Seize the hunter, p.1
Seize the Hunter, page 1
Dedication
To my fans. Thank you for your constant support.
Chapter One
Princess Ari of the planet Falconia disliked the warriors who flew in the Falcoan Army, but none punctured her thoughts like Commander Rurik of the Fifth. She hated him and his smug, self-confident attitude. He’d thought himself so superior when they were children—swooping down to knock her on her ass so that her new gown would get covered in muck, or overtaking her in games because of his naturally enhanced stamina and strength—and all because he was born a falcon shifter. His kind was rare and given the utmost consideration, as they were destined to lead the armies that guarded her home planet from outsiders. All other warriors turned after birth, their powers enhanced by choice, not fate. Rurik was a falcon by destiny and it made him impossibly arrogant to deal with. He’d grown up training at her home in the palace and constantly around to torment her.
And now he was coming back.
Well, she had news for him. She was no longer the awkward, gangly girl he’d known. She’d gone through puberty late, very late, but her powers had come to her, as they did all non-shifting Falconians. She’d been sixteen seasons, nearly twenty-four years old according to the calendar they observed from the Old Way, and her father had begun to worry that she’d never bloom. Too bad Rurik had been deployed to his post merely days before it happened. She would’ve loved to prove him wrong about her.
It didn’t matter. Now she was a powerful, envied princess, and soon she’d be queen. With her mother gone, she was the sole female of power on their planet. She controlled the armies. She controlled Rurik. And, with the evening’s coronation ceremony well upon her, she’d control the entire planet. Her father would step aside, for men did not rule as well as women. Falconian males’ blood ran too hot.
That is why Rurik was coming back. All commanders were to be in attendance, for tonight was the shifting of power. But first, there was another ceremony—one that took place this very afternoon. Today she would drink from the sacred Chalice and awake next to the man who was to be their future king, her husband, her mate, her eternal lover. And it couldn’t come too soon, as far as she was concerned.
Whereas normal women of their society could take as many lovers as they pleased, she was held to a higher standard. Until she married, she was allowed three semi-lovers with whom all pleasures of the flesh were allowed but one—the final claiming of her heart. If things got too close, she was obligated to end it. In a life that kept her in front of the eyes of all, she longed for someone to hold her in the night, to look at her with eyes not judging but seeing. She wanted the comfort and safety of a man who would not leave her.
Her first lover, a traveler and diplomat who visited them soon after her powers had come to her all those years ago, had been to spite Rurik. He’d been an enfem, a slender, pale man who spoke and acted as far from a hot-blooded warrior as possible without being an actual woman. She still cursed that wasted pick. Whereas he did hold her, he also cried most of the night speaking of his feelings. Falconian women were stronger than he was. The second man she thought she could someday love, until she realized that lust and love were two different things. The third was a practical choice, if not her best one. He’d been an older man, a trainer who instructed more than participated.
Ari looked at her reflection in the still water that made up one wall of her bedroom. She could touch the wetness, but magic kept it from caving in on her and soaking her. It was a good thing too. Her hair had taken three skilled hairdressers four hours to do. The waist-length red locks were twisted around strands of wire to keep it in place and then bent around her head to fashion an intricately beautiful crown. It towered above her, five hand spans high in the front and tapered down to a half span in the back.
Her gown was of the finest weave, held into place with a thick metal band that wrapped around her chest and back, leaving her tanned shoulders bare. The band was bent to fit her body perfectly, molding along the top of each breast to keep the flowing material that hung from it from falling down. The royal dark-red material moved with her, clinging and releasing her curves with each step as if it were air.
Holding her arms to the side, she waited as her attendants slipped silver coils onto her arms. They wound around from shoulder to wrist, decorated with the shiny black stones found only in the dark depths of Falconia’s lucid waters. A matching stone hung from the chain that dangled from her hair, down the part in the middle of her head.
Black makeup outlined her large blue eyes, made all the more noticeable by a dark red stripe that stretched from temple to temple, encircled both eyes and crossed over the bridge of her nose. The red matched the color on her lips.
Turning, she looked to the mating bed that had been prepared in the center of the room. The Chalice never chose poorly or with cruel intentions. It was neutral and often its choice led to happiness for both parties. At least, it gave a happy start. What the two people did with the mating given them was up to the couple and there had been those who ruined a good thing.
Unlike the peasants who could draw a circle in dirt to form the mating circle, her bed was that of a princess. It was high up on a raised platform, so high she couldn’t see the top of it from her place on the floor. Above it, the water wall curved with the true ceiling, giving her a reflection of thick gold and red pillows encircling the edges and an abundance of silk to lie upon. Sweet herbs were scattered on the floor around it. So strong was the ancient spell, no one could cross the herbs and reach the bed. Only the Chalice’s magic could break through the boundary, carrying her and her husband inside. She knew that even if she were inside, none could see her. All they would see was the view she saw now…a reflection of an empty bed.
Inside the herbal circle, it would be as dark as deep space. The magical boundary around the edge would keep them from falling as she and her mate consummated what was to be. Whether they shared names before was up to them. Some married couples did, others didn’t. Ari had decided to let the male’s actions guide hers. Clearly, since it was her marriage ceremony, he would know who she was.
“Princess?” Vara, her best friend and head attendant spoke quietly, signifying that they were done and it was time.
In all there were ten attendants, all daughters from noble families. Vara was a cousin, as was her younger sister Petra. Should Ari die, Vara would take the throne. Some thought Ari foolish for keeping Vara as a close and trusted friend, but she wasn’t scared. Vara would never hurt her. Their bond was too close for that. Besides, Ari knew Vara’s deepest secret. She longed to be in the armies, flying into battle. Politics were too tame for her. Someday, Ari hoped to give Vara a chance at her dream, though she hadn’t told her cousin as much.
Petra was just a child—the youngest attendant honored because she was family. Maura, Aurelie, Thora, and Lena came from the different providences around the queendom. She knew them from childhood and thought well enough of them to honor them.
Lucia, Adria, Jael and Clarinda were all from a neighboring castle. Their dark skin was a beautiful brown, enhanced by the beauty of their big, round, brown and green eyes. Their father, Lord Viceious, was Supreme General to all the armies and a man Ari had dealt with on many occasions. Their being honored as attendants was merely politics. She had no close connection to the four girls.
The women had been unusually quiet, as was tradition, giving her time to contemplate whatever it was she should have been contemplating on this day. Unfortunately, Commander Rurik was the thing that kept popping into her head. She knew it was because she’d heard his name that morning, whispered in girlish excitement. A maid had seen him arrive with his men, swooping down from the skies to land within the palace walls.
“I am ready,” Ari stated, lifting her chin. With a small wave, she parted the liquid along the water wall, creating an archway. “Join the others in the hall. Vara will walk with me.”
The attendants rushed from the room through the new door, leaving Ari alone with Vara.
“You’re distracted.” Vara threaded her arm through Ari’s. Her cousin was a slender woman, but had the skill of the best warriors when it came to using a talon glove. With it, she could be deadly. Looks really were deceiving. Vara’s purple gaze, wavy brown hair and dark brown complexion were the envy of many women.
“Yea.” Ari nodded. “Rurik is here.”
“Ah, I remember him. He’s the one you gave a blood oath to avenge yourself against.” Vara gave a small laugh. “Is that what you’re doing on your Mating Day? You’re plotting revenge for childish hurts?”
“Childish?” Ari gasped. “You call wanting a little vengeance for being knocked off a platform into a bed of dung in my coronation dress on the day I was crowned as a princess a small affair? It’s permanently recorded in the Book of Ari as historical fact. I can’t erase that. Only three moons ago I saw it again when I was flipping through my life.”
“Ah, perhaps not.”
“Or when he slipped that love note under my pillow, making me believe that Mikael wanted to marry me? I made an ass out of myself in front of the whole palace.”
“Mikael is still very sexy. I don’t blame you for being mad about that.”
“He still looks at me as if I might try and kiss him again,” Ari mumbled.
“You did embarrass him by doing it in front of the other flyers,” Vara said. She pulled Ari’s arm, urging her to walk through the door in the water wall. A long hallway stretched before them, angling toward the ground, leading directly to the hall.
“Nae. I cannot prove it, but I’m sure it was a prank. Rurik is the only man who’d have the nerve to do such a thing. He didn’t deny it.” Even now, remembering the simple, horribly unpoetic words, she felt a twinge in her heart.
“That’s mean,” Vara whispered needlessly.
“I’ll show Commander Rurik that I am no one to be trifled with.” Ari smiled at her cousin. Yea, she would show him and when the supreme power to rule was hers, she’d make sure he and his legion of men were shipped to the other side of the planet. He would spend his days protecting Falconia’s marshes from outside invasions.
Commander Rurik smiled as he entered the palace’s great hall in the center eye of the castle. They called it the “center eye” because the castle looked like the stylized shape of an eye when they flew over it. Two curved walls formed the battlements along the outside. Yards and gardens were where the whites would normally be and in the iris was the main palace tower.
It was strange being back in the palace after so many years away. He’d grown up there, as did the other natural born falcon shifters. They had been treated like royalty, given the best education, trained to be lethal warriors and yet held apart by what they were. Being natural born gave them one place in Falconia’s society—the life of a commander. Other warriors chose to fly in the armies; the pure bloods were born to do it.
He would be expected to marry a woman with little money and power. His position afforded him any comfort and it would honor his name to elevate a woman who had little, and help to support her family, but he wasn’t allowed to marry a nobleman’s daughter—not with his bloodline. He never fully understood how he could be so revered, so trusted to protect lives, and yet so undesired as a son because of his falcon birth. Honor kept the commanders from rebelling, and they never thought of taking over the planet, though they easily could.
The pure falcons had ruled before and they’d nearly lost the planet due to their rash actions. After, it became acknowledged that women would lead, not hot-blooded men. And since pure falcons were the most hot-blooded of all, it wasn’t smart to let them reproduce with nobles of power. The fear ran deep that the actions of the past would be repeated. Besides, none could argue that the women did not do a superior job in making decisions and managing politics. Half of politics was dinner parties and hosting dignitaries anyway. Kings made for excellent bodyguards to their women, not to mention they raised the children, training them to defend themselves. Since Falconian men had naturally more physical energy, it only made sense that they would tend to the children.
The hall was filled, so packed with people that they spilled over into the courtyard outside. Rurik felt someone grab his arm. It was a light pull and he automatically smiled, expecting to see a female beside him. He wasn’t disappointed.
“Let me be your guest tonight, Commander,” the petite blonde said, pursing her lips. She was dressed like the middle class, in a long tunic gown of light green. The sleeves tightly fitted to her wrists with decorative buttons up the side and the rounded neck of the gown revealed a pleasing amount of cleavage. The bodice hugged her curves before flaring into a skirt at the lower hip.
“No, I want to be your guest, Commander,” another woman said, a pout in her tone. He looked at his other arm, seeing a dark-haired temptress dressed very much like the lighter one, only in blue. Only commanders, nobles and guests of honor would be seated in the hall, with others only as room permitted.
He wasn’t surprised they knew his position, for the two long, dark wings were hard to miss. Unlike the non-military Falconians, the warriors had wings. Pure born had them since birth, others grew them in time with the help of magic when they took their vow into the army. But, unlike the others, natural wings were darker and longer, reaching nearly to the ground when laid flat against the back.
The blonde put her hand on his chest, twining her fingers in the laces that held his tunic shirt together, which was more like a long jacket. The laces crossed down the front, from neck to waist, only to hang open at his legs so as not to hinder movement. The delicate silver and blue material was of the finest quality. As the woman’s fingers traced the laces down to his waist, his cock stirred in response, pressing against the tight black breeches he wore underneath.
“I’d do almost anything to see Princess Ari’s Mating Day,” the blonde said, batting her lashes with obvious meaning.
Rurik suppressed a frown as he thought of Ari. She’d been a stuck up child and rumor had it she’d turned into an even more pretentious adult. Over the years, her true nature had been more than apparent. She’d signed the order to send his men on some of the worst missions. It was as if she wanted him dead and all because he had a little crush on her when they were children. Sure, he’d teased her, but mostly because he wanted her to loosen up.
Well, they weren’t children anymore and he’d outgrown Princess Ari. Now he was an acclaimed warrior of the Fifth and if his keen sense of smell was any indication, these two women were definitely interested in helping him pass his time at the palace.
Lifting his arms, he hugged both women to his sides. “Now, ladies, don’t fight. You can both be my guest. There is plenty of room on my lap for the two of you.”
The women giggled. Rurik lifted his gaze briefly to the high throne in the middle of the hall, to where Princess Ari would drink from the Chalice. Let the princess have her mate, and blessed wings save the man chosen to it.
Already the hall was filled. Soon it would be time for the ceremony. Drinks were set out in goblets along the lower tables. Seeing some of his men in the back, he could tell they were already far into their cups by the way they moved and laughed. Rurik led the women alongside him toward the table.
“May the poor sod be whisked away on blessed wings, far from this palace and the arms of the princess,” said Lleu, his second-in-command. The others laughed at the toast.
“Likely she’ll dagger him in her bed tonight,” Ivor added. The warrior was missing an eye, thanks to Ari’s command to go into battle against the Medical Mafia who tried to set up posts in their marshes. It wasn’t that any of them were afraid of fighting the mafia, but at the time they’d been exhausted from defending the skies against pirates. It wasn’t bad, except Terrick, Commander of the Fourth, later told them his men had been without a thing to do for months. Ari seemed to have it in for them.
“Only if it was a man from the Fifth,” Rurik said, holding the two women to his side. “She does like to see our blood run, doesn’t she?”
“Oh, have you been hurt in battle, Commander?” the blonde asked.
“See now, my most pretty feather, the commander merely floats in the sky as we warriors do all the work,” Ivor said. He pointed meaningfully at the blue eye patch that covered the empty socket. “If it’s stories of battle you’d like, then come sit by me. I’ve got many wounds that could use a female’s gentle touch.”
The women giggled.
“Get your own.” Rurik laughed, taking a seat. With a swoop of his arms, he hauled both women onto his knees. “These two are my guests.”
“Then you’d better take a drink, doves.” Lleu slid a couple goblets in front of them, “Because I’m told the commander only looks cute after a few dozen goblets.”
Rurik laughed at the good-natured ribbing as Lleu handed him a goblet as well, taking it off a nearby table.
“Hey, that’s mine!” a burly warrior with long blond hair yelled.
“Go squawk to someone who cares,” Lleu answered, just as surly.
Rurik closed his eyes, ignoring the men as the blonde kissed his ear. The darker woman reached down so that her hand rested against his inner thigh, her fingers tapping lightly as she took a long drink of the stout liquor. His cock filled in response and he squirmed in his seat. Looking up at the empty throne, he thought that the ceremony couldn’t come fast enough. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ari again and the sooner he could get out of her hall the better. And the sooner she was mated, the sooner he could forget all about her by burying himself in the two willing beauties before him.
