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He followed right behind her. What the hell? A boxed dead-end and no woman. He spun around.
There she was, right behind him. Close enough he felt her body heat. And close enough for him to see she was an almost exact copy of Julienne and Jena.
With a tilt to her head, her dual-colored irises of sunset orange surrounded by a sea of topaz brown glared at him. Those orbs were cold, hard, and flinty.
“Look, I mean you no harm...” He never got another word out.
Between one blink and the next, her eyes changed color. Instead of the dual topaz-orange, they morphed into a sea of milky white. In the middle was a red vertical slit similar to a deadly cobra’s, or his, before he sank his fangs into someone.
And just as he immobilized a person before he struck, he was caught in a snare so tight he could barely breathe. Much less talk. The ability to protect himself or call for help was beyond him.
She surged forward, grasping him around his neck, and pulled him down.
First there was sultry heat, then a searing pain as her fangs sank deep. His body coiled. Her mouth on his neck produced a combination of pleasure-pain so intense he didn’t know where one started and the other left off. Waves of need roared through him until he hungered for more.
Every instinct he possessed demanded he claim her for all time.
~Sub Prince Murduk~
Motherfuckingspacewhore.
“Who in the hell does that bitch think she is?” Sub-Prince Murduk Utuk Xul, self-appointed sovereign of Akurn, governor of the capital city of Eengurra and perceived descendant of the Goddess of Love, growled at his loyal guard Uruk. “I don’t have time nor the inclination to deal with High Priestess Nisba right now.”
“I understand, exalted one.” Uruk’s hard features might as well have been carved from stone. He wasn’t one to be emotional about anything. Including making his master unhappy. “However, she is the one who put you in the position you now find yourself in. Please understand, I mean you no disrespect, but if you don’t handle this directly, it could tip the already-teetering populace to a breaking point. It would only take a small spark to ignite a full-blown rebellion. And this is no small spark. Right now, we need your firm hand at the temple, since you announced its closing and your intention of selling the priestesses and nuns of its hallowed halls.”
Murduk stared at the older man. That had to be the longest speech Uruk’d ever uttered. “Has Captain Anbu made arrangements to have the shield around the temple fall?” He jumped out of the hover-transport that conveyed him and Uruk the short distance from the royal palace to the temple. He stomped to the foot of the gold-laced temple steps and stopped short of the iridescent shield blocking his way.
“Yes, sire.” Uruk’s gravelly voice maintained a respectful tone. “We’ll overtake it at your command. Once the temple is under your control, it will help solidify your transition to absolute ruler that much sooner.”
Murduk swung his gaze to the closed temple doorways and stood with fists planted on his trim hips.
Males were banned from entering the sacred temple of Namatar.
As the first man to do so, he would send an undeniable message to the populace.
A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed the royal troops were close behind. He’d brought them to dismantle and destroy the main temple and round up all the women. Then they’d hold those females, along with the traitor, Sychar, at Erset La Tari, the Land of No Return. They’d stay there until their new masters claimed them.
Priestesses in the other temples throughout Akurn would face similar fates. After all, he’d promised to provide the females as prizes for the lottery when he had the traitor Sychar executed.
The doors under the wide arch entryway of the temple flung open with a bang.
The high priestess herself, Nisba, strode out with a contingent of her own guards close behind.
His eyes widened at the way she and her priestesses presented themselves.
Instead of the elegant, long flowing gowns in the pastel colors proclaiming the Goddess’s influence, each wore brightly colored skirts that reached below firm, rounded, feminine buttocks. On their feet were thigh-high leather boots with short heels. On the myriad of white, blonde, and golden-haired heads, rested various circlets embossed with a singular image at a pointed tip. The symbol was the Uznua, a triad spiral that represented the three gods of unity of the mind, soul, and physical body.
Murduk sucked in a shocked breath. Never had he seen such a flagrant display of shameful disrespect to the Akurn way of life.
Every priestess and nun created a solid wall behind the high priestess, Nisba. Each carried deadly weapons pointed at him and his guards.
Betrayers! How dare they rebel against his sacred rule? “What is the meaning of this, Nisba?” he shouted.
“Leave these hallowed grounds now, sub-Prince, so bloodshed may be avoided.” Unlike the women surrounding her, the high priestess wore a short gown of pure white. The slim straps of her dress left her toned and muscular arms on full display. Around each upper arm was a wide band of precious gold, and strapped to her back was a high-powered laser spear.
A throbbing headache pounded at his temple, making his left eye to twitch. Crossing his clenched hands over his chest, he sent the usurper a narrow-eyed glare. “Sacrilege.” He growled in a hard tone. “How is it you females have possession of forbidden weapons?”
The triumphant sneer on her full lips made his face heat.
