Nuworld: Claiming Tara (22 page)

“We’ve three more clans arriving from the east,” Darius
said, without looking up as Patha and Tara entered Patha’s
trailer, which was the newly converted main headquarters.
Darius
sat
at
the
landlink
reviewing
incoming
transmissions from his commanders and a newly arrived
clan, the Kill Water clan. He responded with orders, telling
the clan where to set up camp. Then he turned and spotted
Tara. As she tossed her jacket on the back of a chair, he
immediately
noticed
bones showing at the
top
of
her
shoulders. He stood and removed her headscarf without
asking.
Her blue eyes searched his features before meeting his
gaze. Dark, puffy circles rimmed her eyes and her face was
gaunt. Her skin looked gray, partially from lack of sleep
and partially from dirt and campfire smoke. She smelled of
the smoke and anti-inflammatory powder.
What had he done? Darius kept his expression placid.
The slightest inclination that he found her lacking, and
she’d be outraged. Tara looked worn out enough, yet
spiking on adrenaline at the same time. He knew from
experience that often led to quick tempers, even in himself.
But Tara didn’t look well. He’d been so wrapped up in
battles,
strategy,
and
protecting
Gothman
from
an
unpredictable enemy that he hadn’t given enough thought
to his claim and unborn child.
He’d issued his fair amount of lectures over the winters
in drills, scrimmages, and even recently during battle that
his men keep their claims out of their heads. The moment
any man started thinking with his dick instead of his brain
was the
day he
died
a dishonourable
death.
Had
he
intentionally followed his own advice a bit too closely
because, if he hadn’t, it would have meant pulling himself
from the front line to deal with his pregnant claim?
Not that he hadn’t wanted to see her. Hell be doomed!
He’d ached from the very fibers of his being to have her
fighting at his side. He had definitely wanted her warming
his bed at night. The only time he had mentioned his place
was in the Gothman camp to Patha, he’d quickly been shot
down. Patha wanted Darius by his side to uphold the
reality of Gothman and Runners fighting together. He’d
also pointed out how it was good for Tara to learn to give
orders to warriors who didn’t already follow her blindly.
Darius saw now that as much as he liked the old man—
he’d wished his own father had been half the man Patha
was—that he should have stood up to him and insisted on
seeing Tara. Because he hadn’t, his claim looked ready to
collapse. Darius should have known she would never have
pulled herself from duty.
Tara was too thin. She no longer wore her skin tight
Runner clothing. Was she wearing another man’s clothing?
He almost growled at the thought but didn’t want the
conversation he was about to have beginning with a fight.
His claim was dirty, exhausted, and smelled.
It
struck
Darius that
he
still found
her
incredibly
beautiful. He had made a promise to the doctor to remove
her from battle. A promise that now had to be carried out.
“Sit, Tara, have something to eat.” Patha took her from
Darius and guided her into a chair at the round table,
which sat to one side of the spacious living area.
Tara complied and almost collapsed into the chair. A
wave of exhaustion hit her. Holding up her head with her
hands, she ran fingers through her hair. She was not
thinking
clearly and guessed
fatigue
was taking
over
quickly. A few hours’ sleep and a hot shower and she’d be
good as new.
“I can help.” Tara tried standing.
Patha began pulling food from his cold box.
“Sit.” Darius stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.
Patha placed several plates of food on the table.
“This looks so good.” Tara eyed the sliced meat, smoked
boar with the fat trimmed, and cold duck legs. Several
chunks of
cheese
were
still wrapped
in thin,
almost
transparent cloth. She reached for a vine of grapes out of a
chilled bowl.
The men joined her and they ate in comfortable silence
for a few minutes.
“The Blue Horn clan reports all units are ready for
battle,” Darius said with his mouth full and a peeled duck
egg in his hand.
“Good. I want all clans to report in before the end of the
day.” Patha stabbed his boar meat with his eating knife,
then added a chunk of cheese. “Something to drink, Taragirl?”
Patha leaned back to the wooden counter behind him,
which divided his living/working area from his kitchen and
grabbed a ceramic pitcher. He poured iced grape juice into
mugs for all of them.
“Thank you,” Tara said between bites.
Darius pondered how to bring up the conversation of
Tara stepping down. He gave less thought to relieving his
seasoned warriors of duty when necessary. Darius knew
why, too. None of them would dare argue with him over his
decision.
“Don’t let those clans dawdle in getting their updates to
you.” Patha waved his silver eating knife at Darius, a gift
Tara had given him when she’d been a child. Its tip, similar
to Reena’s knitting needle but with a sharper end, had
remnants of cheese on it. “If all clans haven’t reported in
before sundown, send them notice, or they’ll receive the
last available slots when I position everyone for battle.”
Patha slid his chair from the table, then stood and
patted his belly.
“Are you leaving? I’ll walk with you,” Tara said. She
wanted to talk to him about her and Darius working
together instead of in different camps.
Patha chuckled. “Not this time, Tara-girl. I can tell you
aren’t done eating. And when you are done, enjoy a shower.
I know living out of that tent you’ve been in all this time
has denied you such luxuries.”
“A shower would be nice.” Tara stood and began carrying
the plates to the other side of the counter. She waited for
Patha to leave before speaking again. “Your Gothman
warriors still have trouble acknowledging my authority.”
“It will take them time. A culture doesn’t change in a few
cycles.” Darius slid her hair across her shoulders and
kissed the back of her neck. “Go enjoy that shower now,
my lady,” he whispered against her skin, sending chills
down her body.
The water was hot and had never felt so good. Tara let it
spray over her body, praying it would revitalize her. She
was so worn out it took effort to scrub herself. Water was
rationed and not wanting to use all of it for her own
comfort, she did her best to hurry.
Tara stepped out of the shower long before she wanted
to and wrapped herself in a large towel. She wasn’t wearing
the clothes again that she’d removed to shower. They were
stained, and they smelled. She would have to send for fresh
clothes. The
large
bulky towel wrapped
around
her
accentuated the size of her growing tummy.
“You’ve got to come out sooner or later.” Darius leaned
patiently against the wall at the end of the short hallway as
Tara opened the bathroom door and turned the other
direction. Nothing but that white towel separated her from
Darius.
Tara headed into the spare bedroom, hoping Patha
might have something stored that might fit her. Darius
followed and came up behind her. As she turned to face
him, he grabbed the towel and pulled it off her.
“Woman, you’re so beautiful.” He gazed at the growing
bulge between her disappearing hipbones. “Look at you. I
should have you home with plenty of servants waiting on
you.”
“I’d be bored senseless,” she complained, making a face
at him. He stroked her hair, pulled her to him, and rubbed
her stretched tummy. His child grew within her. That child
would be healthy and strong if his mama didn’t carry him
into battle every day. She must return home, to a safe
environment, and if he
worded it right
she
would go
willingly.
“We’re warriors, I don’t need to be taken care of,” Tara
added, but made no attempt to move out of his strong
hands. She wanted to stay by his side, with him helping
her
through
this
strange
transformation
she
was
experiencing.
“I love you, and our child,” he whispered in her ear as he
picked her up and shut the door with his foot.
He
laid
her
on the
bed
shoved
in the
corner
and
caressed her sore muscles. Darius kissed the bruises on
her body with lips that seared her skin. Her weary muscles
had the consistency of over-boiled potatoes. All she wanted
was to reach up and run her fingertips over his skin. She
wanted to feel those tight, coarse curls that sprinkled over
perfectly chiselled chest muscle.
As sleepy as eating and a hot shower had made her,
Tara was more awake than she’d been over the past cycle
when Darius spread her legs and began kissing her inner
thighs. Heat sprang to life inside her and grew unbearable.
She felt a slight contraction as she lifted her hips to meet
his lips. It was oddly pleasant.
That sensation was quickly replaced by another, more
carnal, and desperate. Darius took her places she’d only
dreamt of night after night, alone in his tent, in his camp.
It took no time before her orgasm followed.
When Darius entered her, his velvety round tip glided
over her soaked walls. His thick, hard shaft sunk deep
inside, straight to her core. He wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t
want
gentle.
She
wanted
her
warrior
in
all
his
magnificence. She wanted him aggressive, dominating and
controlling her senses. Because right now she doubted she
could do anything other than enjoy him.
Tara took all of him and cried out for him more. With
each plunge, he brought her closer to the edge. She clung
to him, and to the moment. She didn’t ever want their
lovemaking to end. The edge was right there but it felt too
good to take the plunge yet.
Darius was a relentless lover. His body rippled with
power. She felt that power fill her. But then he adjusted his
angle. He’d been toying with her, letting her think she
controlled when she came. It showed on his face the
moment he impaled her and hit that spot. Tara came so
hard that her world shattered before her eyes. He followed
with a few hard grunts, then exploded deep in the recesses
of her flowing, molten heat.
Darius leaned on his arm next to Tara, enjoying the halfsmile on her face and the glow in her sapphire eyes. Her
body relaxed and her expression turned peaceful. This is
how he wanted his claim; satisfied with his love for her,
and looking content instead of stressed and overworked as
she had when she’d entered the trailer. He wouldn’t have
her seen in public again showing such extreme signs of
battle fatigue. This beautiful woman would carry his child
and glow with
satisfaction
that
she
belonged
to
him,
needing nothing and not entangled with worries.
“What?” Tara demanded after a moment. That sated
smile remained on her face. “Why are you staring?”
“You’re glowing. Pregnancy suits you very well. We
should have lots of children.” Darius traced his index finger
along her cheekbone and down to her mouth, allowing her
to suck on it while her wide blue eyes stared up at him.
Tara pushed his finger out of her mouth with her
tongue. “Oh right, that way you can order me to my room
as soon as I start to show.”
“Tara, you know you can’t stay here. I don’t need to tell
you that.” He lay next to her and tightened his grip when
she tried pulling away. “I’m going to reassign you—but your
skills won’t go to waste. I promise. The Sea People have
attacked Bryton as well.”
He hurried to speak when she would have interrupted. “I
have warriors assigned there, but I don’t have to tell you
most of them are here. Bryton is full of
women and
children. I need someone to watch over them. My men
there are too young, or too old, to be here. Hilda and Reena
can see to your needs as well as any other lass you wish to
have help you. I’ve stationed soldiers around the house,
but I need someone for them to report to who can keep me
informed.”
“How long did it take for you to think up that one?” She
smiled at him, pleased she would still have responsibilities,
although she’d be out of the heart of battle.
He didn’t return the smile, but his eyes twinkled.
“I’ll leave in the morning,” she decided. She snuggled up
next to him, and tried organizing in her mind what she
would do in town. She would organize the women to supply
the troops with food and clean blankets. She thought of
ways to get his men to listen to her, but soon sleep took
over.
Darius listened to Tara’s gentle breathing. Life couldn’t
be this good if he’d planned it. He ran his finger up and
down her outer thigh. She’d been so submissive during
their lovemaking. Agreeable even when he reassigned her to
home, where she’d relax and let the warriors tend to the
duties of battle.
Just thinking about how she’d obeyed his orders got him
hard all over again. Could it possibly be that she’d accepted
that he was in charge? If he gained Tara’s submission to
him completely, he’d rule Gothman
and
all the Runner
clans.
Darius ran his hand up her body and fondled one of her
exposed breasts. She was so beautiful, the perfect woman
for him. Tara wanted to be in charge, too. But there was
only one leader. She would advise at his side, and he would
control both nations. Darius smiled as he played with her
nipple
and delighted
in her
quickened
breathing even
though she remained sound asleep. He’d captured a
beautiful Runner, and now she walked proudly by his side.
He would defeat the Sea People and soon control all of
Nuworld.

When Tara woke, she was alone. There was an outfit
folded on the chair next to the bed, a Runner’s maternity
dress. Tara got up and pulled it over her head. It slid down
her body easily. She was thrilled not to have to struggle so
her clothes fit, only to feel cramped in them all day. She
ran her hands down the black material and turned to the
full-length mirror that still hung next to her door from
when she was a child.