Read Online SurrendersMischief by Alvania Scarborough - Free Book Online

advantageous site from which to view the
match. “This is something I wouldn’t miss for all the profit in a hold.”
    As luck would have it, she found a spot right up front.
Riana claimed it despite several disapproving looks from nearby warriors.
    A circle roughly ten meters in diameter was quickly cleared.
Darias and his opponent stripped to the waist. Gaith attached a small, circular
device to each man’s back.
    “What are those?” Riana asked, as the other woman came up
beside her.
    “When a man’s shoulders are pinned to the floor, they signal
the end of the match.”
    “Hush, women.” A warrior standing next to Riana barked out
the order. She shot him a resentful glance from under lowered lids but
continued watching in silence.
    The challenging warrior started the match with a lunging
punch, which Darias easily sidestepped. Punch after punch, the challenger
attacked Darias, and it soon became apparent that his opponent was woefully
outmatched. Darias moved with a smooth grace that was beautiful to watch. No
needless energy was expended as he circled the larger man, seeking an opening.
He soon found it and lashed out with a lightning-quick left. The man’s head
snapped back. Darias closed in and hefted the other man over his shoulder. The
man landed, stunned, on his back. A high-pitched electronic signal marked the
count. On the eighth count, the man staggered to his feet.
    Two more lefts and then a right, and the man was out cold,
the device on his back bleating out a continuous signal.
    “Remove him. When he wakes, tell him he is no longer a part
of my personal guard. I will not have a man abuse his power.” Darias glared at
the crowd. “Gaith, tell his concubine the Council will find her a new master.
Until such time, she may stay in the keep.” He stalked through the crowd until
he reached the open door to his office on the left side of the Hall. The sound
of the door slamming behind him as he disappeared inside echoed all the way to
the high ceiling.
    “This was over a woman?” Try as she might, Riana couldn’t
keep the total disbelief out of her voice.
    The warrior who had shushed her before aimed a disdainful
glance down at Riana. “This isn’t over a woman. This is over disobedience. The
warrior, Maric, shouldn’t have questioned his leader.”
    Riana ignored his admonishment and let a long, slow smile
curve her lips.
    Now Darias would pay.
    * * * * *
    Darias stood beside the bed, staring at Riana as she slept.
How did one woman have such influence over him? Even after spending long hours
contemplating that very question, it was as incomprehensible as ever.
    Less than a quarter of a cycle ago, the plight of Maric’s
woman would have gone unnoticed by him. What a man did with his slave was his
own business, so long as she was not physically harmed. But when he had heard
Maric offering the services of the woman as part of a business deal, rage had
flared swift and hot. Part of it stemmed from the sheer misery he saw on the
woman’s face, most of the blame for his actions, however, fell squarely on the
shoulders of the woman sleeping so peacefully in his bed.
    She’d made it impossible for him to ignore such behavior.
    Life was much simpler before her ship had crashed.
    He reached out and drew a strand of her hair between his
fingers. Spidersilk spun by the finest artisans on the Far Islands and smuggled
into Nexar by Zarcasian pirates wasn’t this soft. Fanned out against the
space-deep blue of his pillows, the rich color of her hair glowed like the
heart of an ember in the dim light offered by the single lamp.
    He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t come.
    He found couldn’t stay away.
    Darias undressed slowly, keeping his gaze on Riana all the
while. He could do this, take his pleasure yet remain in control. The night in
the garden flashed through his mind. Then, despite the ritual of punishment,
he’d come dangerously close to losing himself in her body. Tonight would be
different.