The Overlord's Heir (7 page)

Vesa glared. “My
time was not worth mentioning either.”

It was hard but
Miki smothered a chuckle. “We don’t have to discuss each others experience. I only
wanted to give Assa advice in order to convince Balal that pleasure is meant
for both in the bedroom.”

“She should kiss
his toqa.”

Miki gasped. The
declaration came from Sera, the shyest of their group. Sera nodded adamantly.
“A man can’t resist that.”

Assa stared at
Sera and smiled slowly. The look was one of a woman with a plan. “The few times
we shared together I never got the chance to explore. I think I will surprise
him and
I
will lead things.”

The rest of them
cheered. When Balal came to his feet with every intention of approaching them,
Assa scrambled out of her seat and raced for the kitchen. Sera and Vesa were
close behind, leaving Miki to deal with a very annoyed Warlord.

As soon as he
reached her side, she sought to distract. “We were just wondering if the Warlords
would mind teaching Assa and Sera to play Dilek.”

Balal stared
overly long with an occasional flick of his dark eyes toward the kitchen. “What
about Vesa?”

Miki didn’t think
he cared but answered nonetheless. “Vesa is terrible at games and refuses to
play.”

Balal grunted. At
times like this, he reminded her of Vaan. When he folded his arms across his
chest and tipped his head down, she forced herself not to dart away. Although
her ungainly form prevented her from a rapid escape to the kitchen like the
others.

“We can set up a
small game outside but you will rest as your Ba’asi has stated.”

Miki eagerly
agreed, pleased he had not caught her lie. Now she needed to convince her
friends to agree.

Chapter 8

Squinting up at
the bright sun, Miki wondered if she had time to get a nap in.

“Riders approach!”

Miki’s attention
perked up and pushed away from Assa and Sera. “Vaan returns.” Rising awkwardly
to her feet, Mikayla brushed dirt from the seat of her pants. Kavan and Balal
handed the dice to the Warlords around them. The shouted announcement
interrupted an exciting game of Dilek. Assa and Sera had taken to it as quickly
as she had.

Miki walked as
fast as her body would allow, ignoring the stitch in her side. Despite the
necessity of sending a messenger because of her condition, pleasure at Vaan’s
return added energy to her steps. She wondered how he’d made it back so
swiftly. “I would greet my mate.” Was all she managed to say to the group.

“Mikayla, wait.”
Kavan’s order gave her pause.

A look over her
shoulder revealed the frown on his face, brows drawn in a deep V.

Balal gripped her
elbow and shook his head in admonishment at her. “Your Ba’asi said you are to
remain calm at all times for the health of the youngling. You are not to run.”

Miki rolled her
eyes. Eran and the Ba’asi had conspired to keep her in bed all day but helping
Assa had led to the impromptu match of Dilek outside where she could enjoy the
heat of the sun. With Vaan returning home, Miki now had a reason to stay in bed
even if they could only touch one another and had to forego a full loving.

Deciding not to
argue with the concerned Warlords assigned to watch her every step, Miki waited
in anticipation, shifting from foot to foot. The brace barring the gate was
lifted by a well-meaning Serel who waved eagerly at Miki and latched it at the
top.

“Who…?”

Kavan’s muffled
oath had Miki frowning up at him but he pushed her to the side as he unsheathed
his sword and ran toward the gate. Tolan usually worked the gate to the compound
but he broke off his conversation with Argan a few feet away to turn suddenly.

As he took note of
the disruption, Argan stiffened and roared. “No! We wait for the Overlord’s
signal.”

But Miki could see
it was too late. The gate swung open aided by a group of Kabanians on hapfe. Thoughts
of an injured Vaan propelled her forward. Why else would warriors storm in
unless something had happened to her mate?

The screams and
shouts which followed were the first inkling that something was amiss. Unknown
warriors dismounted, swinging their swords at the Warlords who sought to
intercept them.

“Armor up,” Argan
shouted to the Warlords and Vaan’s men responded to the command of the one who
stood for their Overlord. Shimmering blue-green scales appeared and covered their
torsos. The protective armor was impenetrable and a result of the symbiotic
connection with the coccar beetle that burrowed beneath their flesh.

Raasa females
panicked and grabbed at the few youngling playing about. Her people looked
terrified but the Raasa males Vaan had trained lifted their bows and began
firing arrows at the unexpected invaders.

Beside her, Balal
pulled his sword forth and wrapped a protective arm around Miki’s shoulders
like a steel band. “Come, my lady. We must get you inside.”

Miki barely heard
his words over the noise of the escalated battle. Allowing him to rush her
toward her home, she threw frantic glances over her shoulder. These were
Kabanians, Vaan’s people. The only threat she’d ever worried over was
eliminated the night her mate killed Thenl. “What’s going on, Balal? Why are
they attacking?”

“Do not worry.”

If Miki had the
breath she would have snorted at his advice. Instead, she placed an arm around
her belly and tried to ignore her racing heart and the dread uncurling in her
gut.

“Miki, hurry!” Standing
at the base of the stairs to her home, Eran waved his hands in her direction,
panic lending a flush to his gold-tinted skin but his green eyes blazed with
fire.

Miki panted and
tried to pick up her pace when suddenly Balal’s arm was no longer around her.
Tripping over her feet, she barely kept from falling on her face.

Steel clanged
against steel behind her. Miki stopped her hectic flight and turned to see Balal,
brow lowered in a scowl, lunge at his attacker.

Eran charged forward,
gasping when he reached Miki. “Come, we must get to the hall.”

She nodded just as
a sharp pain ripped through her side. Miki cried out and bent low. Beads of
sweat popped on her forehead and Miki took a deep breath trying to push back
the ripping sensation across her belly. Never before had she endured such
agony. Her insides felt torn asunder.

Eran leaned over
and propped her arm over his frail shoulder. “Inside, my little one. We must
get you inside.”

Miki took a shaky
step forward when the pain struck again, this time driving her to her knees.
Fear slowly uncurled like a wisp of smoke to tighten its hold on her throat.
The youngling kicked once, twice and then a stretching in her lower stomach had
her gasping. “S-something is wrong, No-No,” she blurted, mouth trembling.

Miki forced
herself to straighten and shoved her feet another step forward. When the pain
hit next, Miki felt as if she’d been struck in the back. Her scream tore
through the courtyard.

“Mikayla!”

Balal kicked out
at his opponent and his gaze met hers. She’d never seen such a dark look in his
black eyes. Always, Balal had a ready smile and a jest for her but with blood
spatter on his cheek and chin, he appeared every bit the image of a Warlord
selected to fight at the side of Vaan Galip.

Another warrior
blocked her view as Balal broke her stare to stand between her and the unknown
Kabanian. Tears burned at her eyes. She had no idea why these warriors attacked
her home. Battle waged around her. Screams and shouts rang out while the air filled
with the metallic smell of blood.

“Go,” Balal
shouted at her.

Holding back a
grimace, Miki leaned on Eran and together they hobbled a few more steps. The
pain intensified and soon her breath came in short pants.

“Almost there. We
are almost there,” her Noan coaxed. “I believe your mate shall return late for
the birth of his warrior son.”

His attempt at
humor proved successful. Chuckling, Miki paused and allowed the next pain to
pass without resisting. As long as she concentrated and waited out the pain,
she could move. “You’re as bad as Vaan. If it’s a boy, I’m naming him Eran after
you.”

The light shining
from her Noan’s expression made the threat worth it and Miki decided she would
indeed name a son for this great man who’d raised her with so much love and
care.

“Do not move
further, Raasa whore.”

When they were
confronted by the tall dark-haired warrior dressed in black leather pants and
boots, Eran’s arm tightened and he eased in front of Miki. Long black hair was
pulled back from a broad forehead. His bare chest bulged with muscles and the tip
of the sword held in his hand dripped blood. Miki’s stomach surged but she
forced back the bile rising in her throat.

“She belongs to
the Overlord,” her Noan said firmly.

Miki wanted to
warn him to save his breath. The heated stare aimed at her glittered with
bitterness and vengeance. This one didn’t care who she belonged to. In fact,
the snarl on his lips spoke of his hatred.

“There is no
Overlord, only the strong shall rule,” the warrior growled and adjusted his
hold on the weapon. “Stand aside old man and you will live.”

“Go, Noan,” she
whispered, keeping her eyes on the danger before them. Miki wrapped both arms
around her middle. If all failed, she must protect her youngling. To the
warrior, she said, “The Warlords will kill you if you harm me.”

He chuckled, the
sound devoid of amusement. “By then you and the spawn you carry will be dead.”

Miki choked back a
cry. “Why?”

He sneered and
spit on the ground. “Because Thenl made promises. Now my warriors and I will
take what we want.”

Again, she faced
the mess left behind by Vaan’s former Warlord Thenl. Knowing the effort was
probably wasted, Miki tried to reason once more. “Vaan will never let you live
if you do this.”

The warrior
laughed in her face and stepped closer. His deadly blade glinted in the
sunlight, drawing her eyes. “I care not for what Vaan Galip wants.”

“Then you are
dead,” she assured and felt a wave of calmness drift over her shoulders. She
tongued her venom sacs beneath her gum line and the buds swelled with deadly
sakar. Easing a hand to her forearm sheathe, Miki withdrew the blade Kavan had
gifted her. The warrior took note, his lips twisted in mockery. He doubted her
ability to strike him.

His sword twirled
as he lunged forward.

“Noo!” The warning
shout came from several directions.

“Miki, run.” Eran
used the moment of distraction and shoved her to the side.

Unprepared for the
move, Miki fell to her knees hard, dropping the blade but managed to brace her hands
on the ground to catch her weight. Still, the pain that tore through her
abdomen rivaled the cramping hitches of earlier. But worst. So much worst.

Fear propelled her
back to her feet. The warrior’s hideous laugh poured forth. Miki’s gaze flew to
the steel length that pierced Eran’s chest until its tip protruded from his
back. Red bloomed in an ever growing circle on the front of his tunic.

“Noan!” She
screamed and screamed as his pain-filled green eyes met her gaze. Blood
trickled down his chin as he tore his eyes away from her, turned toward his
attacker and hissed. Venom flew from her Noan’s mouth to strike the Kabanian in
the face. The warrior roared and stumbled back, pulling his sword along with
him.

Body swaying, Eran
grunted then crumbled to his knees. Tears ran unchecked down Miki’s face as she
crawled to his side. Her mind blocked the whistling air above her head. She
wrapped her arms around the only father she’d ever known and lifted her eyes to
the one who’d killed without mercy.

“May the Blessed
One bar you entrance onto the Hills for your actions this day.”

Her curse was said
with such venomous intent, he hesitated. The delay cost him dearly. Blood burst
from his mouth and his eyes bulged.

Miki blinked.
Argan rose from his crouch as the head of the warrior tumbled to the ground, eyes
staring sightlessly at the sky. Immobile with shock, she stared unable to
comprehend what happened.

She tried to speak
but couldn’t stop the mewling noises escaping her mouth.

“Miki.”

“Miki.”

She tightened her
arms and leaned down close to her Noan’s face. Already his skin paled and the
rattle in his chest carried an ominous ring. “Please don’t leave me.”

His mouth curled
as he reached up to cup her cheek. “I go to the Hills knowing you’re in good
hands. It’s all I ever wanted to live to see.”

“Vaan needs more
work,” she protested, causing him to chuckle but the effort left him gasping.
His back arched and Miki almost lost her hold on his thin body.

Argan knelt beside
her. “Go in peace, old one. We will care for her in your stead.”

Her Noan tilted
his head toward Argan to fully see him. Whatever exchange they silently
communicated, eased his expression and his lids slowly drifted close. Miki bit
down hard on her bottom lip to keep her cries at bay. The sounds of fighting
faded leaving Miki with nothing to cling to. A sob broke free.

“Mikayla, please. We
need to get you to safety.”

Gently, she
lowered her friend’s body to the ground and allowed Argan to help her up. It
wasn’t until she was standing that she felt it. “Argan?”

With his sword in
one hand, Argan whistled sharply and Kavan, hair disheveled about his shoulders,
raced in their direction, his sword slashing through all who stood in his way. Air
sawed in and out of his lungs, as the Warlord reached them.

“Argan,” Miki
snapped.

Both men focused,
eyes going from her face to her legs. Kavan blanched first.

Argan spun and
yelled. “Kill them all!”

As if the Warlords
needed more impetus to repel those attacking their home. Death screams followed
yet it was all Miki could manage to remain standing. Warm liquid trickled down
her legs, darkening her pants. Argan cursed, lifted her into his arms, and rushed
her inside.