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DIESEL (Forsaken Riders MC Romance Book 13) by Samantha Leal (228)


 

 

 

Tammy felt confused when she first awoke. When she saw the old man, in exactly the same place he had been as she’d fallen asleep, she realized that it wasn't a horrible nightmare, everything was real.

“Are you well, Princess?” the familiar voice asked her.

She recognized the voice as the son of the old man, the handsome stranger who was the first cause of all her troubles. 

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped back at him. “It sounds ridiculous.”

“It is not ridiculous to your people,” he told her. “They will rejoice at your return. You are their savior. You must become comfortable with this role, Princess.”

“Are you doing that simply to annoy me?” she spat at him, knowing he was enjoying her discomfort.

Right now it all seemed his fault. It was him that had sent her into that stinking cellar, which ultimately landed her in this strange place. She didn’t belong here, even if it were true, how could she make herself into a Princess, and a magic one at that? It sounded too surreal, how was she ever going to get back home again?

They ate a quick breakfast of fresh forest fruits, and drank clear spring water. Tammy felt she had not eaten anything so delicious in her entire life. As she was finishing breakfast, the old man approached her.

“It is time for us to move on, Princess. We need to start the journey that will one day result in the freedom of your people,” he smiled at her.  “Today, is a good day.”

His words sent dread through her heart, how could she be the savior of any people? She was so confused, what exactly did they expect her to do?

Niyol’s voice snapped her out of her reverie, “You ride with me, Princess,” he placed extra emphasis on the word, Princess, enjoying that it caused her chagrin.

“Up there? With you?” she frowned. “No way. Can’t we walk?

“I gather our Princess hasn't ridden on horseback before, then?” he smirked at her, enjoying her discomfort.

“No, the Princess hasn’t, neither does she want to.”

“Well, it’s at least twelve miles before our first stop. Passing through woodlands that are home to many wild creatures, including wolves and bears. If that’s what the Princess ordains, then who am I to argue?”

“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” she said, resignedly. “Help me up,” she demanded, holding her hand out. He grasped it firmly, pulling her up, seemingly effortlessly.  She swung her leg over the horse and tried to wriggle into a comfortable position. “Have you never heard of saddles in this world?” she asked, a note of sarcasm in her voice.

Niyol ignored her sarcastic remark, simply shaking his head in despair. How his father thought this flip of a girl, this prima donna, could save their world, escaped him. He pressed his heels into the horse and commanded it to move off. Finally, they set off on their journey. Niyol wrapped his arm around the young woman’s waist, keeping a firm grip when the terrain became rougher. His father would never forgive him if he let her fall. The softness of her shape between his legs was encouraging his member to harden. He wondered at what she’ll do if she notices.

The horse wasn't as uncomfortable as Tammy thought it would be, it just took a little getting used to. It didn’t help that there was nothing for her to hold onto, other than the horse’s mane, but she felt uncomfortable pulling on that too hard, though the horse didn't complain. She didn't even mind when the man behind her wrapped his arm around her waist, his strong arms holding her securely, his broad chest pressing into her back, it gave her a feeling of safety, something she hadn't felt since this adventure had started. She shuffled back to press closer to him, his strong arms giving her a sense of security. Then she felt something stiff pressing against her ass. She blushed with embarrassment when she realized what it was, and for a fleeting moment an image of a naked Niyol shot through her mind.

To take her mind from such visions, she tried to make conversation with him, but he was reluctant to talk. Whenever she had a question, his answer was always, “things will become clearer,” or, “ask my father.” It was all quite frustrating.

“Will I ever be able to return home?” she asked him, not expecting a reply, and was surprised when he responded.

“This is your home,” he said, as if that was all he would commit to.

He really infuriated her sometimes, with his superior attitude, wasn't she meant to be the Royal one? What was he anyway? Nothing but a jumped up bodyguard. Perhaps it was time to give out some Royal edicts, starting with forcing this infuriating man to treat her with some respect.

“Yes, I will show you how to return to your other world, when the time is right,” his words startled her and she felt a little guilty for her angry thoughts.

The rest of the journey passed by in an uncomfortable silence, for each of them, and they were both pleased when they entered a large clearing, not too far from a small village.

As they drew closer, a rider on horseback came out to greet them. He was dressed similar to Niyol, with a dark green leather jerkin and black leather pants. On the breast of the jerkin was a badge with a red background, and embroidered in gold was an eagle fighting with a wolf. It was the same as the badge on Niyol’s jerkin. She wondered if it was some kind of clan marking.

“Welcome to Ionia, Princess Tamara,” the rider greeted her. “My life is yours to command,” he bowed at the waist, sweeping his arm in front of his body, in an elaborate salutation.

“Thank you...umm...” she stared at the rider questioningly, wondering at his name.

“Peta,” he responded.

“Thank you for your gracious welcome, Peta.”

They all rode together into the village, with Peta leading the way. News had travelled ahead of her and the streets were lined with happy people. When they entered the village, a huge cheer rose from the thronging crowd.

“Are these people here for me?” she asked Niyol.

“I told you that your people would be happy to see your return,” he said to her. “They think, like my father, that you will save them from the tyrant.”

“And you?” she asked.

“It matters not what I think, if you can motivate the people to stand and fight, then your being here may have merit and reason,” he couldn't hide the doubt in his voice.

“Why do you dislike me, Niyol? I have done nothing to deserve your derision,” she scolded.

Niyol didn't respond to her question, he just stared ahead. Truth is, he was actually getting used to having her around. She did instill in him some confidence that her arrival may help, especially having seen the village folk welcome her, but he wasn’t going to admit that to her. Unknown to her, he smiled down at her head as she sat in front of him on the horse. He thought she smelled of fresh tangy oranges, and in fact, he thought she was quite beautiful, for a thorn in his hand.

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