Rise of the Shadow Warriors by Michelle Howard Page A

geili bird in mid-flight. One of Argan’s more recent efforts.
    “I was chasing Gornan with Justan and missed a jump. I landed on my face.”
    Her answer satisfied him. Slightly. Argan still puzzled why seeing her injured had scraped against his nerves. His reaction to women was never like this.
    “Have the Gornan attacked?”
    She returned the bird to the shelf and spun on her heels to face him. “No. These were scouts. We caught them wandering too close to where their land boundary ends and ours begins.”
    Argan accepted her answer. “And the other matter? Did it calm your people?”
    Had the knowledge of the bond commitment made her people back off of her? Argan bit back the words but wanted to know all.
    “I have yet to make the bonding announcement to my people.”
    When she said no more, he asked, “Why?”
    Her hesitation tempted Argan to shake her. Instead, he balled his fingers into tight fists and maintained his poise. “What of the man, Ivak?”
    At this, her lips pursed. “Ivak is never going to be happy at what I do. All he understands is tradition.”
    She was not telling him everything. Her eyes darted around the room as she slid her thumbs into the waistband of her pants. His gaze followed.
    Her body was sleek and muscular, a testament to a physical lifestyle. He knew of no other woman who wore weapons so blatantly displayed on their person. Kabanian women expected a warrior to care for and protect them. While capable of producing poisonous venom, Raasa female were peaceful. Neither race boasted of women with a mastery of weapons or outward strength. Except Mikayla but from Argan’s observations she was an exception in many regards.
    “You speak of tradition. Is it also tradition for a woman to carry a man’s weapon?”
    Silver eyes widened and her lips curled. “A sword is the weapon of those who show mastery.” Slender fingers moved from her waist to glide over the burnished hilts of the blades on each hip.
    Argan inclined his head. “In this you speak truth.” He contemplated how much skill she possessed. Legends told the tale that female Shadow Warriors were as deadly as their male counterparts in battle. Did the Olak’din maintain the practice?
    He shook his head and rid himself of the foolish questions stirred in her presence. Instead, he chose to focus on her earlier comment and an action he felt compelled to complete. “The last time you were here, you left before we could finish our talk. In Kaban when a warrior takes a woman as his bride, it is tradition that he offer Kutthra.”
    Her lips parted, drawing his attention to the swollen and distorted flesh. The sight offended him and Argan wished he’d been there to prevent her from falling.
    “Kutthra?”
    He stretched the waist length braid out in his hand and drew out his knife. Brief amusement danced through his mind when he thought of how Mikayla would react if she were here. Argan sliced the braid from his nape without further consideration. Extending the long black rope, he waited until she accepted it. When her fingers closed over the offering, their hands brushed. She inhaled sharply as Argan released his hold. The hair dangled from her closed fingers filling him with a sense of satisfaction.
    “Kutthra lets a Kabanian woman know that a warrior is taken. It is in bad taste to make sexual advances toward a man after Kutthra.” Of course the man and woman could choose to end their commitment at any time and the warrior only need grow his hair out again. Kabanian unions were often temporary. Argan was not sure if the Olak’din bonded for life like the Raasa. There wasn’t much known about them at all aside from their prowess in fighting and weaponry.
    Shaina stared a moment longer as if wanting to speak then tucked the tail into the waist of her pants. “Thank you, Warlord Argan.”
    “No thanks are needed. As my bride the honor is yours.”
    Her head tipped to the side as she studied him. He remained still under her