Lahn didn’t move or speak.
Dortak didn’t like that and, being Dortak, pushed it even further. “Before that, I will strip your yellow one na**d and ride with her through the Daxshee while I force her to hold your head. Then I will rip off her yellow crown of feathers, shove them up her cunt and take her through her ass. In the months to come, while I use her until she is no longer of use to me, the sounds coming from her in my cham will be much different from those she cried in yours.”
Yep. One could say it was official. I wasn’t going to lose a lot of sleep when Lahn took his head.
At this, Lahn moved and what he moved to do made me suck in breath and hold it.
He removed his belt, turned to me and handed me his knives. My eyes darting up to him, my hands automatically lifted to accept them. Then he unbuckled the strap on his chest and slipped off his sword. After he had done this, he laid it across my throne so it was resting on the arms.
Then, still bent so his face was level to mine, his painted eyes came to me and I saw it… I saw it… his golden, bright, brutal spirit was shining close to the surface and let’s just say it… was… pissed.
Uh-oh. Dortak was in trouble.
The breath flooded my lungs, the tension evaporated from my body and I grinned at him.
“Give him hell, tiger,” I whispered.
He held my eyes a second before he blinked and his spirit was hidden, his fury gone.
Then, swear to God, he winked at me.
No joke! Winked!
I stifled a giggle.
Then my husband turned and moved off the platform.
Dortak guffawed as he lifted his arm and unsheathed his blade.
Then his eyes narrowed and he spat at the advancing Lahn, “Fool.”
“I take your head with your own steel,” Lahn told him casually.
“Ha!” Dortak cried. “I’ve never been disarmed.”
“Then today will be your first and your last,” Lahn returned, still moving to him, closer and closer, his arms relaxed and dangling at his sides, his stride steady and Dortak finally got smart (ish) and realized that even unarmed, a threat was closing in.
And that was when he took his stance and without hesitation and with a mighty roar he charged Lahn.
And Dortak didn’t wait to be just what Dortak was.
An ass**le, a jerk, the king of all dicks and, lastly, a f**king, dirty, little cheat.
For during his charge, his left hand came up and swung out, leaving a trail of yellow dust. He whirled himself to avoid it getting in his face, advancing through it with his back and my guess was that whatever it was would blind his opponent.
A hush of shock settled instantly over the already quiet crowd.
I held my breath again but as Lahn promised, I needn’t have worried. He was prepared. I knew this when he instantly dropped, tucking in his body, he landed on a shoulder, rolling, legs over head, he then twisted and rolled again sideways several times, landing on his back well clear of the dust. Then, without delay, he did one of those awesome knee lifts where he kicked out and, using the power of his legs and strength of his abs, he regained his feet without using his hands.
Oh yeah, my husband was a badass.
It was then I held my breath yet again but not from fear.
From awe.
I had heard a lot about what a fierce warrior my king was, how strong, how swift, how smart. I knew his strength personally.
But I had no idea.