Warrior (10 page)

A few of the women, maids and

household

servants,

nodded

and

immediately scurried about doing just

that.

Jaisyn turned and pulled her helmet

from her head. She was about to rush

to the armory when Malcolm stepped

onto her path.

“Your Highness,” he bowed. For

the first time, Jaisyn got a really good

look at him. Malcolm was drenched

with blood. It was on his shield, his

armor, everywhere but his face. That

held the grime of sweat and dirt. She

was barely covered in anything

because of the consistent ring that

remained around her during the fight.

At some point during the battle, she’d

spotted the Wolf, bloodied and still

seated above that grey beast, and

she’d prepared herself to attack him

once and for all, and have this over

with. Her eyes had barely been on

him for a few minutes before one of

her soldiers charged him. With a skill

born of many years of fighting and an

aching familiarity with his weapon,

Vulcan had easily cut through the

solider, making her flinch and even

curse when he was through with the

man.

“Please listen to a humble follower,

liege,” Malcolm was saying from his

position next to her. “The Morden

soldiers have the castle surrounded.

I’ve already sent warriors to escort

your sisters to the keep. Join your

sisters,
liege
, until we are certain that

the Morden army cannot penetrate

our barriers.”

Jaisyn shook her head. What he was

suggesting was preposterous. She was

Jaisyn St. Ives, the leader of the

Lytherians, the people Vulcan of

Morden now prepared to destroy. She

would not cower in the castle keep

while her men suffered through

dangers on her behalf. Malcolm’s jaw

clenched and unclenched, his lips

drew tight across his face. A strange

look entered his normally bright blue

eyes, making the pupil seem to glow

yellow for an instant.

“Jaisyn, I am not asking you.” His

voice was curt and his eyes dared her

to challenge him.

His tone was so shocking that at first

Jaisyn

did

not

recognize

he’d

addressed her in the familiar. When

she did, she drew herself up to her full

height atop the horse and hissed, her

face an impassive mask, “Malcolm, I

will excuse your tone because you

fear for my life. I will not make

another

exception.

Is

that

understood?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw as he

glared at her but after moments,

Malcolm bowed his head, and spun on

his heel. Jaisyn, still riled that he’d

addressed her as such, but knowing

that it was only because he cared,

nudged the horse to the stables and

called for a squire. She had more

important things to think about than

Malcolm’s antics. Now that her main

defense was completely breached, she

had to think of other ways of keeping

Vulcan of Morden from taking her

home, marrying her sister, and

bending her country to his brutal will.

***

Four days passed and the Morden

army was still camped about the

grassy hills and plains of St. Ives

Castle, far enough from the reach of

arrows but close enough to be ready if

the

Lytherians

lowered

their

drawbridge.

Vulcan’s

men

had

scouted the area and found that most

of the city inhabitants were either

inside of the castle or had fled to other

parts of Lytheria, not that he intended

to hurt them in any way unless they

threatened his men. They
were
going

to be his people soon. His men had

also found that there were numerous

lakes and streams, coupled with

different wildlife around the area,

making it one of the most comfortable

sieges that Vulcan had ever carried

out. Varian, meticulous thinker that he

was, had also predicted that any

amount of food supplies that the castle

contained would run low shortly. He

gave them no more than six days,

especially

as

the

siege

was

unexpected.

Night had come and Vulcan was

asleep in his tent. A few of his

warriors kept watch, but as the

drawbridge hadn’t been lowered in

four days, the threat level was much

lower. A sound, barely a whisper,

roused him from sleep. Years of

fighting wars had long taught him that

a deep sleeper was a dead man.

Someone entered his tent, careful

not to make a sound. Torches were lit

all over the camp, and he made out a

slight silhouette. A woman? Why was

a woman creeping about his tent? Did

the Lytherians use female assassins?

His entire body tensed as he waited to

see what she would do. With great

stealth and agility, she approached

him, staring in the direction of his face

as

she

contemplated

something.

Vulcan could not see her face but he

was certain that she was female.

He heard a slight scrape and knew

that it was the unsheathing of a dagger

even before he saw the deadly glint of

the curved blade.

An assassin, he thought with disgust,

waiting for her to make the move that

would seal her fate.

She raised the blade above his chest,

both hands clasped at the handle, and

as Vulcan was preparing to throw his

hand out and knock her backwards,

she placed the knife in her lap before

picking it up again. This time, instead

of holding it above his chest, she

moved to place it next to his throat.

Vulcan reached out and grasped her

hand, twisting it violently until she

shrieked and released the knife.

In the next instant, he was upon her,

his large body crushing hers into the

hard pallet upon which he slept. From

this position, he could make out some

of her features. She was obviously

Lytherian. Her darker coloring gave

her away and when he pulled at the

veil on her head, he recognized the

telltale golden hair of her people as

well.

“I did not know the Lytherians were

so cowardly as to use women in

battle,” he snarled in her ear. “How

many more of you are in my camp?”

When she didn’t respond, he picked

up the knife that she’d dropped and

pressed it against her throat.

“Open your mouth and speak or I

will slit your throat!”

Vulcan was murderous.
Women
!

Women were not meant to fight wars.

Women

were

child

bearers.

Nurturers
. They were not warriors

and they certainly were no match for

them. His people understood that

perfectly. He’d never imagined that

the Lytherians used women in wars.

“No—more—just—me.” Her words

were choppy and rushed, as if she

couldn’t breathe properly. Vulcan

adjusted his body slightly, enough so

that he wasn’t crushing her lungs.

She tried to scramble from beneath

him. Vulcan threw the knife down and

closed his large hand around her

throat, cutting off her air in a different

way. Her hands clawed at his even as

eyes, almost yellow in the soft light

cast by the moon, flashed angrily.

“Do. Not. Move. Understood?” he

asked and she nodded, still clawing at

his hand. He released her throat and

she drew in deep and long breaths of

air.

“They sent you here to kill me,” he

stated matter-of-factly. “How did you

get past the guards?” A new thought

entered his mind. Did she use her

wiles on his warriors and slit their

throats. “You Lytherian bitch! Did

you kill my men?”

She shook her head frantically and

said, “No. No. I swear it. They live.”

Vulcan scowled down at her. “If I

find my men dead, I will cut you into

pieces and send you back to the

castle.”

She began to struggle under him

once more and in the process, tilted

her hips up to his. Vulcan hadn’t had

a woman in weeks and the body

beneath him was very feminine. He

felt himself grow hard immediately.

Small but soft breasts pressed

against his naked chest, and narrow

hips cradled his. She was probably a

whore for the Lytherian soldiers

anyway. What difference would it

make if he took her, especially as

she’d almost killed him?

He leaned down to her neck and

inhaled. She smelled clean and that

was good enough for a sex-starved

king in the midst of a siege.

Vulcan placed his rough hands

against her breast and felt her jump

beneath him. He used his thumb to

caress her nipple through the material

of her gown.

“Wait, stop that—
stop
! What are

you doing?” she demanded furiously,

trying to remove his hand with her

smaller ones.

“I’m sure you know,” Vulcan

replied, moving his hand to the top of

her dress and giving it a massive yank.

The sound of tearing cloth could be

heard in the tent right before she

began to struggle. Although stronger

than he’d anticipated, Vulcan easily

restrained her. One large hand pulled

both of her hands above her head as

his other hand cupped a bare, soft

breast and his thumb circled her

nipple.

“You—you barbarian! Stop that! I

am not what you think! Stop it!” she

squealed under him, her voice

gradually growing louder.

“Continue screaming, sweetheart.

My men will want you after I’m

finished.” That threat did not go

unnoticed and she lowered her voice.

She continued to buck against him,

pushing her soft parts against the male

part of him that was currently doing

the thinking.

After a few seconds more of

fighting, the woman suddenly went

still. Vulcan decided the whore had

submitted to her fate and lowered his

head to a soft breast.

***

Jaisyn froze when her privates

bumped against something hard and

impossibly long. She wasn’t as naïve

as her younger sisters. She’d had

governesses and fine tutors who had

explained to her the different parts of

the human anatomy. What she had

not been told was that the male organ

turned that stiff or grew that long.

Was that even a part of his body?

As those thoughts ran through her

mind, Vulcan, her sworn enemy, the

man who she blamed for the death of

her brother, lowered his mouth to her

breast and began to suck. She’d only

seen babies suckle at their mother’s

breasts and a shocked gasp escaped

her. Jaisyn fought his hold on her

hands, straining to break loose.

Vulcan had to be some type of fiend

to think that—to think that…

Whatever she’d been thinking left

her. She was growing warm and

although not quite sure, she believed

that it had something to do with

Vulcan’s mouth against her.

Fearing her reaction more than

anything, Jaisyn began to struggle

once more, trying in vain to pull her

hands away from his large one.

Vulcan lifted his head from her breast

and tightened his hold on her hands.

Instead of returning to his head back

to her breasts, as she feared, Vulcan

did something that shocked her once

more into absolutely stillness. He

lowered his lips to hers, which she’d

opened to bargain her release, and

thrust his tongue into her mouth.

Horrified, Jaisyn did the first thing that

came to her mind: she bit down.

He immediately released her hands

and wrapped his fingers around her