Page 7 of Mated to the Alien Warlord

Still, watching him ride at us, swinging his sword, did things to my heart that would be seared into it from this moment forward.

Before my captor had a chance to fully unsheathe his sword, the warlord was already on his other side keeping my captor's horse between me and the two fighting men before the warlord took his head off.

I ripped the strip of leather from his hand and moved back toward the safety of a tree, from where I watched the battle unfold with a hammering heart.

The other nine Thyres rallied and rushed their horses at the warlord, but in a show of agility belying his horse's size and weight, the warlord pivoted his mount and was suddenly on the other side of the circling men, cutting another enemy down.

Without giving their fallen comrade a glance, the now-eight riders spread out more, having learned from their friend's' death not to give the warlord an opening, but before they were even able to form a semblance of a formation, the warlord cut another man down.

I leaned against the tree, staring wide-eyed at the fighting men, counting another captor as he went down, and praying the warlord would win the day.

That was when I realized this was my chance to take off—while the men were occupied. As much as I was drawn to watch the battle, my self-preservation instincts kicked in.

I had no idea which warlord had come to my rescue, but he still faced five adversaries, and I figured my chances of survival were a lot greater if I made it out of here.

The dead Thyres' horses had stayed nearby since they were trained warhorses. Taking a deep breath for courage, I gathered my skirts with my still-bound hands and rushed to where the closest horse stood, nibbling on a bush. Used to Thyres and humans, the mare barely lifted her head at my approach. I reached for the saddle's horn; it was so far up, it was nearly out of my reach, but I managed to pull myself up onto the horse's back.

Behind me, the clanging of swords indicated the men were still in the midst of their battle, paying no attention to me. I shouldn't have, but something compelled me to turn and look. Only three Thyres were left to face the warlord, and the flutter in my stomach intensified.

The viciousness of the fight was as appalling as it was mesmerizing. My foot lifted into the stirrup, and I halted right there, watching as another Thyre fell off his horse, struck by a ferocious blow.

One of the other two survivors turned his horse and our eyes met for a fraction of a moment before he spurred his horse straight at me, while his partner engaged the warlord.

Oh shit, ran through my head. I had dawdled too long and now one of my captors was coming for me. Again. This time, though, his sword was raised high into the air, ready to take my head off.

I only had a few seconds to decide what to do, and I prayed I wasn't making a mistake when I fully swung myself onto the horse instead of abandoning it and running.

I ducked low in the saddle while kicking my heels into the horse's sides right as the rider was upon us. Instead of moving forward though, my horse reared, trained to attack whoever was attacking her or me. I managed to stay in the saddle as the horse used its front legs like fists, battering them at the incoming aggressor.

My attacker's horse did the same, jumping onto his hindlegs. While the two horses engaged, kicking each other's legs, all my attacker and I could do was cling to our saddles and pray we stayed in them.

My warlord reappeared from out of nowhere, having presumably disposed of his foe. He mercilessly cut down the Thyre clinging to his horse.

Suddenly riderless, the other horse took off and mine returned to its four legs, leaving me panting and probably pale with fright sitting astride it. I stared at the warlord, whose features softened at the sight of me.

"Princess Damaris, I presume?"

Up close, the man was simply breathtaking. His face looked chiseled with its hard angles. Deep-set eyes burned with the aftereffects of the battle, and I had a sudden vision that this would be what they looked like after making love, awakening a strange pulsing sensation between my legs.

A long, straight nose divided his striking features and presided over a set of full lips, which were currently set in a self-satisfied, grim grin, and rightly so. He had just singlehandedly killed ten trained warriors.

"Ye-es," I managed, still staring at him as if he were a creature from another planet.

His red skin glistened with sweat, giving it the appearance of being oiled, and highlighted his massive muscles.

"I'm Warlord Vandor, your new mate," he introduced himself.

As ridiculous as my words sounded, what else was I supposed to say but, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Warlord Vandor."

His lips twitched in amusement at my words. "I trust you are unharmed?"

I wasn't sure if he was asking me if my captors had raped me, rising heat to my face.

"Exhausted, but unharmed," I managed. Remembering my bound hands, I held them up.

He sheathed the sword he had still been holding by his side and instead freed a dagger. There was a strange look on his face when his eyes perused my body from head to toe, before he, almost hesitantly, brought the dagger's blade between my flesh and the bindings and severed them.

Myadrenalinewasstillrushing through my ears when I stared at the beautiful kallini before me. I hadn't given my bride much thought when I signed the marriage contract. It had been a business agreement, nothing else, but looking at her now, I wondered if I would have agreed to marry her either way.

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