Read Online Rise of the Shadow Warriors by Michelle Howard - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Howard
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down his shoulder before misting over his chest in a soft caress.
His toqa already ached. The touch of the shadows on his bare skin only fanned the fires of his arousal. “Cease your games.” He had wanted his tone to be firm. Resolute. Instead it came out in a deep whisper. What magic was this?
Argan inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to clear his head. His heart thumped hard against his chest. The heady scent of flowers filled his nostrils. Her scent. Her smell.
This was the woman who haunted his evenings. When his head hit the pillow at night, he dreamed of her. Nothing he did from consuming deep drink, eyeing other females and stroking himself to pleasure in bed would rid him of the image of gleaming red hair and glowing eyes. It made no sense that her face teased him so. Argan barely recalled the day he’d suffered from Maso. But he remembered her. And he remembered the sticky sweet scent of some unknown fragrance she used.
It should not be possible for one woman to claim so much of his thoughts. And yet here he stood, completely in awe of her. He wanted her. With a fierceness he’d not felt before. She set a fire in his blood that no other woman ever had. Forcing his gaze away from the tantalizing globes on display took effort. He wanted to be angry that she’d reveal so much of her body in front of others, yet to deny the pleasure he received from the sight was foolish.
The silky touch of shadows continued to glide over his chest and down his torso. He wanted this woman, of that he had no doubt but her strange manner of arrival and the shadows moving over his body warned of the trouble she could potentially cause.
Argan took a deliberate step back from temptation. “Cease, woman,” he ordered and this time his voice carried the firmness of his intent.
She didn’t jump from the barked command as he expected but the shadows disappeared. He had a moment to regret the loss. For a brief beat in time the dark tendrils had reminded him of a woman’s caressing hands and he could pretend they belonged to Shaina.
Her silver eyes shot fire. For some reason, the look only increased Argan’s desire. He resisted the urge to fist his toqa this very minute. Instead he clenched his hands and let his arms fall to his sides.
“My name is Shaina C’Err, Queen of the Olak’din.” She emphasized her name and title.
“You would have me believe you are of the lost people?” Argan posed the question though a part of him already accepted her words as truth. Somehow she belonged to the race known as Shadow Warriors. A people long thought dead. And if her claim was to be believed, she was their Queen.
“How else did I get through your guards and fellow warriors? The shadows don’t deny me. Whether you believe is your choice to make but I come here to claim your debt unless you choose not to honor it.”
Argan stiffened. Being aroused by her presence did not mean he had to ignore the slight. “Do not question my honor. Ever. I would challenge a warrior for less.”
Berry red lips tightened, drawing his stare. How would it feel to press his lips to hers? Would she enjoy the affection known as kisses?
“Your honor isn’t in doubt.”
Her tone carried the snip of feminine outrage. Oddly enough, Argan wanted to smile. She was even more beautiful in her pique. His head tipped to the side as he studied her. Accepting her claim led him to his next question of why one of the ancient Shadow Warriors would leave the darkness they supposedly craved.
“What do you ask in return for the gift of my life?” He prepared for an outlandish demand. Some favor from Vaan or perhaps a handsome reward from the obvious wealth of the Raasa.
“I need you.”
Argan inhaled and his toqa twitched and throbbed. Moisture gathered on the head. Putting on his pants would have been wise but he’d responded instinctively when he’d sensed a presence in his room. To do so now would have him appear weak before her. “Repeat your words,
His toqa already ached. The touch of the shadows on his bare skin only fanned the fires of his arousal. “Cease your games.” He had wanted his tone to be firm. Resolute. Instead it came out in a deep whisper. What magic was this?
Argan inhaled and exhaled in an attempt to clear his head. His heart thumped hard against his chest. The heady scent of flowers filled his nostrils. Her scent. Her smell.
This was the woman who haunted his evenings. When his head hit the pillow at night, he dreamed of her. Nothing he did from consuming deep drink, eyeing other females and stroking himself to pleasure in bed would rid him of the image of gleaming red hair and glowing eyes. It made no sense that her face teased him so. Argan barely recalled the day he’d suffered from Maso. But he remembered her. And he remembered the sticky sweet scent of some unknown fragrance she used.
It should not be possible for one woman to claim so much of his thoughts. And yet here he stood, completely in awe of her. He wanted her. With a fierceness he’d not felt before. She set a fire in his blood that no other woman ever had. Forcing his gaze away from the tantalizing globes on display took effort. He wanted to be angry that she’d reveal so much of her body in front of others, yet to deny the pleasure he received from the sight was foolish.
The silky touch of shadows continued to glide over his chest and down his torso. He wanted this woman, of that he had no doubt but her strange manner of arrival and the shadows moving over his body warned of the trouble she could potentially cause.
Argan took a deliberate step back from temptation. “Cease, woman,” he ordered and this time his voice carried the firmness of his intent.
She didn’t jump from the barked command as he expected but the shadows disappeared. He had a moment to regret the loss. For a brief beat in time the dark tendrils had reminded him of a woman’s caressing hands and he could pretend they belonged to Shaina.
Her silver eyes shot fire. For some reason, the look only increased Argan’s desire. He resisted the urge to fist his toqa this very minute. Instead he clenched his hands and let his arms fall to his sides.
“My name is Shaina C’Err, Queen of the Olak’din.” She emphasized her name and title.
“You would have me believe you are of the lost people?” Argan posed the question though a part of him already accepted her words as truth. Somehow she belonged to the race known as Shadow Warriors. A people long thought dead. And if her claim was to be believed, she was their Queen.
“How else did I get through your guards and fellow warriors? The shadows don’t deny me. Whether you believe is your choice to make but I come here to claim your debt unless you choose not to honor it.”
Argan stiffened. Being aroused by her presence did not mean he had to ignore the slight. “Do not question my honor. Ever. I would challenge a warrior for less.”
Berry red lips tightened, drawing his stare. How would it feel to press his lips to hers? Would she enjoy the affection known as kisses?
“Your honor isn’t in doubt.”
Her tone carried the snip of feminine outrage. Oddly enough, Argan wanted to smile. She was even more beautiful in her pique. His head tipped to the side as he studied her. Accepting her claim led him to his next question of why one of the ancient Shadow Warriors would leave the darkness they supposedly craved.
“What do you ask in return for the gift of my life?” He prepared for an outlandish demand. Some favor from Vaan or perhaps a handsome reward from the obvious wealth of the Raasa.
“I need you.”
Argan inhaled and his toqa twitched and throbbed. Moisture gathered on the head. Putting on his pants would have been wise but he’d responded instinctively when he’d sensed a presence in his room. To do so now would have him appear weak before her. “Repeat your words,
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