Warrior Lover (Draconia Tales) (3 page)

Good thing he held her. Her knees went all wobbly at the sight of his smile. Or maybe the knee-wobbles were due to the sudden stinging in her neck.

“Ouch. What—” Lily scratched at her neck. What was that sharp pain? Spots appeared at the edge of her vision, blurring her sight, panicking her. She felt Mountain Man’s arms tighten, supporting her, and the panic receded, giving way to blackness.

Someplace in the darkness voices spoke, faded as if from behind a veil of fog. Lily focused on the sounds, listening to the cadence of male voices, the rise and fall of words that didn’t make sense.

Magic and Halflings. As if those things existed. As she concentrated on the voices, she felt arms clasping her against warmth and hardness. Where was she?

And then it came back. The last moments of her life. The moments before the Mountain Man had charged in and taken her for his own. He must be the one who held her, who stroked her arm, played with her hair. Played with her hair?

Lily’s eyes flew open, only to look into eyes the same color as the town’s rivers after the snows melted. Her brain noted she was in Mountain Man’s lap, his arms around her, sitting at Keara’s kitchen table, Keara’s new husband sitting across from them. The invisible tie that bound the two of them together tensed and the kitchen faded, leaving only her giant captor in her awareness. His eyes flared, crinkling at the corners as he smiled.

“You’re awake.”

****

Her eyes fixed on his and for a moment Enar forgot where he sat. Didn’t even know what words he spoke. Hopefully they made more sense to her ears than they did to his.

“Who are you?” The pitch of her voice remained high, reminding him of a trapped animal.

It meant she remained scared. Of him. She wasn’t the first person to feel that way, but for once he didn’t like it. She belonged to him and it was his duty to ensure she never feared anything again.

What in the name of the gods was he thinking? Since when did a Watcher care if his woman feared him? Most Watchers induced fear in their women. What was wrong with him?

Her gaze remained locked on his, waiting for his response. What had she asked? Oh, yes. Name.

“I’m Enar.” He nodded in Thoren’s direction. “He’s Thoren. You’re Lily, right?”

She swallowed. “Yes.” The low tone of her voice resonated in his blood, which of course pooled lower.

He shifted, to no avail.

Thoren cleared his throat. “Since Keara’s upstairs packing, why don’t you take Lily to gather her things? And while you’re at it, stop by the inn and retrieve our bags and horses.”

Enar nodded. Unlike Thoren’s last suggestion—don’t claim the woman—this one Enar agreed with. There was something odd about the man in the square who tried to take Keara. Something Enar didn’t like, but couldn’t identify, and it had nothing to do with the man treating a Draconi female the way he had. Some strange look in his eye, as if his store was open but someone else manned it. As a Watcher, there wasn’t much that scared him, but he had to admit the quicker they left this town, the better.

And Thoren’s suggestion gave him some much needed alone time with his woman.

Enar stood, placing Lily’s feet onto the floor, grabbing her around the waist when she swayed. Claiming necklaces left the woman unsteady for a couple of hours until her body adapted to it. The magic woven into its stones prevented the woman from leaving the Watcher who claimed her, outside of his death. And it would be a dark day in Draconia before he willingly gave up this woman.

His hands pressed against a sword belt as he held her steady. A sword belt? Hanging at the wrong angle, might he add.

“Give me the rapier.” What was his woman doing carrying around a sword? Especially since she clearly didn’t know how to use it.

Her eyes widened. “Why?”

“Woman, surely you don’t expect to draw the sword with it hanging at that angle?”

She glanced down at the sheath where it hung against her thigh. Grasping the handle, she tried to draw the rapier out, but he caught her hand before she hurt herself.

“Unbuckle it and hand it over. I’ll protect you.”

She narrowed her eyes, took a deep breath and did as he asked. Slapping the sheathed sword against his outstretched palm, she turned and marched out the door. He watched the sway of her hips as he buckled the belt around his waist.

“Where is your home, woman?” he asked once they stood outside the shop in the alley.

“My name’s Lily, not woman.” She crossed her arms over a chest that wasn’t as ample as he was used to and glared at him.

Were claimed women supposed to glare? Shouldn’t they be cringing? Whenever his mother had stood up to his father the crazy old bastard had hit her. Should he do the same? He couldn’t imagine putting his hand to this exquisite woman though, she’d snap in two. And hate him.

For some strange reason he wanted her to like him.

As if that would happen.
Since when did claimed women like their Watchers?

“Fine. Lily-not-woman. Where is your home?”

Her eyes narrowed, her little tongue licking over her lips. He thought of a dozen places that tongue could lick on him before she spoke.

“My quarters are above my shop. Not too far from here.”

“Lead the way then.” Enar gestured toward the alley entrance.

She started off down the alley, pulling the hood of her cloak up, covering her hair. Why would she cover such wonderful hair? He almost pulled the hood back, but became fixated on the sway of her hips beneath her trousers. Oh yes, she’d feel good beneath him. It had been awhile since he’d tumbled a woman and this one was taking him to her home. Where there was bound to be a bed. He smiled.

Lily chose that moment to turn around. As if checking to make sure he hadn’t left her. Maybe she felt all the lust pouring off him because her eyebrows shot up while a nice rose color suffused her face.

He winked and then smiled so wide his cheeks hurt.

Her mouth opened and closed as she drew in a breath through her nose. He thought she might run, but instead she stood her ground.

“Why did you come to River’s Run and why did you give me this necklace?”

Was he really going to answer? And it appeared like the answer was a resounding yes. As if operating on their own volition, his lips started moving, attempting a clarification of his actions.

“Thoren and I were sent here to find Halflings.”

“Halflings?”

“Half Draconi, half human.”

“Draconi?”

Maybe his woman was a bit dense, seeing how she repeated everything back to him.

“Draconi are sorcerers. Lately the males have been mating with humans and the resulting offspring are Halflings. Our job is to track down the Halflings and return them to Draconia.”

Technically his job was a reconnaissance specialist, one who went into the lands surrounding Draconia to discover threats to the Draconi. Lately, though, those fact-finding missions had turned into find-the-Halfling adventures. The word, adventures, being used liberally in this case.

Boring.

He’d rather have a good fight than be a nanny, but as Thoren’s guardian, the one Watcher assigned to him, he went where his friend did and Thoren liked serving the Council.

For whatever reason.

“Do their fathers hire you to return them?”

“No. The Council requires we return them. The fathers don’t realize they’ve fathered children.” Which is why he’d always used protection. The last thing he wanted was to discover he had an unknown child. He refused to abandon a child to a life of not knowing their father.

“How can they not realize they have a child?”

He stared at her. Was she truly so innocent she didn’t know the answer? “Woman, we need to get moving. Where’s your store?”

“This way. So why don’t the men know they have a child?”

“Sometimes it just happens. How far to your store?”

Her brows snapped down over her eyes, a look of this-isn’t-over-yet crossing her face. With a humph she turned and hurried through the streets like a mouse with a cat on its tail, avoiding the crowds that surged around her.

Ah, his exquisite woman possessed a bit of a temper. A fact he needed to remember since his gut told him her questions had only just begun.

In the blink of an eye, some idiot jumped out of the crowd and pushed his woman against the stone wall lining the street.

“Look, here’s the other witch! Let’s—”

One minute the man held Lily against the wall, and the next thing Enar knew, his dirk pressed against the man’s throat. It happened so fast, he couldn’t remember moving, but the lack of the memory didn’t bother him nearly as much as the idiot’s hand on Lily.

“She. Belongs. To me. Understand?”

The man squeaked as the tip of the dirk pressed deeper into his neck, causing a drop of blood to spill. Through his shirt, Enar felt the vibrations of his broadsword, Blood Seeker, as it became aware of the scent of blood. What a shame the streets were too narrow for him to pull the sword. It was thirsty and he was itching for a fight.

Unfortunately, the man he held wasn’t a worthy opponent. Too much trembling. And if Enar’s nose smelled right, the bastard had soiled his trousers.

Lily shook, crossing her arms over her chest as if to hold back the tremors that cascaded through her body. A crowd gathered around, and despite his wanting to spill more of the man’s blood, Enar decided to settle with the man’s trousers-soiling routine as enough punishment.

Besides, a fight meant less time to spend with his woman once they arrived at her house.

“Anyone touches her and he has me to deal with. Disperse.” The crowd stood transfixed, eyes wide. “Now!” he bellowed, watching with satisfaction as the mass scattered. The man he held turned the color of snow and fell over. It was always nice to know one’s bellow was fierce enough to be sleep-inducing.

Enar grabbed Lily’s arm, swinging her to face him.

“Did he hurt you?” His gaze glanced over her slight form that still shook, although not as violently as before.

“N...n...no. Thank you.” Her eyes stared at his feet as she drew in a breath. “Do you still want me? Should I give you back the necklace?”

Was she daft? “What are you talking about, woman?”

“If you think me a witch like everyone else, I’ll give you back this necklace.”

Enar snorted. As if she could get the thing off. “As I said when I claimed you, the necklace can’t be removed unless I die. And before you go thinking that sounds like a good idea, it takes a lot to kill me. And frankly, you don’t have it in you.”

Her eyes widened, her gaze fixating on his face as one hand grabbed the stones of the necklace. “It can’t be removed?”

He shook his head. It did seem as if his woman was dense. Brains didn’t matter, she had all the necessary parts, but it would be nice if he didn’t have to constantly repeat himself.

“So I’m yours? Forever?”

“I’m not that bad.” He hoped.

“And you want me knowing I’m a witch?”

Ah, the real problem. As if he’d believe a word the bastard said.

“Are you?”

She made an unladylike noise. “They say I am. I’m different. My coloring. It’s not like everyone else’s.”

“And that’s a problem?”

“They say it is.”

“Do you believe everything you hear?”

“Only when it’s followed through by a mob threatening my life.”

Something roared inside him at her words. “Who?”

“It’s nothing. You’re taking me away, right? So it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters. You belong to me now. I’ll protect you.”

Throwing an arm around her shoulders, he escorted her down the street, glaring at all who dared glance their way. How dare these blithering, superstitious people not like his woman. She didn’t have to worry about them anymore. He was here. And he would ensure she remained safe.

Chapter 3

“You never did say why you gave me this necklace.” Although one look at his face and Lily knew part of the reason. Something in his eyes, a spark when he looked at her face, a tingling on the back of her neck when he stared at her body. She might not have up close and personal experience with what a man looked like aroused, but she wasn’t a complete idiot.

His brows slammed together. “It seemed obvious.” Did that mean he found her attractive?

Men did not find her attractive. At all. But Enar had snapped a string of beads around her neck and claimed her.

Maybe he was crazy?

Maybe. But she liked his protective streak. And the fact he didn’t mind her coloring. During the short interval between Keara dashing through the gate and Enar claiming her, Keara had mentioned her husband didn’t mind what the townsfolk thought of her either. How odd. But comforting to know Enar saw past the pale wrapping of her skin. Until her brain weighed in on what being his forever meant.

“So if I can’t take this necklace off, does that mean we’re married?”

Goddess, she hoped not. Marriage had never been on her to-do list. Her parents’ constant bickering, fighting and general disinterest in each other had dissuaded her from being one of those girls who pined for a man. Not having a man pay her a whit of romantic attention helped cement the matter. And while Enar seemed to be helping with the top goal on her to-do list—leaving town—she didn’t want him to be the object of her heart’s desire. She didn’t want to form an attachment at all.