,
and Jaggar
really
wants Kella. Their mating dance is a fight until Kella
finally gives in to Jaggar’s lusty onslaught.

A
Romantica®
fantasy erotic romance
from Ellora’s Cave

Introduction

It was a new world. A new way of life. Three thousand years
earlier the land known as North America ceased to exist. Now? The rugged
expanse hails as the Grand Mountains, a savage towering landscape governed by a
breed called the Stonemen. The black warriors’ strength and resilience filtered
down through the low-lying jungles at the mountains’ base. The few remaining
tribes of eons ago dared not stand in their way. Those minor tribes scurried to
hide in the dense foliage when the fierce hunters were afoot…unless complacency
set fate on a different course.

Jaggar raised his wooden spear to silence the warriors
behind him. Immediately the band of Stonemen halted and clutched their weapons
in readiness. Jaggar’s alert gaze swept the surrounding jungle, his senses
filtering out the many forest sounds to focus on the implausible.

There it was again. Amid the caterwauling of overhead birds
and screeching monkeys came the sound of human laughter in the distance.

Though more than three summers passed since he explored the
area they now trekked through, he was still surprised by the sound. No lesser
tribes had ever dared enter the perimeter jungles at the base of the mountain,
no matter how far from the fortress. His Stonemen clan had seen to that, had
staked their claim to the land years earlier. Adrenaline ran hot in his veins.
Surely a battle was imminent, and Jaggar knew who the victor would be.

Sensing his next-in-command step close, he turned his head
to meet the man’s dark gaze. “Did you hear that?” he softly inquired.

Crete’s head tipped as he strained to listen. Muffled
squeals of laughter floated on the breeze. His straight, thick lips turned
upward at the corners, and he knew the hunting party had just turned to more
than securing stores of meat in an unfamiliar and unexplored terrain. “We have
company,” he whispered back.

Jaggar nodded as he tightened his fingers around his spear.
Turning to the others who waited for his next command, he again raised a
muscled black arm and silently gestured in a half circle. They understood
immediately as he knew they would. The men moved as one, fanning out with their
leader in front. Not a twig snapped beneath leather foot coverings. Not a
breath was heard. Furred tunics brushed silently against the men’s skin. They
continued forward, the unexplained voices in the distance becoming louder, and
laughter more riotous.

Jaggar crouched low to the ground, every nerve in tune as he
crept forward. The rays of sunlight filtering down through the foliage
brightened, indicating an open area most likely only a few steps in front of
him. When he heard the sound of splashing water, he reached out and parted
thick, heavy leaves from a hanging branch. His eyes widened. He had expected to
give the battle cry, but stifled the call in complete amazement. A handful of
naked females played by the pond’s edge close to where water cascaded down from
an open crag in the stone. Two others immersed in the cold, swirling center
squealed and giggled while splashing water at those on the shore.

Jaggar’s gaze skittered from one woman to the other, shocked
how their white skin shimmered in the afternoon light. He’d never seen such a
sight, but had heard tales about this light-skinned breed of humans over
council fires. It was thought this particular strain died out centuries earlier
when the earth they walked on now had nearly disappeared when hot molten lava
belched from open holes, swallowing nearly everything in its wake.

Jaggar’s gaze swept the area, on the lookout for any male
clan members who might be accompanying the young vixens. Nothing. What sort of
tribe would leave young maidens at the mercy of a wild jungle—or an opposing
clan?

Crete crouched beside him. “I see no warriors, only the
strangely colored females. I have heard of the breed, Jaggar, but never
witnessed any in my lifetime.” His words were barely audible as he peered from
behind the cover of thick leaves. “Are we to kill them or take them captive?”

Jaggar didn’t answer immediately. He watched the women
intently even as his mind wandered. Kill them? Yes, that would be the probable
thing to do. He was the leader, and a leader needed to make decisions that
would benefit his people. These women were of a breed thought to have long
perished. Did he dare expose any members of his clan to possible strains of
disease they might carry?

His eyes narrowed as shaft of pain rippled through his chest.
If it were men he watched now, he could easily raise his spear and dispense
them to the nether worlds, but Jaggar did not believe in killing innocent
women. His own love had left him in such a way, gone from the world in a deadly
attack only footsteps from the Stonemen’s fortress, a victim of a cowardly,
marauding band of nomads, murdering for sheer joy. No matter his status now as
a leader, when his mate died, he vowed he would never kill a female again. He
breathed deeply to clear his head from those long-ago visions, shoving aside
his roiling emotions.

Crete leaned close again and whispered. “What is your
decision?”

Jaggar contemplated both the oblivious women, and then the
man beside him. He and his men left the Stonemen’s fortress three days earlier
with the sole purpose to obtain stores of meat. Their fortune to the north was
minimal at best, so he had decided to swing southward through a dense jungle
area he had not visited for many a season. They’d managed to bag a few large
jungle buffalo, but the slim pickings were disheartening. And the last thing
he’d thought to come across would be a band of females completely on their own.
Yes, he needed to make a decision.

With the white-skinned women dancing along the wet sandy
bank, his attitude suddenly lightened. There would be no death on this day. “We
will take prisoners today. There will be no bloodshed.”

His small band of warriors could easily have slain any
opposing male clan members, but it did not seem they would get the chance. The
women were alone and easy targets. “Pass it to the men. When I signal, we will
take all females alive.” There was no need to hurry forward. Jaggar would be
certain his men knew his wishes before leaping into the throng of soon-to-be
female prisoners. He waited and suddenly his attention riveted to a particular
woman as she stepped from the pond with water sluicing in rivulets over her
full, rounded breasts. His cock hardened to stone at the sight of her naked
body. Though she was the farthest away, his sharp gaze flitted over her pubic
hair, the womanly pelt so sparse her feminine slit was easy to discern. What
was it about her? Why, with so many women playing in the sunlight, was it her
alone that sent sparks of fire shooting through his gut?

He actually ducked his head when she tipped her chin and
seemed to stare straight into his soul. Heat pinged through his groin and
warmed his blood. He planned to capture the small group and hand them all to
his men, but the sight of her peppered his senses with lust that flamed out of
nowhere. Jaggar shook his head. His lips pursed. He had not thought about
another female since his mate succumbed so long ago. His stomach clenched and
the breath whooshed from his lungs just before she turned away, presenting him
with a full view of her slim, tight ass. She reached for a furred sarong folded
on a rock. His lips parted as she slipped the garment over her head and pulled
it down to settle around slender hips.

Jaggar’s fingers clenched the shaft of his wooden spear, his
cock tingling with the same strange desire and need of a moment earlier. He
continued to spy on her as she strolled along the bank, laughing with the other
females. He had never glimpsed hair the color of hers. Stonemen tribal women
were dark of eyes and possessed straight, black tresses, their skin as black as
the wild jungle panthers. But the woman at the water’s edge? Her curling white
waves rested on the breeze as it dried. Shafts of sunlight filtered through her
long tresses, highlighting the strands to the color of mountain snow. The air
from his lungs whistled sensuously across his lips and, in that moment, Jaggar
understood the strange burn to claim her as his. There was no denying it.
Stumbling upon the woman and her clanswomen was fate in its purest form.

“The men wait, Jaggar.”

“They understand there will be no bloodshed? That all are to
be taken alive?” His gaze never left the beauty as she moved farther down the
muddy bank.

“No bloodshed. The men have much better plans for them.”

Jaggar nodded, then raised his arm to give the signal.
Excited black warriors leapt into the clearing amidst instant screams of
terror.

The women scattered, some being easily detained while others
struggled and kicked in their captor’s hold. One jumped into the pond and
struck out for the other side, only to be quickly overcome by a warrior and
dragged back to the shore. Jaggar effortlessly hauled a squirming woman over
his shoulder as he kept his eye on the white-haired beauty. Fleet of foot, she
disappeared into the thick brush and she was gone in an instant.

“Crete!” Jaggar hollered as he committed the spot to memory.
“Take this woman.” He handed off his squealing captive, placed his hands on his
hips and took in the scene around him. Except for the white-haired vixen who
escaped, the women were all secured. He glanced at his second-in-command, who
easily brushed off the punches of the woman in his grasp.

“You’re in charge,” Jaggar issued. “Take them back to the
fortress. One of these fine beauties took off into the trees. I’ll track her and
meet up with you later.” He turned and stared at the spot she’d disappeared
into. His determination to have her burgeoned bright. He struck out on his own,
knowing he would find the woman eventually.

* * * * *

Absolute bone-chilling fear spurred Kella’s reckless flight
through dense underbrush. Her gaze darted about, her mammoth panic and terror
acting as a shield against the sting of razor-sharp brambles grating the
exposed skin of her body. Hesitating only momentarily when she came to a
flowing river, she leaped into the murky waters, disregarding the fact the dark
depths most surely hid dangers she could only imagine. She slipped and fell
headlong into the cold churning river as the terrified screams from her fellow
tribeswomen continued to echo through the early morning mist. The eerie sound
forced her back to her feet in the waist-deep water. She slogged forward, and
with each labored breath she took, she struggled to stay upright in the
current. Twice she nearly succumbed to the heavy weight of the swirling water,
but Kella refused to give up. Her reward was the opposite riverbank as she
scrambled up its side.

She wilted onto the muddy shore, winded, but gathering a
deep breath, she struggled to her feet and staggered through more of the dense
vegetation, fighting heavy vines and realized the screams were fewer now. Her
heart lurched in her chest. How many of the young women managed to escape? How
many did not? She could not be captured!

She kept moving and soon the only sounds were those of
monkeys chattering overhead and birds cawing out warnings. Her heart tumbled
inside her chest. Surely she was not the only woman to escape, but the absence
of human voices told another story. She rested only once, stopping just long
enough to ease the aching muscles of her calves and thighs before forging on.

She needed a place to hide. If they caught her, she would be
doomed. To her relief, she burst into an open glen and spied a small jagged
opening to an underground cave. She sank to the forest floor, unmindful of the
scattered twigs and stones cutting into the tender skin of her knees as she
frantically crawled into the musty darkness, praying to the gods the hole was
not a den for the horned wild pigs that roamed the forests or a ferocious
long-toothed cat known to rip open a throat with one bite.

Kella shrank against the dank, moss-covered stone, afraid to
go any deeper into the dark recess. Her sharp breaths echoed through the
cavern. Her pounding heart made the blood roar through her ears as she strained
to hear anything. And again, only the frightening silence that boded evil.

Shoving aside tangled strands of white hair melding to
bloody scratches on her cheek, she drew her knees to her chest. Her nostrils
flared at the gut-wrenching stench of animal feces, but she would not leave her
temporary sanctuary such as it was. Far better to take her chances with one of
the wild animals than lend herself to captivity by an enemy clan, especially
the Stonemen.

Minutes passed before her breathing slowed and her heart
quit racing. The icy wall at her back sent a shiver through her body. Clutching
her arms tighter around her knees, she waited on the edge of extreme fear,
struggling against the urge to flee the small cave and distance herself from
the panic that gnawed at her dwindling self-control. She craved the warmth of
the sun but needed the safety of the darkness around her.

For countless years now, even before the time of her birth,
the Stonemen had slowly invaded the Magya’s terrain, chipping away at the sides
of the Grand Mountains that edged the flat, forested plains, building their
stone fortress and altering the landscape to suit their purpose. She had been
told since the beginning of the new time and new Earth, the mountains always
belonged to the Magya people. But now for as long as she could remember,
Kella’s clan and the other dwindling Grand Mountain tribes had been forced to
travel farther and farther from their homeland to put as much distance between
them and the tyrant warriors. Slowly the many surviving clans had adjusted to a
precarious life of forest dwellers. They’d become the hunted and persecuted, a
people lost to a safe haven of what had always been.

Trembling fingers pulled through tangled hair from brow to
neck. She had heard the stories from the time she was a child, tales of how the
frightening oppressors had plundered the many Magya clans. They were fireside
tales of horror, but this day had brought the reality. When the warriors had
come upon her and the other nine women, she had instinctually known who they
were. The leaders of her tribe did not lie. The Stonemen were giants with their
massive chests and ebony skin, black straight hair and eyes the color of night,
not unlike those beings that belonged to the underworld. They were warriors who
stole women from the Magya, and those women were taken along with them never to
be seen again. Tales of torture and cannibalism filtered back, instilling a
fear in the Magya women such as they’d never known.