Free Claimed: The Warriors of Nur by C.C. Coats Page A

the arching doorway that was the only entrance and squatted, resting on his heels.  He neither trusted nor distrusted the Tobba , but he didn’t know why his brother had been attacked and would remain vigilant until Erol was able to defend himself.  Though they were a warrior class, they rarely fought except in times of war, or over territory or breeding rights, and it’d been obvious that Erol was attacked by a large party, the dead left behind attesting to the involvement of at least four fully phased males.  He’d carried nothing of value, nothing to provoke an attack.  They’d found him still in his phased form, unable to shift back to his natural form due to the severity of his injuries.  Male Gwerriera Nies phased only during times of heightened rage or physical aggression, and he wondered, not for the first time, what could have precipitated it. 
    The small, rounded figure that hovered hesitantly just outside the entrance grabbed his attention.  Her gaze flitted nervously around, never touching the shadows where he rested.  With light steps, she moved quickly towards his brother’s sleeping figure, not noticing as Neron silently shadowed her.  He recognized her from his brief glimpse of her retreating form during the healing ritual; she’d been the one bathing his brother.  The open back of her miġbuda left bare all but the curve of her firmly rounded ass, the material only long enough to touch just below the plump cheeks.  Her hair, a deep bluish purple, reached well past her waist, to end just above the bend of her knees.  Novice Tobba weren’t allowed to cut their hair, and they preferred to wear it free or with small priestess locs at the temples.  She smelled of the soaps she’d used on Erol, and he was reminded again of her participation in the ritual.  He remembered her hands on his brother, how she’d gently cupped him.  Anger washed through him as he thought of those hands caressing, stroking another male.  He shook this off as irrational. He shouldn’t feel anything for this female; she was nothing to him. He should be concerned about her intentions towards his brother instead.
     
    Her gaze carefully measured the breathing of the male that lay before her.  Na’Dwah felt shame at her desertion of him during the healing ritual.  The ‘healing release’ was her least favorite part of the ritual, and as a novice, she’d only taken part in one other, and that was with a female.  His reaction had taken her by surprise, and she’d left the chamber, to the embarrassment of her Għalliema .  She’d been severely reprimanded, and rightfully so.  Irreparable damage could be done if, once begun, the ritual was not completed, and she’d jeopardized his body’ s ability to heal.  She’d come to make sure that he was as comfortable as possible.
    “DO NOT!”
    At the harshly whispered words, she dropped the hand that had reached to test his brow, dropped back to her side at the harshly whispered words.  The hairs on her nape tingled at the sudden heat that blasted through her. 
    That voice …
    Even in whispers it gave her shivers. 
    Turning from the altar; she met the gaze of the most intimidating male she’d ever seen.  She’d seen many males come to curry favor in hopes of gaining the Goddess’s blessings; some were warriors, some merchants, others farmers.  All showed reverence, usually averting their eyes or lowering their heads, even to her.  As a novice, such show of respect was not yet her due, but the Tobba were not known for their forgiveness of slights, whether intended or not.  This male did none of those things.  There was nothing submissive in the male before her.  In fact, he looked…angry?
    “Why are you here, female?” he growled suspiciously.
    Lifting her head, she tried as best she could from her height of 5’8”, to look down her nose at him.  It really was an impossibility with him being at least five inches taller, but she’d learned at a