Page 32 of Warlord's Mate
She wasn’t sure what he was saying to his men, her attention was so focused on his hands as they rested on the humans’ shoulders and the way he was standing so close to them. Where had he found them and what was he going to do with them?
He turned suddenly, his gaze landing on her for a brief moment before he headed across camp. The females were herded toward the pond and she imagined the warlord watching them bathe as he’d done her. Something tugged at her chest thinking about it and she couldn’t get the thoughts of him standing on the banks of the pond watching them out of her head until the two girls were brought back into camp by Jityria and shown to the females hut and told that’s where they would sleep.
The relief Marcy felt was so profound, she was dizzy and had to brace her head in the palm of her hand—then puzzled at why she felt so relieved to begin with.
Because you like him.
Marcywatched the newcomers as the words whispered through her head. Did she like him? She’d been there for weeks now and although she hated being a possession to someone or made to serve ungrateful aliens, she didn’t hate knowing regardless of what happened, the warlord would keep her safe. He’d come for her when that huge orange alien and his friends had tried to take her, had even carried her all the way back to camp as if he cared and had given her a look afterwards that made her wonder if maybe, he did.
But now he was bringing new humans into his little harem of women. Marcy looked over at them. Both girls stared around camp, looking at the aliens who were staring back at them. The black-haired girl wasn’t Emma. She’d never seen her before, nor had she ever seen the blonde that was with her. Both women looked like they hadn’t eaten in days.
“Are you hungry?”
The blonde looked at her like she’d said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard, her lip curling before she said, “What do you think? We’ve been running scared for days and I’ve yet to see a burger joint out in these woods.”
Okay. Let’s take the blonde off our potential friend’s list.
“I’ll take anything you have,” the black-haired girl said. “I’d eat a bug at this point.”
Marcy reached into one of the baskets they used for foraging. Several of the large blue roots Cayen cooked were sitting in it waiting to be cleaned and cut. She picked out two of the largest ones and motioned to one of the water bladders hanging from a spike on the side of the hut. “Here.” She held her arm out, offering the roots. “These taste nothing like a bacon cheeseburger but it’ll fill the empty spot in your belly. There’s water hanging behind you to wash them with.”
The black-haired girl took one and mumbled a soft, “Thank you,” before turning to wash it, then took a bite. Her nose scrunching as she chewed. “It’s not great but tastes better than a bug.”
Marcy motioned to the short stools they sat on. “Have a seat.” She looked at the blonde. “Both of you.”
The blonde bit into her washed root and gave her a look she was all too familiar with. Her best friends sister back home had the same attitude most of the time. Whenever she was scared or confused, she’d lash out and if Marcy had to guess, she’d say that’s what this girl’s problem was. She was scared shitless and tried to hide it by being a bitch.
“I’m Marcy.” She introduced them to the others, then motioned across camp toward Jityria. “I’d stay away from that one as much as you can. She has a bad attitude and isn’t scared to show it.”
The black-haired girl sat down and sighed. “I’m Krista.” She glanced at the blonde. “And that’s Dawn.” She stared at those in camp for a long time before clearing her throat. “So,” she took another bite of the blue turnip root. “How do these aliens decide who gets to mount you first? They draw straws or just fight for you?”
Dawn took a seat beside Celestia. “And how hard do they hit if you fight back?”
Tezhila’s cheeks darkened as she looked at Celestia and Sebera. “Don’t fight back.” Her voice was soft, her eyes cast downward. “Don’t ever fight back.”
Marcy’s attention was drawn to that scar on the side of Tezhila’s neck. Is that how she got it? Had one of the brutes here in camp done it when she didn’t lay down and submit like a good little slave?
Dawn looked over Marcy’s shoulders and grinned. “I wouldn’t fight that one.”
For some reason, Marcy knew who Dawn was talking about without even looking. There was only one man—alien—here that would cause the current look on her face and that was the warlord.
Dawn continued to smile as she stared across camp and something in her eyes made her look arrogant, as if looking at him was enough to claim him.
Heat rushed from Marcy’s head clean to her toes at the thought. She turned, just to make sure, and saw the warlord talking to Vikram and several other aliens. Dawn was still staring at him when she turned back around and the heat intensified.
“The big one with golden skin, who is he?”
Sebera glanced at her before saying, “That is the warlord.”
“The warlord?” Dawn’s smile widened before she took another bite of her turnip root. “Well, if you’re going to have to earn your keep on your back, you might as well do it on your own terms, right? And that one, I won’t mind being turned into a plaything for.”
The heat was starting to scald Marcy’s flesh as Dawn continued to stare at the warlord. The urge to tell her to stay away from him was like a living thing crawling up her throat but she bit her tongue to keep from saying anything. She had no claim on him. Hell, other than her sleeping in his bed, you wouldn’t think her status was any more or less than the other females in camp.
This must be how Jityria felt and for the first time since the warlord brought her to camp, she felt a twinge of pain on her behalf. It sucked watching the guy you liked hitting on someone else. She knew firsthand how it felt as the object of her affection in college hadn’t even known she was alive. Watching him with his girlfriend had made her hate the girl for no other reason than she had what she wanted.
She sighed and looked for Jityria and found her by the warlord’s hut, carrying in those rocks they kept in a bowl that seemed to burn orange all day long. Jityria did everything she could think of to make the warlord see her but he never did. To him, she was just another female in camp who meant nothing to him and for the first time since meeting her, Marcy felt something other than anger at the way Jityria treated her.
Dawn continued to ask questions until Marcy’s head started to pound and she silently thanked Jityria when she called them to come serve the aliens their evening meal. The new humans got their first taste of the aliens here in camp and Dawn soon found that her attitude wouldn’t be appreciated or tolerated and nearly came up swinging when she was picked up halfway through the meal and carried toward the huts screaming.