Page 50 of Bonded By Savages

“Yes,” I say.“But what happens to them next?”I don’t want to worry the women, so I telepath the comment.

“Halt!” comes the deep voice from the entrance. I turn and see the guard in battle stance, his legs wide, his hand above his blade.

“You have no right to halt me. We come under the orders of Priest Rataro himself,” comes the cold voice, and I see the triad of brutal Aurelians with brands on their foreheads.

Damian and Tarak have already moved, putting their bodies between me and the door, so that I can only see through the crack between their big bulks.

Their auras grow cold, not angry, but ready, and I feel the alien warriors prepared for war.

19

Damian

Ilook at the triad with hatred, because I feel the yellow, sickly fear in my Mate’s aura. No man has the right to cause fear to the woman I am honor-bound to protect.

“Let them pass,” I order, because I’m not going to let this young guard die…

And I want to have an ally behind the Priests. If it comes to battle, I have to trust these six will stand by my side.

“It’s not this triad we have to worry about,”cautions Tarak. Days ago, he would have lost himself to rage, but his aura is quick and clever, judging the situation accurately. Our Mate gave him that, and I suppress a growl, because he’s right.

We cut these three down, there’s a thousand more behind them, and men with brands on their foreheads are off-limits.

The three men walk in, arrogant, not even bringing their hands to their blades. They feel protected by the brands on their heads. “I am Adept Bejolin. I come under direct orders from Priest Rataro.”

“What orders?”

He smiles at me. “They are healthy. They are coming with us, to be given to loyal soldiers.”

I can feel the vein in my forehead pulsing as white-hot rage boils in me. I’m faster than ever before. I could cut down the three of them before they could blink, and yet they speak to me as an inferior to be ordered around.

“We earned these women. By the Old Ways. Their Fate is ours.”

Bejolin’s smile disappears.

“Please. I’m begging you. Don’t let them take them.”Athena’s voice whispers through my mind. Through her terror is her purity and goodness. If I can’t save these women…

She will never love me.

She will never be able to trust me to protect her.

I can’t think. I’m breathing heavy, anger overwhelming me, when Tarak steps forward. “Yes, of course. Priest Rataro’s orders.”

“Good. Then step aside.”

Tarak raises his hands, far from his blade. The fool. Doesn’t he realize how close we are to a fight?

“Why do you think we are? We too are here on Priest Rataro’s command, just ten minutes ago.”

“What game is this?”

“We spoke with Priest Rataro directly. By all the laws of the Old Ways, we own them, but as a gesture of our respect the priests, we agreed they be given to worthy men. Priest Rataro himself picked these two triads to keep them.”

Bejolin’s lip trembles. He can’t call us liars, not to our face, because not even the brand on his forehead would stop us from cutting him down, and he knows it.

Bejolin growls in frustration. He is a weak Aurelian, unable to hide his emotions. He looks over at the women, licking his lips, and I know he thought he would be rewarded with at least one. Every sense is heightened. I can hear one of the women crawling back in her bed, trying to get as far away as possible from the Fanatics.

“Priest Rataro is outside. I’ll get him…to confirm that you understood his orders correctly,” he says, the closest thing he can do to call us liars without me drawing my blade and cutting him down. He turns, stalking out, while his other two men stand, their eyes flicking to us and then to the two triads. They aren’t at ease anymore. They’re in battle stance, their hands over their blades, knowing one wrong move will lead to their death.

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