After three years at war, Ennon bears the burden of seeing the High Lord’s vast armies home. Keeping thousands of fiercely independent lions in line isn’t easy. When his soldiers discover a beautiful, royal female hidden beneath an illusion spell, the lure of her inheritance threatens the order of his camp.
The men of her family protected Kisri, until the war stole them away. Tired of defending herself from greedy suitors, she’s in search of her only remaining male relative. Instead she finds Ennon, her cousin’s most dangerous warrior. Perhaps the only man in the kingdom who has no interest in claiming her birthright. Which makes him unique…and tempting.
Delivering Kisri to his High Lord’s side—while keeping his distance—is Ennon’s one and only duty. Yet Kisri’s untutored advances crack his formidable resistance. And she proves to be a dangerously adept student. Especially when their passion wakes a magic beyond their control…
Product Warnings
This story contains a dangerous shapeshifter warlord, a lioness with a sword, innocent passion, sexual awakenings and a happily-ever-after worthy of any fairy tale.
Men came from the four corners of the plains to woo her. Not because she was a great beauty—though most would insist they found her pretty enough—and not because of her skills and accomplishments, as those who were honest would admit she had few suited to life as a noble lady.
They came to her father’s house for her fortune and her bloodline, because she was the cousin of the High Lord of the Plains. To conquer a lioness is to be the master of all she calls hers, though few would dare enrage her male relatives by attempting to conquer by violence.
They called her untameable until the war began to claim those male relatives, one at a time. And with her cousin the High Lord so far away, some began to think this lioness looked very tameable, indeed.
Ennon stared down at the cracked gem in the palm of his hand. “I don’t understand, Pritt. What am I looking at?”
“Witchcraft.” The grizzled old lion spat in the dirt. “There was a scuffle in the meal line and one of the green soldiers got caught in the middle. That got ripped off’a his—her neck.”
“Her?” he asked sharply. “Tell me you’re joking, and quickly.”
“Wish I were, Warlord. She’s a wee bit of a thing, but a spitting little cat. Took two guards to drag her to your tent, and the gentle goddess only knows how long they’ll put up with her clawing at them.”
A glamour charm. Ennon had heard of women going to such lengths in order to join battles when they should have been tending matters at home—you couldn’t flip through a tome of poetry without running into an ode to a warrior queen—but in his camp… “She must be here alone. No husband or father would allow such a thing.”
“No sane man at all.” Pritt frowned and scratched his cheek. “She’s familiar, but I can’t say why. Something in the eyes.”
Lesser nobility, with his luck. “Thank you for coming to me, Pritt, and for handling this with your usual quick efficiency.”
Pritt executed a sharp salute. “If you don’t mind me saying, my lord…you might want to step quickly.”
“I’m heading there now.” Ennon barely managed to keep the exasperation from his voice as he dropped the ruined charm and left his maps unrolled on the table.
Odd, now that he thought of it, that Pritt had not brought the girl to him. It would be easy enough to question her and send word to her family. Securing proper transportation or lodgings for her would, likewise, be a simple matter.
No reason to sequester the girl in his tent, none at all.
Curiosity as much as concern quickened his steps, and he knew the answer to those questions as soon as he entered his tent. “Oh, hell and damnation.”
Kisri’s long dark hair was braided tight to her head, and her clothing was cut in a man’s style, but without magic, not even a blind and drunk fool would have taken her for anything but a woman. One guard held her arms behind her back in a brutal grip, and the other eyed her warily over bleeding scratches across his cheek.
Huge brown eyes found his, and her struggles ceased abruptly. “Hell and damnation is right.”
Her resigned tone barely registered as rage thundered through Ennon at the sight of her arms wrenched behind her, the angle and pressure no doubt painful. He addressed the guard who held her, his voice amazingly even. “Unhand her and get out. Both of you.”
The men had fought alongside him long enough to recognize danger. They retreated hastily, one leaving a belt and scabbard on the table as he backed toward the flap of the tent.
When they were gone, Kisri stretched her arms carefully, as if they ached. “Ennon.”
He had to remain calm. It wouldn’t do to terrify the High Lord’s favorite cousin. He reminded himself of that a few times as he poured two cups of wine. “How long have you been here, hiding behind your charm?”
Her wary gaze followed him. Not frightened, but cautious. “In your camp? Only a few days.”
“Why did you come?” He asked as a courtesy, because it didn’t matter what her answer was. She’d put herself in danger, and now he was responsible for her.
“I am seeking my cousin.” A wry smile curled her lips as she drifted toward the table. “You’ll be pleased to know that your army keeps his location very quiet.”
“Your cousin’s safety is, in fact, my job.” Ennon watched her edge toward the weapon and smiled as he held out the wine. “Leave the blade for now. Have a drink.”
She arched one elegant eyebrow. “Surely the First Warlord can handle one little lion, whether she bears a sword or not.”
“Do you wish to fight me, Kisri?” His body tightened at the thought. He’d never sparred with a woman without the skirmish ending in the blinding release of sex.
Color rose in her cheeks, as if she knew the path of his thoughts, but she lifted her chin and closed her fingers around the hilt of her sword. “I’ve had my fill of fighting. A lifetime of it, in the past few months.”
“Mmm. Why are you searching for Malrion?”
Her fingers tightened until her knuckles stood out white against her skin. The scabbard rattled on the table. “The war has been hard on the High Lord’s family. So has illness. As of two moons ago, Malrion is the only male relative I have left.”
The words stopped him cold, and Ennon frowned, searching her face. “Your uncles. Both of them?”
“Within the last two moons, along with my father, last year. And my brother, three years ago.” She swallowed hard. “Malrion knew about them, but he may not know the rest. His court will be in chaos when he finally makes his way home, but my concerns have been more personal.”
Only one thing could have happened in the absence of a protector. “Who’s trying to force your hand?”
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