Free Dragon Lords 4-Warrior Prince by Unknown Page B

and do something about this mess of hair."
     
    * * * *
     
    Zoran spent the first day of his marriage training the soldiers in swamp warfare. It was a grueling affair as the swamp mud was hard to walk in without shifting into Draig form. Many of the men were stupefied by the surprise workout. Though Prince Zoran was known for springing a training drill at any hour of the day or night, they hadn’t expected him to show up the first day of his marriage.
    Many of them had celebrated late the night before, believing that this day of all days would be safe to sleep in. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Zoran worked them to the bone, pushing them, yelling them into action until their bodies could take no more and they literally crawled their way back to the barracks that evening.
    Zoran smiled grimly at the irritable men. His crossed arms were splattered with muck, though not as bad as the soldiers were. "I warned you when you began this training to be prepared for anything."
    The men grumbled as they stopped in their departure to look at him. There was respect in their tired eyes. They knew Prince Zoran was the greatest warrior amongst them and, after today, his dedication would never be questioned.
    "As a warrior, you can never be caught off guard. You can never slack in your duty. If you do," Zoran stopped and pointed down the valley where the quiet village lay. Lowering his voice to a deadly growl of warning, he let his eyes shift yellow. "If you do, they die."
    The men nodded in serious understanding.
    "Now go eat," he hollered, uncrossing his arms and jumping down from his post. "You did yourselves proud today."
    With his gruff praise, their exhausted shoulders rode a little higher. Zoran made his way wearily back to the castle’s front gate. The guard saluted him as he passed and Zoran motioned dutifully back.
    His body was covered in drying sweat. He’d worked himself the hardest of all. Every muscle in his back ached. But it had been worth it, if for only a brief moment of peace. Pia never strayed far from his thoughts, though as a trained warrior, he didn’t let her distract him from his obligations to the men he commanded.
    Now that the drills were over, he frowned. The closer he stepped to his home, the more his anger renewed itself inside him. Oh, but she was an aggravating wench! One minute he wanted to kiss her in rough mind-altering passion, the next he wanted to strangle every last breath from her beautifully formed body. He wanted to tie her up and throw her into Crystal Lake. Hell, he wanted to tie her up and throw her onto his bed.
    That thought in mind, he quickened his pace. The oak door to his home slid up with a stern voice command. Stepping inside, he felt it shut automatically behind him. Stopping, he sniffed the air, looking around. All was deadly still. He took a step forward.
    "Pia?" he called softly, listening for her to stir. There was no answer. He stepped forward, frowning to see the gown he’d bought her in the barren fireplace.
    "Uh," he heard her voice groan. "Got it."
    He frowned. She was in the bathroom. Stepping up to the door, he took a single finger and pushed it open. His eyes rounded in a mix of horror and utter disbelief. He had to blink several times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
    Pia jumped at the sound of the door. Lowering her hands from her hair, she pointed the knife at him and darkly asked, "You ever hear of knocking?"
    "What are you doing to your hair?" Zoran demanded, unable to take his eyes away. Half of Pia’s locks were still firmly attached to her head. The other half was sprinkled over the sink and floor in long discarded curls.
    Pia turned back to the stranger in the mirror and smiled. If she hadn’t been sure about her new haircut before, she was now. She grinned happily, lifting the knife to her longer side.
    Willfully, and to his dismay, she grabbed a heavy chunk and sliced through it, cutting it off at about chin length. Then, lifting her handful of