Claimed by the Warlord Read online

  Claimed by the Warlord

  By Maddie Taylor

  All rights are reserved by the author.

  Copyright © 2019 by Maddie Taylor

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States of America

  First Electronic Edition: January 2019

  Cover Art/Design by Fantasia Frog Designs

  Cover Photo by Period Images

  Editing by Decadence Publishing

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and as such, any similarity to existing persons, places, or events must be considered purely coincidental.

  This book contains content for adult audiences and is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.

  For mature readers, only.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Other Titles by Maddie Taylor

  More Titles by Maddie Taylor

  About the Author

  Maddie’s Social Media Links:

  Prologue

  SO THIS IS HOW IT ENDS.

  Caged like an animal, naked and shivering, out of fear rather than cold since searing hot flames licked up the wall across from her, Aurelia prayed desperately that someone would come for her in time. Locked in, with hope of escape rapidly dwindling, she was helpless to do anything else.

  Her captors, two hulking yellow-eyed men who looked and smelled like they hadn’t bathed in weeks, had run out of the cargo bay when a series of explosions rocked the ship. They’d done so a while ago without sparing her a glance.

  Since then time had dragged by, although other than the beat of her heart she had no way to measure its passing. Erratic as it was, her pulse served as a poor measure, pounding more rapidly when violent tremors rattled the bars of her cramped prison or sent unsecured supply crates crashing to the floor. A second explosion caused the thudding in her chest to cease momentarily.

  When it resumed, and she saw smoke wafting in through the air vents, it surged to double, maybe triple its normal rate.

  Throughout all of this, no one came back for her.

  Frightened and alone, she waited, her gaze fixed on the doors, willing them to slide open and disprove the belief taking hold inside her traumatized brain, that they’d abandoned the ship and her along with it.

  She shouldn’t be surprised. Ophigs were a species of immoral, heartless, mercenary beings—the lowest life-forms in the known universe—who made their living as flesh peddlers. Rumor had it they’d sell their own mothers into slavery if it turned a profit. If she had to rely on them to come to her rescue, her fate was sealed.

  Eyeing the bars for the hundredth time, she searched for a weakness. She’d tested every bend and curve with her fingers yet hadn’t found the tiniest flaw. Made of some foreign alloy, they were seamless. This meant there were no hinges to pry open and no locks to pick.

  The ship shimmied and pitched sharply. A shower of sparks spewed from the control panels embedded in the walls. The next instant, they burst into flames.

  Aurelia closed her eyes, centering herself, as she drew upon all of her remaining strength. Summoning her cryokinetic ability, she extended both hands in a sharp sweeping motion toward the rapidly expanding fire and projected a freeze blast across the room.

  Expecting sizzles as ice coated the metal components and hissing when it extinguished the fire, her chest became tight with dread when she heard neither. She cracked one eye open. Instead of the wall of ice she envisioned, only a cool mist had appeared. The droplets were so minute they evaporated in the heat before reaching the flames and didn’t have the slightest effect.

  She tried repeatedly, getting the same trifling results.

  Away from her home world, she expected her powers to be diminished, not useless. Perhaps her weakened state had something to do with it. Either way, she couldn’t project even this puny manifestation for long. With her strength depleted, Aurelia’s hands fell limply to her sides.

  As tears pricked her burning eyes, her lungs spasmed painfully and she collapsed on the floor of the cage in a fit of coughing. When it slowed, she managed to draw in a ragged breath. Never had she been quite this miserable, and she could only expect things to get worse.

  In a desperate attempt to get help from someone, anyone, she called out, but with her throat raw from the acrid smoke, her voice came out weak and scratchy. She swallowed, a near impossible fete with her mouth as dry as a desert then tried again. This time, she produced only a pathetic croak that no one would hear even if they were nearby, not that anyone would care if they did.

  Damn the Ophig mercenaries.

  They didn’t have the decency to leave her water, and in the stifling heat, she could feel herself dehydrating. With the air around her devoid of humidity, no wonder her power had failed her.

  While too parched to produce saliva, her body had enough left for tears. They steamed down her face, the salt stinging her cracked lips, as dark-gray smoke billowed into the room.

  A cry of despair tore from her chest as hopelessness set in. There were plenty more behind it, ready to burst free. They’d been building along with a rising tide of hysteria ever since she’d awakened to find herself imprisoned. But if she lay there weeping, resigned to her fate, death would surely claim her.

  Struggling weakly to a crouch, she wrapped her hands around the bars, as if this time the outcome would be different, and they would suddenly snap in two. But the rising temperature in the room had heated the metal. It burned her skin when she took hold. Recoiling with a hiss, she lost her balance and tumbled backward, landing flat on her butt on the floor.

  With her palms and fingers throbbing painfully, another mournful sob erupted from her chest. When the ship shimmied and creaked a moment later, High Princess Aurelia, daughter of Aziros, second in line to the throne of the sovereign planet of Aeldor, didn’t react. All she could do was lie there, exhausted, all hope extinguished, and watch in defeat as the flames danced closer.

  Chapter One

  JUST PAST DAWN, THREE days earlier...

  The wind whipping down from the north kicked the top layer of freshly fallen snow into a whirl, causing near whiteout conditions. The caravan pushed onward despite the subzero temperatures and treacherous roadways that were nothing unusual for the region. They had traveled nonstop for three long, grueling days, and barring setbacks during this last leg of the journey, they expected to arrive in Last Point by midday.

  Aptly named, the town had the dubious honor of being the northernmost settlement before entering the Venta-Gelida Mountains, a natural barrier separating the Northern Sector from the temperate zone where 90 percent of the planet’s population made their homes. Beyond the chain of towering glacial peaks lay a frigid, ice-covered, barren place, inhabited only by those willing to live underground.

  Five of the six treaded snow cruisers were packed full of food and supplies for the townsfolk. The sixth vehicle, armed and under guard, belonged to Aurelia. She made this trek every
quarter and had for as long as she could remember, despite her father’s rather voluble protests. But seeing Akira, her father’s sister, her favorite aunt, and the only mother figure she’d ever known made it worth it. Living in such an isolated region, the older woman eagerly anticipated her visits, and she wouldn’t deprive her of them over a little inconvenience and chapped lips.

  As the wind rattled her cruiser and a bitter chill coursed through her body, Aurelia amended her understating of the facts. Far more than inconvenient; the grueling trip was a major pain in the neck. The equipment regularly failed due to the extremely low temperatures, the trip was halting—literally—since they had to make numerous unscheduled stops to remove the buildup of snow and ice from the heavy-duty treads, and as they worked outside in the elements, her men risked frostbite daily.

  She wouldn’t have asked them to take these risks for a pleasure trip, but aside from her personal guard, these men made this same trek every few weeks. Delivering supplies to the remote towns in the region was their job, they were compensated well and would have done it with or without her tagging along.

  But oh, how she wished they could fly.

  Traveling overland from the capital city took three days. By air transport, they could arrive in a matter of hours. Except, as hard as the weather was on ground equipment, the more sensitive navigational instruments and the landing gear couldn’t withstand the brutal cold and froze over in minutes. Combined with the constant high winds in the region, it made air travel simply too dangerous.

  So, here she sat, on day three, wearing so many layers she could barely move and huddled beneath piles of blankets—still shivering. Even the loud crunch of the ice-covered ground beneath the claw-toothed treads of her snow cruiser couldn’t drown out the clicking of her chattering teeth.

  Snuggling deeper under her covers, she sighed with impatience when the conveyance shuddered and the top layer—a thick, soft synthetic fur—slipped to the floor. Now, she had a dilemma. Did she move and risk letting a blast of cold air inside the cocoon she had made, or wait until the chill crept in and she couldn’t stand it anymore?

  She opted for the latter, putting off the inevitable, and lamenting that the myth spread widely through the galaxy about Aeldorians wasn’t actually true.

  Yes, they had the ability to manipulate cold, to alter the state of water into ice and snow, and every other frozen state, but this metaphysical power didn’t make them impervious to cold. Their tolerance far surpassed most other beings, but they still required protection from the elements and enjoyed a toasty fire in the winter months the same as everyone else.

  With images of defrosting in front of a roaring blaze, a steaming mug of her aunt’s spirit-infused special brew thawing her hands, she leaned forward, her piles of covers coming with her, and with frozen fingers dug her timepiece out of her wind cloak on the opposite seat. When she saw it was nearly midday, a smile curved her lips for the first time since leaving home. The sun would be at its zenith and the outside temperatures near their peak when they arrived. She’d still freeze her royal hind parts, but she’d be out of the cruiser and only seconds away from her aunt Akira’s cozy kitchen.

  Before she tucked her watch back into its velvet-lined inner pocket, she held it up to her ear, reassured by the familiar ticking. A gift from her grandfather, who’d gotten it from his grandfather, who’d inherited it from his grandfather, and so on, she cherished the ancient timepiece.

  It was tradition to present it to an heir on their twentieth birthday. Xzavis had broken protocol by giving it to her, instead of the crown prince, four winters ago. Shortly after, he had passed beyond their realm. Missing him dearly, she carried the watch with her everywhere as a reminder of his kind, smiling, bearded face whenever she checked the time.

  Hand-wound movements were unheard of in this age where technology changed faster than the wind, but she preferred the classic style. Finding someone who knew how to clean it and keep it maintained was becoming more of a challenge, however.

  Tucking it safely away, she rearranged her many layers, including the errant fur, and settled back. The instant she did, the vehicle lurched to a halt. It happened so suddenly, Aurelia didn’t have time to brace. When her blanket slid to the floor once more, she went with it, landing with a hard thump.

  Too stunned to move, she took a second to catch the breath knocked from her lungs before climbing back up. Once she’d gingerly perched her abused behind on the cushioned bench, she reached for the switch that deactivated the window shields. Before she could see what was happening, a deafening boom rocked the cruiser and sent her flying again, this time forward onto her knees.

  When the laser cannons fired overhead, she realized this wasn’t a case of ice buildup on the treads, or engine failure. They were under attack, and her men were trying to repel some unknown threat.

  Unarmed and frightened, Aurelia could only wait and try not to hyperventilate while she listened to the ensuing battle and prayed for her men to prevail.

  The fight went on for some time, each shot shaking the cruiser and jarring her to the bone. Then, as quickly as it started, the cacophony ceased.

  An eerie silence settled over her for the span of one breath then the door exploded inward. The jarring force brought with it a blast of cold air that slammed her into the far wall.

  Still gathering her wits after the impact, when a fur-covered creature appeared in the jagged opening, she opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

  At first, she thought it an animal—he looked like one, and his stench was overwhelming—then she noticed beady yellow eyes staring at her over a face shield.

  Sweet heavens above! Ophigs were the only species she knew who walked upright and had yellow eyes.

  A species from a neighboring star system, they were mostly loners, criminals, and lawless mercenaries. Many were known to make their living by stealing women and delivering them to slavers who then sold them throughout the galaxy, and beyond. Such a thing happened on other worlds, never on Aeldor, a technologically advanced society with impenetrable security shields and highly trained military forces to protect them. Until now.

  She’d have rather taken her chances with a four-legged beast.

  Unwilling to be the first victim, Aurelia threw her hands out, aiming a freeze flash at her attacker. A layer of ice instantly formed around him, and she drew a calming breath. But she celebrated her relief too soon.

  Rather than rapidly expanding, growing thicker and encasing him as she’d expected, the thin shell started to crack. Like stepping onto a partially frozen pond, fissures formed and widened, and the next instant, he exploded out of the meager casing with a roar.

  She covered her face with her arms, protecting it from the flying crystals of ice. When the little pings ceased, she heard another sound, an odd, high-pitched humming, audible despite the whistle of the wind whipping in through the door.

  “Convenient little gadget, wouldn’t you say, Princess?”

  Her head came up in time to see him pat a box hooked to his belted fur coat.

  “A friend of yours gave it to me. Called it a sonic wave generator. I was skeptical, but I’ll be damned if it didn’t work like a charm.”

  Her powers were limited in three ways: distance from her target, low moisture levels in the air—snow and ice couldn’t very well form without it—and vibration. With him in her face, and snow swirling in through the open door, the first two didn’t factor. The third, unfortunately, appeared to be her undoing. Sound waves at high frequency would agitate the water droplets in the air and interfere with crystallization.

  Her hands came up for a second attempt, this time on a smaller but more lethal scale. Before she could hurl dagger-like ice shards his way, he grabbed her ankles and jerked hard. She toppled backward as he grunted a warning. “No throwing icicles, either, or you’ll painfully regret it, Your Highness.”

  When Aurelia’s hands flew out to break her fall, the energy she’d gathered for the attack dis
persed. Instead of the deadly frozen projectiles she envisioned, useless snowflakes fell in a shower around her.

  “Weak,” he commented with a high-pitched cackle that grated on her nerves. “This is why women don’t go to war.”

  Easily, he flipped her over and planted a knee in the small of her back.

  “What do you want?” she cried from her belly, kicking and fighting to get free.

  “A pretty little ice princess of my very own,” he replied mockingly. “At least for a time.”

  It didn’t bear thinking what being his entailed, and his cryptic for a time didn’t bode well for her, either. Would she even care when he finished with her? She didn’t want to find out.

  Aurelia redoubled her efforts, jerking wildly at his hold as if her life depended on it because, more likely than not, that’s what was at stake. Working one hand free, she rolled onto her side and clawed at his face. Though he arched away, she managed to rake her nails down his cheek. He hissed in pain and sent a fist flying toward her. Twisting, she arched away, fortunate that it didn’t connect with full force—it would have been over if it had. Still, it glanced off her cheek in an explosion of pain.

  While stunned—never in her life had she been punched in the face before—she kept at him with both hands curled into claws, fighting his hold. Somehow, she wiggled onto her back and worked one foot free. It was the opening she’d been waiting for; she brought her knee up sharply.

  “Oomph,” he grunted, which quickly morphed into an agonized groan.

  She didn’t let up and slammed her boot into his ugly face, following that with a hard kick dead center in his chest.

  Both bigger and stronger, he had the advantage, but catching him where all males were vulnerable, and capping it off with two subsequent crippling blows took its toll. When he staggered back, calling her every foul name she’d ever heard, and many she hadn’t, he released her, clamping one hand over his crotch while the other cradled his face.

  With fleeting satisfaction, she noticed he wasn’t laughing anymore.