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Pathfinder's Way(83)
Author: T.A. White

He could force her.

Like hell.

He had never had to force a woman in his life. They came to him. Begged to be let into his bed and protested when he ordered them to leave when he was finished.

No, she’d come to him of her own will. That meant physical punishment was out.

He couldn’t let this insult go, though. He’d be a laughing stock in front of the men and sooner or later the clan heads would use it as an excuse to try to force him from his position. It wouldn’t work just as their last attempt hadn’t, but in the meantime, it would be tedious to deal with.

He reached down and carefully lifted her. She slept through the transition, settling into his arms more firmly. His chest tightened at the sensation before he pushed it away and headed to the bed chamber. He needed to think on her punishment. It wouldn’t do to rush these things. No, the punishment would have to be perfect.

 

 

Shea felt warm and comfortable as she drifted up from sleep. When had they gotten such comfortable mattresses in the scouts’ transient tents? It had been so long since she’d slept on a decent mattress. Months, at least.

She stretched and rolled onto her stomach. Or tried to at least. An iron band around her chest kept her pinned on her side

Lifting her head, she looked blearily down her body, coming more awake at the sight of a bronzed arm wrapped around her ribs, right under her breasts. A muscled leg was thrown over hers.

All traces of sleep fell away, and she put her head back down as she cursed silently. She ran through her memories of the previous day. Fallon had discovered her identity. For someone who seemed hell bent on capturing her, he hadn’t been that pleased when she turned up right under his very nose.

He’d left her to her own devices for hours. The afternoon had fallen into night and driven by a stomach that hadn’t seen much food in the past few days, Shea had finally eaten some of the meal. Fed, her body had decided it was time to catch up on rest. She’d curled up on some rugs as they were the softest surface in the tent besides the bed in the personal chambers, and she wasn’t getting near that.

Shea examined the fur covering her and looked around. She recognized the furnishings from her visit yesterday.

Well, just because he had carried her to bed didn’t mean she had to stay there. She shifted carefully under the weight of his limbs as she started edging toward freedom.

“Trying to escape again?” a deep voice rumbled next to her ear.

She froze.

His arms tightened, bringing her body more firmly against his. Her face burned as a very firm body part nudged her ass. She tested his hold but gave up quickly when his arm and leg didn’t budge.

“Not very talkative this morning, are you?” his amused voice asked. “I’m sure we can find other things to fill our time.”

One thumb caressed the side of her breast, leaving no question as to his meaning.

Shea found her voice quickly. “Is this how you treat all the people who save your life?”

“Of course not.” He bit her ear gently and a shiver worked its way down her body. “Just the tiny, delicate ones who think they can disguise themselves as a boy.”

“So you need rescuing a lot, then? Your poor army. It’s a wonder they ever managed to conquer the Lowlands if they always have to worry about your safety.”

Shea could have bitten her tongue at those words. She didn’t know what possessed her, but whenever she was around him the filter that normally existed between her brain and mouth seemed to disappear.

His arms tightened around her momentarily before his chuckle rumbled against her back.

“What do you plan to do with me?” Shea asked sharply.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

It was difficult to keep her concentration on the conversation at hand when his fingers were drawing maddening symbols on the shirt covering her belly. It was distracting. She wished they could have this conversation in slightly different circumstances. Maybe when they weren’t touching. Preferably with an entire room between them.

One of his large hands drifted up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. She was beginning to get the unsettling idea of what he wanted. He’d have a fight on his hands if that was the case.

“Would you stay with me? Be my Tolroi?”

A gentle kiss dropped on the side of her neck. Shea shivered as lightning arched across her skin.

Through suddenly dry lips, she said, “Your mistress, you mean?”

The Trateri didn’t marry, not in the sense the Lowlanders and Highlanders did. They didn’t often see the point in tying themselves to only one person for the rest of their lives, instead preferring one night liaisons for the most part. Occasionally though, one would choose a partner, a Telroi, who would bare their children and share their tent on a more permanent basis. More often they took a Tolroi. In the Lowlands, the closest equivalent would be a mistress. It was often a more temporary relationship then a Telroi.

Either position was considered a great honor. Doubly so when the man offering was the Trateri’s Hawk himself. Shea didn’t want to be honored. She just wanted to be left alone to do her job.

“That is a Lowlander term,” Fallon growled behind her.

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t-“ Shea couldn’t think of a polite way to decline. “I just want to be a scout.”

“I’m afraid that path is closed to you.”

She huffed. Because of him. Because she’d saved his ass. Again.

She held her body stiffly, making it clear she wanted to be anywhere but in his arms. His sigh ruffled her hair and slid across her skin.

His arms loosened, and Shea rolled out of them, not giving him a chance to change his mind. She spun to face him after standing. His head was propped on one hand, his gaze a physical brand on her.

“Since you refuse to be my Tolroi, you’ll continue in the role I originally planned for you.”

He didn’t mean—

The slightly smug expression on his face said he did. Shea had never stomped her foot before in her life, but right at that moment she came close.

“You want me to be your personal guard?” Her voice rose slightly on the last word.

His lips tilted up in a roguish grin. Son of a misbegotten revenant, he did.

“Why?”

The grin fell from his lips, leaving the ruthless warlord behind. Shea stepped away from the fierce expression. This was the man who had burnt Edgecomb and several other villages to the ground and then salted the earth. Those places had been devastated to the point where nothing would grow for years. In another generation nobody would even know they’d existed, such was the devastation he had wrought.

“Because it’s what I want.”

And there was the rub. This entire army revolved around his whims. If he wanted to camp in the middle of a river, they’d figure out a way to make it happen.

Her shoulders sagged in defeat, and her eyes dropped to the ground

“Trenton is waiting outside to run you through what is expected of you,” Fallon said.

Shea nodded and moved towards the door. His voice brought her up short.

“You’re known to many soldiers now. Trying to disguise yourself as a boy to escape won’t work again. If you try to run, I will have the three other men in your team stripped, flogged and then dragged behind the army until we next make camp.”

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