Jasmine held out her arms with her palms up. “Stop! Don’t hurt her!”
“We can always take another war bride,” Kolt rasped, tightening his grip on the female in his grasp. He shifted the arm around her waist higher. “I wouldn’t mind having this one for myself.”
She snarled at this, thrashing fruitlessly in his arms. Despite Kolt’s claims, I knew that the last thing my battle chief desired was a human female for himself. I also knew he would not hesitate to drag her onboard if it meant winning the face-off.
“Don’t do this, Skye,” Jasmine called to the woman Kolt held. “I need you to stay here. I need you in charge now.”
Skye grimaced at this, shooting daggers at me with her eyes and giving no indication she was giving up.
Then Jasmine turned to me. “I’ll come willingly. Just release my friend.”
“Do your friends promise not to attack us again?” Kolt asked, even though I knew he didn’t consider the attack much of a threat.
“They promise,” Jasmine answered for them, her gaze not leaving mine.
I gave a single nod, and Jasmine matched it. Then she pivoted back to the woman Kolt held. “Don’t worry, Skye. We’ll see each other again.” She glanced over her head to the others. “We all will. I promise.”
Skye stopped struggling, her fiery expression fading. “Fine.” She attempted to twist her head to look at my battle chief. “You can let me go.”
Kolt leaned down. “What if I don’t want to let you go?”
He was toying with her, enjoying instilling fear in her that same way he reveled in instilling fear in anyone who threatened the Vandar. I cleared my throat roughly, and he caught my stern gaze.
“Do not let me catch you again, female,” he growled. “I might not be persuaded to release you a second time.”
Then he dropped his arms, stepping back and out of her way as she staggered forward. She put a hand to her throat and glared at Kolt as if she’d happily flay him alive.
My battle chief gave her a maddening wink before shifting his attention to the other women who were with her. “Does anyone else want to join the war bride?”
“No,” Jasmine said before anyone could speak. “They’re all leaving now.”
As if released by some invisible force, the figures receded into the storm, although I suspected they hadn’t gone far.
Kolt strode up the ramp just in front of the raiders escorting Jasmine, his expression betraying no clue he’d just rebuffed an attack by female rebels and threatened to keep one as his personal hostage.
Jasmine, who was right behind him, did not hide her emotions quite so well. She stomped up the ramp, quickly closed the distance between us, and jabbed a finger directly into my chest.
"You might have the power to force me onto this ship and threaten my friends,” she said, her voice low and oozing venom, "but you don't have the power to make me like it. And you definitely don't have the power to make me like you."
I stared down at her, genuinely speechless. Maybe her friends were right about her making a poor war bride.
The fury in her eyes was incandescent as was the accusation. She held my gaze for another burning moment, then pushed past me. She actually pushed me, her shoulder connecting withmy side with enough force that I had to shift my weight slightly. Then she was moving into the transport without looking back.
I stood immobilized with shock, as my raiders stared at me with identical expressions. No one spoke to the Qeth’rex that way, no one challenged me, and no one in their right mind dared push me aside like I was an inconvenient obstacle.
Then my battle chief opened his mouth, presumably to suggest an appropriate punishment.
“She willnotbe punished," I said, my voice rougher than I’d intended. "No matter what she says to me. No matter what she does. Make sure everyone understands."
"Raas—" Kolt started to register his disapproval.
"That's an order."
I closed my eyes briefly, trying to assure myself that what I felt was nothing but lust. She was beautiful, desirable, and would provide the type of challenge I craved. That was all this was, and all it could be. I was a warlord of the Vandar, and one tasked with fighting off a resurgence of our sworn enemy. I did not have time for anything more.
Retreating into the transport, I registered the ramp rising behind me and the hydraulics hissing as they sealed us in. The dark interior was compact, with just enough room for the raiders to pile in and stand with arms gripping overhead straps and bars.
Jasmine wasn’t tall enough to reach a strap or bar, and her gaze darted nervously around her as the enormous raiders filled the space, moving ever closer and dwarfing her. When the engines roared to life and the ship lifted off the ground, she stumbled,her arms flying wide for balance. Her palm flattened against first one then another raider’s stomach, and she jerked her hands back as if they’d touched flame.
