The Nymph King (Atlantis #3)(42)

She paled once again, a lovely ice queen. He drank in her snowy beauty.

"Promise me," he said again, tenderly this time.

Her expression softened ever so slightly. "Fine. I promise. But only for the fight. The fight I don't want you to participate in. After that... "

Satisfied, he looked to Broderick. "When I return, I want her in the same condition I have left her. Not a single bruise."

"As if I would ever hurt a woman," his friend grumbled.

"As if I would allow him to hurt me," Shaye said, her chin tilted stubbornly.

Broderick arched his brows, a who-is-this-woman expression on his face. Valerian fought a grin.

The brunette at Broderick's side pointed an accusing finger at Shaye. "I don't like you standing near Broderick."

Shaye rolled her eyes.

Broderick regained his amusement and grinned. "Rissa is possessive of me, what can I say?"

"Just make sure she keeps her hands off Shaye."

"I can take her," Shaye said. Her dark brown eyes glowed with challenge.

"I know you can, moon, but if you were to hurt her I would owe Broderick another woman." He clasped her delicate shoulders in his hands and rubbed her arms. Brave, sweet thing. "I would rather not have another battle on my hands."

Shaye's lips pressed in a mutinous line, and she peered down at the sands. At least she didn't offer another rejoinder.

He wanted to kiss her just then, to thrust his tongue into her mouth and feel her heat, her wetness. Taste her sweetness. He couldn't. Not yet. Not again. Not with Joachim's challenge hanging over their heads.

"Valerian!" a female squealed from behind his mate. "Valerian!"

His muscles stiffened. Damn it! Already Shaye resisted him, and she'd made her dislike of his past lusts very clear. Yet now, heading straight toward him, was one of the three women from the other night. She shoved her way through the crowd, swathes of red hair trailing behind her.

"My sweet king. I came to wish you well."

Shaye, too, stiffened - before she was shouldered out of the way. He scowled, was about to issue a stinging rebuke, but the redhead's hands were suddenly caressing his bare chest, lingering over every curve and hollow, pulling gently at his nipple ring, then riding the ridges of his abdomen and cupping his backside.

"I just heard about the fight, and wanted to cheer for you."

"Isn't this special," Shaye said, an airy breeze to her tone. "A Lust family reunion."

Eyeing the newcomer, Valerian said, "Our association is at an end, sweet." He kept his tone gentle, not wanting to inflict unnecessary hurt. He felt guilty for not learning her name. "Joachim is your lover now. Warm his bed this night, for he will need all the loving he can get."

Her pink lips dipped into a pout, and she traced her fingertip over his navel. "I don't want to warm his bed. Joachim didn't please me like you always do."

"Did. Always did. I have a mate now," he reminded her. His guilt increased.

"You can please more than one woman at a time, I know for a fact. The three of us can - "

"This conversation is boring." Shaye sighed, but the breathy exhalation held a sharp bite. "I believe your cousin is ready to cut your head off. You might want to hurry out there."

Jaw clenched, Valerian wrapped his hands around the clinging redhead's waist and handed her to one of his men. Whom, he didn't care. She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand for silence. Instead of simply quieting her, everyone in the arena stopped speaking.

He did not want an audience for the conversation he needed to have with Shaye. "I will speak with you about this later," he said, his eyes only for her.

She shrugged as if she didn't care, but she couldn't hide the fire in her gaze.

He had to force back a chuckle of satisfaction. His woman did not like others to handle him. She might deny it, but he knew women very well. She was jealous.

Finally, something was going right in this seduction.

"Are you, at last, ready to begin?" Joachim demanded behind him.

With a final glance at Shaye, he turned. It was time. Joachim stood in the center of the sandy arena, swinging a spear over his head, loosening his muscles. The metal whistled and zinged in the air like a war cry. In his other hand, he held a silver shield. Except for the color, Valerian's shield was exactly the same, with two wings embossed on each side. In the center of both shields rested a sword.

Joachim replaced his helmet, covering his skull and ears. The movement caused his armor to glint.

Valerian held his hand out, and Broderick slapped a spear into his grip. He felt its familiar weight, nodded. Broderick then handed him a shield. He handed it right back. "Remove The Skull from the center and replace it with another sword," he commanded.

"But, my lord, you have never - "

"Do it." He had never used a sword other than his own, but he did not want to inflict irreparable damage to his cousin, and that was what The Skull would do.

He didn't want Joachim to die. As Joachim had pronounced earlier, they had been friends as children. The best of friends. Then Valerian's father died and Valerian had to take control, become leader. That was when Joachim's resentment first sprouted.

Valerian wanted his cousin to live, forever an example of what happened to those who challenged the king.