Page 39 of Warlord's Mate

Rolling to the edge of the bed, she looked in the floor. The warlord was gone. Maybe she’d misread him the night before. Maybe what happened in the cave was more about him getting off than it was about him wanting tobewith her.

She flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as the night before began playing through her mind again. Now that the burning need to get back at Jityria was gone, she cringed at her behavior. Jealousy certainly didn’t become her.

What possessed her to put on the little display in front of the entire camp, she’d never know. Getting back at Jityria was one thing but to dance so provocatively for the warlord in front of everyone in camp was just—desperate. And she hated feeling desperate but their little tryst under the waterfall had been fresh on her mind when the idea of dancing for him popped into her head and she’d wanted to piss Jityria off so if anyone asked, she'd plea temporary insanity induced by jealousy.

She smiled. Seeing that look on Jityria’s face had felt damn good, though.

And the look that had been on the warlord’s was—

A shiver raced up her spine. He hadn’t said a word after she’d sat back down but she could feel his eyes on her. Knew he was staring a hole into the back of her head and knowing she had his full attention was a heady thing. As much as her rational mind told her to stay as far away as she could, that getting involved emotionally with him was a stupid thing to do, that little voice in the back of her head was begging her to see where things went. She obviously wasn’t getting off Prison Moon One so—it was do or die. Self preservation meant she had to find the biggest, strongest alien here to protect her or get passed around by a multitude of them. If she had to pick a protector, it might as well be the hottest looking one of the bunch, right? Crawling into his bed every night wasn’t a burden in the least, neither was waking up every morning wrapped in his arms. It was obvious he was interested. Even if that interest was to only have her on her back but unless she was mistaken, she’d only be on it for him.

She finally crawled out of bed and dressed, then headed outside. The camp was bustling more than usual today, the din of voices filling the air at a much higher volume. Something was happening.

Hurrying through the woods, she used the crude bathroom in the trees before heading over to the cooking pits. Cayen was rushing out the morning meal faster than normal and shoved a platter into her hands without a word.

There were very few aliens at the table today but of those that were there, more than a few of them watched her as she set the food trenchers out and she wondered why they were so focused on her. When one of them leered at her and asked if she’d be shaking her ass for them at breakfast too, her little dance routine from the night before popped back into her head. Of course they’d all be looking at her. They’d all been witness to her little seduction routine for the warlord the night before.

Embarrassment made her face heat, but she ignored it. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now. It was done and despite her musing while lying in bed, she wondered if things would be awkward between her and the warlord now.

She waited by the table in her usual spot for him but he never showed up. She kept looking over her shoulder, back into camp, and even though the movement never ceased, she never saw him.

The morning meal was over and had been cleared away before the voices of the aliens rose in volume. She stepped out of the trees when she saw a large number of them gathered. They were strapped with weapons and several of them carried large packs. They were going somewhere.

They started moving out, heading into the forest a few minutes later. She searched the sea of bodies for one in particular and saw him near the back of the group. He was shirtless today and wearing the crisscrossing leather bandolier he kept those small knives in and his long blade hung from the hip scabbard.

He looked fierce, his hair wild around his face, and it wasn’t until the entire group started moving that he looked up. Their eyes met and to her utter astonishment, he turned away as if she wasn’t even standing there.

For reasons she didn’t want to examine at the moment, his dismissal—hurt. She looked at those around her, hoping her face didn’t reflect that it had.

The warlord never looked back, and she didn’t move until those leaving could no longer be seen and the noise in camp was almost nonexistent. Half of the aliens were now gone.

The two aliens she considered elders were watching her again. As usual, they were sitting in front of their hut staring at her, whispering amongst themselves. When they saw her watching them, they turned away, their gazes on the sky as if they weren’t looking at her at all.

Their antics erased her sullen mood and seeing Krista and Dawn heading back to the females hut, she turned to follow them.

The others were already seated and performing one of the many chores there always seemed to be. They did nothing but mend clothes, cut up the many roots and vegetation they ate then served, repaired hides, and made new ones, along with shoes and anything else those around camp were in need of. The list was never ending.

A basket of the blue turnip roots was sitting off to one side. She grabbed it, found a stool, and sat down. The chatter around camp was so minimal it didn’t take much to hear someone say, “How could you even want to fuck it?”

Marcy paused, her eyes widening as she turned her head. The two old aliens were staring at her again but looked to the sky the moment she made eye contact with them. She snorted a laugh and went back to her turnip roots, but her focus was still on them.

“Look at it,” one of them said. “It’s hideous. Its skin is colorless except for those dots that match its hair and its face is flat.”

Dots? Were they talking about her freckles?

“I don’t like the way it watches us, either.”

“How does it watch us,” the other said.

“Like … she’d kill us if she had a chance.”

“Do you think they’re all like that?”

“Yes. The other two stare at us like that, too. Like we’re the strange ones. Trust me. Those ugly things are vicious. They’ll suck our brains out through our nose if we let them get too close. Stay clear of them. I know these things.”

Marcy bit her lip to keep from laughing. The humans were the ugly ones? And he was afraid of her?

She turned her head to look at them and smiled, showing her teeth.