Chapter 23 Jasmine
Jasmine
Ishould have been enraged by his assumption that he could take what he wanted, especially since what he intended on taking for himself was me. But the possessive words that should have prompted me to slap him across the face only stole the breath from my lungs.
“What about not taking what isn’t freely given?” I managed to ask once I’d snatched a breath.
One of his dark brows lifted almost imperceptibly.
“You remember that? Maybe you weren’t so drunk, after all.
” He hadn’t dropped his hand from where it cupped my jaw, and his gaze lingered on my mouth as his tail curled around one of my calves.
“You can protest all you want, Jasmine, but that doesn’t change the fact that your body begs for me. ”
I twitched from his grasp, rage finally finding me anew. “It does not!”
He snaked an arm around my waist to keep me from gaining too much distance, even as his tail slid further up my leg. “Your eyes are as dark as coal, your breath is shallow, and I suspect that if I let my tail continue to wander, I would find that you’re wet and ready for me.”
I glanced down, suddenly very aware that the furry tip of his tail seemed to be vibrating as it moved up my inner thigh. I clamped my legs together as best as I could and pressed my palms to his chest. “You wouldn’t dare.”
It was impossible not to notice that his black pupils had swallowed almost all the gold in his eyes, and his quivering lips had stretched into a hungry grin. “You can fight me all you wish, my little rebel. I’ll still have your legs wrapped around me in the end.”
“That’s what you think.” If I wasn’t focusing all my energy on keeping his tail locked between my legs, I would have made a valiant attempt to knee him in the groin.
Had the battle fired some hunting instinct in him, or had he been serious about making me his war bride and wasn’t one to waste any time?
A deep laugh rumbled his chest. “That’s what I know.” Then his tail uncoiled from my leg and his arm relaxed, slipping to my hip. “But I’m willing to let you believe you’re in control a little while longer.”
I spluttered my outrage even as my heart thrummed and my chest heaved. “Are all Vandar warlords so frostbitten cocky?”
“Frostbitten cocky?” He appeared genuinely amused.
“Something we say on Lexxona.” I flapped an impatient hand at him. “Are you all so arrogant?”
“Arrogant?” He considered this. “We are not arrogant. To be arrogant implies bravado. I pretend to be nothing I am not.”
I huffed out a breath as I muttered cocky under my breath.
“To be a warlord of the Vandar you must be sure. You must be brave. You must be certain of your actions because they determine the life or death of an entire horde of ships, thousands of raiders.”
That stopped me. I hadn’t spent much time thinking about his responsibilities. “Oh.” Then I gave a small shake of my head. “Why would you want that?”
He straightened, growing even taller, if that was possible. “I come from a long line of brave raiders. It is an honor to lead my people in our mission.”
“But you’re the first Raas in your family?” I asked, suddenly curious if warlords were inherited positions. “It isn’t passed down from father to son?”
Something flashed behind his eyes, but it was gone before I could identify it. “Some families have a long line of warlords, but I am the first in my clan. My father was killed in battle by the Zagrath before he reached the rank of Raas.”
“How old were you?” I asked before I could think better of it.
“Too young to avenge his death.” His voice became dark and dangerous. “But I have made the Zagrath pay for it with their blood many times over.”
The image of so much blood made my stomach churn, and I was rendered speechless.
“I lost my mother long before my father and there were only ever the three of us, so the horde is my only family. My life has been devoted to leading and protecting my horde and carrying out our sworn mission.”
Not cockiness about everything then, I thought, wishing for a moment that the leaders of my colony had cared half as much for the colonists as Wrexxon cared for his horde.
“That still doesn’t mean you aren’t cocky when it comes to me,” I said, although my words carried no heat.
His severe expression softened, and he stepped closer to me, putting a hand on my hip and leaning down to whisper, “We will see, little rebel.”
Before I could tell him not to call me that, his door beeped. I backed away from him, nearly tripping in my haste to put distance between us and despising the fact that my face flamed. By contrast, Wrexxon appeared completely unruffled.
He straightened and his face was a mask of control once more. "Vaes!”
The door glided open, and the Vandar he’d called majak entered. The raider’s gaze shifted between me and the Raas, questioning and tentative.
“I was explaining to our guest that she’s the reason the Zagrath are so intent on our horde,” Wrexxon said, his tone casual, as if his tail hadn’t been pinned between my thighs only moment earlier.
The majak's brow furrowed. “You told—?”
“She needed to understand why she was taken and why she will remain with me.” Wrexxon cut him off sharply. “Do you have a report?"
The majak's expression shifted immediately, discipline overriding whatever he'd been about to say. He squared his shoulders. "Yes, Raas. We've analyzed the Imperial ships' trajectory and intercepted communications further. We believe we know where they're heading and why.”
A pause, heavy and ominous as Wrexxon leaned forward.
"They're going after another name on their list."
Wrexxon stiffened. “Tvekking hell.”
A shiver went through me as I thought of another rebel the Empire had marked for death. How many did the Vandar think they could save? Then another thought struck me. “You don’t take them all as war brides, do you?”
Both warriors stared at me then exchanged a startled glance.
“The Vandar do not keep harems of brides like the Denvari,” Wrexxon growled. “I will only ever take one war bride, one Raisa.”
I avoided his gaze and the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. And he was certain that bride was me.
The Raas’s majak glanced at the tablet in his hands. “Also, the rebel the Zagrath are now hunting is named Aldric, one of the many reasons he would be an unsuitable war bride for a Vandar.”
“Don’t knock it ’til you try it,” I said under my breath, a part of me hoping Wrexxon would hear me and be supremely annoyed.