The Crystal Warrior

The Crystal Warrior (Chapter 4)

The Crystal Warrior 

By Maree Anderson

Chapter Four

Wulf lunged for her as she crumpled, and managed to scoop her up before her head hit the floor. His heart beat a rapid tattoo. Every muscle was tensed and battle-ready. A skirmish or an ambush he would have handled without a moment's indecision. He would have thrown back his head and roared his battle cry, waded into the fray trusting that his own strength and skill and determination would prevail.

This? He hadn't the faintest idea how to banish this fear churning in his belly, this upwelling of heart-wrenching worry over a mere woman. He was peripherally aware that he'd cradled her in his arms like she was some precious object as he turned full-circle, his gaze darting about a bare room that was still so alien, in any other circumstances it would have confounded his senses. But numerous things he'd witnessed since escaping his crystalline prison—the vast majority in fact—were alien to him. The woman's abode, the cleverness of its construction and the materials used, were just one more mind-boggling strangeness to add to all the rest.

Reflected in the shiny surfaces running the length of the room, a wild-eyed, stricken man stared back at him. A man who projected an air of indecisiveness, and worse, fear. A man who was no longer worthy to be named Lord Keeper, a leader of men. He tore his gaze from the disturbing sight, and fixed his attention on the woman's face. What was it about her that had ensnared him so thoroughly?

A notion struck him like a well-placed blow from the flat of an opponent's sword. He staggered, and sank to his knees with the woman's body draped across his lap. Could she have been struck down by the sleeping sickness that had taken so many of his people when Wulf had been but a small boy? It was a cruel affliction, caused by a spell gone awry. The weak had died quickly. The strong had lingered, wasting away to skeletal caricatures of themselves, until finally, mercifully, their hearts failed.

He clenched his jaw against his overwhelming desire to berate this world's gods for their cruelty and forced himself to calm, logical thought. She'd been hale and full of fight when he'd confronted her at the entrance to her abode. And before, when he'd kissed her, her breath had been sweet.

He transferred her limp form to the crook of one arm so that he could brush the unruly curls back from her face. Her breathing was even and unlabored. He laid the back of his hand on her forehead. Her skin did not feel overly warm or clammy. His panic eased. He told himself she'd merely become overwrought because he would not obey her by leaving at once, as she'd demanded. He would not dwell on the possibility that she might never awaken.

Wulf was not a man of unbridled passions. He valued clearheaded weighing up of the options, considering the risks and acceptable losses before fully committing himself or his men. It was a trait that made him not only a leader, but a man other leaders were wary of crossing. And yet, he had lusted after this woman, yearned to sink his cock into her feminine flesh the instant he set eyes on her. And then there was the strange connection urging him onward, leading him to her abode and punishing him when he strayed.

She'd been placed in his path to beguile him.

But to what end?

Regardless of the implications, it was an unparalleled relief to blame forces beyond his ken for his weakness. The alternative, that his unholy obsession for this woman had driven him to his knees like some lovelorn young stripling, was not one he was prepared to countenance.

Enough. Females were for seducing and bedding, bearing children and rearing them. Outside of that, he had little need of them.

He should not care about her. It would be the height of foolishness to feel anything at all for her. Such a weakness would distract him and get him killed. So, he would keep watch over her until she recovered her senses. If—when—she awoke, he would treat her as he would any other comely woman. If she balked, he would do what he always did. Convince her to fall in with his wishes. Seduce her, and when he tired of her, move on.