Page 47 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

"Thank you, Khazar." Vandor's arms around me were like a wall of protection, promising the safety I had been missing for many weeks.

"Come," he pulled me off my feet and carried me to Mordakay, who whinnied a greeting.

"Wait." I pointed at Lynette and Syseann, "These women saved me, they are my friends and need to come with me."

"Dyrk," Vandor shouted at a warrior passing by, amazing me once again how he knew the names of all his men. "Find those kallinies a safe spot and guard them with your life."

"Kar, Warlord," Dyrk acknowledged, stretching his hands out to help the women up on his horse.

"I will find you," I promised them as Vandor put me up on Mordakay before he swung himself into the saddle behind me.

Exhausted, I leaned into his chest. Still dazed from the battle and at finally being safe, I relished in the feel of his hand on my rounded belly as he turned the horse to take us away from the fighting, which was still going on all around us.

"Damaris," he rasped my name, as amazed as I for us having found each other, probably even more so, since he hadn't even known I was missing.

He took us straight to where his army had put up camp. There was no fighting here, but injured men were being brought in and tended to in a somewhat ordered chaos.

Vandor carried me into his tent where he reverently put me on his bed filled with comfy looking furs. "Are you alright? Do you need anything? Water, food?" he asked, running his hand through strands of hair that had come loose from his braid during the battle.

"I'm alright now," I assured him. Biting my lip, I asked the question I didn't want to ask. "Do you need to go back… out there?"

His eyes gave me the answer before he opened his mouth and in a pained voice said, "Czira."

"Go," I said with a weak smile. "We'll have time to talk later. Your khazar needs you. Thyre needs you. Grobhan needs to be stopped."

I tried to be braver than I felt, but even as I spoke the words, I knew they were true and so did Vandor.

"Dryck," he cursed and pulled me into his arms for a crushing kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," I said. "Now go before I turn into a sobbing mess."

Torn, he hesitated by the tent flap.

"Go!" I waved my hands.

After he left, I felt bereft but safer than I had in weeks. Part of me wanted to run after him, call him back, because I feared the danger he would be in, but the other part of me knew that I couldn't. This needed to be done. Vandor had already killed Fionbyr; he would come back to me soon. I had to believe that because otherwise I would have gone insane.

Dead tired, but with a whirring mind, I feared I wouldn't find any sleep if I curled up on Vandor's bed even though that was all I craved right then. Well, that and Vandor.

Noises from outside, curses and moans of pain, ripped me from my stupor. I was safe and unharmed. My baby was safe and unharmed, but many of those men out there were injured, and I was sure every hand, no matter how unskilled, would be needed.

Gathering the hem of my skirt and my courage, I marched out of the tent, determined to do something besides sit in Vandor's tent waiting for him and going crazy with worry.

Without Vandor by my side and not sitting atop a horse, the organized chaos seemed more chaotic. Men came riding in, dropping injured comrades off and riding back out into the thick of the battle.

I didn't have any experience with healing, but I could wash, stitch, and bandage a wound.

It didn't take long to locate the center of the makeshift open hospital where all the medical necessities were laid out on tables and stored in open trunks.

I avoided the area where more skilled healers were tending to deeper wounds and gathered what I needed before I approached the first wounded warrior with a nasty gash across his arm.

"Gotendtoyourlady," Gryck said after the battle finally concluded. "I can't wait to hear her story."

Tired but exhilarated from having won the day, I turned my exhausted horse back to our camp, only to find my czira for the second time that day where I least expected her.

A handler took Mordakay, and I stopped and stared at my beautiful mate. She had tamed her long blonde hair into a braid that fell over her back while she gracefully sat on a stool, focusing with narrowed eyes on sewing a warrior's wound shut.

Will she ever cease to amaze me? I wondered, drinking her in.

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