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  Kavon snorted. “I think you are jealous, Colm. You cavort with whatever female takes your interest and toss her out of your bed the next day. You cannot seem to hold on to one. I’ll take Aurina in my bed every night to hunting a wulver any day.”

  Colm liked the free-spirited skyflyer Kavon had claimed as his, but Colm knew he would never have a woman of his own.

  Couldn’t ever claim a bondmate.

  His gut hardened, like a rock had settled there. He sucked in a breath. It didn’t matter. He enjoyed a variety of pretty females when it suited him.

  “How about we get this wulver home? You have your grand feast to prepare for.”

  Together, they hefted the beast up, and set off through the trees.

  “The skyflyer ship from the Institute of Historical Preservation is already in orbit,” Kavon said. “It is an honor to have them here to study and learn more about the First Warriors.”

  Colm already knew. Everyone in the village, across Kavon’s lands and beyond, had been talking about it. It made Colm scowl. He’d known Kavon’s mate, Aurina, would change their lives, but he didn’t have to love it. Kavon and their King, Corant Mal Rann, were controlling outside access to Markaria, trading for advanced technology—like medscopes, that could cure all manner of injuries and disease, and personal computer devices like Syncs.

  But Colm was a warrior. He lived to ensure the security of his people, and knowing there were more advanced peoples out there—and some of them were interested in his world—made him uneasy.

  “They want to explore our world,” Kavon continued. “And I want you to lead them. I’m assigning you to be their guide and protect them.”

  Colm stopped. “No.”

  “Colm—”

  “No.” Colm shook his head and stared at Kavon. “I am not a babysitter.”

  And he had his own issues—issues he’d kept secret from Kavon—that would only be exacerbated by outside influence.

  Kavon tugged on his end of the wulver and they kept walking. The tense silence was only broken by their heavy treads.

  They cleared the trees and ahead their two hargon beasts waited, grazing on the grassland where they’d left them. The large, muscular animals were favored by warriors. With their tough, black, leather-like skin, sharp horns atop their heads, and spikes down the back of their long necks, they were excellent animals for a warrior to ride into war or a fight.

  “Colm, you are my friend and my best warrior. Aurina’s cousin is the leader of this group and I need you to ensure he doesn’t get eaten by a darken beast or get lost in the Darken Wilds. Our world is not what they are used to.” The warlord turned to look out across the meadow.

  Colm followed his gaze. In the distance, the spiked peaks of the Grimore Mountains in the Darken Wilds were visible. The Wilds were a dangerous place, especially at night. They were home to all manner of beasts and desperate raiders. Kavon also had mines there and his warriors worked hard to protect the miners.

  The highest, most jagged peak caught Colm’s attention. Mount Furioso. It was where their ancestors, the First Warriors—explorers from old Earth—had crash-landed thousands of years ago. It was where they had gone on to use their advanced technology to create the nanami and give birth to the modern-day Markarians, from the wild, primitive animals they’d been before.

  With Aurina’s help, they’d discovered the crash site of the First Warriors’ ship on a wild, daring adventure into the Wilds that had almost cost Kavon his life.

  But that dangerous quest had also gained Colm’s friend his mate, and the Terran treasures they’d found, including the legendary sword, Durendal.

  “Who is this cousin of Aurina’s?” Colm asked reluctantly. He’d never let his friend down before, and he didn’t plan to start today.

  Colm took the wulver beast from Kavon and hefted it over the back of his hargon. The animal snorted steam in protest.

  “Niklas Phoenix,” Kavon answered. “He is an astro-archeologist. He studies history and works for the Institute. His woman travels with him…as head of his security.”

  Colm raised his brows. “His woman is his security?”

  A small smile flashed on Kavon’s usually serious face. Since Aurina had come into his life, Kavon had shed much of the darkness of his childhood and smiled more frequently.

  “Apparently. If Aurina has taught us anything, it is that women are capable of doing more things than we’ve ever imagined.”

  Colm coughed to hide a laugh. Aurina did not let her warrior get away with riding over her, or ordering her around. Kavon had gotten very good at asking nicely—something with which most warlords had great difficulty.

  Markarian women were the lifeblood of their society. Colm was well aware that, apart from their soft skin and delicious smells, women ran and contributed to most aspects of Markarian life. The head of Kavon’s mines was a woman, his head healer and scholar was a woman… Colm knew better than to underestimate a female. But they were not as physically strong as warriors, even with their nanami, and they were rarely warriors.

  Colm scraped a hand through his long hair. “I still think I am better off here, training the warriors, rather than traipsing around the Wilds with these skyflyers.”

  “I am still your warlord, Colm,” Kavon said quietly. “Besides, you have been training more lately than ever before. The warriors complain you drive them into the ground.” Kavon’s intense gaze drilled into him. “You keep driving yourself to be better, to hone your skills and your control.”

  “As any dedicated warrior does, warlord.” This was a topic he wasn’t going to discuss with his friend.

  “You know I hate it when you ‘warlord’ me. Anyway, you don’t have time to wiggle out of this assignment…they are due here on the hour. Will probably be waiting for us when we return to the estate.”

  Kavon slapped Colm on the shoulder. “Come, let’s get this wulver beast back to be skinned and the meat delivered to the kitchens. Then you will need to prepare your sword.”

  Colm frowned. “Why? I don’t need my sword to eat a feast.”

  “I have promised our visitors a sword-fighting display before the feast. A fitting welcome to Markaria, don’t you think?” Kavon swung up onto his hargon beast.

  Colm groaned and grabbed the reins of his hargon. The Great Warrior grant me patience. He heaved out a breath. The training he had planned, followed by a quiet dinner and possibly talking a willing female into his bed, looked like a distant dream.

  Now, he would have to spend his time entertaining goggle-eyed outsiders who considered him a dumb, unthinking, fighting machine.

  He nudged his hargon into a fast pace. Hopefully he could ride out his frustrations and at least face the skyflyers with his famous warrior control intact.

  Chapter Two

  Colm stood by Kavon’s side in the great hall. His hair was still wet from washing, and he was wearing new leather trousers—ones not stained with the blood of his hunt.

  With his enhanced hearing, he could tell a group was approaching from the corridor outside. Footsteps and quiet murmurs.

  Aurina entered first. The former deep-space scout was smiling, her pale skin glowing and her sunset-colored hair falling around her shoulders. When her gaze fell on her bondmate, her smile widened. Today, she was wearing typical Markarian dress—a leather corset and a long skirt that hit at mid-calf. She usually wore trousers and shirts, but she’d had to accommodate for the growing mound of her belly.

  Kavon was going to be a father. Colm slid his hands behind his back, his fingers lacing tightly together. He was happy for his friend. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Kavon. But the idea was like salt into a wound Colm didn’t even know he had.

  Colm would never be a father.

  Aurina’s laughter brought Colm back. When Kavon wasn’t dragging her to their rooms, she spent most of her time helping with Kavon’s mining operations. The woman was fascinated with rocks, and now assisted the mining superintendent.

  Th
e man who followed Aurina into the hall was tall and broad across the shoulders, with dark hair. This had to be Niklas Phoenix. If he’d been born on Markaria, he would have been a warrior. To think he was a scholar was strange. His blue gaze moved around the hall in a way that told Colm the man had catalogued everything in an instant.

  For a second, Colm didn’t really pay attention to the woman by Phoenix’s side, but once Colm focused on her, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed her the second she’d moved into the hall.

  She moved like the darken beasts. A smooth, steady glide with the promise she could explode into action. She wore some sort of dark armor that molded to her tall, slim form. Markarians all had dark shades of hair and dark bronze skin. This woman had hair like moonlight and eyes the color of jewels in a box.

  And she was deadly.

  Colm tensed, his hand itching to reach for his sword. He was a warrior, and even without his nanami buzzing at him, he sensed danger.

  “Be nice,” he heard Phoenix murmur to the woman.

  She didn’t respond.

  Another woman stepped forward. Colm turned his attention to her and his eyes narrowed.

  She looked almost as deadly as the first, even though they were a complete contrast. She wore a black-and-gray uniform, and stood with a straight spine. Where the first woman was lean, this woman’s uniform was filled with toned curves. Colm let himself look. Markarian women were leaner and muscular, so he found the curves…intriguing.

  Not that this woman was soft. Far from it. She was younger than the other, and the way she held herself—she kept her feet spread, her balance even—he could tell she was ready to react. She had laser pistols holstered at her hips, and some strange black cylinder dangled from her belt.

  Her hair…he sucked in another breath. It looked like sunlight and gold. It was pulled back tightly in a long tail that swayed behind her. Her skin was a golden color, and her face was alert and serious—she didn’t think she was here to enjoy herself.

  Her gaze lifted and met his. Colm held it. Her eyes were a fascinating pale green.

  He saw her nostrils flare, like she was scenting the air…scenting him. He suppressed a frown. She couldn’t have nanami like Markarians, so was she…enhanced in some other way?

  It was a little mystery Colm intended to solve.

  “Ho-ly cow.” The piping voice broke the silence. A young girl pushed forward and did a graceful twirl. “This place is rocking. Almost like a castle.” A gusty sigh. “I always wanted to live in a castle.”

  Colm’s eyes widened. This girl was in her late teens, and her hair was a shocking shade of pink. Like the flower of a wenga vine.

  The girl’s bold gaze landed on Colm, taking in his chest and form in a way that made him damned uncomfortable.

  “Holy muscles.” She peered at him more closely. “Big guy, your muscles have muscles.”

  Phoenix cleared his throat. “Lala…it’s polite to greet people before you start commenting on their appearance.” He shook his head. “Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t comment on anyone’s appearance.”

  The pink-haired girl shrugged and pulled something from her top pocket. She popped it in her mouth and started chewing. “You got it, Nik. My lips are sealed.”

  A look crossed the man’s face and it told Colm the man wasn’t buying the girl’s assurances.

  Kavon moved forward and all gazes moved to him.

  “I am Kavon Mal Dor. Welcome to Markaria.” He put his arm around Aurina and tugged her to his side.

  Colm watched the woman press into her warrior’s side. Love, security, acceptance.

  He’d never seen a connection like theirs growing up. All he could remember was his father’s shouts and fists and his mother’s screams and sobs.

  He looked away from Kavon and Aurina and noticed the golden-haired woman watching him with a curious frown.

  Looked like she didn’t miss much. Colm would have to remember that.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Warlord Mal Dor. I’m Niklas Phoenix, Director of Acquisitions for the Institute of Historical Preservation.” The man came forward to shake hands. “My cousins have…had a lot to say.”

  Kavon’s teeth flashed. “Aurina’s brothers are not particularly thrilled she mated me and stayed on Markaria.”

  Niklas smiled. “That would be putting it mildly.”

  Aurina sniffed. “My brothers are…overprotective.” She raised a brow at her mate. “Unfortunately, my husband is as well.”

  “They love you,” Niklas said. “We are extremely excited to be here. We’ve been studying the information and images that Aurina sent through regarding the discovery of the ship of the Earth explorers. The First Warriors. Fascinating stuff. And—” the man’s blue eyes gleamed “—we’ve found some extra information that should prove very interesting for you, Warlord Mal Dor.”

  “Call me Kavon.” When Aurina elbowed him, he glanced at her, then back at Nik. “Please.”

  The astro-archeologist smiled. “Kavon. But before we go any further, let me introduce my team.” He lifted a hand at the tall woman by his side. “This is my partner, Nera.”

  The woman didn’t say a word, just gave a slow nod.

  Colm’s instincts still itched. He would not turn his back on this one.

  “Seriously, you guys don’t want to mess with Nera.” The pink-haired one called Lala blew a huge bubble that snapped with a loud pop. “She might not be as big as you guys, but she’ll make Tanari hash out of you with her sword quicker than you can say—”

  “Lala,” Nik said with exaggerated patience.

  “Sorry.” The girl’s smile said she was nothing of the sort. “Nera is badass, especially if anyone tries to hurt Nik.”

  Nera looked at Lala.

  The girl’s mouth snapped shut. “Right. Quiet now.” She made a zipping motion across her lips. Then she leaned toward Colm, a conspiratorial look on her face. “I think I just wet myself a little bit.”

  “This is Lala,” Nik said. “She’s a student assistant on this trip. It’s a part of her studies.”

  The girl nodded. “I haven’t decided what I’m going to specialize in yet. Explosives, weapons creation, astro-archeology, cooking…I’m keeping my options open.”

  Nik rolled his eyes to the ceiling, and even the woman, Nera, looked like a faint smile was threatening.

  “And this is Agent Honor Brandall.” Nik swept his hand at the other woman.

  The blonde stepped forward.

  “She’s Nera’s second-in-command on the security team on our ship the Magellan.”

  Kavon nodded. “I would like to introduce my second, and your guide for your expedition on Markaria. Colm Mal Kor.”

  Colm let his gaze touch on all of them, lingering on the blonde. Her gaze was direct. “Kavon has informed me we are going to welcome you in the Markarian way.”

  “And what way is that?” Agent Brandall asked. She had a smoky voice that Colm liked.

  “Swords, ale and food.” He locked his gaze with hers. “Do you like fighting, Agent Brandall?”

  She shot him a smile laced with challenge. “I just happen to love it, Warrior Mal Kor.”

  ***

  Honor stood with her hands behind her back and listened to the clash of metal on metal.

  Sunlight glinted off the swords swinging in the open-air arena. Many locals were seated on the long rows of stone benches, watching the impressive display.

  She wasn’t sure if they were there for the sweat-slicked flex of hard muscles, or the exceptional sword-fighting.

  Honor was watching the sword-fighting moves. For big men, the Markarian warriors moved surprisingly well. She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d heard all about the nanami their bodies were infused with. She had a report about the microscopic organisms on her Sync, and apart from knowing they improved the Markarians’ speed, strength and reflexes, she didn’t know much else. Honor hated having a gap in her intel.

  She saw a warrior block the swing of anot
her. The two men strained against each other.

  She didn’t use a sword. Nera did, but her boss’ blade was nothing like the huge swords the barbarians had. Honor had to admit, the weapons were gorgeous—long, straight blades with decorative points near the hilts that could easily cause injury to an inexperienced user.

  Honor preferred her pistols, and for hand-to-hand combat, her stun-staff. It might not have the elegant beauty of a blade, but in her hands it was just as deadly.

  Her gaze drifted to the large warrior in the center of the group. Mal Kor.

  He was an inch or so taller than most of the others. He swung his sword with power and control, his long, black hair brushing his broad shoulders.

  The warrior could move. She memorized his moves, where he placed his feet, how he held his sword. Still, she was honest enough to admit it was damned hard to keep her eyes on the fighting when her gaze kept straying down to the flex of his muscles. Why couldn’t these guys wear shirts?

  Most of the men she worked with were far smaller than these warriors. Instantly, her thoughts turned to her last lover. She fought back a grimace. On her last posting, she’d made the terrible mistake of getting involved with an engineer on her ship. Jon had said he found her strength refreshing. What he’d meant was he’d been up for something different…for a little while. Then he’d started with the little digs: “Why don’t you dress up more, Honor?” “Why don’t you take a break from training?” “Why can’t you put me first?” When she’d caught him getting a blow job from a nurse from the medbay, Honor had been done.

  She’d sworn off men, especially men she worked with, for the foreseeable future.

  “How would you take one of these warriors down?” a cool voice asked.

  Honor turned her head and saw Nera had moved up beside her. And Honor hadn’t heard or sensed a thing. Damn. She was learning so much from Nera Darc, but she had yet to master the level of stealth that Nera had.

  She turned her attention back to the warriors, back to Colm. She watched him slam his sword against his opponent, driving the man back. “Well, they’re strong, and with these nanami, they’re also fast.” She watched Colm spin, raising his sword above his head. Wow. “Um, they like to get in close. Laser pistol from a distance would be a definite advantage.”