Warlord and the Waif by Chloe Parker

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CALDER

I CAN’T KEEP my eyes off her.

Every time Ella enters from the kitchens, speaking with our Hyperborean guests, my gaze follows her. She’s clad in a blue servant’s gown Portia bought for her in town for the occasion, her breasts pressed up by the dress and a trail of laces down her elegant back. Her hair is pinned at the nape of her neck, revealing the places I long to press my mouth to as I fuck her.

Freckles stretch across her shoulders and chest, disappearing in a constellation of soft brown below the hem of her dress. I want to chase the stars from her sternum to her navel.

She locks eyes with me, a carafe of ruby wine clasped in her delicate hands. A dusting of rosy pink spreads over her cheeks and down her breast, her mouth falling just slightly open.

I settle into my throne, beckoning her forward with a glance at my empty goblet, intoxicated by her presence. The banquet tables line the edge of the Great Hall, twenty Hyperboreans seated around me, and I watch as their black eyes follow Ella’s path across the room. A flare of jealousy erupts in my chest when one particularly bold Hyperborean’s stare settles on her rear, his eyes going wide and his lips quirking in a smirk.

Even these heartless devils can see true beauty when it’s right in front of them. Ella is the sun itself compared to the chill of this room.

I’ll kill them if they touch her.

“Elixir processing has picked up in speed,” a chilly voice says from my right. Its source, Magister Ioni, is the leader of the delegation, a white-haired and frosty-skinned woman. Her eyes are entirely black, the pupils dilated as a result of Elixir dosing. The woman is thousands of years old, but she looks like she couldn’t be more than nineteen, dressed in a silken white robe that accents her cool complexion. She is striking, but in the opposite way from Ella; winter and summer, clashing in this room.

“We’ve been able to increase production as we expand the city and more indentures are brought in,” I respond.

“Has the curse pained you much?” she asks, gesturing at my tattoos.

“No more than usual.” I dismiss her with a wave of my hand. “I trust that the Empire is hard at work on a cure. The terms of our agreement have long been met.”

She starts droning on about this new remedy that they hope to try.

But I’m distracted.

Ella stands before me, pouring the wine into my goblet. As she leans forward, I can’t help but take an eyeful of her décolletage, and when I drag my eyes up the curve of her breast, her brown eyes are on mine, gold in the light.

I feel a twinge of annoyance that the delegation arrived on this particular day. If they’d delayed their inspection, I could have Ella naked in my bed right now, making her scream in pleasure, tasting every last inch of her. We maintain our gaze until she’s nearly overfilled my goblet, her dark eyelashes brushing her cheeks in embarrassment as she turns to walk away.

So bold before, now so shy. Has she changed her mind once again?

“Mine is empty, handmaiden.”

Ioni holds out her goblet between us, scrutinizing Ella. The human mutters an apology and fills the goblet, tripping over her long skirt and spilling a few drops as she turns away.

Ioni chuckles, a humorless and hollow sound.

“Where did you get this pitiful creature?” she asks. “It’s hideous.”

I inhale deeply, calming myself. Rage makes the pain worse, and I don’t want to anger the delegation, despite the unpleasantness of their company.

“She came in with the last delivery two weeks ago.”

“From where?”

“Earth.” I can’t help but watch her move, her step too bold for a skirt, clumsy and beautiful. “She can speak well, read, write. The species isn’t all that primitive.”

“No more so than the Skoll were when we stumbled on you savages,” Ioni smirks, “It makes sense that you would find her so charming.”

“I don’t find her ‘charming,’” I grumble, lying through my teeth.

“Don’t lie to me, Calder.” Ioni snorts. “You watch her like she’s a delectable piece of meat, and I know the Skoll like to sample their indentures. Have you tasted her yet?”

My grip tightens on my goblet. This is a test.

“I take what I want.”

“You beast,” Ioni says with a wicked smile. “Perhaps we’ll have to visit this planet…where did you say she came from?”

“Earth.”

Ella draws closer, and I see her attention captured by mention of her planet. She looks from me to Ioni, the carafe of wine nearly empty, its contents shaking from Ella’s trembling hand.

I don’t think that she’s afraid.

She’s angry.

This is what I feared.

“Did you hear us talking about your home-world, creature?” Ioni asks, beckoning her over. Ella steps toward us, her mouth set in a thin line. “Tell me more about it. Are all its inhabitants so supple and savory? The Skoll warrior seems quite entranced.”

“I’m not sure how to respond to that question,” Ella mutters, her grip on the wine tight.

“Oh, are you confused?” Ioni pouts. “I’d like to know if your planet is full of such creatures. A species designed for pleasure does seem quite useful to the imperial project.”

“Don’t you dare invade my planet,” Ella hisses.

I need to step in, to stop her before she offends the delegation.

This is the insolence I hoped to quell.

“Return to the kitchen, Ella,” I growl.

A simple “no” is all I get in return before Ioni pushes a hand toward me.

She likes playing this game.

“So there’s a spark of rebellion in your kind,” Ioni murmurs, leaning forward. “Interesting. I wonder what would happen if I mixed your DNA with something obedient. Would I get this kind of soft body and all the dumb obedience of a herd animal—”

She reaches for Ella, but she doesn’t finish the thought. Just as Ella did when I scooped her into my lap on her first feast night here, she swings her hand to slap the Hyperborean. I catch her wrist, likely saving her life; striking a magister is a grave offense.

In response she empties the rest of her carafe into my face.

I wipe the sweet red wine away from my face, my tattoos beginning to blaze as anger fills me. The room is a void of sound, Ioni gaping at the two of us while Ella watches me in stunned silence.

I stand, my hand still locked around Ella’s wrist. The carafe clatters to the floor as she drops it, the odd angle causing her to wince in pain. I hold her tight as I nod at Ioni by way of apology.

“I must address this insolence,” I growl. “Please carry on without me. Lucien will escort you to your chambers after dinner.”

I don’t give them time to deliberate over Ella’s fate. The human yelps as I haul her over the table and hoist her over my shoulder. She starts to beat on my back when we reach the corridor to the kitchen, demanding to be put down.

Surprisingly, my tattoos don’t ache as she does so. Her touch soothes me, even when she’s angry.

And I have plans for this brash woman.