Feral Fever Read online

  My demise.

  Although the promise of her in a warrior's bed was enticing to a Royal Guard, add her healing powers and a warrior may think a new route to power unfurled before him. A strong wise warrior would judge his options carefully. But the process of balancing need from desire never proved painless. As this warrior began to see, oh sacred stars. I sighed and climbed over Aisling's soft curves.

  Seductive curves.

  I couldn't move where her body barely rose and fell against mine. Enticing me into betraying my better judgment.

  Every drop of my blood raced to my loins.

  What would it feel like to rub my hand down her delicate ribs to her woman's mound?

  Gods, if her eyes popped open, caught me in what appeared to be the act of mounting her, if she even remotely looked willing, I was doomed to buckle to my traitorous body. In no way could I then turn away from the bend in her hip where my hand begged to explore. Or the meadow scent in her hair.

  The mask. How so much protection of the self dwelled in that warrior's shield. I shoved off her toward the mask. A protective amulet of sorts. The one thing that reined in a warrior's emotions. Trapped behind it, a warrior recalled years of training. Years of learning self-control. Years of wondering what a life mated to a queen to breed was like. Some males proved weak and took other females to their sleeping furs. Undesirable females. Those of another caste. Commoners. But Royal Guards rarely squandered their right to noble alliances in doing so. Sometimes, a female would take pity on a queen's entire brood of male offspring, taking them all to mate. That tactic diffused tension among Royal Guards. But rarely did many males benefit from those alliances with the limited access to a mate and the potential for favoritism. Clinging to tradition's mask was wisest. I snatched the cumbersome metal and laid it near Aisling.

  Lying in the darkness didn't bring on peace even though I carefully stretched out where our bodies didn't touch. Time crept by. Even Jonner slept, unaffected by the waterfall's muted roar. But sleep evaded my aching groin. And the warriors were out there. We still had almost a full day's ride. Gods, when would Aisling awaken?

  She finally stirred, her hand reaching up to rub her eyes or temple.

  Good, we could depart at once.

  Her heartsong suddenly raced.

  She bolted upright into the tight space, knocking her head into the overhanging rock.

  What lunacy did the sacred stars witness in my existence today? I couldn't deal with another delay if she knocked herself unconscious. I reached for her. "Take care, Aisling."

  She gasped and fell onto her palms, crawling through the small gap above my waist, never returning my gaze.

  What was she doing? "Aisling."

  "I can't breathe," she gasped. "In here." She kneed my gut in an attempt to crawl over me.

  If she couldn't breathe now, she would collapse when she saw the waters far below their perch. I grabbed her ankle. "No, Aisling. Don't go there. Let me help you."

  She kicked.

  Like that would rid her of my handhold. I pulled her back to me, snaking my body around to match the length of hers.

  But she thrashed her hard limbs wildly as if she struggled for breath underwater. "Aisling," I whispered so not to spook her further.

  She punched my chest.

  "Enough," I barked and drew her dangerous curves so tightly against my body she couldn't move.

  She stiffened.

  As much as my loin did. Gods, maybe she didn't notice.

  She arched her neck back and shook her head wildly, never looking at me. "I can't breathe."

  "If you settled down, you'd realize you can speak because you are breathing," I whispered, grabbed a handful of her silken hair and hard head, and shoved her nose into the calming pulse of the crook of my neck.

  She still fought my grip.

  Whispering seemed to calm her though. I leaned against her ear, as well as her deadly tempting silken hair, and inhaled slowly. "Breathe, like me, Aisling," I whispered. "Feel my body as I breathe. Match it."

  Bless the stars for warrior masks. Without the protective metal between a female and a man's senses, there would be no peace in the land. This I know now that Aisling was lying with me. But I didn't wear my mask.

  She managed to mimic my breathing with one sharp inhalation, then exhaled slowly.

  That's the trick. I rubbed the back of her head and pulled her so tightly against me that I dared not inhale, or I might crush her.

  But she managed another deep breath.

  Oh, the softness of her hair. How does a warrior fight off an attack of his heart?

  * * * *

  Aisling overcame the hyperventilating from her claustrophobia with the stark realization that the warrior she'd become so fond of just saved her life again. The strong intelligent one who refused me, she thought. Hell, he smelled so good. Like warm spice.

  "We need to go when you can travel, Aisling. The Queen is waiting."

  The warm breath from his words tickled my ear.

  Just empty promises to dwell upon. Couldn't he just leave me alone? No. His Mother awaited. Just what did the Queen want from me anyway? "Why do you keep saving me?" I asked where my lips fluttered against his neck's warmth.

  Something extremely hard moved against my leg.

  His arousal. And he rejected me in my proposal! How could he deny his feelings toward me now packing that much attraction? And his damned mask wasn't on. After seeing the one warrior's face, something else obviously lay behind their function. The other warrior wasn't hideous, rather handsome for the most part. Borun would face me too. I tried to lean my head back, to look at him where we lay in the shadows.

  His grip didn't waver.

  "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

  Not when I finally got this warrior to wrap those massive muscles around me. "If I say no, what happens?"

  A low chuckle rumbled in his chest only to roll out like a deep throated growl. "We must go."

  Danger. So much for finding a trustworthy guy you could grow to love in a world where you had to mate and become a were-assassin. Trust seemed so fundamental in were-assassin relationships too. Why can't I have that one thing? He is obviously here, holding me against his desire. I shoved off his hard chest, pushing with everything I had.

  "Don't, Aisling."

  "Let me look at you. I need to tell you something. I need to explain."

  "You shouldn't." He sighed. "Don't look upon my face. It only creates problems."

  "Horse shit." I shoved harder against his iron arms. "For you, war-beast shit. I can tell you're attracted to me. So give it up. Or is your resistance to talk to me a sign of your true contradicted self? Maybe I was wrong about you. You're just a coward?"

  The low staccato of his growl rumbled to warn that I may have pushed the limit of acceptable subjects.

  His iron arms loosened around me.

  God, he is going to face me. After I insulted him. Maybe I changed his mind?

  My heart jigged a little.

  The pressure around me faded until I could push my head back about six inches. He didn't look down at me though. Or wouldn't. What kind of cultural constraints made these warriors hide their faces? Rather, what made that one earlier today force me to look upon his face? Enough of this madness. I shoved onto my elbows and scanned Borun's almost-human features, all consumed by shadow.

  His low growl threatened me to keep my distance.

  His scowling full lips…. A black, orange, and white beard only highlighted his squared jaw line. His ears were almost squared off around the upper edges. And above his human-like features, hovered the most expressive part of his face. Golden eyes, glowing with some wayward light that managed to reflect off of them inside this dark space like his eyes were full of a glittering golden protective curtain. Hiding something.

  Something deadly flickered in those glinting orbs that set my heart melting into an aching puddle.

  "I hear your heart, little one," he whispered.

&
nbsp; So he had some kind of extraordinary hearing. Or he was rubbing my nose in the fact I told him I felt his hard-on. Would he still deny his feelings for me now? I needed an ally. And here one stared me down. Big iron flag of truce with a phallus sewn upon it waving in the air. Good. I'd tell him everything and see how he felt about becoming a were-assassin. "Marshals mate with one person-"

  "Not likely here." He shook his head.

  "Goro warned me of that. But when Marshals mate, there's a blood exchange."

  His eyes squinted minutely. Curiously. "Why?"

  "To trigger something genetically inside the couple." I wagged my head. "It goes against everything I ever studied and believed on my home world. But it happens nonetheless." Would he even understand if I explained the sexual union between two psychics in love and the blood ingestion set off a genetic reaction? Like something chemical. But more spiritual.

  "And what does this blood link do?"

  Would he even want to have anything to do with me after he learns the particulars? His people were so warlike that it shouldn't matter if he got a few perks in the process of mating. Especially with a person you wanted to mate. And he was pretty up there in the area of wanting me. But lust was lust. "They call it blood lust."

  His head tilted right weighed down with curiosity as if demanding more information.

  "The binding creates a blood bond between the mates, a bond that keeps the mates together, pulling them together for the blood exchange. They crave each other and are almost inseparable. At least for long periods of time." Telling him more might be too much. "So I need a mate I can trust. One who doesn't behave like an animal."

  His eyes slowly closed, and he shook his head like a drop of water annoyed his brow. But he opened his shining eyes to stare me down again. "I'm low-caste, Aisling. Mother won't waste a marriage with me to you."

  What? "It's my choice. I'm the one with the bartering chip."

  He exhaled, with a slow shake of his head. "No, little one. You have no idea what's in store for you. I've seen high-caste daughters mated to fifteen warriors or an entire Royal Guard, to keep the peace. And with your Marshal and healer status, you are far rarer than my sister who my Mother decided must wed a Slaken prince. Mother is all about power. And I am of little consequence in her game. I am merely the means to deliver you safely into her service."

  Goro had to know about this freaking sexual free for all. As if I would agree to mate with a dozen males. Was that even possible with the blood bond? It couldn't be. Besides, I'm from earth. I mate with one person. Oh, God! Goro warned me about this.

  "What is that I see dancing in your eyes, little one?"

  Couldn't he tell? What would he say if I blurted unadulterated fear? Damn, I'll look like an idiot.

  The stone walls closed in around me.

  * * * *

  Borun watched as his charge's already pale face drained of color after she proposed her political alliance. Again.

  She gasped and gurgled for air beside me.

  Not again. I shouldn't have told her about Luvk marriages. I foolishly terrified her. For what? Now I needed to drive back her fear of a dark future. "No, Aisling. I'll help you. Please, stop worrying." I grabbed her arms and shook her to get her attention back to breathing. Blessed stars, promising such a hollow promise was lunacy. All I could do was explain how she could bend the mayhem around her. Adapt it to her use.

  But she kept gasping for air.

  Fine. All the air she could possibly require lay right beyond the cave opening, in the sunlight.

  Jonner studied us where he rested wedged halfway in sunlight at the cave's entrance.

  She just needed to get out of the cramped space. Then she could think with a clear head. "Mount."

  The war beast shuffled into the sunlight to disappear, finding a grip on the outer wall. I climbed over Aisling's flailing body, grabbed beneath her armpits, and dragged her on her back to the cave's edge.

  The waterfall's roar elevated with each of my placements of palm and knee.

  She just looked at me, gasping for air.

  Not only did I stuff her into the cave but I told her all about the marriages. And I've been stupid for not wearing my mask. I slung my mask over my shoulder, horns down, and grabbed her cheeks with both of my palms. "You must listen to me, Aisling. I need you to calm down. Jonner can take us back the same way he carried us here. But you must remain calm."

  Her breathing calmed a little beneath the blue sky.

  Maybe it's my touch? Or I'm growing too attached to her-as attached to her as she is to me. Did she stroke my pride with her propositions? Or am I as weak as the other warriors? It really mattered little given I had to return her to Mother. But I would complete my duty whether or not she was desperately gasping for breath or slung across my saddle. "I'll mount. Then, you will," I shouted into her ear above the fall's roar and slung a leg over Jonner's saddle with nary a thought in the process.

  The planet threatened to suck me down into the churning waters. I anchored my heels in the stirrups and reached for Aisling.

  She studied me for a moment but shoved onto her elbows.

  Not good. She caught a view of what lurked below. "Don't look at it, Aisling," I shouted and extended a hand.

  Did she hear me over the noise?

  Her gaze slid to my palm.

  What was she thinking? "Come to me, Aisling."

  Jonner shifted his grip, sliding closer to the cliff.

  She rose to her knees, shut her eyes, and took my hand.

  Bless the stars. I carefully pulled her light weight to the ledge's edge. But she'd have to open her eyes to climb into a seat before me.

  Her eyes popped open.

  All the wisdom of the ages seemed to stare back at me. Or she just contemplated death by drowning. I leaned backward a bit to show her she needed to sit before me in the saddle. That had to look safer than attempting an awkward maneuver to claim a seat behind me. Besides, there was no guarantee she could hold her own at that angle. I gave her hand a firm jerk.

  Her mouth pursed into a tight ball of determination. And she leapt.

  ?

  Chapter Six

  Stars' jest. Aisling jumped right into the saddle with me like a pouncing Royal Guard. But not straddling it like a sensible warrior. She faced me with both legs dangling over one side of the saddle, arms clutching my chest with her nose tucked safely into my neck. Like a lover offering a welcoming embrace.

  Jonner bounced.

  Curses. A swim looked in our near future. I willed my grip to remain steady.

  Jonner began climbing upward.

  Up or down. Either direction was fine given we needed to get off that accursed cliff.

  Aisling shifted her leg.

  Gods, sit still.

  "I feel like I'm slipping," she yelled.

  She wasn't. But how did you argue with a female who thought she was dying?

  She drew her leg up and snaked it past my body.

  Right to where she faced me squarely in the saddle, staring me down like my lover with her arms wrapped around my neck. The way we were tilted in the climb only compounded matters. Her legs hung aligned with Jonner's body. Not down the saddle with mine. More like gravity wrapped those long legs intimately around my waist.

  Would she ever stop staring me in the eye? And she seemed to enjoy the view of my face. I just need to don my damned mask.

  Jonner neared the cliff's top, pulling with his grip in the minutest cracks of the cliff.

  Never sooner. Hopefully, we'd make it to the Queen's palace by nightfall. We'd have to run the entire way. But a night alone with Aisling would prove a far greater battle than contradicting whatever Mother had planned.

  Jonner pulled us over the cliff's edge atop the side of the mountain and halted. The source of the falls lay higher up the mountainside where a substantial glacier melted throughout the summer, feeding the water at Jonner's feet with icy runoff.

  A little dip in the cold river seemed timel
y, especially with Aisling's curves leaning into my erection. She didn't seem to notice where she clung to my neck with those sky blue eyes burning holes through my soul.

  "Thank you for taking care of me," she said.

  My gut sank down until catching a ride on the roaring waters racing away from the mountain peak.

  Cold and lost wasn't good. But those words struck a far deeper chord. A warrior worth his merit wouldn't abandon her in this madness. "Honor and duty are everything, Aisling."

  A chill skittered through my body.

  And the more I heard her words resonate inside me, the more I knew I had to do something to save her from the Royal Guards. I had to save her for the sake of the clans through her proposition of a political alliance. And maybe a little bit just for myself. But Mother would never need to know that much. Mother would sit back and relish in how her handiwork pushed to unify the seven realms. How her most respected low-caste son had finally given her what she wanted, a political alliance through marriage. Maybe even an heir to the Starry Skies throne. And would marriage be so bad given I wed a female from another world who obviously had more convictions than Luvk females?

  Aisling's gaze slipped away, down to the space between our bodies, and back up to meet mine with a new determination. "Maybe you should just stop and feed me to the wolves. Let me go. Be done with me." Her gaze drifted off to the distant treetops stretching out on the horizon toward the other realms. "Goro wouldn't have sent me here if he didn't think I could handle this duty."

  A hint of sadness in her voice pleaded for help.

  You won't have to do it alone, little one. I grabbed her cheeks, turned her mouth to mine, and planted my lips across the softest flesh I'd ever felt.

  Her body melted into mine like the ice melting from the upper limit of the Starry Sky realm to race down the mountainside in one grand deluge of jolting energy. Those lips returned a passion no high-caste female would ever feel for me or could feel for any of the Royal Guards because those females cared nothing for anything but their rank. But Aisling wasn't from this world. She wasn't like any of the Queens. And with each of her tongue's tickling explorations of the seam of my lips, I knew more than anything that nobody could save her. No one but me.