His bride stumbled on the steps but he didn’t even slow; he dragged her on her knees to the top of them. This caused me to take in a sharp breath and then I felt it.
Something coming from the Dax. Something not good.
I tore my eyes away from the bleeding, vile warrior whose new wife was at her knees by his side, his blood and probably others, considering her beauty, all over her naked body, to look at the Dax.
He gave nothing away. His expression had not changed and his body was held loose and relaxed. And somehow I knew his not giving this man anything was taking away what that man most wanted. He wanted the Dax to look angry or alert to the obvious threat he posed.
But the Dax wasn’t giving him even that.
Still, my new husband did not like this guy. I could sense it.
My eyes snapped back to the warrior when I heard his bride cry out in pain. Then I froze in horror when I saw he was pulling her up by her hair.
Unless I missed it, he didn’t give the Dax a chin jerk or me a bow. Instead, he positioned his new bride in front of his body, kicked her legs apart with his foot, then his arm circled her as his other hand stayed clenched in her hair, clearly in a painful way for both her hands had wrapped around his wrist and her stunning face was twisted in distress. Then his torso bent low, his hand moving from her waist, to her belly, down, over her sex, curling in…
My eyes shot to the Dax as I heard her whimper.
He did not look at me. His face was set to blank and his eyes were glued to the warrior. They were up, not down, not watching what he was doing but locked on the warrior’s face.
Then I watched his lip curl.
But I didn’t feel the warrior move away though I heard his woman keep whimpering.
He was still hurting her.
I couldn’t allow it. After what had happened to me that night, to Narinda, to all those frightened girls out there who had been claimed on rough rocks by savage warriors, I couldn’t allow it. Not this. What we’d endured was humiliating, this was beyond that.
I had to do something.
“Stop him,” I whispered to the Dax but he didn’t tear his eyes away from the warrior. “Stop him,” I repeated but he ignored me. Hesitantly, not wanting to do it, never wanting to touch him but spurred on by the girl’s whimpers and fresh memories of my own nightmare, I reached out a hand and wrapped my fingers around his wrist. “Stop him,” I implored.
At my touch, the Dax’s head turned, his dark eyes dropped to my hand then they lifted to my face. I saw them move over my features but he gave me nothing. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I had no clue.
When the whimpers continued, I moved my hand to his, curled my fingers around, shook it, leaned in and begged, “Please, please, stop him.”
The Dax stared at me.
God, he had no idea what I was saying.
Or worse, he didn’t care.
Then, suddenly, his head turned to the warrior and he said something to him in a low voice that included two words I knew, “Kah Lahnahsahna” and one that struck me, “Dahksahna”.
“Tooyo!” was the response spit from the warrior and that got a reaction.
The Dax’s face went hard.
Uh-oh.
My hand slid away.
He was freaking scary normally but when his face went hard like that…
Yikes.
“Tooyo?” he asked softly.
“Tooyo!” the warrior repeated, I pulled my eyes away from the Dax and wished I didn’t.
The warrior was working the girl with his fingers, right there, right in front of us and for all who could see. She was not enjoying it, not even a little bit, her face stained with tears, her body twisting madly to get away.
The instant my eyes took it in, I didn’t even attempt to hold it back.
I tensed and shouted, “Stop it!”
The warrior’s eyes sliced to me and he smiled a cruel smile but he did… not… stop.
I jumped from my seat and screamed, “Stop it!”
“Tooyo!” he shot back at me and that was it.
The Dax was out of his seat, the woman ripped from his hands and thrown at me. I caught her in my arms as the Dax moved on the warrior. The warrior shifted to deflect him but without any apparent effort and so fast the warrior didn’t even begin to defend himself, the Dax rammed his hand, palm first, fingers wrapping around, into the man’s throat, lifted the huge guy right off his feet, took two long strides and threw him down all ten steps, the man flying through the air to land on his back at the base of the dais.
That’s right… threw him. He threw an enormous, grown man through the air down ten steps.
Holy crap!
The Dax stood at the top step looking down and then his rough voice rumbled through the drum filled night when he called, “Kah Dahksahna me ahnoo.”
The warrior scrambled to his feet, the Dax’s body tensed to alert, the crying woman in my arms shoved closer into my body, my arms tightened around her but other than that, I stood stock-still.
They went into stare down and this lasted awhile before the warrior spit on the steps and stalked away.
The Dax turned and, without looking at me or the girl, he moved back to his throne and sat. Two women bustled up the steps and laid gentle hands on the girl, pulling her away from me then to the side of the dais then they ducked into the crowd after they reached the bottom of the steps.
“Kah Dahksahna,” I heard the Dax say from behind me, I turned and caught his painted eyes.
They were burning into mine. Then they looked at my throne and back at me.
Guess it was time for me to sit back down.
I took in a shuddering breath and slowly lowered myself to the pad under the Dax’s black gaze. Once my ass was to the pad, he turned away and jerked his chin at the next warrior.
And then the wedding rite continued like nothing happened.
No joke.
Like nothing happened.
God, I had to get out of this place.
Chapter Four
The Golden Dynasty
Three days later…
“Kah Dahksahna, shalah dahnay,” the woman implored, her hand resting light on my hip over the silk sheet.
My head was to pile of silk pillows; my eyes were open and unseeing. I could feel the soft hides under my body. The light, silk sheet was down around my waist but I was covering my naked breasts with my arm.
And I wanted to die.
Every day, I didn’t wake up at home. Three nights of sleep, three days of waking up and I wasn’t going home. Three days of waking up to the attentions of the king. Three nights of being woken to more attention when he arrived back at the tent.
There were no murmured words of tenderness, even ones I didn’t understand. There was no attempt at foreplay. No cuddling afterward. He didn’t hold me in his sleep. He just turned me to my belly, yanked me up to my knees, used me, pulled out, dropped down beside me and fell asleep (or, in the mornings, after he took me, he got up, dosed himself with water from a jug, pulled on his hides without even toweling off and prowled out).
