Vulcan's Woman

Jennifer
LaRose

Barbarian Lust, Book One

Wisteria’s clan demands she mate
with a brutish hunter to carry on a strong bloodline. Instead she discovers the
sexy, forbidden Vulcan. When she’s seen kissing the foreign tribesman she’s
beaten and ostracized before being taken prisoner by the bloodthirsty
Barbarians. While hoping for Vulcan’s return she takes her rescue into her own
hands, complicating matters further.

Vulcan is the leader of a US
Special Forces unit, which has purportedly been sent to planet Helixis to
observe the native species. However, he discovers he’s part of a deceptive
government plan. While struggling with his conscience he falls for the
independent-minded Wisteria and introduces her to the joys of lovemaking. But
when he’s called back to Earth, he must decide where his heart lies.

Inside Scoop
: Helixis is
overrun by vicious creatures that cause violent, bloody havoc.

A
Romantica®
sci-fi erotic romance
from
Ellora’s Cave

Acknowledgement

I want to thank Kathleen Kashnier, Deanna Ponder and
Virginia Cunningham for their wonderful friendships, critiques and honest
criticism. These ladies mean the world to me. I’d also like to thank Jeremy
Pozderac for sharing his artillery knowledge, and for his willingness to
educate this gal who knows nothing about guns and ammo. Thanks, Jerm!

And finally, I want to express my gratitude to my amazing
editor Beverly Horne for her diligence, kindness and proficiency. My fictional
worlds are nonexistent without her. Thank you, Beverly.

“Wisteria, don’t wander far,” Nodda yelled, her voice
carrying above the laughter of four small clan children carving pictures in the
dirt with rocks and sticks.

“Momma, you worry too much. I know my boundaries,” Wisteria
responded as she headed toward a matted stretch of weeds she’d traveled so
often it formed a path.

“I know you do, but still, I can’t dismiss the thoughts of
when the Mountain Slayers shredded your sister into pieces smaller than the
pebbles beneath my feet. It’s been too recent. This old woman cannot withstand
the death of another child. I’ve lost too many in senseless battles over the
years.”

Wisteria sighed, halted and glanced over her shoulder at her
mother. Yes, having borne the loss of eight children, her mom had endured more
pain than anyone should. She looked tired and aged. Her waist-length hair, once
black and shiny, was now as gray as their cavernous home, and her facial skin
sagged beneath her eyes like a wrinkled pelt. Wisteria wouldn’t dare upset her
further for any reason. “I know. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

Wisteria, her two older brothers Shale and Boar and her
younger sister Ivy were all who remained of twelve kids. It broke her heart
when they’d left the deceased behind in their graves when the flesh-eating
tribe barged in and stole their homeland. Fourteen full moons ago they’d been
forced to escape their beautiful habitat of huts, surrounded by billowing hills
and green meadows, to migrate to cold, dark caverns hidden within the forest.
The sunshine couldn’t breach their stone shelters, which made the days as cool
and dreary as nightfall. Nor did they have enough furs to snuggle under when
they slept. Each night the cold settled into Wisteria’s body, so whenever
possible she visited the lake to collect pretty rocks for her body art, where
the sun shone in droves of warmth.

“Take your spear, Wisteria.”

“Oh Momma, I’ll be fine.” She turned around, walked to her
mom, took hold of her hands and squeezed them affectionately. “The golden lake
is a safe place,” she said, smiling bittersweetly. Unlike her drab cave, it was
her paradise, bursting with beautiful colors. Sadly, being forbidden to wander
past dark, she’d experienced the magical beauty at nighttime only once when
she’d stolen away for an evening bath. That’s when it was most radiant, glowing
in a yellow moonlit hue. “There is no threat during daylight.”

“I know, but you must be prepared to slaughter if you’re
approached by wildlife. Our supplies are few. It’s time to help our men hunt.”

“I can’t kill animals, Momma, you know that. My skill is
making jewelry from stones.”

“Yes, and they’re beautiful.” Nodda draped Wisteria’s hair
behind her shoulder while studying her adoringly. “Soon you’ll make one of our
clan a proud man.”

Wisteria laughed. “I’ll be back shortly. I’m going to collect
rocks, not run off to unite in marriage.” Her laughter died as her mom rested a
palm on Wisteria’s cheek, her expression sullen. “Momma? What aren’t you
telling me?”

“Your father has chosen him.”

“Who?” She sensed someone’s eyes upon her but was too shocked
by her mom’s disclosure to care. It could have been any of the clan members.
They were notorious for listening in while others conversed.

“Your mate. It’s time to breed.”

My mate?
She would’ve been united a long time ago if
her mother hadn’t clung to her so tightly. “Who?”

“Sledge.”

Wisteria removed her mom’s hand from her cheek and stepped
back. “No! No, not him. He’s mean. And he’s…he’s foul…and, and I’ll never lay
with him. Never.”
How could Father do this?

“He’s our bravest hunter. He’s good breeding stock.”

The thought of mating with Sledge turned her belly. He
wasn’t typical of the men in their humble clan. They at least bathed in the
lake to rid themselves of the day’s toils. Sledge rarely washed. Animal blood
from kills remained on his body and furs until it dried and he scraped it off
with his fingernails. His hair was a ratted mess and probably infested with
insects and maggots feeding on his scalp.

Wisteria quivered but composed herself before saying
something disrespectful to disappoint her mom. Slowly she straightened,
stiffening her posture. “Tell my father no. I will not unite with Sledge.”

“I’m sorry, Wisteria. I know this is my fault. I was selfish
in my own right, but I’ve lost so many children I couldn’t bear to part with
you or your sister. Now, I haven’t a choice. We need to increase the numbers in
our clan. If the women don’t start bearing children, one day we’ll be taken
over by another tribe and driven to extinction. The Flesh Eaters nearly wiped
us out. Only thirty-one remain. Thirty-one, Wisteria. How can we protect
ourselves from further attacks with so few?”

And why is that my problem?
She’d rather all clans
unite as one. There’d be less fear and hatred and food would be plentiful.
“I’ll not allow Sledge to rut me like a beast. I’m more than an incubator for
his offensive seed.”

“You’ve already been promised. He brought your father
sixteen hides upon the morning sun as payment.”

Wisteria followed her mom’s gaze to a pile of furs stacked
near the trunk of a tall oak tree. Her heart lurched. “He didn’t!” Her mouth
dropped. She snapped it shut so quickly her teeth clinked. How could Sledge
have acquired so many furs so soon when their people left everything behind
when they’d escaped the Flesh Eaters? “I don’t trust him.”

“You talk nonsense.” Nodda stepped forward, lifted
Wisteria’s hand and patted the back side. “On the seventh rise of the sun you
will join in marriage to our great hunter.”

“Marriage! This is ridiculous.” She’d rather suffer through
cold nights than endure his touch.

“We’ll now have the means to stay warm when the sun hides
beyond the land and morning abounds.”

Wisteria retracted her hand, spun and headed toward the path
leading to the lake. “Tell my father to return them. I’d rather be captured by
the Flesh Eaters.”

“Wisteria!”

She never intentionally ignored her mother but she was at a
loss for civil words. If she opened her mouth she might say something vulgar
and get tossed beneath Sledge’s furs sooner than seven suns as a punishment for
her disobedience.

She stomped through the forest, her feet smashing rocks she
normally avoided, but she was too angered to feel any pain. As she neared the
lake a loud
boom
rumbled in the distance. The ground shook. She wrapped
both arms around the nearest tree, squeezed her eyes shut and held on tight.
“Not again.” The exact thing happened two days ago.

Something stiff and scratchy hit her shoulder then tumbled
to the path. She opened her eyes to see a huge nest made from twigs lying
beside her feet. Four large eggs, twice the size of her hands, rolled free and
settled near the tree’s protruding roots.

Two more
booms
shook the ground and then suddenly it
steadied. Cautiously she released the tree, listening as the echo faded.

For a long moment she stood still. While anticipating another
boom
she studied the grayish-white eggs. None of the shells were visibly
cracked but it didn’t mean they weren’t harmed on the inside. One at a time she
returned them to the nest, examining their unusual black spots.

A loud, heavy swooping sound echoed overhead followed by an
ear-piercing, “
caw-caw
”. She replaced the fourth egg and glanced upward.
High above the treetops a huge animal with an enormous wingspan circled the
forest.

She focused on the odd-shaped wings as she stood and slowly
backed away from the nest. Stealing a mouthful of air, she turned and ran
toward the lake, batting branches and vines aside. She tripped and fell along
the side of the path but caught herself with her hands before her head hit the
ground. Thorns and rocks scratched her palms and knees and her thigh scraped
against the pointed edge of a hollow log.

Breaths sawed in and out of her lungs with a fierce burn but
she jumped to her feet and ran, refusing to stop until she reached the water.
There she’d be safe. The two-headed serpent would protect her.

The bird continued circling overhead. She watched its shadow
as she dashed across large, flat stones, searching the depths for the snake,
but Loo-La wasn’t in the vicinity.

Wisteria jumped over rows of flowers, raced through the clearing
of plush grass to the bright-orange feather tree and ducked inside the
branches. She peered through the whisper-soft leaves and into the sky. The bird
had disappeared but she listened for the unusual sound of its wings. The subtle
waterfall streaming from the cliff at the far end of the lake was the only
audible noise.

She waited, drawing one breath after another until her chest
relaxed, then she stuck her head through the branches and peeked. No shadows
circling the ground. No swoosh of flapping wings.

Sighing in relief, she glanced at the multiple rows of
flourishing magnolia plants along the embankment. The center row consisted of
pink flowers. The outer strips thrived in shades of bright red. Ah, her
beautiful haven. She felt more at home here than in the caves.

Fern trees, evergreens and lime-colored bushes lined the
forest border. White water lilies lay across the water, which was clear enough
to see the yellow clay bottom. During the one moonlit night she was fortunate
enough to see, the underbelly had glowed, lighting the entire area. The large
two-headed serpent, Loo-La, blended with the colors and at times couldn’t be
seen.

Sighing in relief, Wisteria withdrew from the underside of
the branches, stood up and cautiously walked to the lake. Large purple leaves
and small silver petals fluttered in the breeze on her favorite tree, which
stood halfway between the flowers and the bank. She closed her eyes and tilted
her face to the sky, absorbing the warm rays before she sat down with her back
to the trunk. As she drew her knees close to her breasts, the bottom of her
right foot throbbed. She laid it across her opposite knee and brushed dirt and
sand off her sole. Tiny stone impressions dented her heel but a long thorn
embedded partially beneath the skin caused the pain. She grabbed the protruding
end and tried wiggling it free but it wouldn’t budge. Wincing, she pinched it
between her nails and yanked. It popped free. Blood rushed to the surface,
bubbling at the puncture’s opening.

Exchanging glances between the sand-filled embankment and
the lake, she scooted to the edge and inched her feet into the cold water. The
warmth bathing her upper body along with the cool water chilling her toes
soothed her inner turmoil better than any herbal elixir could. She wasn’t angry
at her father anymore. Hurt, yes, but not mad.

Why Sledge? Couldn’t her dad sense Sledge’s dishonesty? How
had Sledge acquired all those pelts in exchange for her in so short a period of
time? Was she the only person who noticed when he departed to hunt, he stayed
away for long periods of time and often returned empty-handed? If he was
supposedly the greatest hunter in their clan, it didn’t say much about his
skills.

She sighed and dismissed all thoughts of him because they
soured her stomach. Instead she focused on her surroundings. This place, her
paradise, was too beautiful to dwell on shallow visions.

Still leery the enormous bird might return, she glanced
across the surface of the still water, searching for Loo-La. The serpent would
protect her if the bird attacked. Well, she chose to believe it would.

“Looooo-Laaaaa,” she sang, summoning the yellow snake.
“Loo-Looooo-Laaaaa.”

Sometimes it took her friend awhile to appear, so she
skimmed the surroundings, waiting for its long, yellow body to emerge.
“Loo-Laaaaa.”

She glanced at the cliffs where the serpent sometimes
sunbathed. Near the waterfall large white boulders glistened beneath the sun.
The entire embankment twinkled as well as if it were sprinkled with shiny dust.
Right below the water’s edge smaller stones sparkled. Some were clear and
others were flat, black stones.

She inched forward and dug them free, examining each one
closely. Those that were large and unflawed she set aside in a pile. The tiny
ones she tossed back into the water because they’d break when trying to drill
the holes needed to string them together.

A loud splash stole her attention. She tilted her head
slightly and smiled, expecting to see Loo-La weaving in and out of the water,
but she saw nothing other than ripples circling the surface. Many aquatic
animals lived in the lake. They’d possibly bobbed for air.

While she continued digging up stones she heard another
splash. It was much closer in the shallows. She looked up. A tall, muscular man
emerged from the knee-deep section. She gasped and scrambled backward. The
water rolling down his massive arms and chest glistened in the sunlight.
Streams slithered from the bulge in his dark-brown fur loincloth to the
contours of his thighs. As he stepped forward one long stride at a time, his
muscular legs flexed. A few droplets trickled into the lake and Wisteria heard
every subtle kerplunk.

When their eyes met she froze. His were dark. So dark they
appeared black, the same shade as his long, unbound hair.

In that instant she knew he belonged to an unfamiliar tribe.
The Mountain Slayers wore gray furs and their bushy hair was lighter in color.
The Flesh Eaters donned skin pelts and bound their hair with vines strung with
human teeth. Neither clan wandered near the yellow lake in fear of the
two-headed snake. Only one other tribe remained. A tribe who emerged at night
and were so feared for their coldhearted brutality, no one spoke of them. Those
who tore humans apart with their bare hands and skinned their bodies or burned them
alive. Those who killed for the sake of killing. A tribe so sadistic, not even
the Flesh Eaters would invade their territory.