Free Vanquished by Allyson Young Page A

the
skirt—underwear, and she spied footwear set primly on the floor, a weaving of
straps over a thin sole in yet another shade of cream. Definitely a theme here, and one she really didn’t want to think about. If he
was in any way suggesting purity, he had another think coming.
    ****
    Watching his little warrior slip
into the undergarments he had pulled from where they were stored amongst his
personal belongings made him impossibly hard despite the fact she donned them
without fanfare or further protest. There was no artifice in Neira, no apparent
need to tease or titillate, yet she was overwhelmingly sexy. He hadn’t
acknowledged the underlying hope that he might spy a chosen on this journey but
somehow the paca had found its way to
the trunk. It was designed to cover most any feminine person, and its
enveloping folds would both shield and establish the sovereign’s choice. What
he wasn’t prepared for was the way his hearts—even his damaged one—swelled in
concert, or how his throat tightened at the sight of the symbolic garment
dropping past Neira’s proud head to flow over and shroud her tall, slender
form. She was born to this.
    He took the two steps necessary
to reach her, putting out a hand to smooth the fabric over her shoulders, any
pretext to touch her again and experience that indescribable feeling of
possession. He forgot that her reaction to his impulsive move had been
ingrained through intensive training, and because she was female, it mitigated
his counter response. He very nearly lost the battle this time around. Neira
feinted away from his outstretched fingers, then transferred her weight back toward him, a move barely telegraphed because of
the enveloping folds of the garment. Vayne had only a fraction of a second to
register that irony when a solid blow to his solar plexus took his breath and
she drove upward to plant her skull against his jaw.
    The blinding pain almost stole
his control, and his animal persona surged to wick through the pores of his
skin. Fighting a battle on two fronts, he struggled to take charge of his beast
and stay present while subduing Neira. He felt her shudder as he wrapped her up
and bore her to the floor under his superior weight. To his surprise, unlike
her efforts in their sparring, she immediately surrendered, lying acquiescent
beneath him while the very air in the room crackled and shimmered like a live
being.
    He carefully released her and
straightened to his full height, watching her warily as he composed his
features. She raised her head and struggled amongst the wealth of fabric to a
sitting position before looking his way. Her stare was unapologetic, yet he
detected a hint of something else buried deep in those remarkable eyes.
    “You have no cause to fear me,
Neira.” He kept his voice calm and reassuring, uncertain of how much she’d seen
or felt within him.
    After an appreciable pause, she
responded. “I’m a little on edge. Being kidnapped and all. It’s second nature to me to protect myself against unwanted touch.”
    Deciding to ignore the latter
part of her comment, he gestured to the door. “Will you control yourself and
accompany me?”
    The flash of despair he witnessed
made him wish to take it back, or at the very least pull her to him and soothe
her angst. It felt all the more important to do so, seeing as he was
responsible for it, but he knew to refrain.
    On a deep breath, she answered,
“I’m well aware there is nowhere to go, Sovereign. And I would see the other
ca…women. I’ll control myself.”
    “Only those women who have been
chosen will be there, Neira. The others must wait until we arrive on Nibiru.”
    Stiffening, she glared at him.
“Explain. I mean, why is that?”
    He wondered what rank she had
held, this fierce woman who had little patience for diplomacy. Had she given
orders, expecting them to be followed without question? Had she followed those
from her superiors? But she was trying not to alienate him, that was clear,