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  Vulcan’s Woman

  Jennifer LaRose

  Barbarian Lust, Book One

  Wisteria’s clan demands she mate with a brutish hunter to carry on a strong bloodline. Instead she discovers the sexy, forbidden Vulcan. When she’s seen kissing the foreign tribesman she’s beaten and ostracized before being taken prisoner by the bloodthirsty Barbarians. While hoping for Vulcan’s return she takes her rescue into her own hands, complicating matters further.

  Vulcan is the leader of a US Special Forces unit, which has purportedly been sent to planet Helixis to observe the native species. However, he discovers he’s part of a deceptive government plan. While struggling with his conscience he falls for the independent-minded Wisteria and introduces her to the joys of lovemaking. But when he’s called back to Earth, he must decide where his heart lies.

  Inside Scoop: Helixis is overrun by vicious creatures that cause violent, bloody havoc.

  A Romantica® sci-fi erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Vulcan’s Woman

  Jennifer LaRose

  Acknowledgement

  I want to thank Kathleen Kashnier, Deanna Ponder and Virginia Cunningham for their wonderful friendships, critiques and honest criticism. These ladies mean the world to me. I’d also like to thank Jeremy Pozderac for sharing his artillery knowledge, and for his willingness to educate this gal who knows nothing about guns and ammo. Thanks, Jerm!

  And finally, I want to express my gratitude to my amazing editor Beverly Horne for her diligence, kindness and proficiency. My fictional worlds are nonexistent without her. Thank you, Beverly.

  Chapter One

  “Wisteria, don’t wander far,” Nodda yelled, her voice carrying above the laughter of four small clan children carving pictures in the dirt with rocks and sticks.

  “Momma, you worry too much. I know my boundaries,” Wisteria responded as she headed toward a matted stretch of weeds she’d traveled so often it formed a path.

  “I know you do, but still, I can’t dismiss the thoughts of when the Mountain Slayers shredded your sister into pieces smaller than the pebbles beneath my feet. It’s been too recent. This old woman cannot withstand the death of another child. I’ve lost too many in senseless battles over the years.”

  Wisteria sighed, halted and glanced over her shoulder at her mother. Yes, having borne the loss of eight children, her mom had endured more pain than anyone should. She looked tired and aged. Her waist-length hair, once black and shiny, was now as gray as their cavernous home, and her facial skin sagged beneath her eyes like a wrinkled pelt. Wisteria wouldn’t dare upset her further for any reason. “I know. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  Wisteria, her two older brothers Shale and Boar and her younger sister Ivy were all who remained of twelve kids. It broke her heart when they’d left the deceased behind in their graves when the flesh-eating tribe barged in and stole their homeland. Fourteen full moons ago they’d been forced to escape their beautiful habitat of huts, surrounded by billowing hills and green meadows, to migrate to cold, dark caverns hidden within the forest. The sunshine couldn’t breach their stone shelters, which made the days as cool and dreary as nightfall. Nor did they have enough furs to snuggle under when they slept. Each night the cold settled into Wisteria’s body, so whenever possible she visited the lake to collect pretty rocks for her body art, where the sun shone in droves of warmth.

  “Take your spear, Wisteria.”

  “Oh Momma, I’ll be fine.” She turned around, walked to her mom, took hold of her hands and squeezed them affectionately. “The golden lake is a safe place,” she said, smiling bittersweetly. Unlike her drab cave, it was her paradise, bursting with beautiful colors. Sadly, being forbidden to wander past dark, she’d experienced the magical beauty at nighttime only once when she’d stolen away for an evening bath. That’s when it was most radiant, glowing in a yellow moonlit hue. “There is no threat during daylight.”

  “I know, but you must be prepared to slaughter if you’re approached by wildlife. Our supplies are few. It’s time to help our men hunt.”

  “I can’t kill animals, Momma, you know that. My skill is making jewelry from stones.”

  “Yes, and they’re beautiful.” Nodda draped Wisteria’s hair behind her shoulder while studying her adoringly. “Soon you’ll make one of our clan a proud man.”

  Wisteria laughed. “I’ll be back shortly. I’m going to collect rocks, not run off to unite in marriage.” Her laughter died as her mom rested a palm on Wisteria’s cheek, her expression sullen. “Momma? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Your father has chosen him.”

  “Who?” She sensed someone’s eyes upon her but was too shocked by her mom’s disclosure to care. It could have been any of the clan members. They were notorious for listening in while others conversed.

  “Your mate. It’s time to breed.”

  My mate? She would’ve been united a long time ago if her mother hadn’t clung to her so tightly. “Who?”

  “Sledge.”

  Wisteria removed her mom’s hand from her cheek and stepped back. “No! No, not him. He’s mean. And he’s…he’s foul…and, and I’ll never lay with him. Never.” How could Father do this?

  “He’s our bravest hunter. He’s good breeding stock.”

  The thought of mating with Sledge turned her belly. He wasn’t typical of the men in their humble clan. They at least bathed in the lake to rid themselves of the day’s toils. Sledge rarely washed. Animal blood from kills remained on his body and furs until it dried and he scraped it off with his fingernails. His hair was a ratted mess and probably infested with insects and maggots feeding on his scalp.

  Wisteria quivered but composed herself before saying something disrespectful to disappoint her mom. Slowly she straightened, stiffening her posture. “Tell my father no. I will not unite with Sledge.”

  “I’m sorry, Wisteria. I know this is my fault. I was selfish in my own right, but I’ve lost so many children I couldn’t bear to part with you or your sister. Now, I haven’t a choice. We need to increase the numbers in our clan. If the women don’t start bearing children, one day we’ll be taken over by another tribe and driven to extinction. The Flesh Eaters nearly wiped us out. Only thirty-one remain. Thirty-one, Wisteria. How can we protect ourselves from further attacks with so few?”

  And why is that my problem? She’d rather all clans unite as one. There’d be less fear and hatred and food would be plentiful. “I’ll not allow Sledge to rut me like a beast. I’m more than an incubator for his offensive seed.”

  “You’ve already been promised. He brought your father sixteen hides upon the morning sun as payment.”

  Wisteria followed her mom’s gaze to a pile of furs stacked near the trunk of a tall oak tree. Her heart lurched. “He didn’t!” Her mouth dropped. She snapped it shut so quickly her teeth clinked. How could Sledge have acquired so many furs so soon when their people left everything behind when they’d escaped the Flesh Eaters? “I don’t trust him.”

  “You talk nonsense.” Nodda stepped forward, lifted Wisteria’s hand and patted the back side. “On the seventh rise of the sun you will join in marriage to our great hunter.”

  “Marriage! This is ridiculous.” She’d rather suffer through cold nights than endure his touch.

  “We’ll now have the means to stay warm when the sun hides beyond the land and morning abounds.”

  Wisteria retracted her hand, spun and headed toward the path leading to the lake. “Tell my father to return them. I’d rather be captured by the Flesh Eaters.”

  “Wisteria!”

  She never intentionally ignored her mother but she was at a loss for civil words. If she opened her mouth she might say something vulgar and get tossed beneath Sledge’s furs
sooner than seven suns as a punishment for her disobedience.

  She stomped through the forest, her feet smashing rocks she normally avoided, but she was too angered to feel any pain. As she neared the lake a loud boom rumbled in the distance. The ground shook. She wrapped both arms around the nearest tree, squeezed her eyes shut and held on tight. “Not again.” The exact thing happened two days ago.

  Something stiff and scratchy hit her shoulder then tumbled to the path. She opened her eyes to see a huge nest made from twigs lying beside her feet. Four large eggs, twice the size of her hands, rolled free and settled near the tree’s protruding roots.

  Two more booms shook the ground and then suddenly it steadied. Cautiously she released the tree, listening as the echo faded.

  For a long moment she stood still. While anticipating another boom she studied the grayish-white eggs. None of the shells were visibly cracked but it didn’t mean they weren’t harmed on the inside. One at a time she returned them to the nest, examining their unusual black spots.

  A loud, heavy swooping sound echoed overhead followed by an ear-piercing, “caw-caw”. She replaced the fourth egg and glanced upward. High above the treetops a huge animal with an enormous wingspan circled the forest.

  She focused on the odd-shaped wings as she stood and slowly backed away from the nest. Stealing a mouthful of air, she turned and ran toward the lake, batting branches and vines aside. She tripped and fell along the side of the path but caught herself with her hands before her head hit the ground. Thorns and rocks scratched her palms and knees and her thigh scraped against the pointed edge of a hollow log.

  Breaths sawed in and out of her lungs with a fierce burn but she jumped to her feet and ran, refusing to stop until she reached the water. There she’d be safe. The two-headed serpent would protect her.

  The bird continued circling overhead. She watched its shadow as she dashed across large, flat stones, searching the depths for the snake, but Loo-La wasn’t in the vicinity.

  Wisteria jumped over rows of flowers, raced through the clearing of plush grass to the bright-orange feather tree and ducked inside the branches. She peered through the whisper-soft leaves and into the sky. The bird had disappeared but she listened for the unusual sound of its wings. The subtle waterfall streaming from the cliff at the far end of the lake was the only audible noise.

  She waited, drawing one breath after another until her chest relaxed, then she stuck her head through the branches and peeked. No shadows circling the ground. No swoosh of flapping wings.

  Sighing in relief, she glanced at the multiple rows of flourishing magnolia plants along the embankment. The center row consisted of pink flowers. The outer strips thrived in shades of bright red. Ah, her beautiful haven. She felt more at home here than in the caves.

  Fern trees, evergreens and lime-colored bushes lined the forest border. White water lilies lay across the water, which was clear enough to see the yellow clay bottom. During the one moonlit night she was fortunate enough to see, the underbelly had glowed, lighting the entire area. The large two-headed serpent, Loo-La, blended with the colors and at times couldn’t be seen.

  Sighing in relief, Wisteria withdrew from the underside of the branches, stood up and cautiously walked to the lake. Large purple leaves and small silver petals fluttered in the breeze on her favorite tree, which stood halfway between the flowers and the bank. She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky, absorbing the warm rays before she sat down with her back to the trunk. As she drew her knees close to her breasts, the bottom of her right foot throbbed. She laid it across her opposite knee and brushed dirt and sand off her sole. Tiny stone impressions dented her heel but a long thorn embedded partially beneath the skin caused the pain. She grabbed the protruding end and tried wiggling it free but it wouldn’t budge. Wincing, she pinched it between her nails and yanked. It popped free. Blood rushed to the surface, bubbling at the puncture’s opening.

  Exchanging glances between the sand-filled embankment and the lake, she scooted to the edge and inched her feet into the cold water. The warmth bathing her upper body along with the cool water chilling her toes soothed her inner turmoil better than any herbal elixir could. She wasn’t angry at her father anymore. Hurt, yes, but not mad.

  Why Sledge? Couldn’t her dad sense Sledge’s dishonesty? How had Sledge acquired all those pelts in exchange for her in so short a period of time? Was she the only person who noticed when he departed to hunt, he stayed away for long periods of time and often returned empty-handed? If he was supposedly the greatest hunter in their clan, it didn’t say much about his skills.

  She sighed and dismissed all thoughts of him because they soured her stomach. Instead she focused on her surroundings. This place, her paradise, was too beautiful to dwell on shallow visions.

  Still leery the enormous bird might return, she glanced across the surface of the still water, searching for Loo-La. The serpent would protect her if the bird attacked. Well, she chose to believe it would.

  “Looooo-Laaaaa,” she sang, summoning the yellow snake. “Loo-Looooo-Laaaaa.”

  Sometimes it took her friend awhile to appear, so she skimmed the surroundings, waiting for its long, yellow body to emerge. “Loo-Laaaaa.”

  She glanced at the cliffs where the serpent sometimes sunbathed. Near the waterfall large white boulders glistened beneath the sun. The entire embankment twinkled as well as if it were sprinkled with shiny dust. Right below the water’s edge smaller stones sparkled. Some were clear and others were flat, black stones.

  She inched forward and dug them free, examining each one closely. Those that were large and unflawed she set aside in a pile. The tiny ones she tossed back into the water because they’d break when trying to drill the holes needed to string them together.

  A loud splash stole her attention. She tilted her head slightly and smiled, expecting to see Loo-La weaving in and out of the water, but she saw nothing other than ripples circling the surface. Many aquatic animals lived in the lake. They’d possibly bobbed for air.

  While she continued digging up stones she heard another splash. It was much closer in the shallows. She looked up. A tall, muscular man emerged from the knee-deep section. She gasped and scrambled backward. The water rolling down his massive arms and chest glistened in the sunlight. Streams slithered from the bulge in his dark-brown fur loincloth to the contours of his thighs. As he stepped forward one long stride at a time, his muscular legs flexed. A few droplets trickled into the lake and Wisteria heard every subtle kerplunk.

  When their eyes met she froze. His were dark. So dark they appeared black, the same shade as his long, unbound hair.

  In that instant she knew he belonged to an unfamiliar tribe. The Mountain Slayers wore gray furs and their bushy hair was lighter in color. The Flesh Eaters donned skin pelts and bound their hair with vines strung with human teeth. Neither clan wandered near the yellow lake in fear of the two-headed snake. Only one other tribe remained. A tribe who emerged at night and were so feared for their coldhearted brutality, no one spoke of them. Those who tore humans apart with their bare hands and skinned their bodies or burned them alive. Those who killed for the sake of killing. A tribe so sadistic, not even the Flesh Eaters would invade their territory.

  The Barbarians.

  But this man looked too civil and regardless of his normal appearance she gulped in fear as he waded closer.

  She backed up toward the tree as the sound of her breath accelerated in her ears. The flesh of her feet pushed against the sand and stones as her gaze wandered urgently in search of anything she could use as a weapon. Why hadn’t she listened to her mother and brought the spear?

  “Don’t fear me. I’ll not harm you,” he said, his gaze rolling upward from her toes to her face.

  The calm in his deep voice contrasted with his mammoth size and the power of his stride. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her arms trembling as she pulled her weight up the slight incline. Not that it was her lake but she wasn’t used to
encountering anyone when fleeing to this haven.

  “It’s unsafe for a woman to wander alone.”

  “I’m” She stole a quick peek at their surroundings. If she spoke the truth would he take her into captivity? “Not alone,” she lied.

  He halted a foot away, towering above her, and ran his gaze lazily across the bottoms of her feet, her legs and then the remainder of her body. His shadow consumed her, blocking the warm sunshine, and she suddenly felt no bigger than a grain of sand.

  “No?” He raised one brow as if detecting her lie.

  She continued skittering up the bank until her back hit the tree trunk. “N-n-no. My clan is right, um,” she pointed to the path leading into the forest, “in there awaiting my return.”

  “Are they now?” he asked, rubbing the shadow covering his hairless chin and cheeks.

  Another indication he belonged to a tribe unknown to her. No other men in the land removed hair from their faces and chests. “Sorry, but I must go.”

  “What’s your name?”

  She wasn’t going to answer but she had a feeling if he really wanted the truth he’d succeed in forcing it from her. “Wisteria.”

  He smiled and something warm stirred in her tummy.

  Shocked by the unfamiliar sensation, she stood, brushing dirt off her backside. Unlike the elderly women in her clan who wore long hides from their shoulders to their knees, her garment consisted of two fur pieces an upper section and a lower. But with the man’s eyes now roaming her bare tummy, unease crawled along her spine.

  “I saw you digging up rocks. Do you collect them?”

  “I…um…” She wrapped her arms across her exposed waist. “They’re stones.” She glanced at the pile she left near the water’s edge. “I use them to make jewelry.”

  “Jewelry,” he repeated, rubbing his chin a second time.

  “Excuse me, but I must get back to my clan.”