Her Mate and Master (Zandian Masters 6)

Eslyn jumped to obey, standing up with the infant still suckling and calling to the children outside.

“I’m sorry,” Eslyn choked to Talia as he rushed them all away from the shack. “I couldn’t fight them. Not with a newborn to care for and—”

“It’s all right. Tomis came back for me.” Her voice sounded strangled.

“Where’s Sankro?” Eslyn asked. He distinctly heard a waver of fear in her voice, and it sent a fresh shot of fury careening through his veins. He hoped they ran into Sankro again so he’d have the pleasure of knocking the male out one more time.

“Up ahead with a broken jaw,” he said. “I’ll handle him if we see him.”

Eslyn started to cry. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I wanted to go with you, but I knew they’d never let me. It was wrong, but I hoped you’d stay. Take some of the pressure off me as their only female.”

“Hush,” he said, catching Talia’s horrified expression. “Both of you are safe now. I won’t let anything happen to you or the young.”

He kept them walking all day until they reached the airship graveyard. He hoped the maps he’d studied were correct. If they were, a working airship might be available in an underground hangar he’d seen. He led them to the entrance, barely visible to the naked eye, and worked on deciphering how to open it. After several long moments, he found a lever and tripped it, sending a giant metal door creaking open.

Thank the one true Zandian star.

An intact airship stood below. If they were lucky, it still worked and had enough fuel to get them off of the planet.

~.~

“Tomis?” Talia called from her lookout above the hangar. Tomis had not yet succeeded in starting the craft.

The warrior heard the alarm in her voice and took the metal stairs two at a time to arrive back on the ground level.

A few hundred paces away, Sankro, Banf, and Elit approached, appearing ready to commit murder.

He picked up the staff and swung it in a lazy circle in front of him.

“The gun,” Talia urged, thrusting it into his hands. He’d given it to her when he put her on watch. “Use it, instead.”

“We don’t spill Zandian blood,” he explained calmly, pushing it back. “There are too few of us left.” He actually appeared cheerful at the prospect of fighting three against one. Or three against two, counting her, which, since she knew nothing about fighting, she shouldn’t be. With calm confidence, he called out to the males, “Surrender.”

Sankro laughed, and the three charged.

There was a blur of movement. The thwack of wood against bone. And three bodies fell heavily to the ground. Tomis shook his head. “Too easy,” he muttered, as if disappointed.

A memory of her father came back to her. He’d been holding a similar staff, teaching a class to his warriors. She and her sister had begged for permission to watch, and at last he’d relented, but only if they promised to sit perfectly still and silent for the duration.

They had. Because it had been fascinating to see their father spar with every male. The quick, sudden movements. Their cries of agony when he dropped them to the mat. The easy way the males rolled when they fell and sprang back to their feet, ready for another knock-down.

It was an artform. Like a dance but with immense power behind it. She and...Tara. Tara was her sister’s name. She and Tara had been fascinated.

She’d declared to her sister when they left that she planned to mate a warrior.

And here she had one.

Who didn’t want to mate her. Because if he did want to, nothing would stop this male.

Tomis tied the males’ wrists and feet and hefted the bodies one at a time, carrying them down the metal staircase and onto the airship where he buckled them into seats.

Eslyn flinched at the sight of them.

“They won’t hurt you,” Tomis rumbled. “I promise. You needn’t have anything to do with them ever again, but it’s my duty to bring them to safety, even if it’s only to the dungeon of Prince Zander’s pod.”

That seemed to relieve Eslyn.

They boarded the airship, making the children comfortable as Tomis worked on starting it.