Chapter 3 #2
She took a breath to calm herself, then asked, “And how do they expect me to get home if I must always be accompanied?” She wiped the tears that welled up.
“I was accompanied by an armed escort! They died defending us.” She paused.
“And when was the mayor going to inform me of his decision, since he won’t talk to me directly?
” She paused again and took a deep breath to calm her frustration.
“He would have to inform me, is that not correct? Because my mates are not here.”
Gallick gave her a calm, cool look of offended dignity. “The mayor sent the sheriff to inform the Fangrys household to send another escort to see you and the youngling home.” He glanced at Zul. “Warrior, have you seen other rosvoi in the area?”
Zul looked down at Gallick from his greater height. The other male flinched beneath the berserker’s silent dominance. Zul replied, “I have not, but I will escort the Prima and her youngling home. I will ensure their safety.”
Gallick’s gaze flickered to the boy who played quietly on his mat. Zul knew the boy was listening.
Gallick’s expression turned suspicious. “You look like a rosvo yourself.”
Zul absorbed the implied accusation without anger. He nodded, a single dip of his chin, in acknowledgement of his less than reputable appearance. “My bonded were killed in combat long ago.”
“Many rosvoi were once bonded,” the restaurateur pointed out.
Zul admired the smaller male for that stubborn, selfless courage and acknowledged the truth of his statement. He pressed his fist to his chest and quietly declared, “I lost my bonded. That does not mean I also lost my honor.”
“Well,” Ursula interjected herself into the conversation, “as the only available representative of the cen’Vyr triad, I will see that you receive a good meal, a clean bed, coin, and a bath in appreciation.”
Zul’s nostrils flared. “I do not seek your coin.”
“If you’ve been wandering about for a while—” she let her gaze run over his dusty, much-mended garb, “—and it looks like you have—then you are obviously in need of funds.” She jutted her chin at him. “You will accept payment.”
Gallick groaned.
With cool dignity, Zul replied, “I have adequate funds, Prima. I have simply not accessed them lately.”
She huffed and turned away from the two males, muttering, “Stupid, prideful men. They always think they know best.”
Gallick threw him a long-suffering glance in a moment of male solidarity. Zul stifled a chuckle. He was prideful.
“Prima, I will remain with you until your mates return,” he declared. “It was ill done of the Council Supreme to command both your mates to duty and leave you without adequate supervision.”
“Supervision?” she echoed, eyes narrowing in outrage. “I am a competent, intelligent adult and fully capable of—”
“Protection,” he amended with a small, one-shouldered shrug.
A shiver of pure fury rippled through her.
Zul thought it both magnificent and charming.
He understood why the cen’Vyr triad had claimed her: she had fire.
He wondered if she burned as brightly when being fucked, then shoved that dishonorable thought aside before he succumbed to the urge to find out.
Gallick backed away, apparently familiar with the Prima’s temper tantrums.
“If you weren’t so damned big …” she hissed, propping her fists on her hips. She wanted to poke him in the chest, but the heated gleam in his black eyes stayed her hand.
Zul’s hand itched to touch her, to cup her cheek in his palm. He clenched both hands into fists.
The door opened and two males entered, one tall, slender, and officious looking and the other obviously a servant. Still fulminating, Ursula turned her attention toward them and forced herself to speak in a polite tone, “Welcome, Mayor. How may I help you?”
The male in charge turned his thin face to her, frowning at her for having the audacity to speak to him directly.
Ursula sniffed. “Get over yourself. Gil and Bran aren’t here, so you’ll just have to speak to me directly.”
Zul stepped forward, drawing himself as tall and imposing as possible, which was very. While he’d enjoyed tweaking the lovely female’s temper, the mayor’s dismissive attitude toward her irritated him. So, he took charge. “In the absence of her mates, I will represent the Prima of Fangrys.”
Ursula’s indrawn hiss of outrage gratified him. He interposed himself between the female and the mayor.
“And who are you?” the mayor inquired, his gaze taking in Zul’s dusty, mended clothes and dismissing him as unimportant.
Once again, Zul identified himself. “I am Zullar cen’Gyrah, Third of the Uk’khadir Triad.”
The mayor’s eyes widened in surprise even as his servant muttered, “The hero of Horwill’an!”
Zul loathed that appellation. It reminded him of the day his bonded had been killed in battle.
The mayor’s expression conveyed his disappointment. He expected more from an illustrious hero than worn boots, clothing near to rags, and scarred horns that needed a good polishing. “And how do we know you speak the truth?”
Zul growled. The menacing sound made Gallick squeak and flee.
A sweet bouquet rose in the air from the beauty behind him.
His growl lowered, nearly becoming a purr at the fragrance of her arousal.
The mayor’s expression soured further, although whether at scenting Ursula’s physical response to a mighty male equal to her mates or at the warrior’s own affront, only he knew.
“The Prima will close this shop and remain home until I am assured no other rosvoi are in the area and her mates return to provide proper escort,” the mayor intoned.
“This is my shop, and you can’t close it!” Ursula protested. “I have broken no law!”
The mayor met Zul’s black eyes with a supercilious glare. Apparently, he expected an itinerant wanderer to exert authority over a high caste female mated to two highborn warriors. “The female is impertinent.”
Zul nodded. He turned to command the female’s attention.
“What?” she snapped, upper lip lifting in a sneer.
The contempt in her voice raised his ire, but he forced calm upon himself. “Prima, do you require the income from this business?”
She began to shake her head, then caught herself and protested, “It’s mine.”
The youngling whimpered and buried his face in the folds of her skirts.
Zul gave her a steady, unblinking look. A rosy flush brightened her cheeks as she averted her gaze and stroked her son’s head.
The change of color fascinated him, and he wondered what it meant.
Was it a common trait of human-Urib hybrids?
Or was it special to humans only? Did her skin flush that wonderful rosy color when she orgasmed?
He wanted to find out. Zul clenched his fists again, and his tail twitched.
He turned around once again to address the mayor. “We will finish unpacking her wares, then I will escort the Prima and her son home. Contact the sheriff to inform him Fangrys need not send a new escort.”
Zul caught the small, inarticulate sound of rage in her throat but knew she would not defy him.
Her compliance satisfied something deep within him.
It settled him—at least for the moment. He practically heard her consider a delaying tactic: making the unpacking and display of her wares take all day.
“Do not tarry,” the mayor said as if he’d heard her thoughts, too. “I will send the sheriff to accompany you and ensure their safe delivery home.”
Zul nodded, acknowledging the mayor’s distrust. An unbonded warrior, especially a berserker, did not deserve wholehearted trust. They were too unstable, too prone to devolving into mindless violence and brutality.
“Glory to your house, Zullar cen’Gyrah,” the mayor intoned with a nod.
“And prosperity to yours,” Zul replied politely.