First she was taken. Now she will be shared.
After the princess she serves is given as a mate to a powerful Ketturan warrior, Falise soon ends up as an unwilling passenger on a spacecraft headed for a far-off world. More disturbing still, she quickly discovers that as far as her captors are concerned, her body no longer belongs to her.
As the princess is stripped bare and claimed roughly by the ship's captain, four of his companions set their eyes on Falise. The brutishly handsome barbarians plan to share her and use her in every manner possible, but first they must train her. She will learn to obey without question and take everything they give her or she will be punished in ways more shameful than she could ever have imagined. But when the journey is over, will she still seek to return home?
Taken by the Warriors is a standalone book which is the second entry in the
Owned & Shared series. It includes spankings and sexual scenes.
* * * Excerpt * * *
Chapter 1
Outwardly, Princess Lanamoar tried to appear calm as she sat on the edge of the bed having her hair wound around a jewel-studded hair ring. Inwardly, calm had retreated quite a long time ago. Her hands were clenched tight in her lap to keep them from shaking.
“My princess,” Falise said softly.
Lana’s gaze shifted from her lap to the mirror to look at Falise, her petite maid and frequent confidante. Lana knew it wasn’t strictly correct, in terms of royal protocol, to entrust a servant with her secrets, but she had complete faith in the girl’s loyalty.
“We could leave,” Falise whispered. “I have a bag packed for each of us. You have friends who will take you in.”
There. That was why Lana trusted her. Falise would conspire to help Lana escape a fate she didn’t want. No matter the consequences.
“I won’t put my friends or their families in that position.”
“But this isn’t right,” Falise said, her dark curls bouncing from the fierceness of the way she shook her head. “Your sister was the one who was to be taken off-world. Her marriage was arranged in part because of her unexpected and sometimes bad behavior. Just because she’s run off, it doesn’t mean you should be traded to savages in her place! It’s not fair in the least! You’re always done your duty. You’ve been the perfect example of a princess always and—”
“Quiet now,” Lana said, her eyes stinging. Fairness had nothing to do with the arrangement.
The high color in Falise’s cheeks spoke to the fury she felt at the change in Lanamoar’s circumstances. Tears brightened Falise’s large dark eyes, but she blinked them away.
“We will hope that my friend Wyxler can convince the king. Or that someone else will appeal more to the barbarian,” Lana said, trying to soothe the girl’s nerves and her own. “There will be many lovely girls at the banquet. My father has made it known to the man that he can withdraw from the contract and choose another instead of me, if I’m not to his taste.”
“Keep your eyes elsewhere than his face,” Falise urged.
“I will try to avoid him completely,” Lana said, glancing at her eyes, which were decorated with delicate makeup, exquisitely applied. Lana’s sister Brandese was very much the more beautiful, except for her eyes. Lana’s eyes were violet, a color so rare that upon first meeting her, strangers were quite struck by them. From what she’d heard of the barbarian though, she doubted he’d be looking at her face. These off-world savages cared about war and maintaining satisfactory numbers of progeny. For them, one young woman would be much the same as another. Lana hoped so at least, for she wanted him to choose anyone but her.
* * *
Varse ignored the packet of clothes that had been sent as a “gift” from the foreign ruler.
“An intentional insult?” Detrey asked, folding his arms across his chest.
“Uncertain,” Varse said.
Over the generations, numerous other nations had sought to conquer or transform the Ketturan people in various ways. As a show of sovereignty, Ketturans had sworn to wear and show their own colors always. The night Varse would give up his colors was the night his skin was cut from his body.
The milky blue mark on the bronze skin of his shoulder was for the moon under which Ketturans had defeated the Hull Horde. The blade ring of red ink around his arm was for the lost women of the Pesh raid. The purple and black raptor crest on his chest was the symbol of their people as a nation.
The second skin fabric on his lower body functioned to cover him, but also bore the pattern of the warrior and hunting scars on his right thigh and left calf. Scars were not to be hidden. They were celebrated because they marked survival after wounds were taken.
“These girls will fear us,” Detrey said. “We can get a translator.”
“We don’t need one,” Varse said.
Detrey smirked. “We don’t need one to help us understand their language, but it would be an advantage for one of us to speak their words quickly and easily.”
“The victory we’ve secured for them and the soil in the cargo hold speaks all I need to say to this man who sells girls.”
Detrey laughed. “The buyer condemns the seller?”
“For certain.”
“Maybe there’s something savvy on the part of this king? You haven’t forgotten the story of the trade where the girls were switched? And the girls who were sickly and crazed were nearly transported to Kettura before the deception was discovered?”
“I remember the story.”
“This man has already switched one daughter for another. Maybe other switches have been made.”
“Maybe they have.”
“People expect some royal blood for their payment.”
“If the girl with the royal blood is the best, then Kettura will have her.”
“And who will decide the quality of the girl we take?” Det demanded.
“We will. Together. As with a war plan,” Varse responded.
Detrey nodded and smiled, pleased that the group would decide.
Varse shouted the call to assemble. Warriors emerged from entryways and swung over the rail to drop down to the ship’s main level. None were small, but they landed light out of habit. Most of them had grown up together and then went on to hunt and go into battle together. There had never been a more successful warrior pack.
“Show blades or hide them?” Darx asked in a low growl.
“To each the choice,” Varse said, his own blade and rod already concealed.
Darx strapped his belt on, a sheathed blade laying flush with the outside of his thigh from hip to knee.
“Are you sure that’s enough? Why not one taller than a girl? Sure to impress,” Detrey mocked, eyeing his brother’s large weapon.
“We are what we are. Let them see,” Darx said, undeterred as always.
“You say that because you’re not on the hunt for a girl who’s been treated softly for the length of her life. Varse is. Girls filled with fear—”
“Their leader wants the black dirt we carry. He called upon this band to fight cannibals on an outpost where his men would’ve been slain by the dozens for lack of experience on that sucking mud terrain. Blade or no blade, this king will give us what we want because it’s owed to us. Let’s go,” Darx said.
“You say that now, but you were not with us when we brought back the pair of screaming girls from Jangor.”
“Varse was not either, but we heard. Supplies are on board to deal with it,” Darx said.
Detrey’s brows rose, but the corner of his mouth curved up. What sort of supplies? Ones to subdue them with drug? Or to physically restrain them? A beautiful girl, naked, tethered and gagged, was the beginning of many of his fantasies.
* * *
Falise slipped into the royal physician’s rooms. She herself had never been examined there, but several of the staff had been. The new physician was relatively young and quite handsome, so suddenly many of the maids had stopped awaiting trips home to see their village doctors.
Falise knew her own health was excellent and wasn’t intruding into the medical man’s domain for her own sake or out of curiosity. She was doing so for the purpose of seeing to her princess’s comfort. It was customary for a princess to have an examination before her wedding ceremony, and Falise knew the princess was dreading it.
Falise found the cabinets locked and frowned at the sparse linens. An odd looking table also caused her to shake her head. Why should her majesty not be examined on a proper bed among the softest linens? She clucked her tongue and resolved to return with pillows and cushions. A little warm scented oil rubbed under the table would make the room more inviting as well. Something soothing would do, the crushed purple flowers that aided sleep perhaps.
“What are you looking for? A finger ridge?”
Falise spun around to find the sandy-haired doctor standing in the doorway.
“No. I don’t even know what that is.”
“So then?” he demanded.
She flushed. “I wanted to see the room so that I might decide what could be done to make it more comfortable for my princess. These linens are far too small and thin. I think you may know your business of medicine, but you could learn more about what’s suitable for a princess’s comfort.”
He cocked a brow, his handsome face both stern and amused. “I may know my business? But I may not?”
“Well,” she said with a small frown. “I suppose that comment was rude.” Falise wasn’t normally saucy or rude to those above her station, but she was out of sorts.
“It was rude. And your breach of this place was equally inappropriate. What’s more, your influence on the princess could be detrimental.”
“My what? I don’t claim to have any influence. I’m just her maid. But no one needs to influence her in any case. As a princess, she is quite perfect.”
“I approve of your loyalty, but your actions are misguided. Shall I turn you over to the second groom for switching? Or should we settle this here?”
She gasped. The second groom was a hulking man who acted as disciplinarian when necessary. His methods were quite harsh. Falise was terrified of him. Everyone was.
“I was only trying to see to my princess’s comfort.”
“I know, but experiencing some discomfort and coming to terms with the duties of marriage is part of the process of readying her to wed a foreign warrior. Treating her as an endangered bloom is not what she can expect on a rough planet that has no royalty.”
“She will be treated with the proper respect no matter where she goes!”
The doctor strode to the wall and removed a long strap that hung from a hook. “Bare your bottom and bend over the table.”
She gasped, her eyes widening.
“Sir, you have no right to discipline me.”
“I certainly do. You’ve trespassed in my domain and are trying to counter my prescribed treatments. You are unmarried I take it?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You have the way of a girl who has not been much checked.”
“I am not wild, Sir!”
“No? A good virgin girl?”
“Yes, of course!”
He nodded. “We’ll see. Clothes off.”
Falise’s cheeks burned. “And if I don’t?” she said sassily, hardly believing she had the nerve to argue with a person such as him. Things were getting desperate.
“Then you’re free to leave. But the rest of the staff will then be treated to your removal from the house by the second groom. I’m told that he likes to discipline the pretty young maids while they’re tied to a post in the stable with the stable hands watching.”
“You are monstrous,” Falise snapped. She took a deep breath and made her decision. If the princess could be courageous about the medical exam, Falise could be brave as well. After all, Falise was used to more indignities than her mistress. She removed her dress and draped it carefully over a bench.
“Fancy undergarments for a maid.”
“A festival gift from the princess. They’re my best.”
“A nice gesture from her. She’s a lovely girl. If you don’t want them damaged by the strap, lower them and bend over the table.”
Falise let out a little sob, but took off the panties and set them with her dress. She’d suffer a thousand lashes on her skin before she let anything happen to such a precious gift. It had made her cry to receive something so lovely as a maid.
She bent over the table, closing her eyes.
The doctor moved behind her and slapped each defenseless cheek with his open hand several times. The sting wasn’t terribly bad, and her skin warmed to it.
“Quite a lovely bottom.” The strap whistled across her rump. A definite sting blossomed immediately. “Have you taken a man between your cheeks?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her words breaking as the strap connected several more times.
“Ah. Very innocent then.” The strap whizzed through the air, catching several spots it had already lit with pain.
“Oh! Dead realms!” she muttered, pressing her head to the table. She bent her legs and tucked herself forward.
“That’s a very nice pink,” the doctor said.
She should’ve liked to make his face a lovely pink from a slap, but she didn’t say so. She didn’t want to seem defiant because that might make him give her more stripes.
“Now,” the man said, stepping forward. His hands cupped her buttocks and squeezed.
The breath fled her lungs.
“A bare-bottom spanking can be exciting for both the involved parties,” he said, pressing against her so she could feel his erection. “At this stage, a less innocent woman might raise her rump and spread her knees to be taken forcefully from behind.”
Falise froze as she felt a finger between her lower lips. A slippery fingertip touched her in a place that caused her whole body to spasm.
“Mmm. You’re a ripe little piece,” he said approvingly. “That moisture shows how ready you are to receive a man. And if I rub this little nub for a bit,” he said huskily, pushing his pelvis against her abused bottom as he stroked a very sensitive spot on her. He groaned, but it was almost drowned out by her own soft moans.
Something happened then. It was the exact thing she’d heard other girls whisper about. A tightening and release of pleasure that rolled through her lower body and beyond.
“Very nice,” the doctor said, giving her bottom a swat. “Now off you go, and stay out of trouble.”
He turned and used his com to summon the widowed chef’s assistant, obviously planning a liaison.
Falise dressed quickly with shaky fingers. Where would the doctor put his still stiff cock? In the lovely widow’s mouth? Or would he risk a bastard?
She almost wished she could stay to see what would happen next. But she’d been dismissed and so she left hastily, trying to force her mind back to her duties. One thing was certain. She understood now why the doctor’s rooms were such a popular place.
Chapter 2
Lanamoar froze, as did every other guest in the ballroom, when the group of seven savages entered. A servant had to rush to pull back the heavy draperies, so they didn’t get caught and come crashing down under the feet of the advancing men.
The warriors were enormous, with burnished skin, a host of sinister markings, and weapons that appeared in no way ornamental. None of them smiled. Their gazes swept the room as if they expected of battalion to emerge and engage them.
“The king can not be serious,” Wyx said.
Her father though strode forward with Lord Evston Calex, his chief counsel. The king spoke and then gestured for her to come forward.
Lana couldn’t move. She couldn’t even breathe. Why had she not taken Falise’s advice when she’d had the chance?
“Lanamoar,” the king said sharply.
“Wyxler,” she whispered in an imploring tone as she forced her feet to carry her forward.
“Lord Evston,” Wyxler said smoothly to the king’s highest advisor. “May I speak with you?”
Dead realms, Lana thought when she was next to her father and staring at a wall of bare chest muscles. Her heart thumped, and she tried to see around the men to the door. She could pretend a headache, collect her bag and—
“This is Varse of Kettura, Lana. He leads these men and has amassed a fortune by exporting flame-forged soil and precious metals, among other things. Varse, this is my daughter Princess Lanamoar. She has demonstrated throughout her life that she understands the meaning of duty. She always fulfills her royal obligations and the duties commanded her by the king and by nature.”
Lana stiffened. They had not yet exchanged a word or a look, and she was already being reminded that she would have to bear her future husband’s children.
In a lower voice, her father said, “A physician will examine her in your presence to confirm her innocence.”
“Surely—!” Lana objected. The thought of being stripped and examined in front of a stranger caused heat to rush to her face. “Surely, I can be taken at my word. I won’t submit to—” She glanced up and the words died in her throat. The face was handsome, but the eyes were as black as night and unmoved by her distress. “He doesn’t understand our language,” she murmured hopefully. “We’ll get a translator,” she said to her father. “And there’s no need to mention the exam again.”
“I promise you he understands,” the king said. “They trade with three systems and understand six languages other than their own, including ours.”
She stared up at the savage, waiting for him to confirm it.
He said nothing. He didn’t nod or even blink. He could’ve been made of stone.
“He’s communicated that it’s important to him that you’re healthy and able to conceive. And of course, every man wants to know that his young wife is a virgin.”
She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation in the middle of the ballroom. She glanced at the other men in his group. Had they heard all this? Were they contemplating her virginity and the exam she would be forced to undergo?
“Well,” she said softly, her voice barely audible. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Father, I have a terrible headache,” she said, beginning to back away. “I’ll retire and see you—”
Her father’s hand clamped down on her arm. She winced before she caught herself.
The savage’s gaze dropped to her father’s hand for an instant and then back at the king. The look held something in it. She wasn’t sure quite what, but her father’s grip eased and then dropped away.
