"Wolf Warrior - 01 - The Lost Wolf Warrior" - читать интересную книгу автора (Monet Rae)

"I agree.Ф Roan knew his English accent was in complete contrast to his Irish friend's.

"I'm thinkinТ they won't be believinТ ya if ya tell them yer the Wolf-or show them yer mark."

"I fear you are correct.Ф Roan raised his blood stained sword in front of him, anticipating an attack.

"Fools! We are not Scottish!Ф Roan yelled out to the leader. УWe are English. We were traveling to town for wares and a night of friendly companionship when you attacked us. We carry no large weapons. Do I sound Scottish?"

But Roan knew even the truth might not save them. The English had blood lust in their eyes. Despite his legendary battlefield victories, he had been weakened by the deep bleeding gash in his arm and side. Roan had never felt so close to dying.

He was known as the Wolf.

Fierce.

Unrelenting.

Always victorious.

They said he was marked by God as a true warrior, but right now he was not a legend, he was just a manЧa man who was about to die. In his mind he yelled for help. His head began to pound at the possibility that he and Ian could be inhaling their last breath. This was the closest he had ever been to panicking.

"Scottish lies! Prepare to die! Scottish bastards! The more we kill now the fewer we fight later."

The reply did not please Roan, and if their situation had not been so dismal, he might have laughed. A strange emotion to experience this close to death, he thought.

The soldiers fanned out and pressed forward.

The unexpected pounding of hoofs stopped them as a small rider and an unusual horse galloped into the clearing.

* * * *

Serena rode Greystar in swiftly. She'd heard the cry for help in her mind. Had felt it grow stronger and louder. This call came only when warriors felt close to death. She had no choice but to respond, even if it resulted in her own death. It was an instinct as old as time and she was compelled to obey.

She spotted the two armed, bare-chested warriors backed against the rocky cliff, and she saw the ten uniformed men taunting them. One of the warriors must have called to her. With a quick assessment of the situation, she felt confident that she could even the score.

Serena's gaze moved over the two men. Both were handsome, however it was the well-muscled, black-haired man that held her attention. Serena's look devoured the man. His mouth was taut with determination. His large frame supported a muscled, thick chest. Long midnight hair floated carelessly around his clean-shaven, chiseled face. His ice blue eyes, combined with his other attributes, led her to the conclusion that he was by far the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes upon, and at the same time, oddly familiar. She felt an awareness, one she had never experienced before, and the feeling disturbed her.

The man was spectacular and obviously an experienced warrior. He held his bloodstained sword with confidence and expertise, his legs spread, knees bent, he was ready to fight. It was a simple matter for her to sense his leadership qualities. Her Solarian mind sense had always been true, and this man radiated his uniqueness.

Serena saw the blood running down his arm from a deep gash and a burning rage she had never known before poured through her. Averting her eyes, she directed her attention to the ten soldiers. Evil determination radiated from each one of them. They were ready to kill, for no other reason than the thrill, and she knew at that moment she had to kill them or be killed herself.

Serena's father had warned her that women were not well received outside the Realm as warriors, and so even her gender made her path dangerous. In a flash of quick thinking, she knew exactly how to distract these soldiers. She was not entirely innocent to the workings of the male mind.

Concealing her cross-bow the best she could, Serena slowly slid off her horse, lifting her cloak to show them a view of her ass. She turned and faced the men, dropping her cloak back down. She moved one hand over her hood and pushed it back, shaking out her hair, which fell in long waves around her face and down her back. Her hair was usually an annoyance, but now all eyes were turned in her direction, and with that element of surprise, she could prevail. The men moved toward her, their prey forgotten. The two men who were backed against the rock also looked enthralled.

* * * *

Roan was captivated by the mystery woman's long, raven hair. It framed her angelic, beautifully formed features. Set in a porcelain complexion, pink lips pouted then rose in a seductive smile as she surveyed the group of men before her. Even from where he stood her eyes flashed with green fire.

"Gentlemen."