will, controlling her wild qwi . Her hammering heartbeat slowed. Her breathing became more regular. And the roaring flame of her qwi , the spiritual energy that all warriors learned to harness, was tamed. Slowly, she restrained it, down to a flickering flame, then nothing.
She would show this warlord nothing of herself.
He had already unbalanced her far too much.
Tarak remained silent, inclining his head, as if curious. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she caught the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. The faint moonlight filtering in through a high window revealed only so much.
A sliver of fear crept into Amina’s heart.
This was Tarak Chul, the infamous conqueror of the Borderlands.
She was as good as dead.
Tarak took a slow, deep breath, as if savoring something. Amina became aware of his complex, masculine scent. It wrapped around her, rich and earthy, reminding her of a new spring morning after the rain.
Unexpected desire spread through her, making her nipples hard, warmth seeping between her thighs.
Her body betrayed her.
Tarak didn’t move.
“What are you doing, Katach ?” She used the old word, from the language of her people. Katach. Conqueror. “Call your guard. Kill me.”
“Now why would I do that?” He leaned in close, so his face was almost touching hers. “An Inue as skilled as you is a rarity. But you won’t kill me now. You’ve missed the one and only chance you will ever get.”
“How can you be sure of that, Katach?”
“I know you now, little Inue. The feel of your body, your scent, the force of your qwi . You can’t hide from me.”
“You’re quite sure of yourself, Katach .”
“I have to be. Comes with the territory.” His voice was soft, almost gentle.
This man seemed so different from the rumors. The stories told of Tarak Chul, the Conqueror, the Warlord, painting him as a ruthless, fearsome warrior. Some superstitious folks even thought he was something other , part demon, perhaps.
But the man pressing his body into hers radiated sensual heat. He was all too human. And he sounded a fraction amused. He was toying with her. Amina pushed away the cold fury that threatened to overtake her, finding that elusive centre of serene, still nothingness within her mind.
It usually worked.
But not this time.
Tarak shifted his weight, lessening the pressure on her body. “If you promise not to kill me, I’ll release you now.”
“You know I can’t make that promise.”
“True.”
“Get to the point, Katach . Enough with the games. I’ve failed. I know what the price is.”
“There is no price.” She could feel the warm caress of his breath on her cheek. The fine hairs on the back of Amina’s neck tingled. This was too much.
In a swift, fluid motion, Tarak rolled off her, springing to his feet. He retrieved her longknife from the floor. “I can call for my guard now, and you will die, or you can retreat, and leave alive. It’s your choice, Inue.”
Amina sat up from the bed, rising to her feet. This was absurd. Was Tarak Chul allowing her to escape?
He was mocking her.
“Go, little Inue. Live to fight another day. That’s one of the strengths of your people, isn’t it? You know when to retreat.”
Amina felt for the thin wire garrote concealed in a hidden pocket at her waist. She had one weapon left. She’d packed light for this job, mindful of the high fortress walls she’d needed to scale. She would kill for a poison dart right now. She hadn’t expected it to be this difficult.
She could try to use the garrote, but without the element of surprise, she knew her chances of succeeding were slim.
She knew when she was outmatched.
Tarak was twice her size. In one on one combat, he had the advantage.
“Your arrogance will be your undoing, Warlord.” Amina stepped across the room, fighting to get her emotions under control. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she had failed to make a kill. And for
She would show this warlord nothing of herself.
He had already unbalanced her far too much.
Tarak remained silent, inclining his head, as if curious. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she caught the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. The faint moonlight filtering in through a high window revealed only so much.
A sliver of fear crept into Amina’s heart.
This was Tarak Chul, the infamous conqueror of the Borderlands.
She was as good as dead.
Tarak took a slow, deep breath, as if savoring something. Amina became aware of his complex, masculine scent. It wrapped around her, rich and earthy, reminding her of a new spring morning after the rain.
Unexpected desire spread through her, making her nipples hard, warmth seeping between her thighs.
Her body betrayed her.
Tarak didn’t move.
“What are you doing, Katach ?” She used the old word, from the language of her people. Katach. Conqueror. “Call your guard. Kill me.”
“Now why would I do that?” He leaned in close, so his face was almost touching hers. “An Inue as skilled as you is a rarity. But you won’t kill me now. You’ve missed the one and only chance you will ever get.”
“How can you be sure of that, Katach?”
“I know you now, little Inue. The feel of your body, your scent, the force of your qwi . You can’t hide from me.”
“You’re quite sure of yourself, Katach .”
“I have to be. Comes with the territory.” His voice was soft, almost gentle.
This man seemed so different from the rumors. The stories told of Tarak Chul, the Conqueror, the Warlord, painting him as a ruthless, fearsome warrior. Some superstitious folks even thought he was something other , part demon, perhaps.
But the man pressing his body into hers radiated sensual heat. He was all too human. And he sounded a fraction amused. He was toying with her. Amina pushed away the cold fury that threatened to overtake her, finding that elusive centre of serene, still nothingness within her mind.
It usually worked.
But not this time.
Tarak shifted his weight, lessening the pressure on her body. “If you promise not to kill me, I’ll release you now.”
“You know I can’t make that promise.”
“True.”
“Get to the point, Katach . Enough with the games. I’ve failed. I know what the price is.”
“There is no price.” She could feel the warm caress of his breath on her cheek. The fine hairs on the back of Amina’s neck tingled. This was too much.
In a swift, fluid motion, Tarak rolled off her, springing to his feet. He retrieved her longknife from the floor. “I can call for my guard now, and you will die, or you can retreat, and leave alive. It’s your choice, Inue.”
Amina sat up from the bed, rising to her feet. This was absurd. Was Tarak Chul allowing her to escape?
He was mocking her.
“Go, little Inue. Live to fight another day. That’s one of the strengths of your people, isn’t it? You know when to retreat.”
Amina felt for the thin wire garrote concealed in a hidden pocket at her waist. She had one weapon left. She’d packed light for this job, mindful of the high fortress walls she’d needed to scale. She would kill for a poison dart right now. She hadn’t expected it to be this difficult.
She could try to use the garrote, but without the element of surprise, she knew her chances of succeeding were slim.
She knew when she was outmatched.
Tarak was twice her size. In one on one combat, he had the advantage.
“Your arrogance will be your undoing, Warlord.” Amina stepped across the room, fighting to get her emotions under control. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she had failed to make a kill. And for
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